Clary: Howwwww can you see into my eyes, like open doors, leading you down into my core, where I've become so numb…..
Lacie: *sits back and hits the audio button so that everyone can hear*
Clary: Without a soul… my spirits sleeping somewhere cold, until you find it there and lead it, back…..home.
Chris: *suddenly sings too* Wake Me Up!
Clary: Wake me up inside! (Chris: I can't wake up) Wake me up inside! (Save me!) Call my name and save me from the dark! (wake me up) Bid my blood to run! (I can't wake up) Before I come undone, (save me!) Save me from the nothing I've become!
Clary: *continues* now that I know what I'm without, you can't just leave me, breathe into me and make me real. Bring. Me. To life….. (Chris: Wake me up!) Wake me up inside! (I can't wake) Wake me up inside (save me!) Call my name and save me from the dark, (wake me up!) Bid my blood to run! (I can't wake up!) Before I come undone! (Save me!) Save me from the nothing I've become! Bring me to life….
Chris: I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside…
Clary: Bring me to life…. Frozen inside, without your touch, without your love, darling! Only you are the life among the dead!
Chris: All of this time, I can't believe I couldn't see, kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me!
Clary: I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems, got to open my eyes to everything!
Chris: Without a thought, without voice, without a soul, don't let me die here, there must something more!
Clary: Bring me to life!
*music stops*
Clary & Chris: Okay we're done
Lacie: The songs not over though! D:
Clary: That was our one and only song that we're going to put in this story, and that's that
Lacie: But-
Chris: That's that!
Lacie: Aw. Fine then. For you lovely readers, that was Chris and Clary singing 'Bring Me To Life' by Evanescence. Is it just me, or does it describe their situation so perfectly?! No? Just me? Okay then, I was thinking of this because someone before said that she pictured a song when she pictures Claris reuniting, and then I was looking through my music and I was like HEY THIS FITS YEAH (thank you InvictuSLegions) So yeah, Anyways, please review, because it makes my heart sparkle, not like Edward Cullen, but like Magnus. Oh yeah, give some of dem Warlock sparkles.
I do not own the mortal instruments, sadly, oh so sadly. I CALL DIBS ON CHRIS AND WHITE HAIRED CLARY MWAHAHAHAHA MINE
Thank you to all of those who waited patiently while I worked on my midterms :D Love you guys so much and you all deserve medals for happy readers, but alas, all I can give you is my love, and Claris. I could give you some Claris. Just not now :P
Enjoy!
Jace POV
He didn't know what was worse; feeling a dead emptiness inside, or feeling anger burn at your insides.
His boots snapped a defenseless twig in half as he stomped past it, trying to organize through his scrambled emotions. The sun had risen quite a while ago, and his disheveled hair and the dark rings beneath his eyes showed how he hadn't slept all night.
The sun was to his back as he entered Brocelind Forest, no longer intent on running. He just didn't want to go back to Alicante just yet.
He felt his frustration and disarray swarm his mind, where hours earlier a blank sadness had enveloped it. His mind still hadn't processed what had happened, all he knew was the dread that entangled in his heart and how he knew that she was gone.
Again.
Only this time she had seen more determined to leave.
Green emerald eyes seemed to haunt his thoughts, and they tortured him more now more than ever. But the constant reminder didn't make him feel hopeless, it made him feel angry. A dark fury that burned beneath his skin, much more malevolent and purposeful than the Heavenly Fire that had been flushed out of his body weeks ago.
The only thing was that he didn't know who to be angry at, whether he was angry at Clary, or Sebastian, or even himself. Or perhaps he was just sick of everything. The twisted turn of events had smacked him off of his feet and left him in unknown territory, and he didn't know how to navigate himself from there.
He had chased after Clary, feeling, wishing, hoping, that if he turned one more corner, he'd see her. It was what he told himself as he ran like crazy through the streets of the glass city. Just turn this corner, and she'll be there, or maybe if I go through this aqueduct, she'll be hiding on the other side of the pillar. He knew they had been naïve thoughts, but it was all he needed it to keep him going. More than once he swore he saw a flash of her hair as he barely turned a corner, swearing she saw turn around through another street. He more felt her than saw where she actually went, guessed her intentions rather than look for clues of her tracks.
This led to him getting to the gates of Alicante just before they locked the city up. He knew he triggered an alarm, but the waved at a guard to let him know that it had been him. Then Jace ran long and hard. Putting every ounce of strength into his legs as he pumped them through Brocelind Plain, where there weren't any trees or such to take cover from. It should have been clear and simple to see a person running through it.
But it wasn't.
Clary was nowhere to be seen, either she had dived into the river that flowed from Lake Lyn, or she had ran through another direction. Perhaps she was planning on hiding in the mountain range that ran around Idris. But there was no way in being able to tell. Not only was it dark as it could be, the new moon in the sky providing no light, and the fact that he had nothing, not even a witchlight, to illuminate shadows, but outside of Idris was large. It would take some time to find one person, and in the time that Jace checked every crevice, every hole, Clary would be long gone. And with the speed he know knew she possessed, for all he knew she could have been past Idris' borders already.
That didn't stop him though. In a mindless daze, he absently knew that Clary wouldn't stay in Idris. But where could she go to? That was his only question. Either way, she wasn't going to be here very long. If she went to such lengths to escape, why stay? So he kept running, until his runs lapsed into jogs, and his emptiness let in anger.
And that was why now, as the afternoon sun started to shine on him and he wandered through the withered and cold forest, his footsteps were laced with hate and a certain heaviness. Shadowhunters were supposed to be light, quick, silent as can be, but right now he wanted to scream, to tear his hair out, to lash and kill something. The forest was known to be the home of random rogue Downworlders, packs of savaged werewolves and insane vampires covens. He hoped his stomps would arouse the sleepy werewolves and vampires, even though he knew the vampires wouldn't come out into broad daylight, but he just wanted to take his blade and slash it into the nearest creature, whether he would regret later it or not.
He felt reckless and didn't care. His honed skills told his feet where to go as his mind trailed back again to the sound of a chain whipping past his head.
She had swung at him, but was it because she wanted to hurt him, or because of something else? The swing was quick and its target was easy to identify, the target being his head, but he had easily avoided it.
That was what confused him. Jace had seen her fight, and she was good. She was excellent. The whole time he watched her, she could see how much she had improved. Her attacks were flawless, her moves precise, and she was fast. Really fast. Sebastian fast. The thought pricked at him, but he tried to ignore it, that bastard was in hell, but like Valentine, it appeared that even in death, some people don't know how to not affect others.
Moving away from those thoughts, he went back to Clary. How had she gotten that good? It was as if someone had taken Sebastian's years of practice and smashed the, into her body.
Just like the way her eyes and hair resembled him…
But if she could fight exactly like him, why had she missed? If she was as much of a fighter as Sebastian, that chain should have soared right for his temple, bashing his head in. He wanted to believe it was because she didn't want to hurt him, that she loved him and that's why she restrained herself.
How he wanted it to be true. That Clary loved him, because to him, his love for her was the only thing that made sense. Everything else in the world was a complete maelstrom. Even himself. He was a wreck, even Jace had to admit, he wasn't being himself, though he tried to deny it, but the truth was plain and clear. He just wasn't himself as of late, and it was all because of Clary.
It was like Clary had become a sort of stabilizer for him, a constant that had to stay by his side or else he'd go insane. Or was it just love that was tearing him apart? He's read enough to know that love could make people do things that would have never imagined themselves doing.
To love is to destroy…he thought bitterly.
