I have to talk about this. If you don't want to hear it, just skip down, but it's something I've been dwelling on for a while, and if I don't talk about it, I'll lose my mind.
War is such a hideous contrast to what the human race pretends to be. You know, we say we're advanced, and we have all this technology and thumbs, and we tell ourselves that we're better than the rest of the creatures on this dying planet. But we're not. You know how else solves their problems by fighting? Animals. And we can't pretend to be this great, intelligent species while millions of people died through the brutal coarse of war, gasping for breath and wishing they could have said goodbye better, seen their Mothers and Wives one last time. Standing up for what you believe in isn't worth anything if you destroy these things while you become something else, some grotesque version of human being gunning down another man that has a family, that wants to go home just as much as you do. If we're so intelligent, why can't make more of an effort without violence. And I know that sometimes violence may be the only plausible that you can see, but maybe if violence is really the only answer, maybe what your fighting for isn't worth it in the first place.
Ohh hey. This is the actual author's note. I meant to update this earlier, and I was set on this being really long and having a ton of stuff in it, but then writer's block decided to kick my ass, and I started questioning my writing, and just bleh.
RUNOS-SISTER: Yeah man, I feel you. I had meant to get more into/just focus on them, but then my OC kinda muscled their way in and became a bigger part then I thought they would be. Maybe I need to stop being such a push over author...
THIS IS IMPORTANT: You guys really really really need to read From Ashes by ImmortalAriadneGoddess. It's really good, and portrays Clary as less of a help less damsel then a lot of Fanfic's do, which was refreshing.
It really needs to be spread around.
"Talk about what? Are we in some kind of trouble?" Clary said apprehensively. "Did we do something wrong?"
Nalia cocked her head to the side, looking at them with some form of cold amusement. "Oh no, at
least...not yet."
"Not...yet? Could you stop talking in riddles please?" Isabelle said, feeling rather tired of how cryptic everything was and strange people.
Expression not changing, Nalia continued on impassively. "You, Clarissa Fray, are in danger."
"D-danger?" Clary squeaked, getting a sinking feeling in her stomach that she was associating with her life far too often now.
Nalia nodded gravely, turning to Maelle. "She seems unsettled. Maybe you should speak to her instead of me. I will gather our Sisters so we may perform the ceremony." She glided away, making no noise.
"What did she mean I'm in danger?"
Maelle looked at her, clear pity in her jade eyes, mingled with suppressed fear.
"Well...we've been watching you for quite a while, since you opened that first portal in that fortunes shop. Your power has always been very advanced, very powerful. But since" she hesitates, displaying reluctantly hardly displayed. "Since Valentine kidnapped you, and through the course of his actions, your soul...has been cracked."
There was a tense beat of silence, in which Izzy spoke up in a wavering voice. "Cracked?"
"Well...maybe damaged would be a better word. And because of this, your energy and power will be displayed to anyone who knows how to look. There hasn't been a soul such of yours in thousands of years. There will be people... things after you. Anybody in our world would kill for this kind of power, this kind of leverage over the Clave."
Clary struggled to breathe; feeling like the ground was shifting under her. She sat down slowly, trying to slow the pounding of heart. Above her, she could vaguely hear Isabelle making demands, waving her hands wildly.
"Why me?" She thought. "I never wanted this. I was fine going to school, going to the comic store with Simon, but now neither of us will ever be the same. Never."
"Clary? Clary?" Someone was speaking softly to her, kneeling at her level. Isabelle. Her large velvet eyes searched hers intently, growing increasingly worried at the dull look in them. "Are you ready? They want to start."
Clary nodded, taking the hand offered to her. Isabelle pulled her up, keeping their hands clasped tightly together.
She nodded determinedly at Maelle. "We're ready."
Maelle said nothing, gesturing at them to follow her. Chalked into the floor, an intricate circle swirled on the ruined oak floor. Around this circle were glowing runes. The four Sisters stood evenly placed around the circle, looking powerful and important.
Maelle carefully lead the two through a space in the runes, warning them to not disturb the chalked circle.
"Are you sure you want to do this? This can't be undone."
Clary looked at Isabelle, who was looking at her with a hopeful expression. And she realized, that even though she was feeling alone, Izzy had been alone all her life. She acted just like a normal teenage girl, (Minus being able to kill a man with a bobby pin), but she didn't get to go to the mall or gossip with other girls her age. All she had were Jace and Alec, and she couldn't exactly paint their nails. Izzy had been there for her more than anyone lately, and she wasn't likely to forget it.
She smiled back at her, the glazed over expression clearing. "Of course," Isabelle beamed back at her, her whole face lighting up.
"Very well," She gestured to Sister Nalia, who crouched down, finalizing the rune before her. Suddenly, a bright white wall of light flared up around them, blocking their view of the rest of the room, leaving the two cut off from the world.
Sister Kennedy's warm voice floated towards them, sounding far away.
"Ego, soror sororum Kennedy ferri invocántibus angelus Raziel ligare haec duo venantes umbram quandam religacionem amicitiam, animi, fide, et victima." As she spoke, runes wind themselves up the girl's arms, snaking down into their join hands.
"Quaerere in auxilium sibi, et certe ad proelia veni. Horum filios vestros ut ligatis potens in proelio commodum omnia dæmonia, et adoraverit in malum!" (A/N: Ahahah, Latin.)
The bright wall seemed to glow brighter as she yelled the last words, and Izzy seemed to know what Sister Kennedy was saying, but Clary had no clue.
"It is done." Sister Nalia's voice rang with finality.
And Izzy felt like her head was going to explode. Gasping, she fell to her knees bashing her them on the cold floor, clutching her head. Clay's most recent memories flowed into her mind, blocking all individual thought.
Clary's bloodcurdling scream ripped from her throat and through the small room, her body convulsing on the blood splattered floor. Her eyes rolled back into her head, which cracked onto the rough floor. The pain sucked away any coherent thought, and all she could feel was the pain that racked every fiber of her being.
Above her, Valentine looked over the scene before impassively as his only daughter writhed on the ground. The dark, sick looking rune glowed a dark red on her arm, where had drawn it, scorning her skin. She wouldn't tell him what it meant, but it was plain to see now, Torture or Pain perhaps. He turned, walking towards the door. A follower shifted uneasily behind him, hesitating before opening his mouth to speak.
"Sir, don't- don't you think that's enough? It obviously worked."
Valentine didn't pause, or even look back. "Throw some acid on it, and then try the next one." As he closed the door behind him, his daughter's screams reached a crescendo, than quieted into loud sobs.