Those Left Behind

by Lalaith Quetzalli

(7th in the Burning Tower series) It's hard, being left behind, whether that's physically, mentally or spiritually. How can one tell whether they've been left behind or they're the ones doing the leaving? Alec and his siblings might need some help figuring the answer to that question. Though in the end, they each made their choices, and now they must face the consequences…

To Windsib, because you're right in your guess! I have to admit you guessed the one thing I didn't expect anyone to even try to, but I'm glad for it nonetheless. You can make your request in your comment, as soon as you read this, or if you prefer something more direct, I'm princess_lalaith at yahoo dot com, or I can be found in Discord (Lalaith#2551). To those wondering what exactly the guess was... not telling! You'll see in the fic itself.

WARNINGS: This fic tackles several sensitive topics. I'll start saying there's nothing graphic, at all. It's only mentioned, and never directly. The Non-con warning is for two instances, one like what we see in canon, regarding what Iris Rouse did to get warlock children; the second is in the context of an arranged marriage. On that one, there's nothing said directly, though it's made clear that the girl was forced to marry a man who was abusive to her. Finally, regarding the deaths. They're all minor characters; most of them bad guys, if you want an actual list, you'll find it in the End Notes. Keep in mind that they will be technically spoilers. If you only want to make sure your favorites don't die, I can promise you that characters like Alec, Magnus, Clary, Chris, Meliorn, even Izzy and Jace, none of them die.

So much Worldbuilding and headcanons has gone into the creation of this verse, I can only hope you all have enjoyed, and will enjoy this last installment. Some things are coming full circle, others... well, I'm trying to give closure to a lot of stuff. Hope I didn't miss anything important. (And if I did please let me know and we'll see if I can do something about it!). Oh, and if anyone's wondering, the 'time travel' mentioned in the tags is only there because the time travel that started this whole verse is mentioned as the full consequences of choices made are addressed.

Dreamcast (for this piece): Chloe Bennett as Skye, Wilmer Valderrama as Carlos Angelborn, Martha Higareda as Xochiquetzal, Astrid Bergés-Frisbey as Tessa Gray.

And on with the finale!

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Those Left Behind

At first they don't know what's going on, exactly, only that something is. A number of messages reach them, from warlocks, notifying the contracts they took for making portals for refugees; and then from Institute Heads to inform of them receiving those refugees. While Alec will insist until the end of time that he's Just another Institute Head, ever since they passed the dozen Institutes that split from the Clave, the leaders of those have seen him as their leader. It only drove the point home when the other Heads began using the ceremonial title of Master for themselves, referring to Alec, and only to Alec, as Grand Master. And of course, when the Downworld got wind of it, of the importance of the difference in Alec's title and the others', they started using it more as well. It didn't help when Skye told him it was useful on her side of things as well:

"What do you want me to say Alec?" She asked him, with the bluntness and informality that she only allowed when it was just the two of them in one of their offices (and all his privacy wards up). "I'm the only Human Liaison, is it convenient that I only have to deal with one supreme leader on one side of the divide? Yes, it most definitely is! Also, on the human side of things, I've heard whispers of them doing something similar, believing that if you're all capable of appointing a single leader, they should be able to at least agree on one representative."

"You know I never wanted this, right?" He couldn't help but point out.

"I know, and in the words of… well, I don't really know whose words they are exactly, but the fact remains, that's precisely what makes you so good for the job. You care about the people, and not about the power." Skye retorted.

So they know there are more refugees coming out of Idris, small groups heading to different countries, different Institutes; and while that isn't a new thing, strictly speaking, they haven't had such numbers (such numbers of people leaving Idris) in… well, essentially ever.

New York might have been the first Institute to secede from the Clave, but they were far from the last. The first few months it was just two Institutes that followed in their footsteps: Los Angeles and Mexico City, their own connections to the Downworld, leading them to choose them over the Clave. The rest were more complex. While the moratorium was declared and upheld (following Magnus's relatively brief imprisonment in the NYI), in the end they decided, that regardless how his release went, they wouldn't make all shadowhunters pay for decisions made in NY, so portals and wards were left alone. That worked, but only in the short term; as both of those pieces of magic needed to be recharged every so often. Even if they might last years. It just happened that the wards of the Sao Paulo, Vancouver, Madrid, Istanbul, Cairo and Mumbai Institutes reached the end of their 'top performance' time. While they wouldn't be falling any time soon, they were no longer at 100%, which was a really bad thing when they were supposed to be what allowed the local shadowhunters to feel safe enough to rest, to sleep… It was really no surprise when those Institutes were closed, most of its shadowhunters returning to Idris. Most, because there were some who chose to stay, who chose to fight to keep doing their job, regardless of the risks. And the local Downworlders responded to that commitment with their own.

It came as no surprise when Idris decided to recall most shadowhunters in Institutes, leaving little more than skeleton crews to man those. And the shadowhunters responded, more and more of them choosing not to go, when their numbers in any given city were great enough, they'd take over the local Institute, when they weren't, they'd make their way to another Institute and join there. The Clave either didn't care, or didn't have the resources to stop it all from happening. Alec will never stop suspecting that it was a bit of both, but mostly the latter. It's quite possible that the Clave expected that many of the nephilim would die, the Downworld proving to be as unreliable as the Clave always claimed; that'd prove they were right, reinforce their stance on nephilim superiority, their power. At the same time, Alec's quite sure that while that might have played a part at first, with the first dozen Institutes or so, he's also fairly certain that the time came when the Clave must have realized that they just couldn't do anything anymore. That the shadowhunters still in Idris, would never be enough, not to go against the rest, and certainly wouldn't have been enough to do much of anything even if all their opposition happened to die.

So the Clave stayed in Idris, playing at having a power, an authority that they no longer did, and around the world, in their Institutes, life moved on for the nephilim. Keeping all that in mind, it's probably unsurprising that the Clave would choose to capitulate in the end. Let Valentine and his Circle return. Perhaps the only comfort was that, with how limited Idris was by that point, there was precious little Valentine could do, even with their help.

Doesn't mean they haven't had to fight against the Circle, and against shadowhunters a few times in the years since. He knows that Clary in particular has gone against their elite team (lead by Jace) thrice. She's never had anything good to say about their fights, though it seems to be more annoyance than true rage on her part; and while Alec regrets they've happened, he cannot help but be glad that it hasn't been him, not because he thinks he wouldn't have been able to act against his once brother and parabatai, but having to do so is the kind of hurt Alec would rather avoid. One thing he's never admitted (though he knows Magnus probably knows already) is his worry at Isabelle's absence from any and all battlefields that have involved shadowhunters in the past five years. She was mentioned in reports in the first year or so following the NYI's secession, but nothing since. Then again, no one has really seen the elder Lightwoods either, and Alec's fairly sure that's simply because Robert and Maryse cannot be bothered doing 'leg-work'. There was a reason Alec had to take on so many duties in the NYI at such a young age…

When the message comes, it does so from an unexpected direction. A letter is sent, in the form of a fire-message, to none other than Magnus:

To Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, Leader of the Shadow World:

My name is Lydia Branwell, and my purpose in writing this letter is to request safe-passage and possibly asylum, for myself, my Promised One, and her brother. We seek not to cause any trouble, but simply to be somewhere we might be safe, that we might perhaps, one day, be able to call home. Even if the asylum cannot be granted permanently, we'd all still appreciate the opportunity to spend time in NY, however brief.

High Warlock Bane, I have never met you, and I'm aware of your reputation, both the good and the bad, but more than that, I've read some of my ancestor's, Henry Branwell, old journals. He mentions you extensively, especially in the one from 1878, the year when the two of you created the portal. I'll admit I've always wanted to meet you. So even if we cannot stay in NY, I will not regret the opportunity to meet you.

Having said that. I hope all works well, and we can reach an agreement that satisfies us all.

Sincerely,

Lydia Branwell, Shadowhunter.

Alec's face freezes almost completely the moment he starts reading (after Magnus has read it, and passes it to him for his husband to do the same); by the time he reaches the end both his eyebrows are high on his forehead, and he looks more than a little flabbergasted.

"Sayang?" Magnus calls, questioningly. "Is everything alright?"

"I… I know we guessed that something big must have happened in Idris, to explain the number of refugees showing up pretty much everywhere but…" Alec swallows, lowering the letter slowly, as his mind keeps rushing, processing all the little details, their implications, and what it means for everyone, especially those under their care: their friends and families. "This… this is much, much bigger than I would have ever expected."

"I don't understand darling." Magnus admits.

"There's several things in this letter." Alec explains, pointing out as he enlists them. "She refers to you by your titles, both as High Warlock, and in the Shadow World leadership, she's showing you respect for your position. Introducing herself from the start is another show of that, it means the letter is personal, not some sort of protocol. Then there's just who she is…"

"Lydia Branwell." Magnus nods. "You know her?"