And right now, he wants to destroy.
He had found a small hill, covered in snow and upturned tree roots, and he rounded it and found what he was looking for. At the foot of the hill, There was a small entrance, barely visible because it was camouflaged with branches and such, making the small, doggy sized opening almost invisible to the untrained eye.
Well good thing his was trained.
Acting on recklessness and total anger, he ripped the root and such away from the entrance, and crawled into what he knew was a vampire lair.
The small exterior fooled people into thinking that the opening was only a small hole, perhaps for some woodland creature to hibernate in, but once going in, Jace immediately saw that the opening immediately dropped straight down, a chute of about 3 feet wide went about four meters down, then beyond that the trip downward hit a 90 degree angle, and went straight forwards, probably off to more tunnels and rooms where the vampires slept in during the daylight hours.
He got back out, and placing his feet in first, he fell like Alice fell down the rabbit hole. Only he wasn't chasing watch carrying rabbits. He wanted to find some irritated blood suckers.
Landing lightly on the balls of his feet, he walked casually into the dark, cold tunnel, his Shadowhunter eyes immediately adjusting to the dark. What little light penetrated through the entrance quickly faded into ribbons, then slivers, then only sparks of illumination, until the light of day was gone as he stepped through the even tunnels. They actually weren't even, as he walked he could feel them sloping downwards with each step.
Jace didn't even bother to stay quiet. He allowed his footfalls to echo down the dirt walls. The sound of his seraph blade swinging through the air. He even whistled to hide his need for violence.
He hoped they were in large numbers. A vampire during the daylight hours had the strength and gracefulness of a baby deer.
It wasn't long before he heard the rustle of an angry, awoken Child of the Night.
"What do you think you're doing here, Nephilim." He spat.
Jace had arrived in a large, circular room, where large alcoves were dug into the walls, housing a vampire in each. Some even had two or three, their bodies entangles in each other. About half of them were disoriented and groggy, the presence of the sun outside weighing heavily in them. The other half were sleeping like babies.
These vampires must be newly Turned…
Only stronger vampire can withstand being awake in the day, and it takes an even stronger vampire with much more experience to be able to up to top notch. Simon's reason for being able to do so is because of his mystical 'daylighter' power. Even so, Simon is much more stronger and attuned to the night.
"Do you have no tongue, boy?" the vampire in front of him addressed him again. He was the only one up and standing, signifying that he was the leader, and the oldest. Probably the sire of most of the lot here too. "Shame if you don't, whoever did must have had quite the honor to rip it out."
Jace gave a lopsided grin, "I can assure you, my tongue is working just fine."
"Oh," the vampire grinned toothily, revealing his projecting fangs, "Well then, I guess that'll give me the honors of ripping it out for you." At that some of the awakened vampires in the alcoves rose, flanking their leader at what they sense would be a fight.
Jace calmly tapped his chin, as if he was pondering something, "Hm.. rip my tongue, rip my tongue... no, I don't believe that's going to happen, don't you think?" he casually asked the vampire, not stepping away from the growing and awakening Downworlders.
The vampire stepped close enough to spit in his face, "And why wouldn't I?"
Jace smiled. "Because you're too busy getting my seraph blade out of your right earlobe."
The vampire's features barely had time to assume an expression of confusion when he quickly took his blade and pierced the end of it into the vampire's ear. The vampire screeched, his hands clawing at the protruding weapon. Jace stepped back as the horde of awakened vampires attacked him, quickly pulling out another blade as he fought against them. He jumped from here to there, a strange dance emitting as he teased the vampires into a rage.
He felt his blood pump with adrenaline, the anger he'd been feeling in the woods moving his limbs. He ducked as a vampire tried to claw their hands into his chest, no doubt wanting to pull his heart out.
The vampire leader rose up, the blade still in his earlobe, "I'll get you for this! I'll rip your tongue out with my bare teeth!"
"As much as I bet you'd enjoy that, I hate to inform you that I am straight. I don't play for the opposite team, buddy." He arrogantly smiled, then was suddenly knocked to the ground by the vampire leader. They rolled and tumbled onto the ground, Jace trying to avoid the gnashing fangs attempting to chew his face off. "Though I have to admit, that is a nice piercing you've got there," he commented towards the seraph blade, "Mind if I take a look at it?" he yanked the blade out of his ear, causing another loud screech to emit from the vampire. He jumped up, just as the vampires rounded on him again. One managed to scratch his arm, causing five parallel red stripes to glow brightly from his skin. It only made him all the more exhilarated.
He fought and fought, ignoring the sleeping vampires, for even in his current state he wasn't low enough to kill someone when they were sleeping, and he didn't want the fighting to end. He didn't want the enemies to stop. He didn't want his body to be still. He didn't want his anger to run out, to be pacified.
Because once the fight was done, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't have anything to physically hit. He'd have to think of what to do, and that thinking would lead to Clary. And thoughts of Clary would transform his anger into devastation. It wasn't fair, because at least now, he had something to hit, something to kill. His enemy was known and he could physically deal with it. But his real problem, the one that would soon come to light again, was one that he had no idea how to face.
He had gone into the vampire coven with no idea of what he would do afterwards, and he still didn't know. He assumed he'd have to kill all of them. Not like he's never done so befo-
"Stop!" The vampire leader shouted.
Jace wasn't about to listen to him, but what surprised him was when every vampire in the room stopped moving. So he automatically stopped. He was in the middle of a ring of them, his clothes bloody and dusty. His dark gold eyes stared into the dark large pupils of the vampires.
"What?" Jace asked, he pointed towards the exit, "You want to take this outside? I don't think that'd be very fair though, you know, sunlight and everything."
"Get out." The vampire leader growled.
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Out," the vampire hissed, pointing towards the tunnel leading away from there, "I don't know what your problem is, Nephilim, but it is not with us. Now get your hide out. We want nothing to do with you."
The vampire group stared at him, and Jace felt like a high school student that had just been excluded from something.
They were….kicking him out? Just like that?
"Oh come one," Jace chuckled, "Can't handle me?"
The vampire only intensified his stare and held his arm more rigidly towards the exit. The circle of vampires opened up, leaving a space for him to walk out. Jace stared at all of them, feeling strangely left out.
As he stood there, his mind caught up with his actions as the full idea of the fact that he had just walked into a vampire coven that had not been doing anything wrong with the intentions to kill smacked him in the chest. Clary would be very disappointed in him. Not knowing what to do with the situation, he slowly backed away, feeling as if he had to apologize, but he didn't.
Climbing out of the hill, he was out in the forest again, not even bothering to cover up the entrance. He ran away from the spot, feeling shame and disgrace blossom within him.
Though there was no winners, he felt as if he had just lost.
Just as he has earlier thought, he no longer felt angry. He felt a desperate need to do something. He felt hopeless and empty, powerless.
He ran past a rather large tree, he stopped in front of it, scrutinized it, then climbed it to as high as it would allow him. The height soothed his nerves, if only a little bit.
Knowing not what to do, he was about to draw an iratze on himself, at least trying to fix something, when he stopped, his stele poised right above his skin. It wasn't just him physically, emotionally, he was broken too. When Clary had lashed out on him, she didn't hit his head, but she didn't miss either. She had left a gaping hole in his heart.
And no iratze could ever fix that.
Knowing this, he left his wounds be. If he was broken on the inside, why fake it and pretend that everything was fine on the outside.
What's happening!? He thought, It's like I'm missing something.
He wanted Clary. He wanted to hold her in his arms that very second and never let her go again. He wanted to talk to her until he couldn't talk anymore. The she could talk and he'd spend the whole time listening to her voice.
