And here's a new chapter! I learned how to page break too! Thanks to torifashionglory!
It was dark. Clary groped around blindly; frantically trying to find something she had lost. Then a speck of light in the distance cut through the empty blackness. She knew that color. Gold. It had come to save her. As she began to move towards it, tendrils of darkness wrapped around her trying to keep her in place. Tugging with all her might, she tried to continue forward, only making it a few more steps before she fell to her knees. The speck began to grow dimmer and dimmer getting farther away from her.
"Wait!" she cried. "Help me! Please!"
But the speck continued until it was a tiny dot in the distance before it winked out, like a lamp that had run out of oil.
"Save me." She whispered. "Don't leave me."
Clary jolted upright in her bed. She was shivering despite the thin layer of sweat that had formed on her body. A fierce headache came over her, along with the sound of ringing. Clary grit her teeth and tried to get out of bed to get medicine only to fall back onto her pillow, the pain in her head getting more intense. Okay, getting out of bed is a bad idea. Now what? Figure it out, Fray. She thought to herself.
And then, it stopped. Like it was wiped away completely. As if it had never happened in the first place. That was weird. How on earth? In the middle of her frantic thinking, she was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to draw. To create. Clary wanted to lose herself in something other than thoughts of gold.
Grabbing her sketchpad and a pencil, she began to lightly sketch, not fully knowing what she was drawing yet. Simon, she thought. Quickly, she outlined him on the paper, then began to fill in the details. She drew for a while, before moving to do several other rough sketches of people.
When the time came to fill in the details of the others, she could think of nothing. It was like she could see the outline but not the whole picture. Imagine looking through a fogged mirror at the people around you. You can't make out faces or distinct features but you see their outlines. That's what it looked like to Clary.
The people she saw felt familiar to her and she didn't know why. The only person she could see clearly was Simon, but that didn't make sense. How could she only see one person?
Two of the outlines were clearly male, although one was taller than the other. The outline next to Simon was female, and had long hair.
How could you draw people you didn't know?
Who are these other people?
Magnus couldn't understand why the Clave wanted to place a block in Clary's mind. After last night's conversation with Jocelyn, he couldn't help but be thinking about it the entire night.
The sun had just risen over the tops of the buildings and Magnus, still tossing and turning in his bed, sighed. He really pitied the young girl. He remembered the first time Jocelyn brought Clary to him, back before all of this madness. She was such a cute little thing with bouncy red curls and an energy that just couldn't seem to be contained.
He understood Jocelyn's feeling about lying to her daughter again. The last time Clary found out her mother kept her away from the Shadow World, Clary did not take it to well and lashed out at her mother. Now, Jocelyn was put in the situation again only by people who were supposed to want what's best for the Shadowhunters. The Clave.
The Clave was on a path of self-destruction that was for sure. They had no idea what Jace or Clary was capable of and trying to contain them in neat little bubbles would definitely prove disastrous in the end. In fact, Jace was going to just explode one of these days and then, they would really be in for it.
And when Clary remembered, which she would, eventually, the block wasn't strong enough to keep fiery redheads from remembering forever, there would be hell to pay.
Now where did I put my glitter?
Jocelyn had been sitting by her easel, trying to find inspiration for a new painting. During this quiet contemplation, Jocelyn found her mind drifting to the problems at hand.
How would Clary react when she got her memory back? Although she wasn't sure when her daughter's memory would return, Clary was undoubtedly stubborn and eventually, without help from anyone, the block would shatter. It was the wonder that the Clave thought they could control the war by simply erasing the most important player.
Jocelyn hated to admit it, but her daughter was the only thing that could stop Jonathan. He was out there and he would stop at nothing until Clary was his and the race of Shadowhunters was created anew. Valentine, Jocelyn thought. The crazy bastard started it all. If only she had killed him when they were together, when he trusted her. She could have prevented all this!
"No Jocelyn," she said to herself. "There was nothing you could do. Don't blame yourself."
In hopes of finding peace, she painted him. What she imagined her little boy to be like. White-blond hair, green eyes and freckles. Jonathan should have been her sweet little boy. She painted her sadness, her heartbreak, and her loss of her two children. Maybe they hadn't died, but they didn't trust her or they didn't think she loved them. Although she did admit, Jonathan did not feel right in her arms, she knew that if it weren't for Valentine, she would have loved him with all her heart.
While painting she grieved for her only daughter. After Clary had discovered the world of the Nephilim, the Clave desperately tried to keep her from destroying the very foundations from which they were built upon. She thought that the Clave would merely punish her, not take her away from everything and anything that she had found comfort in over the past two years.
Six months now. That was how long they had played this little game. Where Clary didn't know anything and Simon came over all the time. No one spoke of demons, wars, or magic. It was lonely in the small apartment. She got used to the people that came over and stayed all hours of the night, talking and laughing. It was quiet and entirely too peaceful.
From the living room, she could hear Clary and Simon playing some game on the Xbox. BAM! BOOM! WINNER! Then Clary's triumphant shout and Simon mourning his loss. A smile crossed her face that didn't quite reach her eyes.
So much time is spent wishing for old times.
Okay so I'm not entirely proud of this chapter, but I wanted to post something. Tell me what you think!
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