The long awaited chapter! Finally, we see what's up with Clary! Don't forget to review for me and tell me what ya think (:

Thank you so much JMDeaton as always, and for the awesome song recs!

Dear Agony
Just let go of me
Suffer slowly
Is this the way it's gotta be?
Dear Agony

Suddenly
The lights go out
Let forever
Drag me down
I will fight for one last breath
I will fight until the end

Dear Agony, Breaking Benjamin

Clary

Days and days pass, slower than ever. I do anything that I can think of to keep myself occupied - workouts, counting, even using my fingers to draw in the dirt that seems to cover everything in this cell. It's hard to do anything else when half of the time the torch is nearly burnt into darkness. I've never been afraid of the dark. I kill the things that move in the night for a living, so it doesn't usually phase me. But the dark crevices of the hallway beyond my cell, and the odd noises that seem to filter down here every so often, make my skin crawl.

At some point, a Silent Brother comes back down, but this time he's accompanied by Shadowhunters. Clave Shadowhunters by the looks of their uniforms. My heart leaps almost in hope. Am I finally leaving this place? Am I being given my trial?

"What's going on?" I ask them, my voice high pitched and crackly from the lack of use. I clear my throat and step back from the door as a Silent Brother steps forward and opens it with a soft push. Again, it as if it had never been locked. The two Shadowhunters step into the cell, and before I even have the chance to comply, I'm being thrown to the ground, a knee pressing uncomfortably into my back. I don't struggle as they put binding runes onto my wrists and yank me back up to my feet. "I would have let you put the runes on. You didn't need to tackle me," I tell them snarkily, feeling the fire that's coursing back through my veins.

"Shut up," one of them demands and shoves me forward.

"No need to be rude," I mutter and follow the Silent Brother in front of me. We twist and turn all throughout the underground city, and I can't tell if we've gone deeper underground, or up because of all the inclines and declines. It's just as disorienting as the lack of natural light.

We end up in the cavernous room with the speaking stars, and I know that I'm close to freedom. So close.

"Start running," one of the Shadowhunters says. I turn towards them and raise my eyebrows curiously.

"Pardon?" I ask, leaning forward a little bit.

"I said run. Take laps," he barks, using his finger to gesture in a circle around the room.

I scoff and shift my weight to one leg, pushing my hip out. "Why?"

"Because, the Clave wants tests done. Just do it," the guy says, sounding exasperated.

"Unbind me, I can't run with my hands behind my back," I roll my eyes. He sighs heavily and comes over to me, carving a releasing rune over my previous binding ones. I let my arms fall forward and stretch them out in front of me.

And then I start running laps. Dozens and dozens of them around the big room, my breathing never faltering from its steady pace. My muscles stretch and expand as I go, and I begin feeling better by the moment, like they're finally breathing again. I don't do well confined without any training, I need to keep moving, keep pushing myself.

"So, what's up, what is all this?" I ask the guys standing off to the side with a Brother. They seem to be writing something down. "What kind of a test is this, anyways? To see how long I can go before tripping and falling on my face?"

"Something along those lines," he sighs. "Now just run."

"Clave ordered?" I prod.

"Obviously," one of them scoffs in a tone that says what do you think? It makes me roll my eyes at all the attitude.

By the time my breathing starts to get a bit heavier, I've ran several miles. Neither the Silent Brother nor the Shadowhunters speak to me. It becomes tedious as the time drags on, and I wonder how long I'm supposed to do this. It's like some sick cosmic joke playing on a loop, and I can't find the damn exit.

"You may stop," a voice speaks into my head. I shudder and slow down my pace, eventually coming to a stop in front of the two Shadowhunters and the Silent Brother that has accompanied them.

"What's next?" I ask, eager to get something done. If they want to test me, fine. Test me. At least it keeps me out of those disgusting cells farther underground.

"Hand to hand," one of the guys says, taking off his weapons belt.

"No weapons?" I ask and walk out to the middle of the room.

"Wouldn't want to hurt you, little girl," he sneers, as if he's superior. I stop in my tracks and turn slowly.

"My name is not little girl," I hiss, stepping closer to him and invading his personal space. "So I suggest you learn my name, or shut your mouth."