What had gone wrong? Back in the courthouse, what was that? What did Sebastian do to her? He had just wanted to get near her, speak with her, to make her understand that he just wanted to help her. He just wanted his Clary back.
But something was different about her, his little red head had changed, and in ways that not only alluded him, but even made him feel apprehensive. What if Sebastian had made Clary just like him, even though they all saw her appearance change. What if he did something to her mentally, to make her forget about all her feelings towards him, to make her forget about everyone she loved.
What if she was gone forever?
No.
She wasn't gone, he knew she wasn't. The very fact that Alec was still alive and that he currently didn't have a chain embedded in his brain was because she cared enough to not hurt them. If Clary was changed, she was still in there, and he could still do something about it. But what? What could he possibly do? Even if he tracked her, what would he say? He's tried just talking to her, but that didn't do anything. He felt as if he had to pin her down physically until she understood that they were not her enemies.
By the Angel he had to do something now before he drove himself insane.
Pulling out his cell phone, he climbed further up the tree, trying to find some signal. Damn magical boundaries, though he wasn't exactly fond of mundane technology, it wouldn't hurt to have some things that weren't affected by the Shadowhunter world. Phones, for one, could be very useful.
Swaying from tree branch to tree branch, he balanced himself precariously on a thin twig, the wind threatening to blow him away, as a bar appeared on his phone.
"Finally!" he muttered as he scrolled through his contacts, finding Magnus's number, (he actually put the warlock's number in it this time)and waited impatiently as the phone rang and rang and rang. Jace was just about to hang up on the tenth ring, when someone answered it. He kept quiet as several voices sounded from the other end.
"Do I have to answer him?" an annoyed voice that Jace recognized as the warlock said. He sounded distant, as if he were holding the phone away from him. "I'd much rather just hang up."
"No! He's been gone all day, ask him where he's been," his parabatai said, the sound of his voice was followed by the shifting sound of what he disgustingly noticed were bed sheets. "Please, do this for me."
"Oh alright," Magnus' voice rose an octave, his voice making Jace want to gag, "Only because you asked so nicely. But after we're done with this, don't think you're going off to find him. Let him come back. Besides," more rustling sheets, "everything is just fine here…" Magnus made a noise in his throat and before things could get a bit yaoi-like, Jace spoke up in order to prevent his ears from exploding and his stomach from getting nauseous.
"I hate to interrupt this nauseatingly grotesque reunion, assuming that you two have literally kissed and made up, but I'm still alive over here. And my ears are still functioning just well. Well, no I think they may have died a little." Jace said seriously.
"Ba!...er….umm….Jace!" Alec's voice sounded flustered and he could practically see his parabatai's red face, "I….umm..ergg… duh…..Where have you been?"
"Oh good! You can form sentences, I would stay away from that naughty warlock, Alec, it appears he's slowing your brain capacities." Jace mocked.
"Depends what you mean by naughty." Magnus's voice carried through the speaker, the seductive tone to which he directed it towards his brother making Jace throw up a little in his mouth. He felt happy for Alec, he really did, but the warlock was pushing it.
Just ignore them….and the fact that they're probably in bed together…oh Angel, Images! Images! He pinched the bridge of his nose until his mind cleared.
Before Magnus could start talking again, he said, "Magnus I know you're going to say flat out no, but I need you to do me another favor. I need you to track Clary, maybe take one of those chains that she was using, or take a look at the place where she was held up before the courthouse. Perhaps now that Sebastian is gone the magic preventing anyone from tracking her no longer works."
"I'm afraid I can't do that."
"Look, I know you think that we take advantage of you, and only call you when we need you, which is true, well maybe except for Alec now, but-"
"No Jace. I mean I really can't do it." Magnus replied, his tone dead serious.
Jace paused for a second. "Why?"
Magnus breathed in and out before answering, "Because I've been forbidden by the Clave to assist in any ways at all in the process of finding young Clarissa, I'm not the only one. You also been forbidden to do so, and your family, and Jocelyn and Luke, and anyone else close to her. Meaning Simon, Maia, and that werewolf Jordan as well."
"When was this announced?" Jace demanded.
"You would have known about it had you come back home like a good little boy."
"I'm not a little boy and I haven't been one for a very long time. Now why is the Clave making this stupid decision!?" Jace questioned.
"Down boy," Magnus commented, "Don't eat your phone, how else will you get pictures of me and Alec when we go to Mexico?"
"We're going to Mexico?" Alec's voice asked, amazed.
"Oh, yes." Magnus said, "This reconciliation of ours must have a celebration. What do you prefer? I could rent out all of Aguas Calientes, or I could hire people to reenact the fall of the Aztec Empire."
"Weren't there thousands of people who fought though?" Alec asked.
"Oh I have people." Magnus replied.
Jace groaned, "You two could go to Atlantis and I wouldn't care!"
"Atlantis?" Magnus said in a bored tone, "Been there, done that."
"What!?" Alec was astounded.
"Magnus….."Jace warned.
"Did I not say 'down boy'? The reason why we're not allowed to is because the Clave thinks that someone helped Clary escape. Even though it happened right in front of a massive audience, no one believes that Clarissa escaped alone. They think she has an accomplice, or more."
"Then why would they not allow us to find her? This only gives us ever more the reason to find her!"
"They think we helped her escape, Jace." Alec added softly.
"…Us?" he echoed.
"Yes," Alec replied. "They think that we somehow managed to help her escape. Given that we all knew that the Clave wanted to punish Clary somehow, they think we might have compromised them so that she could escape. They also think that it was very convenient that we found them first in Greece before they did. They don' trust us coming into contact with her."
It made sense, in a way. But it still made Jace angry. They thought they'd helped her escape? How? Did they miss the whole part where Clary turned into supergirl and yanked the heavy chains from the ceiling, or had Jace imagined the whole thing? No one had even spoken with Clary alone, much less discussed ways to help her get away. Jace hadn't been alone with her, neither did anyone else, he thought anyway. The Clave had always been cruel and heartless in his mind, but now that idea intensified.
The Law is hard, but it is the Law.
Rules are rules.
Jace has never intentionally broken one of the Clave's laws. Despite the bad boy image he liked to conjure, he was actually a model citizen. He did what he was told, obeyed the rules, walked the clean road.
The Clave was his life. He was a Shadowhunter and he lived by the rules set by it. He played the game according to the book.
Well, the game's changed, and this time, he was coming up with the rules.
Besides, everyone goes through a rebellious streak, right?
His anger was back, but now it pointed towards a mass very clearly.
The Clave.
"Jace?" Alec's voice was like a puppy dog asking for food, "Jace? Are you still there?"
"I'll see you guys later, I'm coming back."
"Um…okay, but just be careful alright? Don't get into any trouble."
The sentence stopped him halfway between hanging up, the vampire coven brought back to mind.
"Oh Alec, me? Get in trouble? Since when?"
Chris POV
You know, hell wasn't so bad when you had someone to drag along with you. Emphasis on the drag. Especially if they were even more miserable than you.
The little gremlin was very stubborn, and Chris found himself having to reestablish threats again and again because the gremlin refused to walk three steps in the direction they were going without trying to convince Chris that where they were going was very bad and that this was a very bad idea.
"Do you want to know what the Phlegethon feels like on your hide?" He would growl every time the demon would stop moving.