"Somewhat." Alec shrugs slightly. "Not well but… remember when Jace tried to have his team storm Pandemonium? I did some calls to ensure that the truth would be known, that Jace, or my parents, or someone else, wouldn't try to cover their blunder, make it seem like you were the one to do something wrong…"

"Oh sayang…"

"It worked. But apparently, between that, and my demotion later on, the Clave decided to send an envoy to 'keep an eye on things'. That was her." Alec continues. "She wasn't long at the Institute. But certainly long enough for my parents to be forced to follow the letter of the law with Madzie, and then with me." He shakes his head. "Anyway, that's not what truly matters right now. The letter. Next we have the mention of safe-passage and of asylum."

"Those terms are a bit archaic, aren't they?" Magnus cannot help but point out.

"But still correct." Alec replies. "Especially in the way they show exactly what they want. They don't just want to be in NY, they want to be under your protection. Their clarification of what they're hoping for, followed by the understanding that it might not be granted…"

"It's surprising." Magnus admits. "When you consider how so many shadowhunters would rather just make demands and then act like they're the ones doing us favors."

"Exactly! She's not doing that, not at all. Then… the term she uses here, when talking about who the request is for. She writes 'my Promised One'. That's…"

"Is that important?"

"Very much so. It's… in shadowhunter society a lot of marriages are arranged, at least those involving the Old Lines. When they're arranged by the parents, when those involved are still young, the term 'betrothed' is used; when the shadowhunters involved are older, and usually the ones arranging the match themselves, they favor the more common 'fiance' and 'fiancee'."

"And 'Promised One'?" Magnus tries very hard not to show his horror at the idea of so many people, even if they're shadowhunters, having their life-partners chosen for them, or choosing them as little more than a business transaction.

"That's a term that's rarely used by the Old Families. See, if we lived in a world where the Clave weren't the kind of government it is; a world where I could have remained a shadowhunter, the Head of the New York Institute, while at the same time loving you openly, having our wedding in blue and gold… from the day I offered you my ring and until the day I was granted the pleasure of becoming your husband, I'd have called you my Promised One…"

"Oh my Alexander…" Magnus kisses his husband, a short but very intense kiss.

What else could he possibly say? His beloved nephilim just has a way with words. Which is funny, because Alec has always claimed he's no good at talking, at expressing himself, and yet he was a way of saying such wonderful things to Magnus. More than the words, it might be the way he says them, not like an impassioned declaration, like someone overcome with emotion in a certain moment; but calm, serene, like it's the most natural thing in the world, feeling as he does, like it's not something of one moment, but of always. How can Magnus not love his Alexander?

It takes a few seconds, but eventually the two focus once more on the letter.

"I remember Henry." Magnus comments. "He was a good man, a wonderful inventor, not just regarding the portal, but many other things. As terrible as the injury that paralyzed him was, he never let it define him, he continued his work, and even fought in battles, one even against a Greater Demon. Truly one of the better shadowhunters I've been acquainted with."

"I'm glad that not all the shadowhunters you've met have been bastards." Alec deadpans.

"Me too darling. But tell me, what else have I missed?"

"Well, the last paragraph is but a confirmation of her desire for an agreement to be reached. Which as we already mentioned is quite surprising. And then there's the last line."

"Her signature?"

"Yeah. She's signing just her name, and the fact that she's a shadowhunter. Nothing more. No 'Head of' this or that, no Commander, of Master, or anything else… That's not normal."

"Are there no shadowhunters without ranks?"

"Well, yes, of course, but those are the soldiers, the lowest in rank."

"Commoners."

"Exactly. Not that there's anything wrong with that! But the fact remains that someone from a line like the Branwell one, would never be a common soldier. Also, like I mentioned before, when she was last here, she was an envoy of the Clave, part of the Inquisitor's office."

"So her lack of listed rank, is she trying to hide it, you think? Or maybe she was demoted at some point? Maybe as some kind of punishment or something?"

"Or…" Alec hesitates, swallowing before admitting what's in his head, what's been in his mind since first reading that last line. "Or whatever's happened in Idris means ranks no longer matter."

xXx

Alec wouldn't say he never stopped to think, to wonder as to who exactly Lydia Branwell might be including in her request for safe passage and asylum; and yet he's quite sure that never in a thousand years would it have occurred to him to think of it being Jace and Isabelle… there's also the fact that Isabelle is quite visibly, heavily pregnant. Alec's mind seems to come to a complete halt, yet when he speaks up, the words to come out… even he doesn't expect them:

"Where's Max?"

Dead, his Maxie, his little brother, the boy he raised more than either of his parents ever did, is dead. Dead and buried, for more than a year now, and Alec never knew… He never got to see his baby brother again, never got to tell him how much he loved the kid, see him get his first rune; Alec wasn't there to protect him! It's so much, too much, Alec cannot handle it, so he turns around and walks away, and when he feels he's not moving fast enough, his magic reacts and he's conjuring a portal before he even fully realizes what he's doing.

"It's not on you."

It's Clary who finds him. Alec's not even sure where he is exactly. But he supposes that matters little, the redhead was always going to find him, once she got into her head to go after him, she's resourceful like that. It's one of the reasons why he's never worried about her, not even after he first heard about her going against Jace. While his old parabatai might be considered as the 'best warrior of their generation', he realized from the first time he saw Clary fight that she was a kind of warrior the shadowhunters would never be able to defeat, because they'd never understand her. Her unpredictability, her creativity… it doesn't matter if she might be physically smaller than most, not quite as strong physically, with lesser reach; she's found ways around all those things. She's a true warrior, the kind nothing will ever stop… probably not even death.

"You cannot know that." He replies, tone sharper than entirely intended. "I should have been there. I could have protected him. Should have…"

"How Alec? How?!" Clary cuts him off. "They exiled you! They did that, it was their choice, not yours. What would you have had to do to go back? Or even to stay? Give up Magnus? Give up Madzie? Could really have done that?"

He doesn't give an answer, there's no need. They both know it already.

"You know, I've been having dreams…" The young woman comments, apropos of nothing. "Well, I've always had dreams, you know?"

"You dreamt of your brother's captivity in Edom, and his rescue." Alec knows, he's heard the story, the whole family has.

"Yeah… that was a big thing." Clary nods. "And for a while, that was it. My dreams were like everyone else's… mostly. But then when I was eighteen I started having strange dreams again. I saw my mom, held captive in what looked like a bubble of green mist… or something like that. I saw myself, with no tattoos, but angelic runes. I saw Simon, as a human, turned vampire. I haven't even seen him since we were children! Still, I was shocked enough by him being in my dreams that I actually looked him up, just in case. Found he's been living in Ithaca, with his sister Rebecca. He's in a band, they have live shows in a bohemian restaurant-bar several nights a week, and are sometimes hired for parties and such." She shakes her head. "I… I saw myself as a shadowhunter… in love with another shadowhunter. Going through life, one fight after another, and then another, a never-ending war. And I… she ended up alone. Or well, not entirely, she still had J… her boyfriend, and some friends. But her mom died, and her brother… he was evil, completely broken after spending years in Edom, twisted into someone I could hardly recognize and… and even then she loved him so much…"

"He was still your brother… hers, whatever. No matter what else might happen."

"True. She loved him so much, that even with all the bad he'd done and threatened to keep doing, in the end she couldn't kill him. In the end she… she chose to save him, the only way she could. She knew… knew it was too late for him, for that version of him, the Jonathan who'd killed so many already: downworlders and mundanes and shadowhunters… So instead she sought to save a version of him she believed could be saved…"

"A version…" Alec echoes, confused, not quite believing what she seems to be implying.

"She created a rune, and it threw her back in time. Back to a time when he was but an innocent, little boy, trapped in a burning tower, crying and praying for help…"

Alec's in absolute shock, not quite able to believe what she's saying. But then he realizes something else. That while she's still referring to that Clary as someone else, the fact remained that Chris wasn't saved by some angel, or any angel, but by Clary herself, a version of her.

"You're the one that got him out of Edom." When Alec says those words, they're not a question.

"I'm the one who got him out of Edom." Clary confirms. "Or rather… a version of me. A version that, in many ways, ceased to exist shortly afterwards. I'm her, but I'm also me… I did not grow up with a geeky, nerdy human friend, but with a brother who was both nephilim and warlock. I didn't spend my life blind to the Shadow World, but learning about it, both the good and the bad. The other Clary… she loved her mother so much that when she was kidnapped, things went absolutely insane, she didn't know how to exist without her mom. Me? My mom ceased to act like my mom for the most part when I was still in middle-school! She wasn't there at my graduation, or when I moved out; and when things got dicey here in NY she just… left. She never sought me, not even to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry Clary…"

"I'm not. Honestly. I had Papa, and Chris. They're all I'll ever need."

