The Rise of the Morningstar

by Skyllen

Jocelyn didn't leave Valentine after the uprising. Eighteen years later, Jonathan and Clarissa developed to young and killing Shadowhunters. Demonic blood turns Jonathan and she escapes to New York. All her efforts to start a new life attached to the Shadowhunter's values seem to fail when Clary gets to know Jace Herondale, the son whose family was murdered by her father years ago.

83. Chapter 82 Sacrifices

Chapter 82 – Sacrifices

- 1 day before the start of the war. -

"You want to enter into the Parabatai bond with Isabelle Lightwood?" repeated Imogen Herondale, astonished and no less negatively surprised than expected.

Part of me wished Isabelle was here to see the look on her face. After all, she had made fun of it yesterday. But after a few sleepless hours of tossing and turning in bed, I had left the house before sunrise. Jace's words were haunting my mind, and the more I lay awake thinking about them, the worse the panic in my stomach had become.

"The ceremony is to take place before the war starts." I have no idea where I got the courage to speak to her so imperiously.

If anything, my comment only caused Imogen's left eye to twitch in response. I didn't have to be an expert to understand that. I may not have been exactly rude, but I was definitely demanding.

"What makes you think I would allow that in all this chaos?" the Inquisitor retorted sharply, walking through her office to the large windows that overlooked the part of the city that lay in the valley. "We have just learned the location of the Mirror. I am headlong into planning the coming war against your family. Even if I were well-disposed towards you, I would not have time to deal with such trivialities. Furthermore, you cannot simply march in here and demand a ceremony as if you were entitled to it. You have not even taken the tests yet."

"As for that…" I began fearlessly, telling her without digression about the events of the previous day.

Ten minutes later, any uncompromisingness had vanished from Imogen's stern features. Her already pale skin looked as dull as a bedsheet. "For someone who should have been flying under the radar since you arrived in this community, you always manage to get yourself and others into dangers that I could never even dream of."

"Unfortunately, part of this fate was already in my cradle," I replied dryly, folding my arms in front of my chest as I looked down at Alicante next to Imogen. We stood together at the window, half a meter between us and both facing the expanse of Idris. "I wish it were different. This community hasn't made it easy for me to find my place in the past either."

Imogen sighed deeply. As if she were hundreds of years old and every minute in my young, naive presence was an imposition. "It was foolish to believe that Ithuriel would help you. The angels never interfered in earthly affairs. It was only Ithuriel's benevolence that saved you. To consider this a passed test is daring."

"If it weren't for daring actions, I would have lost my life dozens of times in all this madness."

With the windows and doors closed, Imogen's office smelled of used oxygen. I could only guess how many hours she had been here. If she even left the Gard these days. Outside, the first rays of sunlight caressed the ochre roofs of Alicante. Yesterday's storm had washed away much of the snow outside the invisible city walls, leaving behind a blurred, wild landscape. As divided between mild winter and wild spring as the fronts in this conflict.

"I do not have time for this, Clarissa," Imogen finally said, turning her back on the city and turning her attention to me. Her steel-blue irises scanned me inquisitively and she pursed her thin, emaciated lips. "We both have more important things to do than talk about a Parabatai ceremony in these dark hours. Tests or not."

My eyes followed her figure as she stepped behind her wide table and sat down on the chair. There were so many documents and papers piled up there that you could barely make out the dark brown wooden board underneath. "I deserve it," I said with all the intensity I could muster, parallel to the emotional chaos of last night. My gaze wandered from the table to the wall behind the Inquisitor. A wall that had been hastily repaired after I had razed it to the ground with one of my runes three days ago.

Imogen raised her grey eyebrows and gave me a gaping reproachful look. Before she could raise her voice dripping with disrespect, I intervened.

"I deserve so much more than that. A living mother, a healthy brother, a loving father." If it hadn't hurt so much, it would have been satisfying to watch the disdain fade from Imogen's face. "Since I arrived in Alicante, I have been confronted with an Inquisitor who hates me for something that is not my fault. A leader who has known long enough that I'm innocent and yet lets me know at every opportunity how little value my life and my actions have. Since I left my family, I have been attacked for an inheritance that I reject. I have been kidnapped, tortured, opposed and stood in the way of my father, risked my life to save the lives of others. I give everything I have, and it's still not enough. I have nothing. No family, no possessions, no dignity. And now, for the first time, I have something that I created alone. Something that my father didn't plant for me. Something that he can't take away from me. So yes, Inquisitor, I deserve this ceremony."

