Chapter 12: Clary
Ow.
My head hurts. It's a pounding, aching headache, like a hangover after a night of drinking hard liquor. But I totally don't know how that feels. Ha, you're funny.
I can't see a thing. It's completely black. The darkness feels like it's swallowing me whole, creeping up my body, dulling my senses. I try to move, but the shadows keep me still. I want to cry, scream out for someone to help me, free me. But no one will answer my call.
Clarissa. The shadows to seem to whisper, its movement creating a voice. I shiver. Clarissa. It says no more than my name, over and over again. My limbs attempt to free once more but it's as if someone drew a paralyzing rune on my body.
My heart begs for Jace. Jace and his warmth, his light, his confidence, his protection. He would help me, let me go. But he doesn't know I'm here, wherever here is. No one does.
My hands tremble for Calohaya. Like Jace, the sword is warm, bright, strong, and sure. Nothing is impossible with Calohaya in my hand. But there's no sheath across my back for it be and even if it were in my grasp, it would fall from immobilization.
Clarissa. The shadows grow bolder. They jab at my skin, scrape and scratch. The tiny stings turn into a nuisance and I'm fighting the restraints once more.
I close my eyes. What can I do to escape this? The situation isn't hopeless. No. I need to find a way out.
Sudden warmth radiates against my skin. My eyes fly open, looking around in desperation. Jace?
It's not Jace. Instead, it's several pale apparitions, the faint outlines of almost-transparent people. Their backs are to me but there's no mistaking the runes on their skin, the weapons in their hand.
What?
Even though these…ghosts are mostly iridescent, some coloring cannot be mistaken. Many of them have bright red hair, such as the smaller woman to my immediate left. Next to her is a taller man, with hair the same shade. Beside him was another male, though his hair was golden. Who are these people?
The golden-haired man turns slightly, his own green eyes meeting mine. His face is rather sharp, beautiful, reminding me strongly of Jon and Seb. His mouth is set in a warm smile. This man tickles the edge of my memory, just barely. I know this man. I know I do.
A glittering catches my eye. The man is holding a golden sword, which has a dark inscription running along the blade…
Matthew Fairchild.
I stare at him, then looking to the rest of people around me. Are these all Fairchilds?
No. There's white hair—Grandfather Morgenstern. His portrait is a centerpiece of the manor foyer, I could never mistake him. So…Fairchilds and Morgensterns are fighting together? But wait, who has the black hair?
The man at Matthew's right looks back as well. He's raven-haired, his eyes a bright gold. I'm startled at how handsome he is. He reminds me of Jace the way Matthew reminds of my brothers.
There's a sword in the raven-haired man's grip as well. It's black and grey, almost identical to Calohaya otherwise.
Then that would make him James Herondale.
At the presence of these apparitions, the shadows retreat. Feeling overwhelms my neck, my face. I turn my head, looking around. I'm completely surrounded by Fairchilds, Morgensterns, and Herondales.
"What?" I breathe out, shock and awe battling with relief through my veins. By the Angel, what is going on?
"You really didn't think we'd just leave you to fend for yourself?" Matthew asks, his accent a strong British one.
"I…How?" I return to Matthew, who's fully turned around, leaning against his parabatai. "I hope you realize I'm very confused."
"Ah, yes, confusion. One of life's greatest troubles—"
"Just answer her question," James cut in, his tone donning on the same lilt as Matthew's. "We don't have time for your reflections."
"Who wouldn't have time for them? They are dreadfully important, you know. As Oscar Wilde once said—"
"Matthew…"
"Fine, fine!" My ancestor raises his hands in defeat, his attention coming back to me. "There is an issue. Something beyond your comprehension and quite frankly, my own. That means trouble. You are the only one that holds the solution. Both teams know this and both teams are keeping a close eye on it. You cannot tell anyone, besides your fantastically lovesick husband down there—"
"Watch it, Matthew!" A girl next to James glares at the blonde. Her hair is a light brown, almost like Mom's warlock friend, Tessa Gray. "That's my great-whatever grand-nephew you are talking about there."
Matthew matches her look. "Ignoring the rude interruption by Miss Herondale—"
"I'm Mrs. Blackthorn now, you fool!"
Matthew groans. "Ignoring the rude interruption by Mrs. Blackthorn, you can only tell—what's his name? Jonathan, Jace, ah, who cares—your husband. That's it."
Mrs. Blackthorn (Ms. Herondale? I'm trying to catch up but it's so hard) picks up where Matthew leaves off. "You will not be able to do this alone, either. There are certain people you can employ to your assistance. They must be related—directly—to the Lightwoods, Fairchilds, Herondales, Carstairs, or Blackthorns, unless they are Magnus Bane or your parabatai. Long ago, there was an incident and you, our descendants, must be the ones to right our wrong."