"No Master!" He would reply reluctantly as he trudged a couple of steps ahead of Chris so that he could keep an eye on him. The little devil was wasting his time. Was time even the same here? What if he wandered hell for years and when he got back it would only have been a few days, or hours on Earth? Or perhaps it was the complete opposite. What if he only spent a few days here (though he didn't know how long he'd been there) and when he got back he would have learned that ten years had passed?
For some absurd reason, he'd rather lose his hand again than go through that. Maybe that's why hell seemed so eternal, because it wasn't actually eternal, it just felt like it was.
He felt himself start to let his mind wander, start to twitch from one ludicrous thought to another, and he quickly stopped himself.
This was another major reason as to why he kept the demon around, not because he was going to use him as an appetizer for the demon lord (though that was still an option), but in order to have something to keep his sanity in check. The constant dwindling of the creature gave him something to focus on, and even though most of their talk consisted of him threatening to cook him alive, the conversation distracted him from letting his mind tumble down the precipice and never return.
Even now, he felt the energy of hell prodding, picking, trying to mold his mind into something senseless and bestial. Though he wouldn't have minded, he had something to accomplish, and that was getting back to Earth.
Back to Clary.
"Master! Another one!" the gremlin spoke in that rocky guttural voice it possessed, pointing towards a demon that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Reaching into his dirty jean pocket, he pulled out a sharpened stone. This had become routine for him and the gremlin, as every while or so they'd' encounter a demon, and to save his strength, instead of directly fighting it, he'd throw a sharpened stone at the many veins on the ground, allowing it to erupt as fire from the Phlegethon burst out like a geyser, a small one, roasting the creatures in seconds. They'd done this so many times, that Chris was starting to worry that they were leaving a trail behind them.
Ignoring that for the moment, he took the sharp stone and threw it hard at a vein about seven meters to his left, where a demon was creeping forward. He didn't even bother to look at its grotesque features as the vein erupted and the creature hissed and was burnt by the liquid flames.
Continuing to walk along with the Phlegethon, Chris found himself conversing with the gremlin.
"So, demon, you got a name?" he asked airily.
The demon made a low noise in its leathery throat, "What does it matter to Master." The word master was almost said sarcastically, so Chris reigned in the noose he had around its throat so that the creature had its hands up, grasping at its almost nonexistent neck.
"What was that? I don't think I heard you." he pulled the makeshift rope from his clothes closer to him, lifting it few inches so that the demon was on his toes. "Repeat it to me." His face portrayed a somber smile.
"I mean…Unuaq. My name is Unuaq." Even though it was impossible, and not all demons have lungs, this particular one was looking rather pale, even through its skin.
(Lacie: Don't wonder where that name came from. I typed in random letters, and that came out. I was going to name him Asdfghjkl, but for pronunciation purposes, we'll stick with Unuaq. I can change it if you guys want)
"Unuaq. That's a…..rather sad name." Even Chris commented, releasing the demon from his grasp and motioning it to keep walking.
"It's actually the best way I can say it in human language." Unuaq replied, "It's actual pronunciation is-" Unuaq made a bunch of noises coming from the back of its throat, sounding like a garbage disposal. Sadly, Chris could understand the demonic language that Unuaq was making but his human vocal cords could not replicate the sounds, so he stuck to Unuaq. Nevertheless he understood its strange clicks and groans, and strangely, from the noises, he discovered a few things….
"You're a female?" he mocked, a smirk on his face.
Unuaq slumped ahead of him, its head, her head, bobbing down, "Do not speak of it! It is a disgrace for my kind to have genders, therefore we do not distinguish ourselves."
"But your kind of demon does have genders, how rare…"
"Do not speak of it!" she pleaded, "Most of us are what your kind considers to be male, I however, had bad luck. I am, not male-"
"Female."
"No! No need for specification!" Unuaq shook her head.
Chris felt himself chuckle. A demon ashamed of its gender. How ironically humane.
"Do you pick your own name?" he asked further, just because this was entertaining to him.
"Did you pick yours?" she questioned instead, to which she immediately blanched, strange for a demon, but instead of reprimanding her, he answered.
"Depends which name you're talking about, because I only picked one of them, and I'm not using that one, currently."
"I know your name," Unuaq said, after a few minutes, "You're not unknown here."
"If I wasn't unknown, then why did you and your little group back there decide to pick on me?" He could still feel their bite marks in his thigh and did not regret it one bit that he broiled them all alive.
"We…..we thought that since there was only one of you…..and more of us…" she ended it there.
"Ahhh, strength in numbers." He clicked his tongue, "That only works when you know the power of your enemy, and since you all already seemed to know my reputation, it was a very stupid decision."
"I knew that," she grumbled lowly, kicking at the ground, "I told them. They didn't listen."
Chris nodded. "And see where that got them? Now they're Phlegethon food and you get to come on a lovely tour of hell with me."
Unuaq did not reply.
They walked and walked, for who knows how long, and with every foot step Chris could feel his energy being enervated (meaning lessened, weakened, not strengthen) from him, as if it was draining into the ground and being fed into hell every time his foot connected with the red orange ground. He was, for the first time in a long time, starting to feel the real effects of fatigue and malnutrition. Sometimes he found that there were black dots appearing in his vision, and at first, thinking they were just part of the landscape, he'd ignore it, but then when he'd blink or turn away, they were still there. He had a light headed feeling, and that was starting to worry him. Not because he was worried about his own safety, but if he collapsed he wouldn't be able to keep going.
That's why they were walking instead of running, if he pushed some real effort into getting wherever they were going, who knows how long he'd be able to make it before he feinted from lack of nourishment. Chris never had to worry for food or water, it was always there. Even back in the day, when he still lived with Valentine in that secluded valley of theirs, there was a fresh water source nearby, as well as plenty of places to scavenge, so there was no trouble at all. He remembered going days without eating, and though it had been bad for his smaller child-like body, growing up, it had become a habit.
But here, it seemed that he would have to find a source of nourishment soon. His stomach already felt as if it were reduced to the size of a walnut. Or a berry. Preferably a blue berry. There were berries in their fridge back at the house but they never ate them. He wondered if Clary would have enjoyed them, they could have eaten them on the couch, lounging, popping them into their mouths as their fingers turned purple from the juice.
Don't think of food you idiot…or Clary….or of Clary eating food…..
What was wrong with him? He usually had such strong sense of will power, but even that seemed to be reduced thanks to the energy of this place.
He resorted to staring into the wasteland of hell until all thoughts of food were burned away by the grotesque features of the lands. The farther they walked, the more hideous it seemed. From rusty red and orange colors, somewhat looking like a darker version of a sunset, the color had turned into a more acidic look. The red orange was still there, but now it was more faded with nuances of brown and putrid muck green, as if the ground were decaying from the inside out. To prove the decaying matter, even the veins no longer just slid underneath the surface of the ground. The protruded more above, looking like horrible jagged scars, bumping above the ground so that Chris now had to step completely over them to avoid tripping on them.
He was coughing more frequently, but he couldn't tell if it was from the constant exposure to the toxic-like atmosphere, or because the environment around him was getting worse.
Unuaq did not seem affected in the slightest, being a demon and all, and Chris became positive that the only reason why he hadn't already withered and coughed out his intestines was because he was part Greater demon.
The only thing that hadn't changed at all was the Phlegethon. The liquid fire river still ran through the land like a snake sneaking towards prey, and though he was still wary of it, he began to find the river as a comfort. Something he'd rather have than not.
"Do you know the exact distance of where this demon lord is, precisely?" Chris decided to start talking again.
"I've never been there before." Unuaq answered obviously.
"Then how do you know where it is?" Chris asked suspiciously.
