Chapter 1- Prisoner
I woke up with a start. Squinting as my eyes adjusted to the firelight of the torch behind me. Blinking, I attempted to recall the dream that plagued me. It all seemed so real, yet it dissolved quickly till the only fractured part I could remember was the painful throbbing in my chest. Lifting my hand to wipe the sweat from my forehead I winced as the shackle rubbed against the raw skin of my wrist.
"Resting time is over! Time to get back on the road!" A gruff voice commanded. The head guard, a middle aged man with a thick beard and shaggy blonde hair with a stomach that protruded out from his armor, was clearly eager to get a move on. Clary got to her feet, wiping the sleep from her eyes. It was dusk and the air had begun to cool. It was going to be a calm, peaceful night. The type of night that makes you want to stop and enjoy the light breeze and gaze up at the stars. Not that you could ever see the stars in the smog filled sky in the city of Ignis. That made these rare nights all the more beautiful.
"Get moving you sorry lot!" the guard commanded, sending his whip cracking down onto a nearby rock. The last group of prisoners leapt up in fear, and briskly made their way towards the narrow path. A path that ran through the forest towards the capital of the Morgenstern empire and no doubt, most of their deaths.
The group of prisoners that Clary was grouped with was made up of peasants that had wronged the king in some way or another. Most trivial matters yet all knew that the details didn't matter because there was never any real trial. King Valentine was inpatient on such matters and his son Prince Jonathan even more so. That meant "justice" was usually dealt by the King's right hand, a lord by the name of Axel who was known for his cruelty. He accepted bribery from the nobility which allowed him to sustain his lavish lifestyle but he had as little patience for the poor as their king. He also had a wandering eye and often took young women who held beauty into his lavish mansion where they would become servants. A title usually reserved to those who served a noble yet Lord Axel's definition of such included bedroom excursions as well. He had fathered many bastards over the years. To the man's credit, he didn't abandon them. Given that his wife was barren it seemed he intended to reward one with the title of heir once they grew and proved their merit. The king had no need for such tactics though he had not had a wife for a decade.
His majesty, King Morgenstern also known as the "Dark King" as he was sometimes called, ruled high and mighty over the people. If the threat of Lord Axel's punishment didn't make the public submit, the crown's reputation would. Any who opposed the crown were dealt with in the most cruel and sometimes barbaric ways. Public executions were held often and torture was a common practice. The prince himself was known for enjoying toying with his victims. Many could attest to his cruelty as screams from the dungeon could be heard throughout the castle. While most torture included physical pain the prince had other means to inflict pain. He used his dark powers to infiltrate their minds.
Magic was rare. Only mages and rare individuals were capable of controlling the elements through divine means. What some called magic others referred to as divine gifts. Regardless, the Morgenstern bloodline was well known for wielding dark magic. Most who dabbled in magic were able to channel the elements. That was not the case with the King and his son. Dark energy was rare and Clary only knew of only the Morgenstern family to possess such abilities. A trait that they used to their advantage. Given their affiliation, It was no surprise that the crown held a demonic army. One who the king or his wicked son wouldn't think twice of sending to levy a town. Most of this group of prisoners would be sent to work in the fire pits of Ignis next to the demons. That is, if they were lucky. If not, they would be executed. Unless of course, they were a maiden, especially one who was pleasing to the eye. Which worried Clary greatly. She had been told many times that she had a lovely face and given the hushed whispers of the guards, was most likely to fall into that category. If Lord Axel did not take her then there was a chance she would be "chosen" as a concubine for the palace. Not that the position would spare her. The prince had a habit of torturing his ladies of the night and many were executed for being caught fleeing the palace. Others even went as far as taking their own life.
"Onward! We need to reach the checkpoint within the hour or there will be hell to pay!" the lead guard shouted, cracking his whip once more. An older man yelped as he tried to go faster while nursing his bad hip. The group carried on at a steady pace at the command of the guards. The road was narrow, bumpy and many of the poor peasants were barefoot. Something Clary thankfully didn't have to worry about.