"Magnus is pretty awesome, isn't he?"

"You're not bad yourself, stepdad…"

"Step… can we… not? I mean, nothing against you or anything, I swear! I just… We're almost the same age Clary!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say big guy."

Alec splutters a bit more, while Clary just laughs. It doesn't last though; and Alec really isn't expecting it when she throws him an absolute curve-ball with her next question:

"Do you blame me?" Her voice is so small, so hesitant, so unlike her usual confident, almost boisterous attitude; it sounds completely wrong to Alec's ears.

"What…? Why would I ever do that?!"

"I went back in time and changed things. I changed history. What if your brother died because of that? Because of something I changed?"

"You were just trying to save your brother! There's no way you could have known this would happen. It's not like you went back planning on Max to die…"

"Yeah… just like you didn't do any of the things you did planning to get exiled, or on your little brother dying somewhere down the road. You couldn't have known any of it would happen either. Even now, you cannot know for sure that you being there would have changed anything."

"I could have fought for him. Fought to keep him safe."

"Perhaps. And maybe you'd have saved him; or maybe you'd have died in his place, or with him. Or maybe you'd have lived and he'd have still died. Too many possibilities, no way of knowing things for sure. This isn't something we know for sure could be changed in a specific way. Sometimes the past truly cannot be changed."

Alec knows she's right. Much as he might hate it. He knows that even if he could ask her for that time-traveling rune, and she could give it to him, what'd be the point? As has already been established, he wouldn't betray Magnus, wouldn't abandon Madzie, not for anything. What could be possibly have done for Max, after that? And even if, by some kind of miracle, he were to find some way; what kind of consequences would that bring? It's like the little story Clary just told him, about the differences between her other life and her current one. Her human friend turned vampire; who in this life is still human, and she hasn't seen him in many years; her mom, who stopped being her mom, her brother, who had a chance to be thus. So many things, so many changes, out of a single action taken. Would his brother still be alive if she hadn't changed things? Alec doesn't know, cannot bring himself to ask. And he's not sure it makes much of a difference. Because even thinking about giving up his world, his life… he won't do it. For Magnus, for Madzie, for Harry, for Chris, and Clary, and Skye, and… and for himself. As much as the loss of his little brother might pain him, Alec will accept it, because it's what he has to do. This is his world, his life, and that's how it'll stay.

xXx

"Will you ever stop avoiding us?"

The question takes him completely by surprise. Enough to actually make Alec stop cold in the middle of his training kata. And it's only the fact that he recognizes the voice, and the tone, the stoicism being used to disguise what in others would have been a whine, that keeps him from reacting with some sort of violence, or at least gruff coldness. It still doesn't stop him from blurting out the first question to come to mind:

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" He demands.

It truly is Jace standing there. His blonde hair's a bit longer than it ever was in the past, deeper shadows under his mismatched eyes, he also looks… well, like shit, really, but Alec chooses not to comment, at least not for the time being. He wasn't there for the official debrief; not because he couldn't have been, but rather because him being present would have meant giving their newest refugees a certain… importance and notoriety, which might end up making things harder for them, instead of easier. Much as a part of him might have wanted to stay, Isabelle and Jace weren't his family anymore, hadn't been for years, he couldn't show more interest in them than in any other refugee. It wouldn't have been right, with his position.

That being said, Carlos and Andrew sent their formal report, as well as their personal notes as soon as it was all over. It's how Alec (and from him the rest of his family) learned what's been happening in Idris since the NYI's secession; while they might have learned a few things from those in other Institutes, as they did the same, and later on allied with him, they either hadn't been aware of everything, or were keeping things from Alec (by heaven and hell, he hopes it was the former). Aware as they might have been of Valentine's presence in Idris, along with his Circle, things were clearly much worse than any of them expected:

Isabelle was an Aldertree… well, she refuses to bear that name, insisting on calling herself Isabelle Lightwood, and since both her parents are dead, and she was never disavowed, it's her right. Still, she was apparently forced by Robert to marry Victor Aldertree, who treated her in such a way that if Alec had been around the man would have died much sooner than he did! Which was apparently what lead to Max's death, he tried to protect his sister, and it cost him his life. No one, not even Isabelle, seemed to be clear on how, only that the last time anyone had seen the youngest Lightwood he was yelling to Jace and his parents about not protecting Isabelle, and how Alec would have never allowed her to be treated like Aldertree treated her (Alec cried at the knowledge that his little brother was trying to emulate him, and it lead to his death, though still he tries to remind himself of Clary's words, it's not his fault…). Isabelle never managed to bear any Aldertree children, though apparently not for lack of trying (and that's all Alec ever wants to know on that topic!).

Isabelle's current, advanced pregnancy came about under entirely different, and much more complex circumstances. Jace. Jace and his superior levels of angel-blood. Valentine saw him as the culmination of his life's work (and experiments), he wanted more such children, but apparently at one point he managed to either exhaust or loose his source of angel-blood…

"He had a what…?!" Alec couldn't help his tone as he spat out the words.

"An angel captive." Chris repeated. "Named Ithuriel."

"I-Ithuriel?!" That only served to shock Alec even further, everyone in their family knew what Ithuriel meant to the Truebloods.

"Yes," Chris nodded. "I had heard him mention it, back when I was still with him. I was the one who got him out. Ithuriel was chained in the basement of Wayland Manor, I slipped back inside one night and got him out. The moment the chains were broken he got away."

"Did you ever see him again?" Alec couldn't help but ask.

"No, and I don't expect to." Chris shrugged. "My sister is the one to bear his blood, not I. And we both guess angels wouldn't take too kindly to her choices, either of binding herself to me as parabatai, or using angelic magic, which is forbidden to shadowhunters. Matters not. We've made our choices, and we'll stand by them."

Yes they will. As is only right. In any case, without Ithuriel (or Clary whom, they actually believe Valentine might have never been aware of; since if he had there's no way he'd have ever stopped hunting her), Jace was Valentine's only hope of gaining more nephilim with his same prowess. So he designed what was, essentially, a breeding program. At first there didn't seem to be anything truly wrong with it. They sought volunteers, and a good number of women offered themselves, eager to be the mother of the best nephilim of the next generation. Only the plan didn't work quite as expected; in roughly half the cases, it simply never took, there were no pregnancies; the other half, while there was a pregnancy, none of them ever came to term, most of them having an involuntary miscarriage at some point in the first trimester, none of them made it to the third trimester pregnant… or rather, none until Isabelle. Though that was its own story. The biggest issue though, were the girls who, while miscarrying, bled so much that they died, even the liberal use of iratzes and amissios wasn't enough to save them.

While they don't know the exact details, apparently Maryse told Valentine the truth about the Trueblood line at some point, most likely after Robert divorced her. With Isabelle having become an Aldertree, Jace having been claimed as a Herondale (it'd seem that's how Valentine managed to make Imogen Herondale agree to accept him back in Idris, when he revealed that Jace was in fact a Herondale rather than a Wayland, panting himself as the boy's savior), and Max dead, Maryse had no Lightwood children left, no way to claim a position in that family. She still tried, but Robert didn't just divorce her, he married Annamarie Highsmith. He was convinced she'd give him an heir, which she never did (and Isabelle's convinced that was intentional, at least on her part). So Maryse, in an attempt to regain some sort of rank, sought to become the mother of Valentine's heir instead. Probably believed that the revelation of the Truebloods as the original nephilim would help her. And it did, at least enough for Valentine to be interested, bed her. Only the pregnancy never came, unsurprising really, considering Maryse's age. And that was when Valentine's eyes turned to the other Trueblood female in Idris: Isabelle.

In the end Isabelle decided that she'd rather bear Jace's child, of her own free will, than be forced to bear Valentine's. Jace was the hardest to convince, according to her, the death of those other shadowhunters, few as they might have been, broke something in him. He feels guilty; after all, it was the pregnancies that killed them, and his baby (babies), they were carrying. In any case, Isabelle was of the belief that being Trueblood might help with actually getting the pregnancy to term. Since it was Ithuriel's blood, in the end. Whether it's that, or sheer stubbornness, she's managed to make it into the third trimester, even to the eighth month, which is more than any other managed before.

Oh, and if all that weren't shocking enough already. Lydia's Promised One? That's Isabelle. It's not that Alec has anything against it. Not that his opinion matters much, at this point, but even if it did, he has no issue with it. He's surprised though, as often as he ended up hearing about his once sister's boyfriends and lovers in the past, they were only ever that: boys, men. He never heard of her dating or bedding a woman. Not that he necessarily had to know but, if Isabelle intentionally kept something from him, while being aware and always trying to convince him that there was nothing wrong with him being gay… the idea hurts. Then again, he supposes that being forced to marry a man like Victor Aldertree (Alec never knew him personally, but he's heard more than enough, especially from Aline, who came dangerously close to being in Isabelle's place, at least until she and Helen decided to run away together, once and for all) could very well turn a woman away from men entirely.