It's James who speaks last. "The issue will become clearer the longer you wait. Patience is key. You will not have to seek the solution either. But you must use your wit." The others face the darkness, preparing themselves. But James stays with me, his golden eyes, so different yet so similar to Jace's, burning into mine. "We will be with you every step of the way. Matthew is with you in Calohaya, I am with Jonathan in Dombra. You will see Anna Lightwood in Isabelle, Thomas and Christopher in Alexander. We are here and we will help. But you cannot rely on us because the dead and the living should not be intertwined like this. Raziel has allowed the exception on the grounds of the enormity of the situation, considering it affects him more than he would like." James nods. "I wish you luck, Clarissa Fairchild. Or rather, Clarissa Herondale."
In a flash, the ghosts are gone. And then I'm shooting through the dark, towards the light at the end of the tunnel. With a blazing shock of light, I'm hurtled onto an infirmary bed.
Watery images of Jace and Simon appear over my head as I try to blink into consciousness. They both seem to be arguing about something, and whatever it is must be important.
"Dungeons and dragons can be used in lessons. It stimulates higher-level thinking!"
Well, I was wrong.
Jace rolls his eyes. For a moment, I turn out, struck by the difference between his and James's. Where James's are bright and burning, Jace's are pale and cool. But the unmistakeable Herondale cleverness is still there. That probably won't ever change.
"Lovelace, shut up"
"But it's true! Imagine—"
"A world where you are perpetually mute? Already done that."
"You suck."
"Not as well as Clary—"
"Herondale, I will give you one more chance to stop talking about your 'wonderful' love life."
"At least I have one. You, on the other hand—"
Decidedly done with their bickering, I let out a small groan, shifting on the bed. Both men immediately shut up. Oh, thank the Angel.
"I'll get Brother Enoch." Jace shoots up, out of his chair, and heads out the door.
Simon leans over me. "Clary? Clary? Can you hear me?" His hand slips through mine, the bond between us strengthening almost to the point of burning. It's whirlwind of emotions, all mainly from Simon, who's beyond worried and scared to the point of anger.
I weakly squeeze his fingers, my muscles not yet at their max strength. With a great heave of effort, my eyes open, though they close straight after.
Simon relaxes beside me. "Thank Raziel," he mutters.
A door opens. I open my eyes slightly to watch three figures approach—two Silent Brothers and Jace. One of the Brothers, however, has both his head and hood lowered. Is he a trainee or something?
Jace sits down opposite Simon. He doesn't reach out toward me or show any reaction. His hands are clasped in his lap and his emotions are locked behind their walls. What's wrong? echoes in my head.
Clarissa, I'm glad you are awake, the Silent Brother says. You went through quite a bit of action.
I cough, my throat sore. "I'm still so confused," I admit, my voice weak and raspy. It almost makes me cringe. Thank goodness my father isn't in here right now.
Which, of course, is warranted for someone in your situation. I'll let your companions explain the events of yesterday to you while I fetch the remedies. The Silent Brother, who I dubbed as Enoch, floats away, the trainee at his heels.
Simon reaches behind him, grabbing a glass of water. Slowly, he assists me into a sitting position, pressing the cool container to my lips. I chug it eagerly, my parabatai chuckling. "If I'd known you were so eager to drink, I would've gotten some rum instead."
I would've hit him, but my muscles said no.
My throat calms its burn as the water slips down my esophagus. When I talk next, it's not nearly as rough as it was before. "You're an ass."
"Wiser words have never been said," Jace adds from his seat a safe distance away. I send him a worried glance, to which he looks away from. What is wrong with him?
"You said you were confused," Simon says quickly, as if desperate to get my attention away from Jace. "What do you want to know?"
The potential for answers draws me to Simon. "Hm, let me think. Did Magnus actually write that letter? Is Sebastian a Silent Brother? What the hell did Jace and I arrive during? How the heck did I get in the infirmary? And oh, I don't know, why Jace is so removed?"
Simon flinches and Jace hangs his head. "Well, uh, no, Magnus didn't write that letter. Yes, Sebastian is becoming a Silent Brother. You and Jace arrived during a demon attack. You were carried into the infirmary because you fell unconscious during the trek towards the front of the manor. And that last question is for Jace to answer," Simon says.
Momentarily, I let Jace go. "Who wrote the letter then?"
My friend shrugs. "No one knows. We contacted Magnus but he didn't have a clue either."
"Why—why did Seb become a Silent Brother?" That question has been making its way to the front of my head ever since I found it. Through the craziness of everything, I forgot, but there's no forgetting now. "Was that—that other Brother him?"