For a very long while, silence dominated the office. Emptiness had replaced all her other emotions. "I know what you have been through," she finally said. Her tone was like a graveyard, while her eyes skillfully ignored me. "But what would my leniency gain you? As long as your father is alive, no one can afford to be careless. I am sure I have made mistakes in dealing with you, but I learned long ago to play it safe. A girl from my enemy's house won't change that. You are not my enemy, Clarissa, but I have devoted too many years to hatred to turn my back on it as easily as the Lightwoods or even my Jace."

"I've seen what hate can do to a person," I murmured. "Hate is a path that, the tighter you hold it, the deeper it eats into your soul. Like a malignant tumor, its claws grow stronger with every thought of it. I know that hate doesn't suddenly vanish into thin air once you get your revenge. A soul full of holes is all you're left with afterward. And the longer you allow hate to take hold, the harder it will be to patch those holes later."

"Eighteen years is a long time, Clarissa. Enough to learn to give hate only as much of your soul as you are willing to give." Something behind Imogen's eyes wavered, as if she was trying to hold back boiling emotions. "But we are not the same, you and I, so don't project your weaknesses onto me. If we are lucky and win this war against Valentine, then you have the rest of your life to teach me." She frowned, clearly dissatisfied with something. "By the looks of things, my Jace does not seem very keen on breaking the ... attachment with you anytime soon. So it seems that we will have to come to terms with each other in the future anyway."

What was actually an almost amusing confession coming from the Inquisitor made my stomach clench. She would surely be relieved about what her grandson had confessed to me yesterday.

"But you are right," Imogen continued, her voice getting a little quieter with each word. "You have sacrificed and given a lot for this community. You saved Jace's life twice alone. It shows mental strength that you are even standing here. Very well. You will have your ceremony. Not in front of the Clave, but here in my office. Consider my debt to you as paid."

"Thank you." The answer came after some reaction time. My mind was still gnawing at the other things she had just said. I paused in front of her table, my thoughts stuck in the past for a few minutes.

"Was that all?" Imogen burst into my silence at some point.

The room suddenly came into focus again and something in Imogen's expression changed as I flinched away from her voice. It was only after a while that I realized I was still in the same spot.

"I have other things to do," she added mildly. I didn't know what to make of the indulgence she recently shown me when I least expected it. With anyone else it would have been nothing but the bare minimum, but with her it felt like the highest form of recognition.

I shook my chin, shaking off the stiffness and with it the weight of my emotions. You can drown in your feelings if you're still alive in two days.

"In fact, I have more." As I sank into one of the chairs in front of the table, I could already taste the aroma of Idris' green expanse on my tongue. "It's time we talked about strategies. I've worked something out."

oOo

Isabelle was waiting for me in the entrance hall of the Gard. She was leaning in the shadow of one of the many pillars, a cloak wrapped around her figure that fluttered slightly in the wind from the open gates. When she saw me marching through the hall, she pushed herself away from the pillar and came towards me.

I had sent her a Fire-message, asking her to meet me here if she was rested enough. And by all appearances, she was.

"We're getting our ceremony," was the first thing I said as we met halfway down the long hall.

A bright grin spread across Isabelle's bright red lips. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to give me a quick look. "Do you have something on Imogen that you used to blackmail her? I can't imagine any other scenario in which she would have agreed voluntarily."

"Nothing like that." The corners of my mouth turned up a little. "I just reminded her that without me, this town would have been fucked by now."

"Good point." Isabelle nodded and patted me on the shoulder.

"Are you well-rested?"

"More or less." To emphasize this, she stretched her arms horizontally to her body and stretched like a cat. "It feels a bit like muscle soreness, only deeper than usual."

I knew exactly what she meant. My body was going through the same thing. "So ... is the party still on?" I almost didn't dare ask.

"Of course the party is still on!" Isabelle shouted, a few octaves too shrilly. "You didn't think we were going to cancel it just because an angel got in the way, did you?"

"Of course not. After all, an angel is no reason to cancel a party." I rolled my eyes.