Finally, on the subject of the most recent events. Valentine and his Circle are all dead, to the last man and woman. According to Lydia, several of them had a plan that consisted of adding a special compound to the drinking water in all of Idris, one that reacted to the Circle rune. So, those who had nothing to do with the circle would drink the water and be perfectly safe; those who had it though… they died. Valentine though, he was an entirely different matter. No one knows for sure who killed him. He was found early one morning (by none other than Lydia), dead in his own study, in his mansion; no doors were forced in any way. To make things even stranger, while he died of exsanguination, the only wound on him was a thin cut to the back of his neck, made with a blade thin enough to pass between two of his vertebrae, yet also long enough for it to have severed the spinal cord entirely. There were no records of any shadowhunters possessing any such blade, or it having ever been forged, either by the Iron Sisters, or one of the weaponsmiths. In any case, Valentine's sudden death meant their plan for the rest of the Circle had to be implemented post-haste. They never expected just how many people would end up dying because of it though. Especially high-ranking individuals: like Robert and Maryse Lightwood, Patrick Penhallow, Consul Dieudonné, even an Iron Sister and two Silent Brothers!

The survivors, both Lydia's group, and those who knew nothing about the plot, yet were also entirely innocent of the Circle and its actions, came together after the funeral rites were over, to decide what to do. They came to the conclusion that there simply weren't enough of them to hold Idris, to do everything that needed to be done, to keep the country running as it should. It was Jia Penhallow who proposed they leave Idris behind, and seek asylum in Institutes. Alec doesn't think the woman's made it to LA yet; then again, she doesn't have the kind of contacts Isabelle does (she was apparently owed a favor or two by seelies, and cashed it in by getting permission for her, Jace and Lydia to move through Faerieland to get to NY faster), or any kind of relationship with a warlock to be able to request a portal. Still, he does call his old-friend so she's aware of what's going on. And who knows? Perhaps she might be able to find her mother faster than the woman can make it to Aline on her own.

"You've been avoiding us ever since we arrived!" Jace snaps.

He rushes forward, intent on getting in Alec's face, like he used to do all the time in the past, back when they were brothers, when they were parabatai, whenever Jace sought to prove he was the stronger of the two. And if Alec still were the boy he'd been back then, he'd have allowed it, might have even taken a step or three back, giving ground, letting Jace have that victory, however small. Because Alec had never really cared for all the bravado, the posturing, the constant need to prove himself the best in every possible way… However, this is about more than that. He still feels no need to prove anything, to anyone. Yet he cannot allow Jace to walk all over him either. Alec is the Head of the New York Institute, the Grand Master of the Nephilim Order, and he has to stand his ground. So he does. When Jace pushes forward Alec pushes back, he has in his hands a pair of short feather-staffs, which he's been practicing with, the weapons are made of a mix of oak and adamas, with spells woven into them, as well as some of Clary's special runes carved. Only his bow surpasses those staves. But still, they're enough to stop Jace in his tracks.

"What are you doing?" Jace demands, as he ends up being the one to take a step back.

"That's what I should be asking, what exactly are you doing, Herondale?" Alec asks in a perfectly neutral tone, not giving an inch.

"I'm asking why you've been avoiding us!" Jace snaps.

"But that's not what you're doing," Alec shakes his head. "You're not asking, you're demanding. And what's more, you think that if you get in my face, if you push, I'll step back, that I'll give in to you, give you whatever it is you want. And you believe that because it's how this 'little dance' between us, always went in the past. You demanded and I gave, you pushed and I backed down. Every time. But see, I'm not the boy I was back then. I'm not a Lightwood, or your parabatai…"

"Yeah? And whose fault is that?!" Jace interrupts him.

"…or your toy to use and discard however you see fit." Alec finishes, before tilting his head to the side. "And it was your fault. It was you who broke the bond between us. Wanna know how I know that? Because while you could move on like nothing even happened, I carried a wound in my soul, kept it for weeks, until Magnus and Tessa contacted a Silent Brother who agreed to help me. I was also fortunate that Silbhé offered to be my parabatai."

"She took my place…" Jace snarls.

"No Herondale, you gave up that place, if you ever bothered to claim it at all." Alec retorts. "Really, when was the last time that you laid claim to me as parabatai, and it wasn't in an attempt to get me to do something for you?"

The worst part is, neither of them has an answer to that.

"Now, regarding your original accusation." Alec continues, walking away from Jace and going to the table to pack away his staves. As they're not his weapon of choice, and he's still familiarizing himself with them, he doesn't yet have any proper holsters that would allow him to carry them on his person, so instead he rolls them up in some cloth and then inside a bag he carries on his shoulder. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Bullshit!" Jace hisses. "We've been here for days, and haven't come across each other even once? Don't think me that stupid."

"I don't think you stupid, just ignorant of current events." Alec replies calmly.

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"I don't live at the Institute. Haven't for years. Since before my exile, even. Though I can guess you never noticed. Too busy playing the good son to Maryse and Robert?"

"Hey! That one was not my fault! If you just…"

"I'm not saying it was. Then again, it wasn't my fault either."

"If you'd done what you were supposed to…"

"Hah! If I'd done what I was 'supposed to', as you claim, I wouldn't be me. I'm a gay man in love with a warlock, with two warlock children now even, I'm also a magic-wielding nephilim, the Clave would have never stood for any of that. And how is it that you and Isabelle ignoring the rules, doing whatever you wanted was fine, but with me it was such a terrible sin?" He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter anymore. Like I said, I'm not that boy anymore. I have no interest in revisiting the past. Now if you excuse me…"

"Hey! Alec! Where are you going?!"

"Where I'm going is my business and my business alone, Herondale. Or what? Did you expect me to wait until you decided to dismiss me? Like I'm your subordinate? That's not how things work. You're not Head of anything here, this isn't the Clave. This is the Shadow Alliance, where you're a refugee, who might one day become a soldier, if you so wish. And me, I'm Head of the Institute, and Grand Master of the Order."

"Why do you keep calling me Herondale?"

"It's your name, is it not? You need to understand one thing. We're not friends, we haven't been for a very, very long time." He knows they were, once, back when they were still children, back when Jace still needed him, when Jace chose him as parabatai, the first person to ever choose Alec for anything… but that was a very long time ago, so much, too much, has changed since.

"Do you hate us? Hate me? Is that it?"

"No, I don't hate you, either of you." He knows Isabelle is listening, even if she hasn't revealed herself. "Hating you would require me focusing too much of my energy, and it's not worth it. For a while there I was… sad, I regretted, losing you. Until I understood, that it wasn't on me…"

"You abandoned us!" Isabelle yells as she finally rounds the corner, stepping into the training room. "We were supposed to be your family, and you left us behind!"

"Don't mistake my desire to leave the past behind with a willingness to let you rewrite your history as it suits you, Ms. Lightwood." He considers, just for a moment, referring to her by her legal, her married name, but doesn't really want to hurt her like that, so he restrains himself. "I didn't choose to leave the Institute. I was exiled. I wasn't the one who left NY, you did."

"Because you sent us away!" Isabelle snaps, full of righteous anger.

"We sent those who were a threat to the Downworld, to the Shadow World as a whole, away." Alec qualifies. "Yes, the order was for all shadowhunters, all who followed the Clave, But you seem to forget that being a shadowhunter is a job, not who we are. We are nephilim. Carlos, Andrew, Vanessa, Lauren and so many others chose to stay, chose to work with us, instead of against us. They left the Clave and joined our Alliance. They gave up being shadowhunters, though that doesn't mean they stopped being nephilim, or that they've given up on their oaths to protect others from demons. Regardless of what the Clave might have believed or claimed about us we all still follow the Covenant of Raziel. We all made our choices. I chose to stay. As did Carlos, Andrew and the others here in NY; as did Aline, Helen and others in LA, Ke Yi Tian, in Shanghai, and so many others around the globe. You, on the other hand, chose the Clave, That was your choice to make. Not one I could have ever made for you."

Isabelle opens and closes her mouth one time, twice, thrice. Alec understands, she knows he's telling the truth, and much as she might hate it, might want to deny it, she can't. They've all made their choices, and now they must live with the consequences, both good and bad.

xXx

Isabelle gives birth to a healthy son, with her skin tone, hair of a darker blonde than Jace's, and brown eyes with flecks of gold. She names him Alexis Max Lightwood. She and Lydia marry by nephilim ceremony weeks later, with each of them keeping their names, wedding runes drawn on the back of their hands, for all to see.