I push him away from me and correct my stance, ready to go. I won't let some asshole from the Clave walk all over me. I don't care who he is, I won't tolerate it. I could take him down easily. So, I do.

Every punch that I throw, I throw my entire body into. He's surprised when I land my first punch directly to his nose, which I felt make a horrifying snap before blood came pooling out. Hasn't anybody heard by now? I was trained by the best. I personallydefeated the best.

I have speed over his lumbering frame, and it's not hard to dodge right under his blows and put myself behind him. I lunge for his legs, knocking them right out from under him, and he falls flat on his back. The bigger they are the harder they fall, right? The stupid oaf doesn't know what hits him when I climb up on top of him, my knees digging into the pressure points in the crevice of his arms and rendering them useless. One swift, solid punch to the jaw snaps his head to the side, and he's out.

The other Shadowhunter is on top of me in seconds, pulling me off of the unconscious guy. I don't resist, though. Instead I watch in amusement as he pushes me to the side and checks the other one over.

"He's taking a nap, leave him alone," I joke, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I'm given a withering glare that makes me roll my eyes. He gives the other Shadowhunter an iratze and he soon wakes up.

"You know," I muse, watching them closely. "Next time you want to pick a fight on the Clave's behalf, you should do some research on who your opponent is."

"You say that now, but you'll crumble under the Mortal Sword, little girl. I can assure you of that," the bloodied man says with a smug face. It makes me want to punch him again.

"Screw off, you moron. This little girl just whooped your ass. I bet your superiors will be so proud," I goad him, clapping my hands together slowly. He gets redder and redder, and it's not because of the blood on his face.

"Take her sample and throw her back down in the dungeons," he snarls and spits a mouthful of blood out onto the speaking stars before turning and leaving. How rude.

"Your hand, Clarissa Morgenstern," I look over to the Silent Brother that has been left with me and frown, holding out my hand. He procures a knife from within his robes and I watch as he slides it across the soft skin of my forearm, without wincing.

"So you guys are taking blood now? That's very modern," I sigh as he holds a vial under the small stream of blood that flows from the shallow cut. The Brother doesn't respond, but I take the time to amuse myself anyways. "That guy was a dick. He had it coming."

"The Clave works in mysterious ways," he says as he draws an iratze on my forearm.

Yeah,Bullshit ways.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound echoes through my head, so quiet and yet so deafening. It's all I hear for days, sometimes. I think it is days, at least. It's hard to keep track of time when there's no natural light to help keep up with my body's circadian rhythm. The only indicators are the two small meals brought to me each day, but even then they feel sporadic at best as if someone finally remembered me being in here. These disgusting "meals" consist of stale bread and questionable looking meat. The first few times I ate it, it made me want to vomit. After a very brief adjustment period, I got over the texture and taste, and finally accepted that I needed it to keep my strength up. It's not much, but it's enough to give me energy.

Time just drags on and on and on. Tick, tock. The clock is running, and the world is spinning, leaving me behind.

I mean, I know that my brother and Jace are doing everything that they can to help, but there's not much to be done in the first place. I'm stuck in limbo, and I know in the pit of my stomach that I'm not going anywhere unless the Clave decides that I can go somewhere. I'd rather be put under the weight of the Mortal Sword than stay in this dim pit with it's moldy blankets and no sense of time.

I just want out of this hell hole. I want to go and be anywhere but here. I want to breath fresh air. I want to see the sun again. I want to let my brother know where I am, and that I'm alright.

But when do we ever get what we want?

I don't know how long it's been since a Silent Brother has been down to bring me food, but my stomach says that it has been a while. I'll take the flavorless stale bread and slimy lunch meat over my stomach eating itself, any day. I know it doesn't actually work like that, but it makes me believe that I can feel my stomach turning in on itself, gnawing away. My mind seems to entertain the strangest of thoughts these days.

Like the thought of Jace and my brother breaking down these iron bars like avenging angels, armed with clean clothes and warm food. It's almost comical, but I could see it in my mind's eye. If I didn't feel like I was going insane, maybe I could hold on to that hope that they'll pull through for , Jonathan, at least; he's always been there for me, when he was around.