Clary was a short petite redhead with green eyes that were now hidden under her long crimson wavy hair. Her skin was pale and creamy with light freckles on her cheeks. As previously stated, she had a pleasing face and soft womanly features. She was seventeen and her body had begun to develop its natural womanly figure. Clary was beautiful and elegant in comparison to her traveling companions. Her dress, which once was very pretty, was now torn. Yet, it was clear from her clothing and the way she carried herself that she wasn't a peasant and held herself such as nobility. This would usually gain her influence with the law. However, given the fact she was a young woman prisoner, and a beautiful young woman prisoner at that, made her the cause of great deal of attention from the soldiers. That attention was making her uncomfortable, not that she would let them know that.
Clary knew that none of them would dare touch her for her looks held another "advantage." She matched the description of a woman the king himself was searching for. A young woman with long red hair, pale skin, and green eyes. No, Clary was safe at least until they made it to Idris and the soldiers determined if she was the girl that their king had been searching for. Many seemed sure she wasn't but they knew better than to take the chance in fear of crossing his majesty. They were wrong of course. She had the misfortune of meeting King Valentine's gaze once and the experience loomed over her head like a dark cloud till this day. The moment he saw her during a crowded town meeting in Ignis she knew she was in trouble. She only narrowly escaped but King Valentine had sent out scouts with posters all over the kingdom looking for the fair red haired woman. Many maidens were being brought to the palace under that order, Clarissa just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time to escape this patrol. She had no idea why the man wanted her but she doubted it would be pleasant for her if he had caught her. Too bad her luck had run out.
"Clary!" The frail old woman beside her whispered.
The small redhead tilted her head slightly towards the older woman. Gertrude was a sweet old lady that had the misfortune of speaking ill of their sovereign within earshot of a guard. The women had long gray hair, bright blue eyes, and reminded Clary of her adoptive mother, Imogine.
"Look at the sky, my child. Have you ever seen such a beautiful night?" she asked.
Clary looked up at the dark sky. Now that the sun had fully set the sky twinkled with thousands of stars.
"They are beautiful. We rarely get to see them in Ignis." The young redhead replied.
Being brought up in Ignis the sky's were often filled with smoke from the burning demon pit. The city was once a large beautiful city before the king sent his demons there. Now the fires burned nightly making iron, cannons, and other instruments of war. They were built and then shipped back to the capital where they were being collected for war. The king had set his sights on the neighboring Lovelace kingdom who refused to trade with the tyrant king. Ignis, the city where Clary lived, was run by Lord Blackthorn, a kind man who kept on the king's good side thus allowing the people to prosper freely from the King'swatchful eye. Making life there more lenient than other cities of the continent.
Lord Blackthorn had many children. All who were kind and noble aside from the first two, who the king had stripped titles from. After Lord Blackthorn's last child was born, his wife disappeared. Her body was never found so many thought she ran away with a lover yet many believed that she had not run away at all. Clary tended to side with the latter. Why would the woman leave her newborn child when she had stayed for the others? It was upsetting but not the most outlandish thing to have happened in a city filled with demons.
Despite how Clarissa was raised, she was for all intents and purposes, a commoner. She had no money and no title. The only reason she had any training as a lady of the court was because she had been raised by Lady Imogene Herondale for most of her life. The kind woman took her in after her mother died when Clarissa was six. Lady Imogene also fussed over her and despite having few memories of her real mother, to which she was told she was a carbon copy, Imogene was her mother.
Her birth mother, Jocelyn Fray, had been sick for a long time and when she finally passed, she left her only daughter in Lady Herondale's care. Imogen Herondale proved to be a wonderful caretaker and treated Clarissa as if she were her own daughter. She was taught how to eat, dress, and act like a proper lady. The young woman enjoyed reading, listening to music, though she was terrible at playing the piano, and most of all, art. Clary excelled at art, a talent she was told she inherited from her mother. Imogen had doted on the redhead but kept her away from the festivities of court life. Something that always striked Clary as odd given the care the women took of her.
Things became even more off when Lady Imogene went to the capital city shortly after Clary's twelfth birthday. The time when many young women were considering suitors or arranged marriages was decided. Clary remembered it vividly for it was the only time Lady Imogen mentioned taking Clary out of the city. She began to plan in detail for Clary to accompany her for a short visit to Idris to meet her grandson Johnathan. A supposedly very handsome young man who was two years older than the redhead. It was no secret she wished the two would meet and hopefully kindle a romance. She had said that her grandson was a hard headed and stubborn as she was and concluded that they would be a "perfect match."