Alec comes across them at least once a week, he even agrees to spar with Jace every so often. It's not like they've forgiven and forgotten. They're not family anymore, might never be again, and while Alec believes (hopes) forgiveness will come eventually, none of it will ever be forgotten. He's not sure he'll ever be able to trust Jace again. Isabelle is one thing, most of her faults he can blame on age and immaturity, on her insecurities and the way their parents raised them all. But Jace… it's not even his attitude, or his emotional manipulation, he tried to kill Magnus! Alec can bring himself to forgive a lot, possibly even the worst of sins against himself, but not against his beloved. So they'll be allies, co-workers, perhaps even friends… someday. Time will tell.

One thing that seems to take pretty much all of the most recent refugees (everywhere, not just in NY) by surprise, is learning that humans are now aware of the Shadow World. Apparently Idris had become so disconnected from the rest of the world none of them were aware of what was going on with humans. About their recent knowledge, their meetings with Shadow World citizens all around, about the existence of a Human Liaison: Skye Lawson.

Aside from Alec, and Isabelle herself, the only one who seems to be willing to spar with Jace is Clary. Probably because their similar circumstances make her the one most able to keep up with him when he starts activating runes with barely a thought. She also seems to take great fun in sweeping the floors with him, time and time again, and doing it in as obnoxious a manner as she possibly can, each time.

"It's not that he's not a talented warrior, he is." Clary points out at one point. "But he's too…"

"Set in his ways?" Alec guesses.

"Not how I would have put it, but it works." The redhead agrees. "He's so used to being the best. I imagine fights, at least in controlled environments, stopped being a challenge to him when he was young. He could easily defeat most shadowhunters, even those older than him; and you cared too much about him to give him the thrashing he probably deserved. So now he's become too overconfident. Papa would say he's come to believe his own legend. Like I said before, it's not that he's not good, he is. The problem is that he's grown used to always winning, always the same way. So he's not accustomed to having to actually earn his victories. To make an effort. He's got next to no creative thinking. He expects for the same moves and styles that have always given him the victory, to keep doing so. That's why he was never able to defeat me when we came across each other in battle. I do not limit myself. I mix-up moves and battle styles, if one thing doesn't work I try a different one, again and again. I refuse to give up, to back down. Also, growing up sparring against Chris, particularly when he'd go berserker on me, probably helped."

Alec winces, just a bit. He's sparred against Chris on berserker mode, it's insane.

In due time both Jace and Isabelle join active patrols. Lydia, while being a pretty good fighter, is better at doing research and analysis; and since part of the Shadow Alliance (something that's actually written in their Codex) states that no one will be forced to fight… That rule was mainly created to ensure there would be no more child-soldiers, that no one would ever be forced to do and be something they didn't want to. There are some instances, like Rachel Dearborn, who at the first opportunity chose to make a living as a seamstress instead; or George Lovelace, who works as a weapon-smith in London; or the twins: Amano Tsubasa and Takara from Kyoto who, along with their seelie beloved, chose to open a tea house/bakery, it's very popular.

Lydia chooses to work at the Institute, helping with research and collating data whenever there's a mission. Her work and schedule allow her to take care of Alexis when Isabelle is on patrol. She also offers to watch over the other children every so often. As they learn quickly enough, during the 'school year' that's not an issue, as most of the children of both nephilim and downworlders attend New Salem Institute (or other such Institutions), so it's only during the summer that the Institute finds itself 'invaded' by children and teenagers. Some of the adults volunteer to teach them things: like languages, self-defense, and others. Lydia tells them stories, nephilim legends that aren't too well-known, it's always been a favorite topic of hers; of course she makes sure that none of them show downworlders negatively (going as far as to modify them, somewhat, when they do). She's a favorite of the kids, especially the youngest ones. And she too seems to enjoy her time with them very much, sometimes looks like she just doesn't want to leave them…

One particular evening, Lydia seems to be watching attentively as several parents pick up their children from the gardens they're having their storytelling session in that day. Isabelle and Alexis left early, as the baby seems to be coming down with something (nothing big, just a bit of a fever, or perhaps a cold), and they didn't want his cries to upset the rest of the kids. Alec and Magnus are among the last to swing by to pick up both Harry and Madzie, the older warlock girl already standing by the door, holding her little brother's hand. She loves him, just like everyone else, as much of a protective older sister as Alec was ever a brother (or Magnus as a father…).

"They do love him, you know?"

Lydia almost jumps in place, not having seen Clary approach her until the redhead is suddenly already there, standing right beside her. Though she does notice the younger nephilim isn't looking at Lydia, but rather at her own family.

"Papa, and Dad…" Clary chuckles quietly. "Don't tell Alec I called him that, he still flusters easily at the idea."

"Because he's too young to be a parent?" Lydia asks, eyes narrowed.

"Of course not!" Clary scoffs. "I mean, you do know he was the one to take Madzie in first, right? Before Papa joined their little family, and the rest of us followed." She shakes her head. "No, his issue is with my age, and my brother's, rather than his. I don't think it's that surprising, really; considering the last time he did some 'parenting' on people my age, it didn't go well."

"You're talking about Izzy and Jace." Lydia guesses easily. "I have to admit I don't know their story very well. When I came to NY back then, it was as a Clave envoy; I was sent by Inquisitor Herondale to oversee things for a while. With the issues caused by the attempted storming of a Downworld club, and all that followed, the Inquisitor wanted to make sure that the Lightwoods were the right people to be leading an Institute. Especially one the size of New York's."

"Yes, because former Circle members are the best people to lead an Institute!"

"Perhaps not. But I have to admit that if such were a dis-qualifier the Clave would have been left with precious few candidates left.

"Only from the Old families. From what my research shows Valentine was only ever interested in the oldest and the richest. Racist snob through and through."

Lydia has no reply to that, and while she might not be ready to admit it, she agrees with Clary.

"In any case, I didn't really meet any of the Lightwoods back then." The blonde eventually continues. "Not really, until we were all in Idris."

"But you knew Alec," The redhead points out. "At least enough to leave your son with him."

"I… I don't…" Lydia swallows, closes her eyes tight for a moment before opening them again, finally turning to look at Clary. "How did you know?"

Alec, Magnus and the Banes are long gone by then. The two women haven't really been looking at anything since then, until then, as they turn to face each other.

"It'd be easy to say that you just told me," Clary deadpans. "But that's not actually it. See, I'm an artist. Painting and drawing, to be precise. I'm pretty famous among the humans for my paintings of people, where I characterize them as various fantastical beings." She pulls out her phone, opening a gallery and passing it to Lydia. "I've painted all sorts of people. Famous and common. Like this girl, in her quinceañera dress, with butterfly wings; or the boy who lost his arm and I painted him like a robotic warrior; a European prince came to my shop to request a family painting, with his family characterized as elves… Granted, most of them aren't exactly like those in the Shadow World, but it has helped with integration. Or so Skye claims. She's the one who ensured my work went viral, after I did the first few paintings." She exhales. "In any case, I'm decent at calligraphy, and I can identify handwriting; since you actually signed the letter you sent Magnus a few months ago…"

Lydia only half listens to Clary's explanation, her attention on the pictures she's seeing. Photos of paintings, very well done paintings. But what truly captures her attention is the way, like Clary explained, that they turn seemingly common people into fantastical beings. Like the girl that looks like a mermaid, or the dark-skinned man that reminds her powerfully of an unseelie knight.

"They're remarkable paintings." Lydia comments as she gives back the phone, then, seemingly thinking closely of what Clary just said, adds: "I don't intend to take Henry from them."

"Thanks." Clary nods. "I didn't think you did, though I suppose it's good to know."

"I just want… just want to stay close, it's not too much to ask for, is it?" The blonde asks softly, eyes full of tears she won't let fall.

"No, it's not." The redhead agrees, then hesitates before asking: "If it's not much to ask, can you tell me how this is possible? Last I knew runed nephilim couldn't carry a warlock baby."

"Valentine." Lydia deadpans, and really, could there have been any other answer? "From what my team and I were able to piece together, he tried to get warlocks to do his bidding." Through kidnapping and experiments, she didn't need to specify, Clary knew enough of that. "However, it'd seem he was having a lot of trouble catching warlocks. Then, when he and the Circle were accepted back in Idris, he found out about Iris Rouse. Apparently Ms. Rouse was working on a potion that'd allow a shadowhunter to become impregnated and carry to term a demon's child. Valentine jumped at the chance…"

"If he couldn't capture warlocks, he'd make them."

