Hope Ascending

As the edge of blade came toward her, Isabelle spun away, whipping her own sword out as she turned. Though she didn't see it, she heard the satisfying clang of metal on metal and knew her aim had been true. As Isabelle came out of the turn, her attacker lunged forward and she drew the other blade up to meet them. Again, the satisfying sound of pounding metal. Suddenly, though, it didn't' seem enough to Isabelle to hear the defensive blows again and again.

I'll never kill that bastard Jonathan if I'm hiding behind my sword, Isabelle thought fiercely. All this guarding is useless! Urged on by her thoughts, Isabelle began to move forward, meeting her partner blow for blow, but becoming steadily more aggressive.

It was such wonderful liberation, mindless fighting! Isabelle could feel her blood pounding, her muscles tensing and flexing as she moved seamlessly from stance to stance, her mind processing information faster than she really understood. It was like being caught in a current too powerful to fight, a current that pushed you whichever direction it chose. Isabelle laughed and pressed onward. Across from her, her partner, a young shadowhunter looked at her, startled.

I really deserve a better sparring partner than this, she thought, blocking one of the blows directed at her and slithering closer into the shadowhunter's defense. I'm faster, stronger, and more agile than him. They just think I'm too weak.

Isabelle launched herself at the young man across from her, each of her blows more and more forceful, each one with more and more energy. She saw her partner's arm shiver under the force of her attack, and she knew victory was almost there. Faster, much faster than before, she began to twirl around, forcing him to try and follow her but failing; she jumped lithely, landing on her toes and kept going. Finally, in a desperate attempt to catch her, Isabelle's partner overstretched his arm and she attacked.

One moment, Isabelle was a foot away, swinging her blades in a threatening manner, the next she had passed beneath his reach and was only an inch or so from his face. The tip of her blade was positioned over his beating heart, and she was smiling. "I believe you just died."

The man swallowed and then smiled slowly. "Well done."

Isabelle tossed her hair back. "Yes, well, next time, try actually attacking me; I felt like we were dancing, not fighting."

He laughed. "A dance for you, but for me, it's my life! Let's just hope you don't step on anyone's toes."

The joke raised a smile from Isabelle's usual concentrated frown. "I plan to."

"In that case-"

"Lightwood!" Isabelle and the young man jerked apart as Jai approached them, her face set in a scowl. "What do you think you were doing?"

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Well, I thought I was sparring, but I must be mistaken."

"I told you," Jai growled, "you are to learn to defend yourself. You're not ready to start offensive training yet. You have to master the stances and maneuvers, first."

"What's the point?" Isabelle demanded, tossing her hair back. "I'm not planning on hiding while my opponent attacks me. How many demons out there let me recover myself before they attack? Besides, I think I can handle a little more by now."

"Well, I think not, and I'm the instructor," Jai answered shrewdly. "You may have some formal training, but you're nowhere near ready enough as you might think. You must build up your endurance, your stamina, teach yourself to endure."

"Endurance?" Isabelle snorted. "For what? How long can a fight possibly last?"

Jai shook her head. "You're thinking like a child, Isabelle. It doesn't matter how long the fight lasts, it matter how much of it lasts." When Isabelle stared at her in confusion, Jai waved the young man off and took Isabelle aside. "When you see a predator in nature, how does it hunt?"

"What do you mean?" Isabelle furrowed her brow.

"A wolf," said Jai. "When the wolf hunts, it doesn't attack at once, not if it can help it. There's no point in wasting its energy for a fast kill when it can wait it out. A wolf will stalk its prey for days before it strikes, just because the kill is so easy then. A burst of energy rarely gets the wolf somewhere, does it?"

Isabelle sighed. "But what's the point?"

"Why does the wolf conserve its energy?" Jai waited for Isabelle to answer, but she shrugged. "Because there are many struggles in its life, many trials, and it cannot dedicate itself solely to the hunt. The wolf must also remember to give some of itself to survival. You must remember that, Isabelle, or what will happen to you? What if you slay the demon, but are far from civilization, or are injured, or have no food? You must remember that killing the demon is half the battle; the other half is living to fight another one."

There's only one demon I want to kill, thought Isabelle. And his name is Jonathan.