"I sent out the invitations a long time ago." Now she had the decency to smile sheepishly. "Did you just ask me to come here for the ceremony or is there more to it?"

"That's it." Which wasn't entirely true, because I must have spent another two hours talking to Imogen about strategies. I had presented some of my ideas to the Inquisitor and we had discussed their feasibility. Nothing solid, just snippets of possibilities. She had been more open to it than I had expected.

"Why did I have to get out of bed for that? You could have told me that at home!" Isabelle said accusingly, grimacing wistfully.

"I ..." A flash of emotion must have flickered across my eyes, because suddenly the false longing on Isabelle's face vanished. It was a strange sight, the way her expression froze for a split second and then her brows furrowed. I could see the silent question in her pupils, which immediately formed on her tongue.

Before Isabelle could ask her question, however, a noisy babble of voices came through the gates of the Gard. Isabelle whirled around and I slid a step to the left so I could see past her shoulders. A small group of people, all Nephilim, crowded over the threshold. All heads were turned toward the center of the crowd and, judging by their facial expressions and gestures, nervousness prevailed.

I was about to ask Isabelle if she knew any of them when the crowd parted. Like a swarm of bees, from the center of which the queen emerged in complete synchronicity with her people. Only in the center stood Adam. Followed by Gard guards who were forcing two people in chains in front of them.

My jaw dropped when I recognized Adam's parents. The renowned Demonhunters who had always been friends with everyone, liked by everyone, and always considered model diplomats. Now their arms were behind their backs, their hands tied. And their own son was leading the procession.

"What the hell," Isabelle muttered to my right.

"Adam!" My voice cut through the wide hallway as if his betrayal had never happened. As if we were still friends.

Despite the people around him talking at the same time, his head jerked towards us. His green eyes widened and for a moment the wall behind which the self-hatred was hiding broke down. A blink later and a forced smile twisted his cheek muscles.

I ran and could feel Isabelle on my heels. "What happened?" I asked before I skidded to a stop beside him – and in that moment it really felt as if Blake's shadow had never been between us. The procession didn't stop with Adam but moved in a wide arc around him. As if he was suffering from an illness that they didn't want to catch.

"I confessed everything to the Inquisitor last night," Adam said through shallow breaths. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as if he couldn't stand still. He looked nervous. And tired. "They were going to leave the city today. Herondale sent me and some of her people to intercept them at the border at dawn."

"You were there?" Isabelle sounded astonished. "How did you convince your parents not to come with them?"

Adam brushed some brown strands of hair from his face. His lifeless eyes slid to me. "I told them that I wanted to use my renewed friendship with you to get new information."

I was uncomfortable with the statement because it reminded me of why Adam had sought friendship with me in the first place. Because it reminded me that Blake Ashdown actually existed and wasn't just a figment of my imagination. Because Adam had betrayed me because of him. His parents seemed to have been aware of his spying activities from the very beginning. What talented actors. What a good farce.

"At first they didn't understand that I had betrayed them," Adam murmured. "They thought they had caught me before them. It wasn't until they were handcuffed, and I handed my siblings over to the Clave that it clicked."

"Your siblings were there?" Isabelle sounded shocked, but she also kept her distance despite Adam's change of sides. Because a bond of trust can only withstand so many loose threads before it breaks. "But isn't your youngest brother only eight years old?"

"As I said yesterday, they wanted to take the whole family with them."

"Where are your siblings now?" Yesterday, Adam had most likely saved our lives. Yesterday, it had been easier for me to push his actions away, to see only the broken young man in front of me, to feel connected to him because of my own past. Now, however ...

"The psychiatrists are bringing them here for questioning right away. They thought it would be better if they didn't see how our parents were behaving. And looking back, I'm glad they didn't have to see any of it."

I could only vaguely imagine what Adam had heard from his parents on the way to the Gard. An echo of the many things Valentine would have accused me of. But I had no idea how deep their convictions ran.

"I'm sorry, Adam." He should have done the right thing much sooner. Despite everything, I felt sorry for his situation.

Adam nodded absently. "It's their own fault. I should have done this much earlier." How right he was.