"Exactly. When shadowhunters started disappearing, no one really noticed; I think most believed them to have seceded, like so many others. It was until they took Amelia Ironwood, the younger sister of Inquisitor Herondale's secretary, that I found out the truth. Miranda came to me looking for help, said that a group of shadowhunters in Gard colors, but with the Circle rune on their necks had come for her sister in the middle of the night. Miranda followed them as best she could, all the way to a cottage in Brocelind Forest, which was very risky, but at least she had the good sense to look for help rather than go into the cottage. I asked her to wait for the Inquisitor while I went after her sister. I had every intention to wait until Imogen Herondale and her men arrived… at least until I made it to the outside of the cottage and heard terrified screaming…"

Clary isn't surprised at all when the next thing Lydia says is that she went into the cottage alone. On the bright side, she apparently got there in time to save Amelia Ironwood from a terrible fate; and yet, who was there to save her? She was so focused on saving the younger woman, that Lydia didn't react fast enough when the demon turned on her. She had no weapons other than her stele, and while she was by no means weak, direct combat was never her specialty. The sounds of the fight apparently called Rouse's attention, and when she went into the basement to see what was going on Lydia, wounded and bleeding and more than a little traumatized, still managed to take the warlock by surprise, knocking her against a wall before running out of the basement, locking Rouse inside with the demon. By the time Imogen and her guards arrived both Rouse and the demon were dead. Lydia'd also managed to put herself to rights, enough that no one suspected her having been involved in anything more than a scuffle as she arranged for the other two to kill each other. Thankfully no warlock children had been born yet, and the few girls who were found were traumatized but otherwise healthy. They all chose to have their pregnancies terminated.

"My period has never been regular, exactly." Lydia continues. "And after a fight against an Achaieral left me with injuries traumatic enough that I almost died when I was sixteen… a medic told me the likelihood of me ever bearing a child weren't high. John knew that and didn't care. He said that if the Angel saw fit to bless us with a child, we'd love him or her, and if he didn't… we'd love each other, and perhaps even adopt an unfortunate orphan some day. I didn't realize I was pregnant until I was well into the second trimester."

"Until you could no longer terminate the pregnancy." Clary assumes.

"Maybe," Lydia shrugs. "But the thing is… I never thought about terminating it. I mean, yeah, the circumstances in which it happened were so terrible but I just… I couldn't even think about it. It's not that I'm against it, or that I think there's anything wrong with the ones who chose to terminate. I just… I couldn't even think about it. So I made arrangements. Set myself up with a long-term mission to one of the few Institutes in America that were still held by the Clave. When that same Institute was vacated a couple of months later I managed to slip away and make my way to a room I'd already rented. I'm sure my landlady must have thought me a refugee of some kind. And then Henry was born. He was so blue and so… perfect. I loved him from the moment I first laid eyes on him."

Clary says nothing, but Lydia can tell, by the way the redhead's looking at her, that she's wondering how that fits with the blonde abandoning her son shortly afterwards. Clary's not judging her, not at all, she just wants to understand.

"I loved Henry so very, very much, still do." Lydia confirms. "Enough to admit that I would never be enough for him. He needed more than I could give him and… and there were others who needed me. The Resistance, it was still just taking form, I don't want to be egocentric, but there were so few of us… I didn't want to be the reason it failed. And… even though Izzy was still married to Victor back then, I was already so in love with her… I couldn't leave, not without her. So I decided to give Henry the chance he deserved, with people who could be there for him, who could give him the life he ought to have…"

And he definitely got that, as the son of Alec and Magnus.

"You should tell Alec and Magnus." Clary decides.

"What?!" Lydia clearly isn't expecting what. "Why…?"

"Yes, all of it." Clary nods. "Because they deserve to know, because you deserve to have a chance. You probably won't be able to be my baby brother's mom, but that doesn't mean you cannot be family…"

"You really think…" Lydia can hardly believe it.

"I do." Clary smiles at her. "Just be honest with them. You've already done the hardest part Lydia. You made it here. You survived Valentine and his Circle. Made it all the way here, to NY. Now it's time for you to embrace the family you have, and the one you might still be a part of. Just give them a chance. Give yourself a chance."

"I…" Lydia takes a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you Clary."

The redhead just nods and watches her go. Several minutes pass and she says nothing, just stays standing where she is, watching the flowers without truly seeing them…

"I know you're there…" She speaks up eventually.

"You always do,"

A male figure seems to almost step out of thin air or, in a strange way, out of the rays of starlight and moonlight shining over the garden. He is tall, with golden-tanned skin, brown curls and blue eyes, wearing a white cotton tunic and tanned-leather armor on top, as well as leather sandals on his feet; though perhaps the most arresting are the huge white wings on his back.

"Which ought to make one wonder why you always seem so intent on waiting until I call you out, Ithuriel." Clary points out.

"One? Not you?" Ithuriel arcs a brow. "Maybe I just think it polite to wait for acknowledgment."

"If that were true I wouldn't have been forced to deal with you years ago." Clary points out in a drawl. "I mean, nowadays I'm almost used to you dropping in every so often. But back then? I'd have been quite happy if you'd just gone and never come back."

"You put up quite a fight, when it came to accepting your past, yourself." Ithuriel agrees.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Clary shakes her head, a part of her wondering why she's still fighting with him on that particular topic, he never seems to get it.

"Of course I get it. It's hard. But it's still you…"

"No, see, that's just it. The other Clary, she might have been a version of me. But she's not me, and I'm not her. She did an amazing thing, saving Chris, I won't deny it. But her life and mine, were entirely different, too different for me to ever see myself as her. We might share a name, somewhat, might be the same soul, but we're not the same person. Our different experiences, different lives, have made us different people. And I really don't understand why you insist on wanting me to see myself as an extension of her!"

"Because I feel like I failed her."

"What…?!" She… did not see that one coming.

"The last time I saw y… her, she summoned me, looking for help for her match, who was being used by Lilith, even if neither of them were entirely aware of it yet. I took too long, just watching her, feeling glad that she summoned me, didn't impart the knowledge she so needed promptly. And then the body I was using was destroyed, and I couldn't help her. I failed her when she needed me most." He exhales. "I'm… not like my siblings. Raziel would tell you I feel too much, am too human for heaven. And perhaps he's right. I loved my Ancarat so much… she and our children were my whole world. When I lost them I lost a part of myself, and it was only the knowledge that her children lived on, in their own offspring, and their children's children, that made things bearable. I always made an effort to visit them, at least once in every generation. Some visits went well, others didn't. So many awful losses, so many pointless wars…"

"That's how Valentine got you…" Clary blurts out, shocked by the realization. "You came to see your descendants, and he caught you…"

It wasn't even the first time something like that happened, but he chooses not to tell her that. It's old history anyway.

"You're one of my own now too Clary, and I cannot help but feel like I failed a version of you."

"That's why you've been so insistent on the matter."

"How am I supposed to make amends to someone who no longer exists?"

"But it's not just… her that doesn't exist anymore, is it? I mean, I've a fairly good idea what faults you're talking about, and none of that ever happened. So there's no need for you to make amends in the end…"

"Perhaps… My siblings always did say that my enduring love of humans, that my insistence on seeing you all as my own would cause me no end of grief, or trouble, that might bring about my end some day…"

"Ithuriel…" There's something in his voice, Clary cannot put her finger on what it is exactly, but she knows something's most definitely off.

"I'm afraid this is the last time we'll be meeting, my child."

"What…? Why?!"

"Why else? Choices made? Rules broken? In the end we all must pay the price for our actions, both the good and the bad…"

She knows that he won't tell her what it is he's done, but there's one thing she needs to know…

"Do you regret it?" She asks quietly.

"No," Ithuriel shakes his head for emphasis. "Regretting the choices that have brought me to this point, would be like saying I regret my Ancarat, like I regret Flannagán and Creiddylad and all who came after them… and I'd never do that. I've loved all of my children, and their children. Every single one of them, and whatever might come, I always will."

He turns away from her and Clary cannot help but turn to him, a hand on his arm, making him stop, if only briefly. Then she gets a bit more daring and goes as far as embracing him, just briefly, but its enough.

"Thank you, for everything." She whispers softly.

"Thank you, my child." Ithuriel says in return, returning her embrace, with both his arms and his wings, before placing a soft, tender kiss on her brow. "Be blessed."

And then he's gone.

xXx

"Idris."

It's the first Saturday of the month, which as far as the New York Shadow World is concerned, means that it's time for a meeting of the Alliance's Leadership. That means Alec, Magnus, Chris, Meliorn, Raphael, Lily, Alaric, Luke, Skye, Clary and whatever guests one or more of them might bring. The meetings are rarely too formal. But then, things had been pretty quiet, for the most part, since the situation with the humans stabilized. After several videos created by Skye, telling the history of the Shadow World, and how much they've done for humanity, and condemning what some human extremists were attempting, went viral, things have been much better on that front. The last time they dealt with any particularly important situation during one of their meetings was following the 'exodus' of the last remaining shadowhunters, when refugees began showing up in several cities, and before any of them knew about Valentine and his Circle's final fate. Even then it hadn't been particularly worrying, after all, they were just refugees, and no reports of any attacks or threats.