Simon nods. "Seb and Jon were out at the Paris Shadow Market when they were attacked by rogue Shadowhunters. Seb was mortally wounded and the only cure the Brothers could think of was making him one of them. General Morgenstern was hesitant but Seb said he actually wanted to become one of them and so it happened."
"Why isn't he back at the Silent City?" I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want Seb to leave, but why hasn't he gone back yet?
"He's going back with Enoch later on. He just came to say goodbye." Simon smiles sadly. "Jon's not taking this well."
I don't blame him. Seb's leaving, most likely forever, and he's not coming back. Once he becomes a Silent Brother, he can never go back. It's a stab at my heart to even hear of him leaving. Tears prick my eyes.
"Clary, Clary, shh, this is want he wants." Simon leans forward, wrapping his arms around my body. He can feel my sadness and wordlessly assists with it. I could ask for a no better parabatai.
"What will happen once—once he's gone?"
"I'm not sure, Clarebear, but I know that we'll get through this together. We always have."
I rest my head against his shoulder, trying to fight my tears. They won't help me. If my father saw me crying, he'd lecture me on how crying is weak. Because it is.
Simon and Jace must've had some sort of mental conversation or something because the former pulls away, standing up.
"I need to go to the restroom. I'll be back," he says. Simon needs lying lessons. Jeez.
As soon as the door closes behind him, Jace sighs, visibly trying to gather up courage for the upcoming talk.
"What happened?" The words spill out of me, quiet yet eager.
"You—you fell unconscious when we arrived, I'm sure you remember that. I was immediately concerned. It's not normal for a Shadowhunter to pass out like that," Jace begins. His eyes are cast down, almost ashamed. My heart's beating quick in anticipation. What is going on? "We brought you to the infirmary with your mom on our tail. She was the one who initially took care of you until the Silent Brothers arrived. After the fight was over, I came back in here and your mom pulled me aside. She had some…news."
"Is that what has you like this?"
He nods. "Yeah. It's not easy to digest, I'll tell you that much."
"What did she tell you?"
Jace looks up. His eyes are so open, I'm taken aback. Instead of being pale and cold, his face is glowing, so different from what it was before. "She told me that…Clary, she told me that you're pregnant."
You know that moment when your parents tell you some news that splits your world in half? Maybe you're moving or you're adopting a sibling?
Well, multiply that by a thousand and you might just get with in an arm's reach of how I feel right now.
I stare at him, open-mouthed. I realize why Jace looks so happy, so overjoyed—I feel it too. The sensation is dizzying. If I wasn't already laying down, I'd be flat on the floor.
The mere thought of having a child, of being a mother, is enough to make my heart explode. Never mind Sebastian becoming a Silent Brother, or some damned quest some screwy ancestors sent me on. I'm having a child—with Jace, nonetheless—and it's the best feeling ever.
"But—but, we just…" Me, forever curious, is asking questions despite the joy. I need help.
Jace nods. "It's the angel blood, Clary. It's a side effect. The baby going to develop faster than normal, though none of the Brothers are sure how much."
I laugh, staring at the ceiling. I always thought that having the extra angel blood was a curse, that I would forever be set apart. But maybe it's not so bad. "I can't believe this."
Jace smiles. "Me neither."
My fingers stretch instinctively, almost crying out for his. Jace seems to understand this message and moves closer, his fingers intertwining with mine. It's like flicking a switch.
Bursts of energy flow from the point where Jace's skin meets my own. It's a blossoming, tingling feeling, like someone injected sunlight into my veins. When I look down, I half-expect to see the blood vessels glowing through my skin.
The feeling moves down my torso and collects in my stomach, right in the womb. I can suddenly feel it, the child. I know it's there. It's not much but it's there. If I had any doubts (which honestly, I didn't) that Jace was lying, they are extinguished.
"Clary?" Jace leans over me, suddenly concerned.
My smile, if possible, grows even bigger. "I can feel it, Jace."
Those four words seem to set the same reaction off in him. Within seconds, I'm wrapped in a hug, Jace overwhelming my senses. Not that I'm complaining.
When he pulls away, I lay back, almost entirely spent. A lot of energy was just wasted, though I don't really care.
"Who else knows?" I ask, breathlessly.
"Your mother, the Brothers, Alec, and Simon. No one else. We were waiting for you to wake up." Jace looks back at me, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "I love you so much, Clary."
I close my eyes, leaning back, contented to the point of bliss. "Not as much as I love you." With those words, I fall into a warm sleep, the thoughts of children playing through my head.
My father always told me that crying was for the weak. That no matter how terrible the circumstances may be, you should never let tears escape your eyes. He always said that we should shut them away, shove them down.
Apparently, that doesn't apply to my mom.