"Everyone knows where the demon lord is." She answered again, as if this were a well-known fact. Chris decided not to further analyze. In hell it seemed that all demons knew of each other, on a certain level. They just instinctually understood themselves, though they still sometimes ripped each other to shreds.
"Then how will we know when we're there?" He tried again. As far as he could see, there was only the fog barrier that hadn't let up the closer they got to it. Though for some reason, he felt like the fog was looming in front of them. Getting bigger.
"I think we're close." Unuaq mumbled.
"How close?" He barked, tired of this.
Unuaq flinched. "I….cannot say. I, can just tell."
"You can feel it?" He eyed her.
She gulped and nodded. "Up ahead."
Deciding not to waste any further time, he jogged up ahead, dragging Unuaq with him.
He didn't know what he was looking for, a huge black castle had painted itself in front of his mind, but then again, it could be anything.
He jogged, quickly getting nearer to the edge of the fog, and he expected it to stay back, to always be there, as fogs always seem to be, and to just continue walking through it.
He didn't.
Chris noticed that the fog wasn't moving, and that he was heading right towards it. As he got closer, he saw that the fog wasn't a regular fog, where you had to keep walking through it until it either dissipated or you walked right through it. It was a wall, a compacted dense wall made of vapor. Turning his head to the left, he saw that the Phlegethon just seemed to flow right into it. He couldn't see where the liquid flames were going into, but the fog wall didn't stop it.
He pulled on the makeshift rope around the gremlins' neck. "Is this it?"
Her eyes were wide and bugging out of enormous head, making the black look like it was oozing out like tar. Though whether it was from Chris pulling on the rope or because of the fear of seeing the demon lord, he wasn't quite sure.
When he looked at her again, putting danger in his eyes, she hesitantly nodded.
"We got here faster than I thought we would have." He commented.
"This land works in strange ways," she explained, "Sometimes it takes ages to get to a place that seems like it would only take a few steps to get to, and sometimes you take a step and you've moved thousands of feet in the direction you've headed towards." She shrugged. "It depends on your luck, and the environment and dark magic around you."
"I don't believe in luck," Chris said absently, taking in the fog wall, "But I know dark magic. How do we get past here? Or were you tricking me?"
He hadn't said it in a threatening way, but Unuaq took it that way.
"No, no! This is it, we are here. I simply, don't know how to get in from here."
Chris eyed the Phlegethon again, watching as the flames slipped into the fog, disappearing, not a flicker of light showing from the other side. Just damp grey.
He was about to step through the fog, when a better idea occurred to him.
"Well then, Unuaq," he smiled, "Since you were kind enough to show me the way, why don't you show me in?" he gestured towards the fog.
The demon's eyes widened further, and Chris gave her a quick shove on the shoulder until she stepped in front of the fog wall.
"Go on, just step through." He loosened some of the rope a bit, "And if you run off on me, I'll know. I'll be three steps behind you."
Unuaq swallowed first, a motion that seemed to back the leathery skin on her neck bulge like a balloon, then tentatively stuck a foot inside. Holding it there until she was sure that nothing was burning or that nothing was eating her alive. She stuck a hand through, then slowly, so slowly that Chris was about to shove her in all the way, until she put her whole body in.
Chris couldn't see the demon, and when he called out to it, she wouldn't reply. Pulling in the rope to see if there a sharp tug on the other end to indicate that she was still there, his pulse quickened when the rope came back to the other side, no demon attached.
He was about to swear, when he noticed that the rope wasn't destroyed. Had the demon tried to remove it, she would have used her claw like hands and ruined the fabric. But it was all intact.
Then where…
Let's find out. Without even thinking, he stepped into the grey fog, and his vision, though ultra-sensitive and able to see in even the poorest of light, was obscured.
He moved about, seeing that his limbs were still in motion. Nothing was different, it was just that the light had gone out. But he felt like his senses were tuned down. His vision was completely off, and his sense of smell no longer worked, or at least he thought it didn't, because the smell of polluted air and acid no longer invaded his mind. He could have sworn he couldn't hear either. It was dead quiet.
"Unuaq." He called out, waiting for the demon's response. At least he could hear, but his voice sounded feint, like it was coming from an echo in a cave. "Answer me." That little demon tricked him! Probably thought she'd lose him in this void…..
He could hear the sound of the Phlegethon moving, ever so faintly, so his left, though he could no longer see or even feel its heat. He stayed from where he could hear the river, in case his hearing was wrong and he was standing too close to the flames. His hands tightened around his black task, which was still, thankfully, in use.
Chris walked forward, carefully, testing the ground before him. Even the ground beneath his feet felt different. No longer rough and ashy. It was plain, flat, like walking on a slab of cement, and cold.
He just noticed the cold.
"Where are you, slimy little demon," he muttered under his breath. Staying in one place wouldn't solve anything, especially if there was anything in the darkness waiting for him, so he pressed forward, his tusk held out in front of him, trying to sense anything before he got too close.
It wasn't too long before he heard the shuffling of feet.
Reaching out into the darkness, he thrust his hand forward until they clamped around a leathery body.
"Master!" Unuaq managed to squeal before Chris tightened his grip.
"Who told you that you could just run away like that? Did you know that it would be dark in here? Think you could escape? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't roast you this instant!" Chris shook the slimy thing as she sputtered.
"I didn't escape! No, no, no! The rope disappeared! One second there, the next, poof! Gone!" she struggled.
"Oh yeah, because rope can just move off of your neck all on its own." Chris mocked, rolling his eyes even though no one could see it. "Give me another reason, no stories this time."
"I'm not lying!" Chris couldn't see the creature but he could feel her straining to be let go. "In fact, where is the rope? And if I had tried to run away, why am I still here?"
"The rope?" He growled, "Why would it matter where the rope-"he paused. He shook the tusk a little, bit, looking for shake of the rope that should still be tied to the end of it. It wasn't there.
"What did you do?" Chris threatened.
"I didn't do anything!" Unuaq argued.
Chris's mind reeled. This was going nowhere, he couldn't see a thing and he didn't know where he was going. He decided to go back, and immediately froze.
Which way was back?
He urged his ears to their maximum hearing capacity, straining them to pick up the sound of the Phlegethon, but he couldn't make out a thing. But he hadn't moved away from it. Then…..
Walking backwards, he moved until he swore it was about the same distance as when he first stepped into the fog. But he wasn't getting out. He moved back more, and more, until he was pretty sure he should be out of the fog right about now.
Still more darkness.
What is this?
Unuaq made a rocky grumbling noise that sounded like a whimper.
"He's here…." She cowered in his grasp.
Disgusted and confused, Chris let her go with a dismissed thump. Even though he knew, he asked, "Who's here?"
"I think you know very well who…." A snake like voice called to him from the gloom. Chris couldn't tell if the voice was behind him, above him, or all around. The demon could literally be the fog for all he knew.
"Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern," the snake voice mused, "I've heard much about you, from accounts that I've heard from Earth, and by my many slaves who rushed to me to warn me of you. Though what they could warn me of, I don't know. You seem like a worthless piece of vermin to me."
Chris swallowed his want to retort at the last comment, but kept his demeanor calm and collected. In a strong, clear voice, he spoke, "I go by Chris now. Jonathan Christopher was a used name that I threw out. It tied me down to old expectations."
"I see…..Chris…..," the voice hissed the sssss in his name, "Normally anyone who comes to see me in this matter is immediately eliminated, but you. I'm curious about you. It takes much to fascinate me. You should feel honored."
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes again, wondering if the demon could see him, he said, "And quite the honor it is, though I have to ask, what sort of accounts have you heard about me?"
