Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instrument series. Everything recognisable belongs to Cassandra Clare.
Sorry for making you wait so long, but school's been a pain in the ass lately. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are truly amazing and makes writing this story a million times more fun.
The long corridors of the Institute with multiple doors on both sides started to confuse her as she ran towards a large oak door with a silver doorknob. She had really underestimated the large institute when she had first been captured. The great walls around her were stretching high above her head and she could detect brilliant chandeliers handing from the dark roof illuminating the walls and the floor she was stepping on.
"Clarissa!" She heard Jocelyn's voice call after her, the woman's voice only made Clary's feet run faster and harder over the wooden floor. She reached the door and opened it carefully, making sure she wasn't giving away her hiding place.
Her eyes studied the room for a few seconds. What she saw in front of her was large bookcases with hundreds of old, well-read books and a large table where another ten books lay stacked on top of each other. The library surrounded the circular room and the shelves went up two floors. There were multiple chairs throughout the room. Clary figured out it was circular because it is built into a tower of the Institute. The second floor gallery held, not bookshelves, but things that must have been of importance, it was the same back in the Morgenstern manor. There were books related to dangerous demon magics, necromancy, demon pox, and various other subjects. In between each bookshelf was a glass case, each holding beautiful treasures in them. She walked behind a shelf of books and sighed. There were no sign of any kinds of weapon, nor were there what she needed the most at this moment, a stele.
She walked further down the rows of old books, letting her breathing run uncontrollably, seeing as she had just run what felt like three miles to get here and still was a bit shaken by the last few days' incidents. She stopped next to a glass case and looked at the various items inside. She saw a long blue feather quill, a large light, flat and smooth grey stone, which Clary recognised as an unusual large witchstone, a large book with leather covers and beside that a sharp knife with beautiful runes marked against the cold metal.
"You're in a hurry?" A voice spoke ahead of her, and as a reflex Clary grabbed the nearest inanimate object she could find and threw it towards the voice. She heard the voice make a sound indicating he had been hit by her heavy book.
One thing that always complicated her training and also sometimes her first hand fighting was that she acted before thinking. Clary had been getting better at avoiding the habit after her father had started training with her, but when she felt threatened or when something sat her off, she tended to punch first and then find out who she actually hit later.
In this case she should've listened to her father's training advices. The young boy laid across the floor, his head had slammed against the table leg and he groaned irritated. "What the-" He said as he climbed to his feet and stood with bright blue eyes facing her.
The boy reminded her of the man who had interrogated her when she had first been brought to the institute, and her eyes filled with hate. "Who are you?" She asked, venom filling the room as her voice cut through the air.
"I think I should be asking you the same question, and you can answer first, seeing as you just attacked me with a book." The young boy said, he tried using a voice where he sounded scary and demanding, but the childishness in the voice cracked his fearsome façade.
"Sorry kid, I don't really have the time." She said once she understood he hadn't been injured from being smashed into the table. He stared back at her, running his hand through his messy blond hair. "You're a Shadowhunter?" He asked and took a step toward her.
"No, I'm a fairy." She replied with an irritated roll with her eyes.
"No, I see you're a Shadowhunter, I just haven't seen you before."
"Yeah, let's pretend you still haven't, and I'll just leave right now." She told him and walked past the young boy, who leaned against the table as she passed him.
"Are you visiting?" He asked, seeing as the institute was merely a 'drop in-leave when you want', place for Shadowhunters it wasn't a stupid question, but Clary rolled her eyes and kept on walking.
"Yeah, I'm visiting." She said though gritting teeth.
"So why did you hit me with a book?" He asked, his voice filled with amused victory.
"Okay kid. I didn't mean to hurt, but if you don't move out of the way and shut up I'll do it again-" She said, but another voice broke her threat.
"Iwan, get away." The golden haired boy said with a stern voice.
"You don't de-" The older boy cut the younger one, Iwan, off again.
"Move."
One word- but one filled with power. In that single syllable she heard that the golden haired boy was capable of thing a million times worse than Iwan. She met his golden-brown eyes and recognised him as the one who had fought her on the roof of the dilapidated old warehouse.
She found her trademark smirk creep onto her lips, "We meet again." She laughed, even though the sound that escaped her sounded nothing like laughter, it was cold and filled with fury.
"We've met before?" He asked in surprise.
She looked up at him in confusion as well, before she remembered the glamour rune she had used on herself when she went out the prior night.