It was never to be though. Seven years after taking Clary in and the day before her thirteenth birthday, the letter arrived announcing that the Wayland war had stolen Lady Imogene's son Stephen Herondale, his wife Celine, and her grandson Johnathan. The Wayland army had somehow managed to bypass the security checkpoints and attack the capital directly. No one knew how they had accomplished this but their assault proved to be useless. The King unleashed his demons and destroyed their army. Demon's deal in death, carnage, and fire. It was in those fires that her family lost their lives, along with so many. From that moment Imogen received that letter from the king announcing their deaths she became even more protective of Clary, limiting her movements and restricting many from visiting her mansion.
The Wayland kingdom still stood in large part to the support of the Lovelace empire but it was only a matter of time. Everyone knew the king was biding his time, making weapons and planning his next attack. That was why the sky of Ignis was still filled with smoke. The demonic energies tolled on through the day and all through the night on the outskirts of the city. That was until the demon pits were destroyed a few days ago. Yet another reason for Clary to worry.
Sure, she and the others had destroyed the pits delaying his weapon production. However, the crime was too new for him to have fully investigated it. Even if time had passed he would be hard pressed to know it was Clary and her friends who committed the act. Though, with the King's powers it wasn't out of the realm of possibilities for him to have some magical foresight. Clarissa could only hope that he didn't know and that her friends were safe. They had gotten out right before the blast. She had not been so lucky. Still, she was far enough away to have survived with little more than some scratches and a torn dress. A miracle from the angel truly.
"Did you see the explosion? I wonder what the King plans to do?" Gertrude inquired, her steps becoming heavy with fatigue.
Despite being told that the checkpoint was an hour away they had been walking for hours now.
"I don't know, but his majesty will be furious." Clary replied before lowering her voice to a whisper. "I hope the parties responsible were able to escape."
The older women nodded in agreement. People had little patience for the King's demons but the people of Ignis who had to work near them hated them completely. Clary and her friends Isabelle and Simon were no different. The redhead closed her eyes and smiled remembering the first time she had met her friend, Isabelle. It was on a clear night like this during a ball about five years ago. Lady Isabelle Lightwood was breathtakingly beautiful with a slender frame, sun-kissed skin, long raven hair, and deep dark chocolate eyes. She walked into the ballroom that night with a sense of pride despite just losing her family and having been held prisoner of
the crown for two months. Men flocked around the young woman like a hive of bees. The other ladies of court would often avoid her after this first meeting out of pure jealousy.
Clary found Lady Lightwood to be cold, distant, and guarded. The young woman was polite but their conversations never went beyond formality. It didn't surprise her given what the young woman had gone through, still she was tired of trying to engage with her. With that in mind, Clary was happy to leave the girl to her flirting, honestly expecting to never see her again. Imagine her surprise when Lady Imogen announced to her in the library after the party that Lady Lightwood would be living with them for an unprecedented amount of time and that she had hoped that the two girls would become friends. An idea that didn't seem to sit well with Isabelle. The beautiful young woman reminded Clary of a china doll and just stood silently staring at her across the library. Clary, at a loss for words, finally collected herself, closed her gaping mouth and nodded.
"As you wish my lady," Clary had said gruffly. Isabelle's gaze remained firm yet her eyes held a sort of sadness in them that pierced Clary's heart. Isabelle nodded and excused herself to go to her bedroom, which had been set up beside Clary's room. Imogen had given her everything and Clary didn't want to seem ungrateful. She looked up and met the old woman's tired pale eyes. Lady Herondale looked at her for a moment before speaking.
"Clary my dear, you may not be my blood but you are the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had. Since your mother's death, I have raised you as one of my own. I want you to know that Isabelle is not going to replace you, my darling." The old woman attempted to smile but her lips never reached up enough. The death of her family weighed heavy on the lady's heart.
"Like me, Isabelle has lost all of her family to war and has no one left. Please do not think yourself beneath her Clary. She is just as lost as you are and needs a friend." Imogene explained softly.
The small voice in her head nagged her again, the one she tried to keep at bay surfaced once again. If she were like a daughter why didn't Imogen adopt her and give her the Herondale family name? She couldn't help but feel that despite what Lady Imogen said that in some way she might be ashamed of her. Why else would she not permit her to attend the king's addresses or formal balls while she practically pushed her into attending every other event in society? Clary shook her head in confusion. She never had the heart to ask the Lady these questions then and most certainly not now. She was too afraid of being rejected from the one person who she considered family. Now was not the time to doubt herself either.