Breaking away from your parents — renouncing the values that had guided your life for years — was one of the most difficult things a child could face. Choosing right or wrong was more like choosing between eternal guilt and eternal regret. No matter what you chose, you suffered in every scenario. Betraying your own family was like giving yourself up to the knife, because despite all the twisted indoctrination, you lost the net that had caught you after every misstep. It was like cutting off your own infectious arm just to keep your heart. After that, nothing would ever be the same. There was no going back. Adam would miss his parents, think of them when he looked at his siblings, or his house, or pictures. His love for them would consume him, and knowing he had done the right thing would be no satisfaction. It would never ease the pain.

"You did the right thing," I said. "I just hope this isn't another one of your tricks to lull us into a false sense of security."

Adam's features stiffened as if he was fighting to keep his walls up. His pupils fled from my gaze to the floor, which he couldn't withstand under the weight of my distrust and his actions. "I made my confession under the truth rune and also my oath of loyalty. Go ask the Inquisitor or Magnus Bane if you don't believe my words."

My chin nodded mechanically. "It would be nice to be able to trust you again someday." A statement that held back so much more. The boiling feeling of abandonment. The burning longing for our friendship. The hot anger of Blake's legacy. What they had done to me had left permanent scars on me. Images and pain and fears that I would have to deal with for a while.

A fluttering, thin, shy smile played on Adam's emaciated lips. "That would be nice indeed." But despite all of this, I still recognized that in many ways Adam was just a victim himself. Just as I was a victim in my father's game. None of that meant that we couldn't inflict pain on others in the process.

"Come over later when you've got everything sorted out," Isabelle suddenly offered, who had probably been able to gather more from our sparse exchange of words than we wanted to reveal. She, who had never really liked Adam and yet understood that we both had a bond. She would truly be a good Parabatai. "Imogen has approved our Parabatai ceremony and we're celebrating that with a little party tonight. You need the distraction just as much as we do."

"Little party, eh?" Adam's grin showed that he was only half there.

"I always strive to exceed the expectations of those around me." Isabelle bared her teeth at him.

"I have to take care of my brothers. After that, I'll see if I can come." Even if Adam came, he wouldn't have many friends at the party. He looked around the hall, only to notice that his parents and the guards had long since disappeared.

"Understandable. Don't let Isabelle force you to come if you don't want to," I said with a warning glance at my future Parabatai, who just stuck out her tongue innocently.

"I'll help where I can," she replied, and to my surprise, she patted Adam on the shoulder. "Take care, Adam."

Adam nodded briefly, said goodbye, and then hurried away with shuffling steps to catch up with the pack.

"Problem One isn't solved, but I think he's getting the hang of it," Isabelle said with a sigh, whirling towards me with a demanding look and raised eyebrows. "Problem Two should now slowly spit out what's bothering her."

I tilted my head in her direction, too deep in thought to pay attention to her request. "Why were you so nice to him?"

Isabelle shrugged as if my question was superfluous. "I have a pretty good understanding of people. I'm good at judging them once I get to know them," she explained, playfully elbowing me in the side. "Adam has changed a lot in the last few days. He's stopped playing tricks. Now that he's taken off his mask, it's so obvious that I'm annoyed at how long I didn't recognize it as a mask."

"So you believe his confession under the truth rune? I was also able to break out of it. Why couldn't he?" My crossed arms felt like a protective shield in front of my chest. As if I didn't want to let her words get to me, but above all the budding hope that they carried with them.

"It has nothing to do with the truth rune," she explained firmly, her opinion already set in stone. "He regretted his actions from the moment Malachi and Blake kidnapped you. The possible finality of your absence, had you fallen into Valentine's hands, must have shaken him awake. Otherwise he wouldn't have ridden to the Ashdowns' estate without further ado, as if he had no interest in his own life."

"It's been days. Why are you only now so sure of your opinion?"

"He betrayed his family," Isabelle burst out and I felt her dark brown eyes boring into me, almost astonished. I didn't have the strength to turn my face to her. You of all people should understand that. "He betrayed every security for possible reparation, which you may still not grant him. I honestly can't say whether I would have taken that risk. Even if my parents were still members of the Circle."

"I want to trust Adam," I murmured, defeated. "But I can't just forget what happened at the estate. I know Adam isn't to blame for Blake's actions, but without Adam I would never have ended up at the estate."