In any case, that was why no one really focused much on Clary's lateness to the most recent meeting, until she actually arrived, saying the name of the shadowhunter nation, and nothing else.

"What…?" Alec asks, confused.

He's far from the only one confused. It's almost like Clary's been having a whole conversation none of them were privy to… not the first time, even when other people aren't involved Clary's mind just seems to make leaps at the oddest times, leaving people wondering how she got from whatever the original topic was, to what she's saying then.

"Biscuit, why don't you start from the beginning?" Magnus suggests.

"We've been trying to replicate Choloakoyan, right?" Clary asks. "I mean, our relationship with humans is pretty good right now. But we have no guarantee it'll stay that way. Our people, all of our peoples, deserve to have some place, a sanctuary, where they can go. Some place they can escape to, if it ever become necessary. But obviously Choloakoyan isn't enough. Even all the Shadow Markets and current sanctuaries across the world, would never be enough."

"Choloakoyan cannot be replicated, we know that much." Chris points out. "What would be required for such a magical work…"

"Yeah, no, I'm not arguing that." Clary assures him immediately.

"You said Idris…" Alec murmurs, understanding dawning. "You mean to use Idris as our version of Choloakoyan…"

"It already exists, it's not just a city, but a country." A small one, but still. "And it's already concealed from humans, by work of Raziel."

"What about the Demon Towers that keep us out?" Raphael asks, serious.

"That's a common misconception." Alec says. "The Demon Towers don't keep any of you out. They exist to keep pure demons out. And even then, they only truly cover Alicante, Idris's capital. What keeps Downworlders out of the country are the wards that blanket the nation, which were originally raised through angelic magic, and have since been reinforced by warlocks… I imagine it'd be relatively easy to modify them to allow Downworlders in."

"And what about humans?" Skye asks, brow arched. "I mean, I understand this is supposed to be your hideout in case humanity ever turns against you and all that, but what about the humans that would rather be on your side? In that potential scenario we'd be in as much danger as you all."

"You cannot actually make wards to keep out humans." Magnus says as he too ponders the matter. "It'd be rather counterproductive, considering that we all possess some level of human ancestry, blood, to some degree or other."

It's the truth, some might even say it's the whole point. After all, while they might all have the blood of either angels or demons (or both) to a degree, they're also human. It's the whole reason they live in the world they do, and not in either Heaven or Hell!

"We'd need intent wards." Chris suggests. "Something like what was used when we made Pandemonium into a sanctuary maybe."

"Only at a much greater scale." Magnus agrees.

"The addition of seelie magic can only help." Meliorn offers.

"I think it's the perfect solution." Alec decides. "Beautiful even."

And it is, all the factions working together, it's like it's meant to be. And really, it's not like any of them are planning on leaving their current homes and moving to Idris any time soon. Like Clary said, the place is supposed to be a refuge, a protected place they all could go to, were the worst to ever happen. They might hope that things continue as they have thus far, peaceful, good, but that doesn't mean they cannot plan for the opposite. Like the saying goes: 'Si vis pacem, para bellum (If you want peace, prepare for war)'. It's not just a matter of showing themselves as powerful, to make any potential enemies think twice about attacking them; but also being ready in case a war ever does come, to make sure that those most vulnerable will be safe.

Clary takes a seat in a chair close to her brother while everyone starts talking about Idris, and what would need to be done for the place to be ready for them. Also talking about what they might do in the meantime. After all, there are some in their factions who, while still living mostly among humans, might be interested in going to Idris for breaks, or something; or those who prefer a certain level of seclusion (like Ragnor), and who might like the idea of living in a place like Idris full time. If so they might be the ideal caretakers.

"You're a genius, sister." Chris tells her quietly, a hint of a smirk on the corner of his mouth.

Clary scoffs and waves a hand dismissively at him. It's not like it's that big a deal. She just had an idea, the rest of them are the ones that will find a way to make it work. At least if they need angelic magic there's at least three of them who can wield it… and hopefully more to come.

xXx

In the end, setting up Idris as the new Shadow World Sanctuary ends up being easier than any of them could have ever expected. Ragnor agrees to take the place of the main guardian of the place, and the warlocks go as far as naming him High Warlock of Idris, which means that their numbers reach ten… there haven't been ten High Warlocks in centuries! The Brocelind Werewolf Pack no longer exists, all having fallen victim either of a nest of Kravyad demons (which the nephilim track down and exterminate as soon as they learn about their existence), Imogen Herondale's obsession with their deaths, or Valentine's experiments. Still, there's a few werewolves here and there, who're quite interested in the opportunity of living in a place where they can be more wolf than human, without the dangers that come with having humans around, so a new pack is soon formed. No vampires are yet interested in settling a Clan, but they believe the time might come. Arrangements are made for nephilim to come and go at their leisure, though most seem to consider Idris more of a place for a break, a vacation, than a homeland anymore. Even those of the older generation, who were among the last group of refugees, like Jia Penhallow and Elodie Verlac, have no interest in moving back to Alicante permanently.

There's only one Iron Sister left, and after much consideration and arguing she agrees to teach what she knows to a handful of chosen nephilim. She has no interest in being part of their new society and decides it's time for her to rest. As for the Silent Brothers… by the time any of them think to make it to the Silent City there's only Zachariah left, guarding the pieces of what once was the Mortal Sword. Turns out the rest of the Order chose to sacrifice themselves to destroy the Mortal Instrument rather to let it fall into 'impure hands'. As for Zachariah himself, Brother Enoch's last gift to him was the revelation of a way he can go back to being a nephilim, without the sickness that so crippled him when he first was one.

With the destruction of the Mortal Sword, the Mortal Mirror having been 'lost' for centuries, and everyone believing the location of the Mortal Cup to have been lost with Jocelyn Morgenstern's death… it's a whole new world for all of them. Only two people know better, regarding the Cup, but that's a secret they will only ever reveal if it's absolutely necessary; if a time ever comes when the survival of the world depends on it. Until then, it's better if all Mortal Instruments are believed to be well and truly gone.

Humans know that Idris exists, they also believe that, it being the Shadow World Sanctuary means humans cannot set foot in it; like a sort-of Promised Land where only those it was created for can go. It's not entirely true, but they allow the idea to stand, Skye goes as far as promoting it, believing that it'll help make them all safer.

The last step to setting up the place is reopening the permanent portals in the Institutes. And warding them with intent wards, to ensure that, whatever the future might bring, Idris will always be a Sanctuary.

"You've done a marvelous job, Piltontli," Xochiquetzal, out of Choloakoyan for only the second time in ages (and once again it's because of Alec), and present for the official announcement of Idris's new status, places a kiss on Alec's temple as she offers her congratulations for what they've achieved: "Well done, young one, well done."

Taking that as some kind of cue, everyone all around starts cheering.

"I'm so, so proud of you sayang…" Magnus tells Alec before kissing him, quick and dirty.

"I could have never done any of it without you Magnus." Alec replies, almost breathless. "You… you're my reason for everything. My motivation, my inspiration… You're everything Magnus. I wouldn't be who I am without you."

"Nor I without you Alexander, Aku cinta kamu, selama-lamanya (I love you, forever)…"

"Love you too Magnus, always and forever."

It's the beginning of a whole new life, a whole new world, for all of them.

xXx

Days pass, weeks, months, years… some things change, others don't, and life goes on.

Clary gives birth twice. The first time, fulfilling the promise made to her brother, she bears Meliorn's child, a daughter, whom they name Deana. She inherits most of her traits and coloring from Meliorn, except for her red forelocks, and the fact that she's incredibly petite, both things which she inherits from her birth mother. The second time…

The day starts like any other, seems to be no different, until the news reach them: Maia is dead. She was in the Philippines, living the life of a Marine Biologist, like she always wanted, when there was a landslide… it came hard and fast and a lot of people either died or were trapped. The humans asked for help from the Shadow World, Maia was among the volunteers. She was helping a family get out of the ruins of their house, when there was some unexpected ground movement. She managed to push the last two children out before it all fell on her. According to the EMTs, she died instantly, there's no way anyone, even a warlock, could have saved her.

Clary and Maia were no longer together, haven't been for years. Since the she-wolf decided that she couldn't deal with Clary's immortality. Even with the redhead's willingness to use a modified glamour that would have made her look like she was aging at a human rate. Clary kept trying to change her girlfriend's mind, until the day she arrived home after a patrol to find Maia and all of her things gone, a goodbye letter on their bed. It hurt Clary, Maia's choice to leave as she did, more than the actual breakup. And even though she moved on, for the most part, the nephilim never stopped loving the werewolf, so learning that Maia is dead hit her really hard.