"Oh yes." She replied, keeping her emotions pinned inside her, not letting her anger burst out.
"If you need a reminder, I can show you." She said and walked a little further, towards the golden boy.
"Unfortunately I will have to decline, my brother's in the room." He said, his voice filled with sarcasm. Clary sent him a glare and picked up the sharpest object she could find, which ended up being the metal knife form the glass case. The only object she had found useful while inside the library.
"Wow, are you sure you want to go there Little Red?" The boy asked, his voice filled with a snarky tone. He drew out a set of daggers, holding one in each hand. "You know, I'm getting tired of fighting you." He said, spinning one of the daggers up in the air, before catching the handle.
"Oh, so you do remember me." She stated and went towards him with light steps. His eyes following her, watching every move she made with intense golden eyes.
To Clary's surprise, he didn't attack. He merely stood there, his two daggers in hand, ready, but not making the first move.
"Afraid you got lucky last time?" She asked the boy in her trademark contemptuous voice.
He smirked as Clary took another step. "Nah, I'm just not one to make the first move." He let an unamused laughter slip from his lips.
When Clary reached the spot she wanted, she turned toward him and adopted an attack stance. She saw the boy stiffen, clearly expecting her to jump at him then and there, he quickly mirrored it.
"I guess it won't work asking you politely to move out of the way?" She asked irritated.
The boy, still ready for an attack shrugged, "Sadly, no." He said meeting her angry gaze.
She leapt toward him. He dodged- just barely- obviously not surprised by her attack, Clary found herself wondering what made him slip up. She moved on him again, and again. With her in offensive and him in defensive parrying they moved with each other. Sometimes she could hear metal click and smash, but everything happened to fast for her to stop and see what he was going to do next.
Even though Clary was brilliant, the guy had two daggers, and she possessed only one. He was beginning to overpower her. She backed up to her side and stretched out her arm, hitting his side. But he didn't make a sound.
She attacked again, but this time his left dagger connected with her pale skin and ripped it open. She grunted from the hit, but kept her feet steady.
When she had first began training with her father, she had complained it was completely unfair that she had to fight someone more than a foot taller than her. He had laughed at her childishness and pointed out, that she would have to fight plenty demons, werewolves, vampires and even Shadowhunters that would be taller than her.
He might also have mentioned the blood running in her veins giving her immense powers, and this was what drove Clary to act next. Being bad gave her the advantage of unfair manoeuvres.
The blond Shadowhunter had her arm pinned with his, the other hand holding a dagger at her neck. Her back pressed against a bookshelf. It might have been reckless, and probably completely stupid. He could've torn her neck apart. But Clary was not one to give up.
"Just give up little Shadowhunter, you're-" he never got to finish the sentence. Clary kicked out, her leg met his knee and he stumbled, startled as he hadn't thought of her risking her own life to get away. The knife in his hand pressed into her neck as he fell and she let out a pained hiss.
There's a saying, 'Pride goeth before a fall.' In that moment, Clary was the living example. Her hand met her neck and she felt hot crimson liquid press out of the wound. "Fuck." She mumbled as she sprang down a set of bookshelves.
xxxx
Jace gathered himself and followed the red-haired girl. His leg was unsteady and it slowed him down a bit. In the corner of his eye he could see Iwan standing with his back pressed against the wall. "Get dad." He shouted to his younger brother, who obligated.
He ran after the girl, he assumed it was the same as the one he had sent crashing through the roof a few days ago, seeing as her sarcasm was still there, her green eyes were impossible to mistake. They held such a brilliant iridescent, but still green colour.
He tried searching the large library, but there were no signs of the girl. He slowed down, and walked down a row of books.
A small sound escaped from the door and he saw three more people walk through the door. He saw the red hair of Jocelyn Fairchild, the tall figure of the werewolf Luke Graymark and the unmistakable figure of his own father, Stephen William Herondale.
They didn't detect Jace; their eyes were on something else. All of them leaped forward, and Jace followed curiously.
What he saw stopped him, and he stared in shock.
A kaleidoscopic circle was formed on the ground, the younger Shadowhunter held a silver stele in her hand. She had a paler complexion than earlier, Jace guessed it was due to the loss of blood. A wave of guilt shot through him, this was the second time he had injured the girl and he had gotten out of their fight without more than a few cuts. At least this time it had been a fair fight. Almost.
The girl smirked and walked into the circle. Her eyes shone with triumph as she fell down the colourful hole. She was gone.