"You don't know that," Isabelle whispered, putting her hand on my arm. There was something comforting, something understanding about the touch. As if she could understand my conflict, even if she felt differently. "Knowing Blake, without Adam, he would have found another way, which would have led to the same scenario."

"Maybe." Something in the back of my mind reluctantly admitted that she was probably right.

"Enough about Adam. Now about you," she said with an emphasis that made my stomach clench.

"Just to be clear, I'm Problem Two?"

"You can bet on it, Clarissa Morgenstern. In fact, you would be problem number one if Adam hadn't revealed his before you. If he hadn't been so out of sorts himself, he would have asked you before me why you look like you're about to run into the nearest bathroom to cry!"

"I'm pretty sure I don't look like that," I replied, but discreetly looked for a reflective surface. Except for a quick trip to the bathroom this morning, I hadn't seen my face. Looking back now, I couldn't really remember that either.

"A mirror would actually do you good," Isabelle murmured, linking her arm with mine and dragging me towards the exit. "Then maybe you'd know that your braid is crooked."

I tore myself away from her but continued to walk beside her through the hall. We left the Gard and I tugged at the hair tie until my hair fell over my shoulders in wild waves. "Better?" I almost hissed. I knew immediately that I was overdoing it.

All Isabelle did in response was to pierce me with a meaningful look. I can see right through your facade. "We're going for a walk now and you can tell me what's going on." Not a question, but a request. One that I gratefully complied with.

Half an hour later, we were sitting on the edge of one of the open spaces on the border of Alicante that the Shadowworlders used for their training sessions. Two days before the start of the battle, a lot of them were milling around here – together with Shadowhunters who had volunteered to be training partners.

Isabelle and I were sitting on the ruins of a wall that must have once belonged to a small, simple house. From here we could see not only the training sessions, but also the open land beyond, which seemed to stretch forever into the distance. Yesterday's storm had left behind a clear day, so that the visibility was above average. After all the rain, the grass and pastures had turned green again.

In contrast to this was the dark main road that wound its way out of the city. Before all this, when the world had still been intact from my naive perspective, I had been forbidden to even approach it. It led out to the country houses of the wealthy Nephilim families who could afford a second home. Herondale, Fairchild, Lightwood. The list was long.

Now my eyes were fixed on that road, like a fish on a hook, and I imagined how long the journey home would take. I knew the way back. My father had made us memorize all of Idris. Just in case we should fall into enemy hands one day. The only way you need to know is the way home, he had said. I will walk all the other ways with you.

Every breath brought with it the aroma of wet grass and trampled earth, enriched with a subtle hint of sweat. I had told Isabelle about my argument with Jace. Argument wasn't quite the right word. But neither was ultimatum. Even though he had done nothing more than pour out his heart to me, a sinking unease had settled in my stomach ever since. Like a parasite preparing to use my body as a host.

It didn't help that I had stopped talking less than five minutes ago and Isabelle still hadn't spoken. A desperate part of me hoped she would have a solution. A solution so simple that I had simply overlooked it in all the scaremongering. Isabelle had always been the person for solutions. Her intuition usually knew no mental barriers. Her open mind was creative and thought around corners that were walls in my head. No wonder her silence made me even more restless than I already felt.

When Isabelle finally breathed in the cool morning air through her nose, I braced myself for the worst. I forced my eyes on a werewolf who was engaged in a fast-paced hand-to-hand combat simulation with a witch and concentrated all my thoughts on their movements. In my head, I went through all the little mistakes I noticed in their posture and execution. I needed the distraction.

"To be honest, I don't understand your problem," Isabelle said slowly and I felt her eyes looking at me sideways. "What you did in Heaven was an exception. It's not like you throw yourself in front of someone every day to get a bullet."

"I risked my life when I stood in front of the demon that attacked Jace. I almost died from the poison. I threw myself in front of Adam and him in the training hall when Jonathan threw his knife. Yesterday was just the icing on the cake."

"Jace is a hypocrite," she said, only half joking. "He would do the same for any of us. Except for Adam." She grinned slightly.

"I think he's referring to the war," I murmured in response. "It hasn't even started yet and I'm already offering my soul to angels for eternal damnation. The war against my father will be ugly and, above all, unfair. I think he's afraid that a situation will arise where Valentine will give me a choice."