It's time.
I've been waiting, ever since I woke up, for Sebastian to leave, permanently. For Brother Enoch to whisk him away to the depths of the Silent City, where he'll be for the next year. It was a painful, agonizing wait, but I knew it was coming. It had to.
That didn't make the exit any less hard.
The stone steps of Morgenstern Manor seem to freeze, the chill permeating through my shoes. It only makes the sending off party even harder.
I don't cry as Seb faces us one last time before he leaves forever. I can't. But the pain is still there.
His white hair, which used to match Jon's so freakishly, is gone, leaving a bald, runed head behind. His hood is still down, which means I can still see his eyes, which haven't been shut yet. They are withdrawn, empty, but I know Seb's in there, feeling just as terrible as the rest of us are. There are no words to describe the torture.
To my left is Simon, who has a warm hand on my shoulder. He and Seb were never the closest, considering my brother's quiet nature, but Si knows that I'm in pain and wants to relieve it one every way he can. Jace is behind me, Alec next to him, both silent presences. Their own emotions are locked behind steel doors.
To my right is Aline, who's watching with glistening eyes. I've never seen Aline cry and the possibility of it is terrifying. She's always been so tough, I'd never thought she could break.
My parents are in front of me. Mom is sobbing, her tears dampening my father's otherwise pristine jacket. Dad is like Jace—stone cold. There's absolutely nothing betraying his feelings, except for the fact that Dad is losing a son. It's almost heart-breaking just to watch them.
The worst is Jon. He's not cold, nor openly sad. He's just—empty. Jon's at the bottom of the steps, in between our parents and Seb. I've never seen him so lost. It's like watching a corpse. You know that there's nothing left. Seb seems to see it too.
With a glance toward Brother Enoch, Seb moves forward, just a step, and engulfs Jon into a hug. Jon clings to him, like that last landline you cherish before you float away into the sea. But like everything in life, he had to let go.
Seb pulls away, reaching back to retrieve his hood, retreating. Jon stares, not seeming to register Dad's hand on his shoulder.
Before the Portal takes him away, Seb looks back one more time, thought not to his twin. Instead, he looks to me, sending me a message.
Take care of him.
I nod. I'm his sister, it's my job. There's nothing else I can do besides help Jon get through this.
This satisfies Seb. With a final heave of his shoulders, he follows Brother Enoch into the swirling blue mass.
Gone, like a leaf to the wind.
I don't know how long we stand there, wallowing in our own sorrow. Seb is gone. Taken. There's a void in my heart that I'm not sure can be filled. I know Seb isn't dead but becoming a Brother is making him as good as.
Jon breaks the stillness. With a wrench away from my father, he takes off at a sprint, dashing across the field. I watch as he goes.
Mom tries to follow but I hold her back. She looks at me questioningly as I descend down the steps, slowly trailing him.
"Let me," I say, beginning to walk across the grass in front of the house. I can feel the gazes of the Shadowhunters behind me, even as I disappear through the tree line.
After about half an hour of searching, I find Jon on the shores of Lake Lyn. He's sitting, his arms wrapped around his knees, watching the water. He doesn't turn as I make my way across the sand, purposely crunching the gravel to announce my appearance.
I sit next to him, crossing my legs. We don't speak, just sit, sharing in the agony only siblings can feel. I know I'm not Seb, that I'm not his twin, but I'm the only one who can begin to understand.
"It hurts." Two words, more than enough. Jon's voice is scratchy, cracked, but audible. I turn my head, though Jon's still focused on the lake.
"I know."
"He's gone." Two more words, each a stab.
"Yeah."
Then he breaks.
It's like someone smashed a dam. Jon's shoulders heave, water pours from his eyes. He doesn't make a sound but the silence between us is deafening. It's thick with pain, tense with loss.
Wordlessly, I scoot over, my small arm managing to snake its way across his broad back. Jon leans into me, his head buried in the crook of my neck.
We stay there for a long time, silent and hurt. The sun sets and rises. No one comes to look for us.
I used to think the Morgensterns were unbreakable. That we are a family of steel. But I was wrong. We're not invincible. We're merely battle-hardened.
Because at the end of the day, it only takes a drive at the heart to break our wills apart.
I DIDN'T TAKE THREE MONTHS TO UPDATE!
YESSSSS!
Are y'all proud of me?
Anywho, I just wanted to ask you guys for your opinion on something real quick. Do you guys want me to make Jocelyn/Luke happen, or keep it Jocelyn/Valentine? I can go either way. It's up to you! And just as a bit of insight, the original ships (Malec, Sizzy, Clace, MAYBE a bit of Jemma) will be happening. They are coming, don't worry.
Stay safe guys!