They all reached the spot where she had disappeared, but before anyone could jump after her, the portal closed. "What the hell?" He asked no one in particular. He was too focused on the fact that the girl made an portal. No one could make a portal. Well, at least if they weren't a warlock.
"Clary.." Jocelyn whispered just loud enough for Jace to catch the name. He had heard the name before, but he couldn't remember where.
A second later he saw the breath-taking similarities the girl shared with the older Shadowhunter standing in front of him. Same red hair, same green eyes, same face, how had he not seen that ten minutes ago.
And he suddenly remembered; Jonathan had a sister. But nothing of this made sense, she had died in the Uprising. Jonathan had told them that his sister had burned to death in a house, how could she be standing here, looking pretty damn alive. Or she had been standing here, now, there was nothing left to indicate her ever being here.
xxxx
Clary landed in the large manor. Unable to keep her smile hidden she let out a trilling laughter. Five pair of eyes landed on her, but no one said anything.
"Good morning to you too father." She said, meeting the shocked gaze of Valentine Morgenstern.
"Clary." He finally said, his face showing just as much surprise as his voice revealed. And the fact that he called her 'Clary' and not 'Clarissa' was just a gigantic bonus.
"Father." She replied with the beautiful smile still on forming on her lips. "Long time no see." She bit her lip as she finished her sentence with a hint of sarcasm.
"Clarissa, how did you get away?" Maggie asked. She was the only other person in the room that was allowed to speak directly to her, the other three being lower class members of her father's circle.
xxxx
"I'm just that good." She joked; he knew she didn't dare show her emotions in the presence of the unfamiliar faces. Valentine rushed to his daughter's side as soon as he saw the crimson colour on her pink sweater.
"What happened?" He asked, his voice bobbling with fury. He sent Blacktail, Pontmercy, Mooretowers and Maggie a look which told them they could leave, and they were gone.
"I underestimated my opponent. Fell through a warehouse and then got stabbed in the neck by an idiot." Clary told him as her eyes got heavier. Valentine found his stele and drew a powerful healing rune along with an Amissio rune, slowing down his daughter's blood loss and speeding up the natural blood replacement.
"And it was her, father." Clary said, leaning on her father as he finished drawing the runes. He looked up at her with bemused eyes. "Who?" He asked, his voice turning softer as he heard the vulnerability in Clarissa's voice.
"Fairchild." She said, her voice was filled with detest. "I was in an institute, and she was there, with the werewolf." Again she spoke the words as if they cut her tongue as she spoke them.
"Don't worry. They will pay for everything they've ever done to you Clarissa. Remember, fire cannot kill a dragon." He smirked as her eyes lit up with amusement, "Of course." She replied touching her cheek as she looked into her father's black eyes. Even while as exhausted as he could see his daughter was, he still detected the desire to show him her powers, her loyalty and respect.
They started walking out of the room when something in front of them erupted into colourful flames. He looked at the Five-Dimensional Door trapping both of them inside the room. He had no idea what had happened, but the portal covered the whole door and Valentine understood from Clary's shocked gaze, she had not conjured it.
"Father." She said with a bemused voice. "What is going on?"
He had no answer.
In the next second Clary was snapped out of his arms and pushed towards the portals flames. The portal looked nothing like the ones Clary usually made, but it still had a resemblance to the rune-portals.
He stared as the wild flames pulled his tired daughter towards them. He tried unsuccessfully to hold her back. The vibrant flames surrounded her and she was sucked inside the portal. Valentine felt the angry scream erupt in his throat and he slammed his fist into the door as it turned wooden again.
xxxx
Clary was too shocked to even resist the flames pulling her towards the portal, she had no idea what was happening, but the blood loss from earlier slowed down her reflexes. She felt her father disappear in front of her eyes as the cold flames swallowed her.
One second everything went black, the next, she was back in the institute library. The same four people stood around the portal as she fell from it. She met the eyes of the golden boy again, her jade green eyes locked with his amber eyes and he smirked satisfied. Again, there's a reason they say, 'Pride goeth before a fall.' And for the second time in an hour, Clary was the first-class example of the truth in this.
The floor came fast, crashing into her head-first with the power of a small truck. Pain cracked through the back of her head, and her vision grew blurry and sparkly.
She again felt the darkness surrounding her. This time because of the unconscious state she fell into.
Thanks for reading, I will update as soon as possible. Leave a little review, because I love reading what you think about the chapters. And if you felt like there's a lot of unexplained happenings in this chapter; you will get your answers, just wait and see.