Alec Lightwood was nearing the end of a late-night patrol with his siblings when he encountered a noisy group of shax demons battling a warlock near the edge of city park.
"That's the high warlock, Alec," Jace shouted from somewhere off to the side. Ah, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, known only as "Bane" to Nephilim and Downworlders alike. Quickly, Alec unleashed an arrow aimed at a demon that had sprouted up behind the warlock. An unearthly shriek filled the air until it vanished into a reeking puff of black smoke.
As the Shadowhunters jumped further into the fray, Alec guessed the battle had started long before they arrived. The warlock's stream of magic eked out in small, stuttered spurts as if it might be running out. His olive-colored skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and as Alec moved closer, he felt waves of distressed exhaustion wafting from the warlock.
Together, they all made quick work of the remaining demons. Bane managed to blast the final one and then started to sway on his feet awkwardly. He looked over to Alec with a startled gaze, as if he had only now noticed the sudden company of Shadowhunters. A moment later, he dropped to his knees.
Alec reached him just in time to stop the mage's body from crumpling completely to the ground. He held him upright. "Are you okay?"
Bane looked up to him but didn't speak. He breathed heavily and made no effort to mask his warlock mark; yellow-green cat eyes shone brightly, but they were unfocused.
"Are you hurt?" Alec tried again, working to shake away the sudden flutter in his chest that bloomed when he took in the sight of the warlock's unsteady but golden gaze.
Before he could get an answer, though, Bane's enchanting cat eyes slipped closed, and his body slumped heavily into Alec's arms.
"Was he poisoned?" Alec's sister, Izzy, asked as she came to kneel beside them. She began looking over the unconscious warlock's body. "That's odd. I don't see any wounds."
"Let's get him to the institute," Jace suggested, already turning to lead the way. Alec shifted Bane's limp body in his arms, scooping him up off the ground before quickly following his Parbatai.
A little more than an hour after the battle, Alec sat beside an infirmary bed, waiting for the warlock to awaken. Alec's father had instructed him to pack an away bag and then accompany Bane to his office. Though he was confused by the order, he was raised as a solider and didn't ask questions.
Eventually, Bane began to stir. His face winced in pain a few times before his eyelids slowly dragged open. The golden cat eyes were still on display, causing Alec to suck in a surprised gulp of air as he stared down at them. The eyes were bright and piercing; something about them kept taking the Shadowhunter's breath away.
It took another moment for Bane to fully awaken, but once comprehension was again within his grasp, he jolted upright on the bed. "What am I doing here?" he rasped angrily, sniffing the air. He began patting himself down to check for signs of injury.
Alec watched the man's hands as they moved, nails painted black and fingers adorned with numerous silver rings. "You collapsed after banishing the last shax demon in a random sighting earlier tonight. We brought you here until you regained your strength."
Recollection stirred in the warlock's eyes, which suddenly shifted to a normal shade of deep brown. Alec offered him water, but Bane simply pushed at the glass in Alec's grasp, swatting it away with a backhanded wave.
"I didn't ask for assistance from the Shadowhunters."
"Would you rather we left you alone to fight them off? Or, left you in the middle of the city after you passed out?"
Alec smirked when Bane simply bit his lip to suppress a growl, saying nothing further.
"If you're feeling well enough, my father would like to meet with you."
"Your father?"
"Yes, Robert Lightwood."
Bane rolled his eyes. "Of course, this night just gets better and better. So, you must be Alexander, the head of the New York Institute's oldest son."
"Alec," he corrected and gestured toward the door. Bane shook his head in exasperation but slid off the bed and made his way to the infirmary's exit.
The high warlock and the young Shadowhunter sat in the briefing room of the New York Institute, listening to Robert Lightwood explain the proposal.
"Absolutely not!" Bane nearly barked. "I will not consent to having a Shadowhunter stationed in my lair. You make me regret my decision to inform you of my current … condition."
Robert continued, "Please don't regret that decision. We are grateful that you came to us last week to notify us of the sudden change in your magic. As High Warlock, you work closely with the institute to keep peace during these dark times. We all need to know what we're dealing with."
Alec sat silently as he tried to keep up with the current conversation while piecing together elements of prior discussions his father seemed to have already had with Bane.
Apparently, Bane had recently experienced an unknown affliction, which significantly weakened his magical abilities. He had shared this development with his father as a courtesy, despite his deep distrust of Shadowhunters in general. Alec took that decision to mean Bane valued integrity, regardless of his angry, dark demeanor.
Now, Alec's father wanted to provide Bane with the protection of his institute … by relegating Alec himself to become a temporary personal security detail for the warlock.
"There's no need for this," Bane persisted. "I have some of the wisest warlocks in the world working with me to find out what happened and how to restore my full power. It should only be a matter of time."
"But what happens until then, though?" Robert asked. "Do you really think that tonight's attack was a random occurrence? What if someone is targeting you? This impacts the Shadowhunters of New York as well."
Bane crossed his arms over his chest, pursing his lips and scowling. "Though it's not at full strength, I still have my magic. I can still protect myself. And the institute's wards that I built remain fully operational, do they not?"
"True. But, from what you've explained and what happened tonight, it looks like not only are your powers much weaker than usual, but the magic you do still have depletes itself quite quickly. Is my understanding correct?"
Alec watched rage flash across Bane's face, certain that the warlock loathed hearing a Shadowhunter lecturing him over his own magic.
"And you don't want to alert the local warlocks to the situation just yet until you have more information so as not to create a panic, is that right?"
Robert was answered with a stoic nod from the mage before he continued.
"This is for your protection, Bane. You need additional security until you can find the source of this recent magic diminution. And Alec, well he can benefit from a little time spent away from the Institute."
Alec grimaced at his father's words but remained silent as well, avoiding Bane's now curious expression aimed right at him. Robert still wasn't over the fact that Alec had refused to marry Lydia Branwell – even to help further the Lightwood family name.
"You're asking me to trust more than I think I can, Lightwood," Bane finally spoke. "How do I allow such a thing, when it's evident that Shadowhunters are responsible for unleashing something sinister to feed on my power?"
"Circle members," Alec interjected the distinction.
"Still, Shadowhunters," Bane reiterated matter-of-factly. Alec moved to argue, but Robert cut him off.
"Enough. Though we don't know anything for sure, and it might very well be the Circle who's behind this, it doesn't change the fact that you can only benefit from our help – as difficult as that is for you to accept, Bane."
Bane stood up suddenly and slammed his hands against the table in front of them, conceding. "Fine. But this should be sorted out in a matter of days, and when it is, you will back off. This does not give you any clout or say in Downworld affairs – now or in the future."
Bane rubbed his temple, feeling a headache forming. Ignoring it, he turned to Alec. "I'm sure you need time to gather your things. I will see you tomorrow then?" Bane moved quickly to the door.
"I have everything I need here." Alec pointed to the small duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
Bane glared at him, irritated to not even have a final night alone in peace. "Of course you do. Well, hurry up then." He tiredly swung his arm, and a portal immediately appeared, ready to take them to the High Warlock's penthouse loft.