Unlike other people in her family, drinking isn't Clary's choice when it comes to wanting to numb the world, to lose herself for a while. Instead she looks into the coming missions, finds the most demanding ones she can and gives them to herself. And thus loses herself for a while in the rush of battle.

She's not sure when it is that Jace joins her exactly. The last of the pack of drevak demons dissolves into ichor under her blade and when she turns around the blonde is just standing there, sheathing his own weapons. She says nothing to him, but when she goes after the Naga demon that was reported to have been seen in Riverside Park, he follows, and she doesn't try to stop him.

It's almost dawn by the time she's willing to call it quits. Jace keeps her company all the way to her apartment building, and is more than a little surprised when she invites him up.

"Don't read too much into it." She warns him. "All I want right now is sex. If you're okay with that. With just a roll in the sheets, no strings attached, then great. If not, thanks for the company tonight and you can leave now. I have no interest in a relationship right now."

There's a part of Jace that wants to ask if she's still in love with Maia, though he does know it'd be a bad idea, regardless of what the answer might be, the chances of the redhead giving one, and especially an honest one, aren't high. And truth be told, Jace has never had much trouble with 'no-strings-attached'. It might have taken him a while to move beyond the trauma Valentine's 'breeding program' caused him; but then sex was never the issue there. So he follows her up.

It still takes them both completely by surprise when, just a few weeks later, after several days being badly sick, they discover Clary's pregnant (she had barely any symptoms when pregnant with Deana, so she didn't connect it). That does affect him so, he cannot help but remember how many times that went so very very wrong (not with Isabelle, she was fine, is still fine, yet the fact remains…). Despite it being completely unplanned, and not considering herself ready at all to be a mom (and still not being interested in a relationship with Jace), Clary decides to keep the baby. She tells Jace, agrees to have him be a part of the baby's life; and after some arguing about it she agrees to give both their names to the child. So months later Ithuriel Bane-Herondale is born. The baby is a perfect mix of the both of them, with lightly tanned skin, strawberry-blonde hair and blue-green eyes with hints of gold; he's born a bit small but once he hits his growth-spurts he gets taller, quickly surpassing his mom in height, almost as tall as his dad. He will eventually meet, fall crazily in love and make a life with Silbhé and Lucas's youngest: Carys, who's also the only one in that family to choose to embrace magic entirely, becoming immortal.

And maybe one day, in the future, Clary and Jace will be more to each other than just co-parents… maybe not. For the time being they're friends, and co-parents of a pretty awesome boy, and that's enough. The future will be what it'll be, in the end.

The real surprise comes perhaps when, shortly after Lydia's death (it's nothing related to the Shadow World, just an accident), Isabelle reveals she's been under a glamour for over a decade, hasn't aged for a while. Not since she realized that so many of the people she loved and cared for were immortal (like Alec, who while not being her brother anymore, is at least her friend), or close to that already (like her son, by virtue of his additional angel blood alone, just like Clary and Jace were, even before choosing to embrace magic)… so she chose to stay.

It's not easy, sorting the mortality/immortality divide. Relationships tend to be quite complicated, and a lot of the time they don't work out in the long term (like with Clary and Maia), and even when they choose to stay together, the weight of the coming loss is always there. In most cases there's little choice to be made, they're either one or the other. Of course, there are those humans that may choose to be turned into vampires; and the warlocks and seelies who may choose to give up magic entirely, and with it their immortality, but none of those happen very often. It's actually a bit of a surprise to some, that despite humans as a whole finding out that supernaturals truly exist, despite the way vampires and immortality and other such things have been overly romanticized in the last century, few humans are truly interested in being turned.

"It's a fascinating idea, as long as that's all it is, an idea, a dream." Skye says at one point. "When you know it to be impossible you can make up all sorts of stories, imagine everything being perfect. Almost like a fairy-tale. When you're forced to face reality… It's like how children tend to dream about growing up, about how great it'll be, what they'll become, all the thing's they'll do. Yet reality… it's never quite like our dreams, is it?"

She'd know, not just because of the kind of childhood and adolescence she had, in the foster system, but with her own choices. She has standing offers, both from Josef Kostan, and from Lily Chen, to be turned, yet she refuses. Even in case of imminent death, Skye has no interest in being immortal. More than that, she isn't interested in being anything other than what she was born as: human. It's why she also turned down Alaric's offer to be turned into a werewolf so she could fully join the pack. As much as she might love Josh, Kyle and Emma, and everyone else in the New York Pack, she is who she is, and happy about it.

Alec knows that it'll be hard on him, when Silbhé dies, as awful as the loss of Jace was, when their bond broke, he and Silbhé have been parabatai for a lot longer. And they will remain so, until the day she dies. Both Silbhé and Lucas have just enough magic that their lives will be longer than most humans, but nowhere near as long as the immortals, and they've all accepted it. Jem, despite not being a Silent Brother any longer, remembers enough of their rituals and magics, when the time comes, he'll be there to help. It's something everyone in their little family is happy about, the knowledge that Tessa won't have to lose another man she loves, another husband…

So no, it isn't easy to deal with, but those among them who've actually chosen to be immortal, like Alec, Isabelle, Jem, Aline and Helen, and even Clary and Jace (their blood alone would have made them very long lived, but embracing magic makes them truly immortal), none of them regret it. They know things won't always be easy. Sometimes they might even be very, very hard. But they, none of them, will ever truly be alone and that… that's worth everything.

---

So... what do you think?

Okay, so, regarding the dead. Bad guys: Valentine Morgenstern, Robert and Maryse Lightwood, Patrick Penhallow, Sister Cleophas (she's not named directly, but it's said that one Iron Sister dies), all Silent Brothers except Zacariah/Jem die as well, for different reasons; it's also implied that Imogen Herondale died at some point, though not when or how. Max Lightwood dies, it's not explained how, and only vaguely the why. Maia Roberts also dies (natural disaster). Also, there's an epilogue at the end that addresses the passing of years, only one character is mentioned by name as having died, though it's understood that a number more die throughout the years.

Regarding the 'Lightwood siblings'. I'm not quite sure what everyone's reactions will be with how I've chosen to handle that. While initially they seem to be pretty good, I imagine at least some expected there to be an actual reconciliation before the end. I did consider it, I'll admit. Yet in the end it felt almost like giving in, or something. Especially with Jace. The way the story went, he did a lot of things against Alec, some perhaps out of ignorance, but others... and he didn't apologize. Because I don't think he's the kind of person who'd easily admit to being wrong, humble himself and apologize, make amends. Not saying it never happened. I did at least try to show that. The idea that it'd happen, eventually. Even if they'll never again be like before. Things like those can be forgiven, but never forgotten.

To those still wondering about Windsib. They guessed who Harry's birth-mother was. Guessed right. And that means I'm giving a fanart as prize. It can be about any character or ship from Shadowhunters (just no breaking the Malec please, it's the only nono in my list). You can have a detailed idea of what you want, or just general, I can adapt. When the fanart is done it'll be sent to my winner, as well as posted in my DA account, with a note added to this so you can go see it if you want.

And on that front, full-size of all my covers/posters and the series banner can be found in my DA account (all the fanarts I've created, for my fics, and other people's works, can be found there. I go by Princess-Lalaith there.

EDIT: If anyone's interested on trying to guess who killed Valentine, why, and what the weapon was. Whoever manages to get all three right will get a fanart from me (same conditions as before apply). If no one guesses all three in a month, whoever guesses more, or gets closest will be the winner.

This whole verse started because I got the idea into my head of Clary somehow managing to save Jonathan from Lilith's Burning Tower... and now here we are. It's insane! This has been a hell of a journey, which I've thoroughly enjoyed, I hope you have as well. And please, if you can, if you have the time (and the inclination) please let me know what you liked, what you didn't. What you might like to see in other stories of mine. This might be the last part in this verse, but I already have other projects in mind (they'll take a while, but they'll come).

As always, blanket permission to any and all who might want to create sequels, prequels, sidestories, AUs, remixes, fanarts, podfics, translations, etc. Just remember to give credit where it might be do, and let me know so I can add a link to this fic, and so I can go see your work!

P.S. To anyone here who might be fan of my "Hands and Hearts" fic, there's a podfic now! Read by the awesome AirgiPodSLV. You should really go listen to it. And look her up in the next FTH auction! (And me too! Why not? I tend to offer fanarts).

Well, that's it. This verse has come to its end. Thanks for staying with me for this long, and please don't forget to leave one more comment/review, and hopefully kudos/likes and even bookmark/favorite!

See ya around!