Jace would be like an added bonus to the pack, but I wouldn't blame him for dipping out either. I've caused nothing but trouble since we met. We're the same in that way. Both bringing trouble with our reckless behavior. Maybe that's what I like most about him.

Not like it matters much down here, though, where there's nobody to share these thoughts and struggles with. I even started speaking out loud, just to hear something. But there's something so haunting about the way that your voice comes back at you that keeps me from doing it again, it sounds so hollow and desolate. So instead,I'd rather brave the near silence, full of the deafening drip, drip, dripping.

What's even scarier is the lack of noise that the Silent Brother's make when they approach me. I didn't even hear the one that I find standing right there, in front of the closed iron door when I open my eyes, but there he is. He's not as startling as the other brothers. Instead, this Brother has hair peeking out from under his hood, and his eyes and lips aren't sewn shut; he looks,dare I say,nearly like a human being still. Neither of us move, and even without his eyes, I can feel him casting around for me, for my mind. Looking for me.

"Hello," I whisper, not wanting to be loud. The Brother pushes the door to the cell open, as if it had not been locked at all. In one hand he carries a tray, and my mind temporarily strays to the thought of a Silent Brother maid. It's quickly wiped away.

"Clarissa Morgenstern. You have friends that have been looking for you," he says into my mind, invading it uncomfortably. And as much as I'd like to, not even I can block it out.

"What? Who did you speak to?" I ask, sitting up on the hard, lumpy cot. My interest is piqued. He glides forwards, his robes never moving until he reaches an arm towards me.

In his hand, there's a blanket folded up neatly, one that's not moldy and tattered. Its green material is very familiar, and I tentatively reach out and take the blanket with both hands. Its soft material is like satin between my fingers, and I know it's the exact one that sat on the edge of my bed back home.

"Theresa Gray," he says. I grin, because of course Aunt Tessa would send someone for me. She knows someone in every stretch of the world. But I haven't heard from her since before my parents "died" the first time. Jonathan must have tracked her down. Both my head and heart are put at ease knowing that they're trying. Even if they can't quite get through.

"What happens now?" I ask as the Brother sets the tray down at my feet.

"Now we wait for the Clave." He turns and makes to leave, making my heart pound harder at the thought of being left here alone, again.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Don't I at leastget a trial?" I ask, trying to prolong the interaction.

"You'll find that one of your friends has left you a gift," are the last words spoken into my head before he melts back into the darkness beyond my cell.

I sigh and look at the blanket, folded neatly in my lap, and run my hands over it. Unfolding the blanket gently, I find a book sitting in it. It's hardbound cover is weathered to the point that I can't make out what it says. I turn to the title page and find A Tale of Two Cities. I smile, knowing exactly who sent it for me. Jace certainly would entertain the idea of storming the bastille for me, and I was crazy to even think that he that he would bail out on me. That crazy boy would do anything for me. Both of them would.

It feels like days before anybody is back again, and this time around, it's not a Silent Brother.

I have poured myself into the book left for me, bundled up in the soft blanket that makes me feel the slightest bit more secure than I actually am down here. I've gotten used to the spontaneity of the Brotherhood, and how silent they are when they come and go. I haven't, however, heard anything like I do now.

It sounds like thousands of echoing footsteps, rebounding all throughout the cavernous dungeons. It rattles in my ears and sets the hair on my arms on edge, prickling in anticipation. Something is different.

I set my book down and sit up in my lumpy cot, the blanket sliding off of me. My ears prick for voices, but there's silence aside from the deafening footsteps. It's eerie. Closer and closer it comes, gaining in volume. The first face that I can see coming down the dark hallway is a woman's, illuminated by the witchlight in her hand. The cell is opened by a Silent Brother, and in comes the woman and three guards.

"Clarissa Morgenstern," the woman says, her voice as strong and poised as her rigid posture. I stand up. "You've been summoned by the Clave. Tomorrow morning, you will be tried for treason under the Mortal Sword."

"Finally," I laugh humorlessly, challenging the woman in front of me. "Let's get this over with."

What I really want to say is, fucking bring it on.

Woooo, update! This chapter was awesome to write, I feel so much better writing in Clary's point of view again. Hope you all enjoyed it too (: