Really short chapter here, but I feel that this is the right length. Hope it doesn't spoil your enjoyment!

Disclaimer- lolz I ttly own mrtl instrumnts!111!

Her final test. Her last ordeal. Her ultimate tribulation.

In the midst of that moment, she should have been planning her act that would end it all. But what she was thinking instead was something completely different.

Her epiphany.

Everything that had happened today was about to end, but it hadn't happened for no reason. At first she had resented the warlock, hated him for what he had done. He'd taken the ones she cared about the most and replaced them with beings with their faces that weren't the people she knew. They had all the qualities that she had originally wanted, with none of the good that she'd come to appreciate. She'd taken them for granted, never once thinking about how easily they could be taken from her.

Friends had to be earned. You couldn't just treat your friends like dirt and expect them to be there for you; you had to treat them the way you'd like to be treated yourself. You couldn't gain somebody's love by simply being there for them, or being nice to them or even bringing them back from the dead; you had to love them for who they were, ignoring all of the flaws and seeing who they really are. You had to push aside all the negative things, all the imperfections, the faults, and instead put together an image of all the good things about them, what makes them unique, what sets them aside from everyone else. Love is unconditional. She shouldn't have wished them away so easily simply because they weren't treating her right, because in reality she was in the wrong.

The warlock had told her that the reason he had cast this spell was to teach her a lesson, to make her appreciate the things she had because not everybody was lucky enough to have them. It was true; friends like Simon were extremely hard to come by. How many friends would stick by you after you almost, and occasionally did, get them killed a few times? And Jace, not as many boyfriends would be as devoted, as committed as he. Not to mention Luke, whose paternal instincts were so real that nobody could believe he wasn't her biological father. She'd been raised by her mother alone, without her father, but Luke acted like her uncle, the man in her life. Now he and her mother were marrying, and she couldn't wait. They deserved each other, they were a perfect match.

Never again would she take anyone, or anything, for granted. Every day she would tell them that she loved them, never leave without saying goodbye. It may sound cheesy, but you never know when somebody is going to leave you. Shadowhunters grew up expecting death, but Clary was talking about a different type of loss, not due to death, but due to growing apart, to drift away. Now, at least if someone was taken away from her, at least they would leave knowing she cared.

She thought about all the things she loved about the people she loved: Luke, how he cared about her as if she were his own biological child; her mother, Jocelyn, how she valued her daughter's safety before her own; Magnus, how he put his loved ones before his vain needs; Isabelle, how she brightened every dull situation; Alec, how he would protect his family to the death; Simon, how he was truly a loyal friend who would stick with her no matter what; and Jace, everything about Jace. The look in his eyes that showed that he never wanted to lose her, how he would always fight for her, how he would push her to be the best she could be, how he would go to the ends of the earth for her.

She looked at Jace, and fully looked at him with her artist's eyes. She noticed every angle; every shade of blonde in his tousled hair that had grown so long it was falling into his eyes, his long, but not overly long, eyelashes, the sharpness of his collar bone. She remembered how she used to lose herself in his golden eyes, how they told a sadder story than what was perceived on the outside. She remembered everything the pair had conquered: darker times like when they stormed the Hotel Dumont to find Simon, when the Seelie queen had forced them to kiss in front of the court when they were believed to be siblings, when he had been killed by his father. But then there were happier times: their first kiss in Hodge's greenhouse, watching the fireworks after Brocelind Plain, when the Angel had revived him. She remembered watching his chest begin to rise and fall, his eyelids flickering open to reveal a pair of striking eyes the colour of gold, how her heart had skipped a thousand beats. The ecstatic feeling that nothing else could beat; her love had came back to her.

Then, she turned to Simon, who stood as livid as a vengeful warrior, and reminisced about the memories which they shared. There were lots: they had known each other for ten years after all. She thought about the day where they first met, they were both starting school for the first time. She didn't know anybody, her mother never really took her out anywhere, and neither did Simon. He was sitting at the corner of the classroom on his own, drawing a picture. It wasn't very artistic, merely the typical childhood drawing of people who resembled potatoes with legs rather than your family. She'd joined him, pulling up a chair at his table, and began to draw with him. Even at five, she was more artistically talented that most children her ages, although not brilliant as her people still resembled lolly sticks rather than pineapples or potatoes. They'd began talking, and they instantly became best friends. That was the way things worked back then; you'd become best friends with anyone and everyone. Nowadays it was harder to trust people, but she trusted Simon wholeheartedly. She knew that Simon would stand by her no matter what they did, an aspect which wouldn't be found in most friends. But Simon was no ordinary friend; he was her best friend for life.

The Simon she was looking at now was more impatient; he kept glaring at her like he was demanding an answer. Instead she shook her head.

What she needed to do right now was to say the words that she meant more than ever, the overdue words that brought a tear to her eye as she said them.

"I love you both, and everyone else, my family, my friends," Clary said firmly, without any hints of falseness, as if she truly meant it, which she did, "Just the way you are."

Caelan nodded, with an expression that read 'that's exactly what I mean'. He whispered something inaudible then closed his hazel eyes that had changed to sparkling violet. A flash of powerful, purple light filled the room, so bright she wasn't sure why she didn't lose her vision, and a gust of wind blew through the air.

Then everything went black, but for once, Clary wasn't scared at all.

Apologies if this seemed a bit boring but the point was for Clary to realise what Caelan meant and for her to learn her lesson. The next chapter will be the last chapter, the epilogue where she finds that everything has gone back to normal.

Want that to come quicker?

Then review :D