Clary didn't care to befriend this new girl but the Lady didn't ask very much of her. If she wanted her to become friends with Lady Isabelle then she could at least try. Doing one last curtsy Clary left the old woman who was now staring into the fireplace. A frequent passtime of hers lately.
Clary walked to her room and decided to pursue Isabelle after breakfast the next day. She had quickly gotten changed into her night dress and was crawling into her bed when she heard the first sob. Looking around the room she hadn't realized what the sound was until she heard it again. It was coming through the wall from the bedroom beside hers. Clary remembered the first night she had spent in this house. Imogen had cradled her in her arms and sung her to sleep as she cried into her lap. The Lady was far too lost in her own grief to provide that comfort to the new girl now. Imogene had told her that Isabelle was fourteen, just a year older than herself. That made things even more difficult for her. Clary was young when she came here but Isabelle being fourteen, wasn't supposed to cry or appear sad in public. She couldn't help but pity the girl.
Isabelle had lost her mother, father, and brothers all in one tragic night. Then, she was not allowed to even mourn them. The king had kept her in the castle for months after the fire, ensuring her "security." Clary doubted that was the real reason, though. After all, there was always something odd with how the Herondales and Lightwoods died that night. Given Imogen's hatred for the king, she would bet money on it that they had assisted the attack against the crown in some way. Members of the court didn't just die in accidental fires, demonic or not. All though Isabelle held her head high and never showed less than a composed façade in public. Shaking her head Clary willed herself out of bed and quietly wrapped her robe around her.
Making her way into the hallway, Clary lifted her hand to knock on Isabelle's door when she heard another sob. Taking a deep breath she brought her hand to the door handle and was surprised to find Isabelle's door unlocked. Taking in another deep breath the small redhead opened the door and tiptoed in, despite not having an invitation. The sobbing was louder now and she was pretty sure the raven haired girl didn't hear her enter. The bedroom was flooded with dim moonlight as Clary saw Isabelle lying on her stomach sobbing into the pillows. It was a pitiful sight and her heart went out to her. Gently, she closed the door and walked quietly over to the bed. Isabelle's head bolted up as Clary lowered herself down onto the bed beside her.
"What do you think you are doing?" The brown eyed girl accused with blatant distaste.
A shiver ran down Clary's spine as she chose to ignore the question. Now wasn't the time to argue.
"Lady Imogene took me in when my mother died. I'm all alone too." She whispered. Isabelle bolted up and wiped a tear from her face.
"I don't need your pity." Isabelle snarled. Clary looked away trying to be brave.
"Nor do I intend on giving it to you…. Pity is not what you need. What you need….what might help….is a friend…" Clary paused, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Then, she continued, "And I need a friend too…" Isabelle looked back at her with fear and sadness.
"If we stick together, Isabelle, then neither of us will be alone anymore." Clary whispered looking the girl in the eyes and touching her shoulder sweetly.
Isabelle's eyes shifted as tears streamed back down her face. The small redhead looked at her in silence before wrapping her arms around the girl. Isabelle allowed Clary to pull her into her arms and cradled her head in her lap. Clary figured this was the only answer she would receive. She ran her fingers through Isabelle's hair and began to hum a lullaby. Flickers of golden light fell from Clary's fingertips as she felt Isabelle's body relax before falling into a deep sleep. It was one of the things she could do that no one knew about. Most flaunted their magical abilities but Clary had sworn to a panicked Imogene long ago that she would keep her gift a secret. Smiling, she laid down next to the sleeping girl and soon fell asleep.
After that night Isabelle and Clary were inseparable and the best of friends. They had slept in the same bed for months as Isabelle slowly began to open up. It had been a long process but they had each other's backs. She didn't know what she would do without her best friend. She sure could use Isabelle's advice right now.
"Halt!" The guards called out. They had been walking for hours now and the shackles that held her captive were leaving thick indents on her wrists. They had finally made it to the checkpoint and the guards had begun to set up camp. Clary gave one last look up at the sky which had long ago been concealed by thick trees. One more day and she would be in the capital city and presented to the King. One last day to plan her escape. It was now or never.