The demon voice echoed around him, and Chris felt as if the demon was laughing, "I've heard many a grotesque tale, from your demonic roots, to your part in the war of the glass city, your attempt to turn those white Shadowhunters into their demon counterparts. I've heard of your battles and your conquests, and I'm quite impressed."
He didn't know how to feel about the fact that the demons in hell knew about his Greater demon blood, but it didn't feel all too great to be popular. He preferred to be inconspicuous. Unknown and unseen. But if it would work to his advantage here…..
Chris's fingertips were getting cold, as the atmosphere settled around him, "You're causing this, aren't you?" a small smile lifted from one corner of his mouth, "This fog, it's to obstruct anyone from seeing past it."
He thought he felt the Greater demon pondering, "This is my realm, all of those who come through here are for me to control. No one lives without my consent, therefore I bathe my surroundings in darkness to conceal my whereabouts so that no one ever attempts to defeat me."
"You usually kill everyone, why not kill me?" Chris questioned carefully, "You said anyone who stepped into this was now in the palm of your hand, why not get it over with right now? I can't see you, nor can I stop you."
"As I said before you are an object of interest to me. And I know what you've come here for."
"And that would be?" he placed a casual tone on his question.
"You wish to leave to the Earth realm, to return there, perhaps seek revenge on those who sent you hither."
Well, he wanted to go back. He hadn't thought about getting revenge yet, only getting back to the person he wanted to get back to. Perhaps he'd get back at the Counsel, that mangy old man who looked like he hungered for power. Chris used to want power, sometimes a part of him still wanted it, but he didn't crave it anymore. It simply didn't mean much to him now. Perhaps a month ago, or even two weeks ago, he would've reveled in the idea of power and complete control, but simply a moment in Clarissa's presence had swept those thoughts away from him. He was no longer the same person he once was, he had changed, his whole mind and what drove him had changed.
At first he was surprised at this change, but then he accepted it. It was who his Clary made him to be, and he preferred it than the monster she used to fear and hate.
So if he did get revenge, it would be simply for him. Not for power, not to gain anything. Just to make things even.
He didn't know if he would, honestly it didn't seem worth his time and energy, the guy was old and would probably die soon anyway, but first things first.
"You are right, I do wish to get to Earth," Chris agreed, "And I've heard many grand things stating your power in being able to send one there. Are they truth?"
"Well of course they're true! Do not doubt my capabilities."
"I wasn't doubting you. I'm simply confirming the stories that have reached my ears. Surely one as yourself should know how news can be expanded and changed until the original tale is no longer there." He allayed.
"Hmmmmmm," the demon contemplated. "I assume you wish for me to grant you passage to Earth, is that right?"
He didn't deny it. "Yes, if you ca-" He was about to say if you can, but he didn't want the Greater demon to think he was underestimating his powers, so instead he said, "If you will allow me to."
"I will grant your wish, Christopher," Chris didn't bother to correct him. "However, I cannot simply do so without you doing a favor, no, a service, for me in return."
He stopped himself from downright rejecting his request, but instead of mouthing off he spoke, "Of course, what sort of service may it be?"
"Since sending you to Earth is an enormous task, it may be more than one, but I wish for you to be my right hand. You will work with me and accomplish any task I give to you, you will go where I send you, do what I order you to do. You will be my knife that slits the neck of my enemies. You will be my confident, my most trusted asset."
I'll be your tool….He cursed within but didn't complain.
"How long would I have to be in this position?" he asked.
"As long as it takes for you to complete the tasks that I have in mind. The son of Valentine will surely look well on my side, and should strike fear in those who don't already quiver in my presence."
Chris felt an arrow pierce his pride at the words 'son of Valentine.' He was no longer Valentine's son. He may have his blood and his looks, but he wanted nothing of Valentine's infamy on his reputation.
"Of course, I could always shorten your term, if you give me that demon at your feet….."
Chris nudged his feet and barely noticed that Unuaq, who had been silent the entire time, had been clinging onto his pant leg in terror. She whimpered slightly as she was mentioned, attempting to cling to him again. Strange, considering that she had been scared of him only a few moments ago. She was choosing the lesser of the two evils, he assumed.
He didn't know why he said what came next, perhaps it was because he really had changed, or if it was because it was something that he knew Clary would appreciate, even if it would delay the time between when they would see each other, but Chris shook his head in the dark.
"No thank you, this demon is my minion, and I wouldn't want to waste the time in finding another one, especially since I'll have my hands occupied accomplishing these tasks you wish for me to do."
Unuaq stopped moving, surprise and shock at his words tensing the sharp and rough hands on his leg. He quickly pried her sharp nails off of him before she tore his skin.
The Greater Demon didn't answer for a moment, in which Chris didn't breathe, until, "Very well, if you prefer to have the vermin by your side, so be it."
"One more thing," he addressed, "Not that I don't trust your word, but is it possib;e that I can ask for some insurance?"
"What do you mean by this?"
"I need an assurance that after I complete your tasks, I will be sent to Earth." He explained, "Nothing serious, but I'd rather have something to make sure that our deal will be dealt with."
"Had you been anyone else, I would have murdered you right here and now, for doubting my intentions," the demon hissed unfavorably, "But, considering who you are, I will allow it to pass. As for you, 'insurance'…."
The darkness around him lifted, and Chris blinked twice to get his eyes adjusted to the landscape again. The air was hot again, as was the acidic smells and such. Unuaq was right next to him, also looking about. Now though, the rope around her neck from the tusk was back.
He looked behind him, and he saw the fog wall, only it was transparent, allowing him to see through to the other side. The land on this side of the fog was different, it was more greener, not greener as in there was more foliage, but the atmosphere was greener. The sky, or what he could see from it, was a cool teal mixed with emeralds streaks, almost like the aurora borealis, only this seemed more menacing. This place was doing a great job of reminding me of Clary, he sighed. The ground before him was a dark, coffee stained brown, as if a giant had walked around carelessly with a mug of it and splashed all over the land. It looked ugly. The land also undulated, the ground rising and dipping, undulating with hills, unlike behind the fog where ground was flat.
No matter the scenery change, the place still felt ominous.
The Phlegethon was to his left, where he could have sworn it no longer was there, but something was different about it. Trailing his eyes forward, he noticed how the liquid flames lessened, until the river turned into a foggy greenish tint. The fog seemed to drift into the Phlegethon, lessening its heat until it transformed into the greenish version. As Chris stared into the new color, he swore he saw ghostly hands and bodies beneath the surface of the river. All reaching for the top as if trying to escape.
"The river Acheron." A voice spoke behind him, and it took all of Chris's will power to not hurl himself at the figure behind him.
The figure behind him was surprisingly human shaped, it had the basic two arms and two legs and one head and normal facial structures that a human being had. Everything human about ended there. It was about eight feet tall, and its skin was pear colored, with ice blue eyes, pupil and all, except what the white should have been was colored black. The demon wore a toga made from lizard hide, and on its bald head, resting upon its pointed ears, was a crown made from blades and teeth. In its right hand, was a staff almost as tall as it, and it looked like it was made from the same substance in the Acheron, only crystalized. At the top of the staff rested a clear, green orb. Within the orb there were things flowing in it, like a crystal ball. He saw the same hands and faces in it than in the river Acheron.
"The river of woe," the Greater Demon continued in its hissing voice, "The river that Charon, the ferryman, used to carry the dead across to the land of Hades. Oh how many have left their sufferings and lives in this river." As he spoke the smoke in his orb moved in a frenzy. He noticed that the orb was not whole, but it was fractured, held together by a golden coil wrapping the pieces together. All that movement within the orb should have broken the orb from the inside, but the coil held.
