If you're reading this chapter, once again, thank you. It means a lot that people care enough to read what I've written. Please, if you have any thoughts on the story, or room for improvement, or things you'd like to see happen please leave them in the comments. Thanks again to megansalvatoreox & RazielsMango for reviewing.


Chapter 6

Training was even harder for Clary now, not only was she distracted by the thought of Ithuriel lying tortured on the stone floor but now she was also diverted by the notion that Jace was less than a few feet from her. Normally she could channel all emotion into a swift kick or a complicated manoeuvre involving a knife but at that moment she was just unfocused, preoccupied with her thoughts. Which is why she didn't notice a huge fist heading towards her face, she only felt it as it contacted, knocking all thoughts from her head. Her vision began fading.

Clary woke up. She felt the frosty, steel floor of the training room pressed against her stinging back. She felt her nose throb as if screaming in anguish. Her vision was still blurred but up above her she could make out wisps of golden hair and matching eyes filled with concern. Beyond that she could see two figures, standing with a posture that was rather menacing, as if one was a mirror of the other. The two beings stared at her, their lips curled with disgust. She could almost hear the mutters of "weak" from under their breaths. "Jace." boomed out a voice which echoed around the room at an impressive volume. "Take the girl to her room. And hurry about it. I want you back here in two minutes. Now go." Clary felt Jace gather her in his arms, gently and effortlessly as he began to walk hastily, being cautious not to bump Clary's head. "Wh-wh-what happened?" questioned Clary, her voice croaking like a dying frog. "You and Seb were fighting, and he hit you full on in the face. A powerful hit I might add, you went flying backwards, hit your head, knocked yourself unconscious" Jace stated; his voice full of fury and uncontrollable rage. Clary noticed deep red blood dripping off of her face and onto the floor, hitting the wood with a dripping noise that normally wouldn't have been audible, but amongst the silence it was deafening. Clary mustered what little energy she had left and turned her head, gradually like a malicious doll from a horror film. She noticed that Jace had passed right by her door. She meant to tell him but couldn't congregate the energy to. Her eyelids felt like stone, she was too drained to hold them open anymore; they slammed shut forcing Clary into a deep sleep.

Clary dreamed of Ithuriel. His face was crumpled in agony as he spoke in a quiet and yet demanding whisper. "You have to stop him." Ithuriel urged, the look on his face implying the matter was of great importance. "You have to stop him." the voice repeated as Clary's mind flashed through images. A glistening key hidden above a central door, an annotated map pinned to a wall, a mouldy, sea green notebook, a swarm of people in a crumbling basement, all wearing menacing cloaks with hoods, the woods, silent and dark, in the middle of the night, a single rune glowing brightly, burning the inside of Clary's eyelids and then everything went white as Ithuriel uttered one final thing. "It's you Clary, only you can stop him."

"Clary" yelled Jace his voice raw with pure emotion. "Clary, are you okay." "I think so" croaked Clary, the weight of what she had just seen dawning on her. "You were yelling, a murderous yell, it shot right through me." Jace exclaimed. "I was dreaming." replied Clary. "Well, more like nightmaring" she added. "What do you think it means, Jace?" she uttered. Jace's face was filled with confusion. "Clary, I think we need to get you some help" he muttered. Clary noticed the fear swimming in his golden eyes as he began to walk again pausing only to bang on their mother's bright black door.

Jocelyn quickly rose and scampered across the room; swinging the door open. The knock had seemed urgent. She was greeted by the sight of a tearful Jace holding a limp and bleeding Clary. Immediately, as if running on pure instinct, she pulled Clary from Jace's arms, laying her carefully on top of the clean sheets. From under the bed she pulled an old leather suitcase, about the size of a small desk and effortlessly swung it open revealing rows and rows of weapons: sharp, bone-handled knives, deadly axes, defined guns and finally, what Jocelyn was looking for, a row of steles. "Go. Now." Jocelyn yelled at Jace. "I'm staying." he replied. "She'll be fine without you" retorted Jocelyn "and your father is going to murder you if you don't get back soon. I can already hear his bellows." Jace stared at his mother, Jocelyn nodded and with one final longing glance at Clary, Jace left, Clary's screams still ringing in his ears.

So what did you think? Thanks for reading! :)