"Besides, you must remember your limits," said Jai. "I know you must tire of hearing this, but you have only recently turned, and you're not ready for the physical trials of being a shadowhunter just yet."

"I'm not a human," said Isabelle flatly.

"No, but you're not yet a shadowhunter, either," said Jai with a sigh. "You are dismissed for the day, Isabelle; there's no point in keeping you here when you're just going to murder my students."

Isabelle bowed stiffly. "Yes, Jai," she said, and replaced her weapons with the collection in the training room. "I'll be here tomorrow, bright and early."

"I know you will be," said Jai with a tired smile. As Isabelle left, Jai watched her and wished her other students had half the drive Isabelle had. Give her two months, three at most, and she'll be ready for battle-but I'll never tell her that.

Isabelle privately felt that she was ready to face a demon already, but though it would have been rather presumptuous to say as much. Instead, she and her brother had enrolled in lessons, and, after a preliminary test, were both placed in very competitive, challenging classes. Isabelle had been mightily pleased with this, and she hoped beyond hope that she would soon be allowed out on patrols. Until that time, though, she contended herself with torturing the rest of her classmates.

As Isabelle left the training center, someone called her name. "Isabelle! Isabelle Lightwood!"

Isabelle spun about. It was her partner, the young man she had bested. Her lips turned up. "Hello."

"I was hoping I might catch you," he said, jogging up to her side. "My name is Roderick, by the way."

"And why were you hoping that?" asked Isabelle airily.

"What are you doing this evening? A group of us are going to a local bar in the city for drinking and dancing and anything else." Roderick surveyed Isabelle closely. "Do you want to come?"

Shouldn't we be training? Isabelle wanted to snap. There is a war approaching, and if we lose, all life as we know it will perish, and you want to go out dancing with me? "I'm sorry, but I have a prior engagement."

Roderick's face fell a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Another time then? I've never met a shadowhunter like you before; you're great with those knives." Isabelle began walking again, but Roderick kept pace with her. "Is it true you and your brother were humans only a week ago?"

Isabelle nodded sharply. "We were training before that."

"I heard about that too," he said conversationally. "Everyone's buzzing about it. You came here with the Herondales, didn't you? "

The thought of Clary and Jace made Isabelle's heart beat painfully. "I did, yes."

"Is it true you lived in the palace with Valentine and his son?" Roderick's eyes were gleaming. "And that you went back there only a month ago for the Cup?"

"You know the answer to that," said Isabelle, exasperated.

"It was a brave thing you did," said Roderick. "To face the Demon King himself."

"Jonathan Morgenstern is no demon king," said Isabelle. "He's a spoiled prince who murdered his father for the throne, and he wants everything his way."

"Like the Herondales?"

"What?" Isabelle drew to a halt, spinning on Roderick. She thought quickly, frantically, of the ceremony where her mind had been picked apart; she had made sure to hide the truth of Clary and Jonathan's horrible relationship. If the Silent Brothers had seen the truth and mentioned it…had she betrayed Clary's trust? "What do you mean?"

Roderick looked shocked for a moment. "Only that everyone's saying Jonathan is holding the Herondales prisoner in his palace."

He doesn't know… "Yes," said Isabelle, breathing out. "Yes, it's the truth. Clary is his sister, and since he doesn't know his mother is alive, he took her and Jace. I think he's rather lonely and wanted some living company."

"What was he like? Jonathan, I mean," said Roderick as Isabelle's face returned to its impassive contemplativeness.

"I didn't know him well," said Isabelle shortly, whishing the boy would go. "When I lived in the castle, my brother and I were servants, and when I did see him, he never spoke to me."

Roderick chuckled. "I can't really picture you as a servant."

Isabelle drew to a halt, giving Roderick a sharp look. "Have you only waited for me just so you could worm some interesting gossip out of me? Or was there something else you actually wanted?"

"If you're too busy to go out with us tonight, what about the day after next?" Roderick smiled dauntlessly. "We're a fun bunch, and I'm sure-"

"I'm really not interested," sniffed Isabelle. "There's too much work to be done here, leastways."

"Not interested, or previously engaged?" asked Roderick, his smile faded but a determined glint in his eye.

"Both, if you must know," she answered curtly. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Before he could say more, Isabelle spun on her heel and hurried away.