"I know my share of Greek myths." Chris spoke.
"Oh, not all were myths," the demon smiled cruelly. "Now, you wanted insurance? Here." Reaching for his orb, he carefully plucked a small fragment from the sphere, making sure that nothing would fall out of place. When he pulled it out, the orb dimmed a bit, the mist inside less frenetic.
He handed the piece to Chris, and he took it carefully, expecting the ghostly figures to start moving in his grasp. But there was nothing. It was just a piece of green glass to him.
"This orb is my strength. I feed off of the woe of others. If even a fraction of this scepter were to be broken, I would be weakened by much. I will give this to you, to prove that I will send you to Earth as soon as you services are completed." He gave a crooked smile to Chris, in which he revealed deep blue and black teeth.
Chris didn't feel the importance of the small piece in his hand, and he didn't believe that this demon would just give him his Achilles heel just like that. But he didn't have any other choice.
"Well, son of Valentine?" the Greater Demon questioned, "Do we have an agreement?"
Chris looked at the green orb once more before placing the glass shard in his pocket.
Looking up, he matched his black eyes into the icy blue ones of the demon in this hot hell.
"Deal."
Clary POV
Cold. Why was everything so cold?
Clary trudged through so much snow that her feet were frozen as well as the rest of her. She might as well be a frozen pop-stickle. It was a miracle to her limbs hadn't fallen off in frost bite yet.
It was about midafternoon and the sun in the sky did nothing to warm the chills shaking through her body. It was like a cold hand had her crushed in its grip, pulling out any warmth her body could produce. It didn't help that she was only wearing a sweater, that only had one sleeve, and pants in the middle of winter in Switzerland.
Sheesh, the Clave could have chosen a better time and place to catch them…
Her fingers trembled too much to draw any more heat runes, and not even the clock rune on her arm brought much comfort. She had practiced bringing it to and from sight, but she just couldn't concentrate.
It didn't help that she hadn't gotten much sleep last night either. She had woken up screaming and panting from a nightmare, one that could still remember all too clearly. She had been lying down on her stomach at the edge of a ravine, both hands outstretched into the abyss, desperately trying to hold onto Chris's arms as a dark figure attempted to pull him down.
"Don't let me go!" Chris's eyes were wild and scared, hanging on for his life.
"I'm trying!" Clary screamed as her arms yelled in protest from the weight. "I can't keep this up forever!"
"You have to! If you don't, I'll die!" He screamed as a hooked talon from below lodged itself into his calf, red blood pouring down the length of his leg as he was pulled down harder.
"Clary!" he shouted.
"Chris, come on! You have to get up! We have to get out of here, you and me!" she cried, tears pouring over her eyes like blood on his leg. "We can do this!"
"I can't do anything Clary! You have to pull me up!…" he spoke, a horrible emotions going through his eyes.
"I can't! Help me!" she groaned, again trying to pull him up but finding that she was too weak. That she was always too weak.
"Help!" she shrieked as Chris's hands started slipping from her, "Someone please! Help!"
She temporarily glanced up from the ravine, and saw several people standing on the other side of it. It was her family, Jace, Simon, the Lightwoods, Jocelyn, Luke, everyone.
"Help me! He's going to fall in!" she pleaded.
Even though it was impossible for her to hear him from this distance, Clary could hear Jace talk to he, his eyes cold, "You chose him, not us. Why should we help you?" And with that they all turned their backs on her, and began to walk away. Clary felt abandoned, not wanting them to turn away, wanting to run to them to forgive her, but she couldn't just let go of Chris's hands.
"Wait! Come back!" She begged, looking down at Chris whose face was a mask of pain.
"Clary, they're not coming back to help." He pained.
"Why not!" she cried, clear tears staining her freckled face.
"Because I'm a demon Clary." And with that, a final pull pulled them apart, and Clary saw Chris's eyes as he fell yet again into the darkness.
"Chris!"
Shaking her head, she tried to allay her nerves and ignore her cold by focusing on where she was. Ever since she woke up, she left the tree and started walking again. Up ahead of her, she saw the town of Zurich, a city in the German speaking part of Switzerland. Well, according to her inner Sebastian.
If it hadn't been for that little GPS in her mind, she'd be hopelessly lost. In fact, it was only because she'd used shortcut and small paths that were known to Sebastian that she was able to get here in such short time, and without using her fast speed. She should be thankful, for if not she'd be frozen in the middle of an empty forest in Switzerland.
Gosh, I can see it now. Three hundred years from now, some explorers or something will be trenching through the woods, and they'll find my frozen body in covered in ice and snow. They'll call me 'The soulless red head' or 'The short red leprechaun' or 'The frozen midget.' I'll be in museums everywhere and scientists will want to study my corpse and why there were multiple tattoos all over my arm. Was I in a cult? Did I die in some sort of ritual? I'll be known as the girl who committed suicide and froze to death in the forest….greattt….
Despite her strange situation, she felt comforted that she knew where she was. In fact, having Sebastian's mind within her mental grasp was a huge comfort, but it hurt that they were only his memories, his knowledge. But sometimes, as she was walking, ready to give up, she could hear his voice telling her to walk straighter, to keep her chin up, to quicken her stride and quiet her breaths. Just like if they were training.
It was still really weird though, but she assumed she'd get used to it.
As she entered Zurich, she tried to not really pay attention to the people or streets, she simply followed the little map in her head that showed her where to go. But her artists mind had a different idea. The city was so beautiful, from its buildings, to its streets, she admired the architecture, and the way the city didn't look dead with the snow all around it. There was something about snow in certain places making it look lost and gone, even sometimes in New York, but Zurich pulled it off with a flourish. The snow on the roofs looked like it was built for it, and the lake or river or whatever it was that ran through the city looked absolutely incredible.
On a small scale, she recognized these details, as she quickly walked through the streets, her head down even though she was concealed in a glamour. She didn't want anyone wondering about why a teenaged girl was walking about in a ripped sweater in the cold.
Her mind was primarily focused on a certain point on her mind map, and as she neared it she quickly entered it. She'd gone into a church, a small, unnoticeable one. One was because of the warmth, she'd figure she'd sit in the pews until she was all warmed up. Another reason was for something that Jace had told her long ago. She remembered him telling her that in churches, no matter what religion, there were weapons of some sort hidden in them for Shadowhunters to use, necessary tools and such that could come in handy and that she couldn't get her hands on.
Once she was in the edifice that she had in mind, the closest one to her, and she immediately lavished on the warmth of the room. Shivers ran up and down her spine, but she tried to suppress them as she walks up an aisle formed by empty wooden pews on either side of her. Looking up, she saw that the alter above her had statues of the Virgin Mary, and a cross with Jesus Christ right in the middle of the room where it could be seen from all points. She had walked into a Christian church.
Christian, Christopher, Chris Chris Chris gah stop Clary, focus on what you have to do first….
She walked right up to the altar, which was raised on a small step, making it a bit higher than the rest of the church, looking around hastily to make sure that no one was here, before kneeling down and running her hands across the small step, searching for what she remembered to look for. Unfortunately, Sebastian had never had to go looking for weapons on his own, therefore Clary was on her own.
She had started from the left side of the altar, and was making her way across as she searched. Clary was only about halfway through, deeply concentrated in the looking, that she barely noticed when another presence entered the church. She had enough sense to stop her hands from rummaging about, but her hand unconsciously hovered over the spot on her wrist where her rune would be, making it look like she was kneeling before the altar, when the voice spoke. Something about the voice was off though, and she couldn't make out why at first.