"Then we have to be smarter than them." Isabelle slammed her fist into her outstretched palm. "We have to think of an even more unfair, even more crazy plan. Jace is stupid to distance himself from you now when you could only have so little time together."

"He didn't directly distance himself. He gave me the choice. Even if I don't understand what exactly he wants from me. I can't promise him that I'll spare my own life when it comes down to it."

There were a few scenarios that came to mind. A scenario like the last time I met Jonathan. That was the worst thing that could happen. It would be easier if my own life was at stake. If it didn't require other victims, but my own. From Jace's point of view, that was the worst scenario.

"My mother died so that I could stand here today. I can't allow her sacrifice to be in vain."

"She wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself," Isabelle noted, rubbing her eyes. "She would want you to beat Valentine along with your friends. Jace's not wrong. I wouldn't want my partner to leave me in an act of conscience either."

"What if I have no other choice? What if it ends up being me or you or me or everyone?" Just the thought of it left me breathless; panic boiling over.

"We can decide that then. There's no point worrying about the future." Isabelle grabbed my arm and shook me gently to wake me up from my rut. "Seriously, Clary. Stop being so self-centered. Put yourself in Jace's shoes. Or mine. Do you really think we would stand by and watch you play the martyr? Forget it! We would fight to the death to keep you alive. We would accept death. This is teamwork and even if your father tries to use us or anyone else as bait, we're in this together."

"Teamwork," I said, letting the word roll off my tongue as I continued to watch the fight.

"Not you are fighting your family. We are fighting them. You should stop taking it personally. Imagine that we're fighting evil. All of us together. And for the record, if someone puts a dagger to my throat to force you to do something, you're letting me fucking die, is that clear?"

When I didn't answer, Isabelle tugged harder on my arm and forced me to look at her. "If you don't comply with my wishes, I will never speak to you in your next life. From the moment you put my life before yours, you are dead to me as a person. I think that should make it easier for you if it comes down to it."

I stared at her with horror in my eyes, eyes so wide my eyeballs were about to pop out. The look in her dark pupils forced me to reconsider her words. They were a ... relief. Like someone had lifted a burden from my shoulders to carry it in my place. Not that I was remotely comfortable with the idea of that situation. But it helped me deal with the dilemma of the scenario by simply turning the tables. She forced me to take a path whether I wanted to or not.

"Thank you, Isabelle." I squeezed her hand so hard I was sure I was cutting off her circulation. "Really, thank you."

"It's nothing." A warm grin spread across Isabelle's face as she leapt from the wall, landing on the uneven ground with the grace of a gazelle. Her boots crunched on the gravel, and she whirled around to face me, her arm extended invitingly. "You need a distraction. And what better distraction than kicking some arrogant vampires' asses?"

---

Sorry for updating late, I have my last exam of my studies on Monday so I' a bit stressed out ... to say the least. I'll be over after that, wooow. I'm starting my new internship directly on Tuesday, so no break for me there lol. Jesus, I just want to make my money with writing books one day. That would be the dream. Until then tough ...

Isabelle believes in Adam. Do you believe in him too? Clary and Isabelle will make such good Parabatai! I loved writing the ceremony! I'm still stuck in the strategy planning for the war. I bought the book "The Art of War" specifically to be able to put myself in the situation better hahaha. What do you think of the relationship between Clary and Jace? Is it over as quickly as it began or is Izzy right?

Do you like how the story is progressing so far? Let me know! :)

Also, again thank you guys for your kind comments. I looove to read them! I wish I could answer to you directly as I do with my readers on AO3. This anwsering back and forth between chapters is so complicated haha. Elaine and Jling, you perfectly pointed out the issues between Clary and Jace. I truly couldn't have done it any better. Elaine, I have to admit that 1989 is one of my fav albums of Taylor. It was the album that made me a fan, so it will always have a special place in my heart. Reputation is the one I associate the most with this story, to be honest, to Clary for the most part - but also with strong female characters like Daenerys Targaryen or Aelin, idk why. And Midnights is also one of my favs since it gives me the spooky, autmn October vibes and autmn is my favorite season - and my birthday's in October too haha.

Enough talking. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Since next Thursday is a state-holiday in Germany (German reunification), I promise to update on schedule! :)

Skyllen