You'd think, Isabelle thought as she passed away from the training center and into the city proper, that with a war approaching that could determine the fate of this world, the shadowhunters would be a bit keener to train, and less interested in the daily gossip.

The truth, though, was that people had been asking her and Alec about their association to Clary and Jace ever since they'd entered into formal training. People were curious, to say the least, about who they were, where they had come from, how they had met Clary and Jace, and what they had seen of the outside world. Isabelle hated it, and not just because she thought is demeaned her, but because it brought to light many painful memories. Her only thought since the Clave had agreed to Ascension had been rescuing Clary and Jace from Jonathan; she had made an oath, and she had every intention of keeping it. But whenever people asked her about them, it only opened wider the hole in her heart where they had been, as well as stoked her fears.

Since their escape from the castle, Isabelle had been haunted by dreams of Clary and Jace's fate. She often wondered what Jonathan had done to them, and if they were well. Isabelle worried, too, that Jonathan had returned to his old habits and had begun again his sick, violent advances on Clary. She could never forget the look on Clary's face when she recalled her brother, and it was that look that drove Isabelle relentlessly to train.

I'm going to find them, Isabelle told herself firmly. I'm going to train, I'm going to march into that castle, and I'm going to get them back. But a small voice in the back of her mind whispered, If they're still alive.

That was probably the worst thought, and the only that plagued Isabelle most. She was sure Jonathan wouldn't have killed them, but…but what if he had? He despised Jace more than any other person she knew, and would have welcomed a chance to have Clary all to himself. Not to mention that if Jocelyn had told the truth, Jonathan was being controlled by a demon, and why would the demon care if Clary and Jace died? And even if they were alive, Isabelle feared that Jonathan might have worked some horrible torture on them, destroying the two friends she had known and leaving behind two broken souls.

They're alive, she said firmly. They're alive and Jonathan hasn't hurt them. Not too much.

As she pushed onward though the city, though, her thoughts of Clary and Jace were driven away by a large crowd gathered around what looked like a shadowhunter. As she passed, she caught an earful of what the man was saying.

"…we welcome new members to the Clave, and reward them handsomely. It is the highest honor in the land, grander than lords or ladies, for we are the defenders of this mortal world."

Welcome new members? thought Isabelle, rolling her eyes. You weren't so keen for me and Alec.

Since the successful Ascension of Isabelle and Alec, the Clave had begun advertising their cause: Accepting new applicants seeking Ascension. They had pressed both the Lightwoods to speak on their behalf, but Isabelle had refused point-blank, saying she needed to train. Alec had been spared a response when Magnus had loudly argued to objectifying two children. Still, the Clave had set to work fast, and already, men and women were chomping at the bit to join their ranks, to have a better grasp of the war, and, most important, to better their own station.

Human to shadowhunter, and all it takes is a drink from a cup. Still, Isabelle wasn't bitter because it had opened one other door, the only other one aside from Clary and Jace she was interested in.

The quiet neighborhood where Simon had made himself a home was on the opposite side of the city from the shadowhunters' quarters, but Isabelle had lived here once and knew the roads well. She passed a few familiar houses, stores, stables, but didn't stop to greet anyone. When she reached Simon's home, she paused, taking a deep, steadying breath.

I'm not human anymore, I'm a shadowhunter. I'm a shadowhunter and I'm a woman, and I'm not afraid of vampires or men…or making a fool of myself. Isabelle smiled ruefully. I won't make a fool of myself.

Carefully, she approached the door and knocked steadily. At first, she heard nothing, and she scowled before pounding harder on the door. If Simon thought he could ignore her, he had another thing coming; she could break this door down now. Her second knock elicited a heavy sigh from within, and she heard footsteps coming her way.

Alright Simon-

"Maia?" Isabelle said, flabbergasted, as the werewolf girl opened the door.

"Hey, Izzy, didn't think I'd see you here," Maia said, not unkindly. "How's shadowhunter life treating you these days?"

"Better than human life," said Isabelle, recovering quickly. She glanced down the street, hoping to be casual, but she knew Maia was far too shrewd to think she'd just stopped by for a friendly chat. "Is Simon here?"

"Yes," said Maia, smiling wickedly. "I think he's been tearing himself apart, trying to decide if he should come speak to you or wait."

"He what?" snarled Isabelle.

Maia raised her eyebrows. "Not what you were expecting to hear, I see."

Isabelle lost her temper, and all sense of shadowhunter decorum, at once. "I have been scared senseless for the last three weeks that Simon never wanted to see me again! Have been racking my mind trying to figure out how I could approach him! It's been making me sick, I've been so worried, and you're telling me-," Isabelle's voice fell to a deadly whisper, "-you're telling me, that all this time, Simon has been playing some game?"

"No," said Maia, back-tracking fast. "No, not like that. He's just been…well, you know how he is about being a proper gentleman and all."

"Proper gentleman my foot-"

"Isabelle!" Maia warned. "He has been arguing with himself ever since he heard about your Ascension, trying to decide if talking to you would even begin to fix the damage. He thinks you don't want to speak with him anymore."

"He's right about that," snapped Isabelle, tossing her hair back.

Maia's hand shot out and took Isabelle's forearm. "Listen to me. He thinks that now that you're a shadowhunter, you're too good for him."

"What?" Isabelle asked, truly confused. He's the son of a lord, and I'm just a farmer's daughter. How could my being a shadowhunter change how we were born? "What?"

Maia chuckled. "I've been speaking with him, trying to convince him it didn't matter to you, but he's insisting that now that you're a shadowhunter like Clary and Jace, you won't have time for him, especially because he's a vampire."

"And why would that matter?" said Isabelle sharply.

"Well, Downworlders and shadowhunters haven't always gotten on so well in the past."

"It's ridiculous, is what it is. I was born as much a human as he was; what we are now doesn't change how we feel." Isabelle stamped her foot. "Simon's a fool."

"Maybe," agreed Maia, shrugging. "But I think he's madly in love with you, so as long as you're willing to settle for a fool, I don't foresee any difficulties."

"Well-well, what makes you think I feel that way?" Isabelle stuttered, blushing a little at Maia's very correct assumption. "I just wanted to see that-to see that Simon was well and-"

"You're not fooling me, you know?" Maia said simply. "I see you two, and I know what I see. You don't want to admit you love him, fine, be miserable. But, I'm telling you, Simon is in love with you, and you'd be a foolish woman to give that up."

Isabelle was quiet a long time before she finally said, "Almost as foolish as Simon?"

Maia winked. "Almost."

Right, well, there's no point dragging point dragging this out anymore, thought Isabelle. Might as well make a go of it. "He's still here?"

"In the kitchen," said Maia, donning a cloak inside the door and stepping around Isabelle. "You might as well go speak to him before he runs. I'm sure he just heard everything we said."

"Brilliant," said Isabelle darkly, and then squared her shoulders and went to face Simon.

"What did you say the villagers called the demon?" Magnus asked, flicking through the pages of a very large tome. His strange eyes darted here and there, making Alec jealous. He had learned to read, but was not so practiced as the warlock, and he suspected he was more of a hindrance than a help. "I'm sure I've heard that name before."

"The Great Goddess, the Great Mother, I don't know…" Alec looked dismally around the library. "It seems like we could search for ten years and still not know who she is. There're more books in here than years I'll live."

Magnus snorted. "More than I will, too."

"The demon, though," said Alec, "she must be very old and powerful for the effect of her blood to be so strong on a shadowhunter."

"Yes," agreed Magnus, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. "Yes, but there are countless demons, all of them old, all of them powerful, all of them within summoning."

Alec sighed. "We can't quit, Magnus. Jace and Clary are trapped there, and if the demon is using Jonathan, I'm sure they're in danger."

Magnus opened his eyes and looked meaningfully at Alec. "You still think they're alive?"

"Jonathan wouldn't kill Clary," said Alec thoughtfully, "and Clary wouldn't let Jace die. She loves him too much, and she's too resourceful. If Clary is alive, Jace is too."

"I think I might prefer being dead, to be honest," Magnus said. "The alternative is to live in a court full of demons, at the mercy of a mad king. The Angel only knows what has become of them."

Alec tried to push the thought of his friends away. "Have you spoken with Jocelyn recently?"

"She's devastated, but she'd never let on to anyone but Luke," Magnus sniffed, returning to the book. "She was hoping that this was her chance to set things straight with Clary; this was when her relationship with her daughter could finally begin. Having that torn away has taken quite a toll on her." Alec heard a definite note of despair in Magnus's voice and glanced up.

"I feel bad for her," Alec admitted after a long pause. "I know she wasn't a great mother, and I know Clary didn't really like her, but…I don't know. When I see her, sitting there, looking like the grounds been torn out from under her, I just can't help it."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Magnus said gently. "Jocelyn isn't a bad person inherently; she's made some mistakes, that's all."

Alec nodded. "You said she speaks with Luke often?"

Magnus snorted. "Of course she does. She's half in love with him, though she'd never admit it."

"Why?"

"She's afraid, as is the usual reason." Here, Magnus's eyes snapped up, meeting Alec's. "She doesn't want to have her heart broken, so she pretends it can't be. Protection, but at a price."

Alec considered his words before speaking, and he found words slipping out of him before he could draw them back. "When this is over-this war, I mean-can we go away?"

Magnus looked startled. "Go away?"

"I-I only meant that, well, this city is amazing, but I miss the life I had before; a peaceful life where I wasn't afraid the people I love were going to walk out the door and never come back. I know you like it here, but…well, I guess I was to protect the things I love." Alec's dropped his eyes, unable to hold the warlock's gaze.

"If you want to go, I certainly don't see why not," Magnus said indifferently. "One city is as much the same to me as another; I've seen plenty. Where would you want to go?"

Alec's heart burst at his words, and he felt himself expanding with elation. "I don't know. Anywhere. Anywhere away from all this chaos and war and death. I can still remember what it was like when I lived on our family farm, and I'd like something like that."

"I suppose the rest of your family would join us?" Magnus asked, looking closely at Alec. "Isabelle and Max."

This drew Alec up short, and he frowned. "It doesn't seem fair, does it?" When Magnus just looked more confused, Alec elaborated. "I mean that Isabelle is just starting her life, and she's got so much ahead of her. I can't take her away from that…and then there's Max. Max deserves to have a better life than the one he had. He could be a shadowhunter, too; he could have an education and a future."

"It doesn't mean you can't train him," Magnus reasoned. "I'm sure, assuming the best, that we could convince our Herondale friends to join us. I'm sure they could train Max."

"I just don't want to be the reason Max can't have a life," said Alec after a beat. "I never got to have a childhood, and he could be so much more than I am."

Magnus smiled faintly. "If you hadn't had the life you did, we never would have met each other, and I assure you, Alec, I'm grateful for that."

Alec smiled across the table at Magnus and felt that strange sense of mingled peace and excitement that had become commonplace around Magnus. It was as though he were comforted by the presence of the man he loved, but anticipated almost anything.

"I had always just assumed I would spend the rest of my life rather unhappily," Alec admitted. "I thought I would just inherit my parent's farm and live there. I never thought any of this could happen, and I never thought, when Isabelle, Max, and I were taken from our home, we would end up here."

"Life rarely turns out the way we expect it to," agreed Magnus and he stretched before standing and glancing about. "Speaking of Max, we should go get your brother. There's no more hope in finding the demoness here. We'd have as much luck asking Jonathan as we would finding it."

Alec had risen as well, but he stopped, smiling rather oddly. "Magnus, why don't we just ask?"

Magnus looked at him, confused. "Ask Jonathan? Yes, I suppose that might go over well. Do you think we should sent him a letter, or just go in person?"

"I meant," said Alec, narrowing his eyes. "That you said most demons can be summoned. What if we summoned a demon and just asked who she is? If the demon is that famous, that powerful, she must be heard of by the others."

"An interesting idea," agreed Magnus, "but with one slight problem. We're in Alicante, Alec. We're in the very citadel of the shadowhunters, the heart of heaven on earth. Do you have any idea how hard it would be to summon a demon here? Do you know how many laws I'd have to break?"

"But what does it matter?" said Alec quickly. "We don't stand a chance of fighting Jonathan if we don't know where he's drawing his strength from. Besides, I don't think we need to proclaim to the Clave what we're doing. We can go outside the city circle, into the surrounding forest, and you can summon a demon. I'm sure it'll know who she is."

"Certainty of being caught…small chance of success…" Magnus said contemplatively. "Why not?"