"Hello there young lady," Clary looked up to see a father of the church, dressed in his raiment, come from a door half hidden behind the altar, and walk towards her, a friendly smile on his wrinkled face. "Where is your coat? It is very cold outside, you could freeze."
Clary automatically responded, and it wasn't until then that she realized why the father's voice sounded so strange. "I don't have a coat."
German. The father was speaking German. And so was she. What did Chris tell her so long ago? That their heritage was from the German-speaking part of Switzerland? So no duh Chris would speak German.
And I now I can too….That means I can speak any language that Sebastian knows! Can I speak French?
Oui, vous pouvez
Ah heck yes! Now I'm bilingual! Or trilingual, or however many languages Sebastian speaks-lingual ah I'll figure it out later….
Clary snapped out of her reverie when the father stood shocked. "That is all you're wearing? You children nowadays think you're invincible to everything! Why did you come out here without anything, you small little girl? Look at you you're shivering." He placed a warm hand on the shoulder that still had a sleeve, and Clary, not knowing whether to pretend that she did come out into the cold like this on her own, simply gave a weak smile.
"Actually, I lost my coat," she lied instead, "And my sweater ripped as I walked past a dirty nail that was in a wall, luckily I didn't get hurt."
"How did you lose your coat? And why are you all covered in mud and dirt, you poor thing?" the father asked, concerned.
"My coat, it was, stolen. I was in a coffee shop, and someone took it while I went to the bathroom." Clary continued lying.
The father seemed to stare at her, as if seeing through her lies. Clary swore he saw through her lies. Wasn't that something people who worked under divine power were able to do? She didn't know, but the look of the man seemed to search through her soul, like he was picking at the truths in her eyes and coming together with the actual picture.
Stepping back, he smiled. "I don't know what problems you have, young miss, and for whatever reason that you are here, kneeling before God," he gestured towards the altar, "They are not for me to know, unless you wish to tell me. But either way, because I am obliged to help you, I shall. Wait here, for I shall bring you a coat, and something else, to keep you warm and strong, for whenever you want to go back out there."
Clary stared with wide eyes, unable to say anything, as the father with even and humble steps left through the back of the altar to retrieve whatever he was about to give her. She had lied right to his face, and he knew, yet wasn't going to question her.
Thank you, she though in German before she dropped back down to quickly continue searching.
She thought she would never find the stupid things when her hands brushed an uneven surface, and when Clary looked at it, she saw that a small tile could be removed and when she did, she saw a wooden box the size of a shoe box inside. Opening it up quickly, she found several weapons, three seraph blades, an extra stele, a first aid kit, an assortment of blades as well as some mundane money, a small witchlight, a compass, and other things. There was even a pack of multi colored gummy bears.
Hearing that the father was returning, Clary hid the wooden box in the pews, so that she could take them when she leaves, and returned to her spot.
In the father's arms was a large green coat, one that looked like it would hang just below her knees, a scarf, some mittens, and a plastic bag with something inside that smelled delicious to her nose. And stomach.
Setting some of the things down, the father helped her into the coat, which was just plain gentlemanly like, and watched as Clary adjusted it so that it fir her better.
He nodded in approval, "It's a bit big, but then again you're so small, like a little princess." He smiled, making Clary smile back.
"Thank you," she replied, "But where did you get this from?" The coat looked fairly okay, not too used, but not brand new.
"It's from the lost and found, they've been there for weeks now, and besides, this is to keep people warm, and it's not going to be able to do that in the cardboard box in the back." The father bent down the pick up the plastic bag, and gave it to Clary, "And this, this is to put some muscle on your bones. To make you very strong."
Clary peaked inside, and the smell of apple pie invaded her senses. There was a slice of it inside a small cardboard box, and it looked like it was still warm. She breathed it in, and her stomach replied, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the vampire encounter in Athens.
That wasn't even a day ago…..Yet it felt like an eternity.
"Thank you, thank you so much for this," she was sincere to the father.
"You are welcome to stay here longer if you wish, this is your house, where you are safe." He extended an arm around the church. "You can eat the pie here as well. Hurry before it gets cold. And if you need anything else, no matter what it is, I will do my best to assist you."
He placed his hand on her forehead, and drew what she recognized as the cross on her head. He murmured some words beneath his breath, prayer words, she assumed, and he was about to turn away, and she was about to munch down on her pie, when she remembered something.
Unfortunately, Sebastian's mind was missing a few crucial bits of information, meaning that she would have to figure it out for herself. But while she was here…
"Actually," she called out to the father, making his turn around, "There is something I need help with."
"And what would it be?" he kindly asked.
Clary smiled. "Do you know of any large castles here in Switzerland?"
Lacie: OMG IM DONE IM DONE WITH FINALS YAY YAY YAY YAY I actually finished them two days ago but I probably spent those two days writing about half of this.
Clary: So how were finals?
Chris: Did you fail?
Lacie: No! At least I hope not, I feel pretty good about them though…Anyway, as soon as I was done, I was like, YAYYY! I'M FREE! Then I was like NO MY FANFIC I HAVE TO UPDATE TO THE POOR LITTLE LAMBS OUT THERE so I worked so hard to finish this chapter.
Clary: I'm in it this time! But not for very long, and I'm freezing for most of it!
Chris: At least you're cool, I'm burning where I am
Lacie: Well you know, you're hot and you're cold, you're yes and you're no, you're in and you're out, you're up and you're down, you're wrong when its right, its black and its white, you fight you make up, you kiss and makeup.
Clary: Katy Perry?
Chris: NO MORE SINGING
Lacie: Aw come one! You got to admit that was cool
Clary: NO
Lacie: Aw… kay kay. Anyway, hello my lovely readers, again, thank you a bunch for waiting patiently whilst I studied hardcore for finals. I think it really paid off. This was the chapter sorry, if it was a bit boring, but I made it reaaalllly long to pay up for the two weeks delay.
Clary: Did you delete the thingie that said why you weren't updating?
Lacie: Yes I did! It is no longer there! Meaning that this is officially Chapter 25. I don't know what deleting a chapter will do to the reviews done to it, which means that everyone is gonna have to like double review! You know…just in case
Clary: Quick explanation for those of you who are reading this in the future and have no idea what's going on: After Chapter 24 Lacie realized she had finals, so she posted an update saying why she wasn't updating for a while. However, she has removed that update so that its not there anymore and this chapter will simply replace it.
Chris: What if people don't review?
Lacie: Then I'll be very sad *sinks in her chair* and I won't glimmer and sparkle in happiness.
*voice on the other side of door*
Magnus: hey that's my job!
Lacie: Magnus? What are you doing here?
Magnus: *still on other side of door* I heard 'glimmer and sparkle' and I rushed here immediately! Anyway, did you know that you have a guest here trying to pick your lock?
Clary: What
Chris: *opens door to reveal a guest named Minty* You know, I have some sharper picks that you could use that would work much better than the toothpick you're working with now.
Minty: O-O HI
Chris: Here you go *gives minty a box of lock picking stuff* you should use the silver one, it's my favorite
Lacie: Come one in Minty
What will Minty do? Will she come in and join the gang? Will she run away in fear? Will she feint because she is now in possession of Chris's favorite pick? Find out next chapter! If Minty reviews! That's right I'm calling you out!
Clary: In case no one understood that either, Minty is a guest reviewer who said she was trying to pick the lock to our studio to see Chris. Congratz! You made it! Now Review!
HI MINTY