Simon Lovelace, the one who had taken his best friend's name as his official surname, approached the only Downworlder that was left over in this little war between two species. He outstretched his hand, asking her to take it so he could help her stand. But once she turned her head, and he was met with the realisation that she had given her energy, to save Alec, he grew silent.

"Bring me to him," was all she asked. The former Downworlder helped her get up, taking her to the victim. She could feel everyone's heart beaten, their veins pulsing, their breath hanging in the air, the liv running through their bodies, and she could feel his too, the man that had fallen so his friends remained standing.

She knew that even though she had killed one of her old friends, there was a chance she had made a new one. The youngest soldier helped her struggle all the way to the three concerned friends, and as her tired head nodded for him to let her go, he took his hand away from his waist, and she hit the floor besides Alec Lightwood with a loud thud.

Jace's golden eyes gave her a poisonous stare, which she thought she deserved. Not only did she let it come this far, but also had she been too to prevent this from ever happening. The only reason she was allowed to come with, because she knew the demons better than anyone, and she could assure their safety. But she had failed, and they had every right to judge her.

"Stay away," the blond hissed at her, holding his brother tight. Isabell's brown eyes glanced at the warlock that had fallen down, to get a better look at the man that had fallen, pity in her eyes, though buried underneath layers of anger and behind walls no one from the outside dared to climb.

"I can help him," she whispered. She knew she could. Her magic was much stronger than the magic any other warlock possessed. She didn't expect them to understand or to forgive her for what she had done, but she was their only way out, she was the golden ticket, they just had to let her help him.

"You are the reason why he's like this. I'm not letting you help him," the Lightwood's parabatai snapped. He didn't seem to like her very much, because she was the reason that they had walked inside the room, as if expecting to walk with the monsters, instead of taking what they needed and run away.

"Jace, she's a warlock. And our best shot at saving him. We have to let her try," Clary tried to speak some sense into her lover, and it seemed to actually work, wasn't it for the fact that the one who had brought them in this mess could feel the heartbeat of the boy who was dying, slow down.

"We have to be quick, I can feel him dying," she urged, already outstretching her hands and rolling up the sleeves of her jacket, to expose her fingers, snapping them to show the others her magic, which wasn't anything unusual. The only odd thing was that her way of showing it, wasn't with blue glitters or anything alike when it came to colour, but with a fog-like cloud that hurled around her fingers.

"What's in it for you?"

The blond wasn't going to give up, though he felt his brother slip away just as much as the woman who said she had all the answers. But after everything he had been through, he disliked people who stated that they knew it all.

"Do you want me to save him or not?" she spat at him. He was taken back for a second, wanting to respond with a sarcastic comment or judgemental glare, before his sister nodded in approval, wanting the warlock to cure her brother, so she could hold him in her arms again.

Dèlia, as was her name, whispered a soft "okay,"before she snapped with her fingers once more sending a shimmer of grey glitter towards the oldest Lightwood's face. She groaned, asking more energy from herself than she had done so in a few years, though that didn't mean she disliked a challenge.

Alec didn't respond at first, so she pushed her hands forwards, causing her magic to crash against him with a bit more force. His head shifted to the side, his breath quickening as she proceeded to give him her energy, in order to let him stay alive. That was the only thing that helped, giving your own energy. Because, regarding the facts, he wasn't hurt at all, just tired.

"Excitare, potentiam tuam et gloriam tuam restaurata sunt omnia,"("Wake up, with all thy glory and all thy power restored,")she spoke with heavy words and complete easy her native language, for she was old, and she had been around long enough to know spells, being able to perform them at her will. With a side-eye at the one who still gave her a somewhat disapproving glare, she continued.

"Aperi oculos tuos, et data est illi potestas; et quia aer est respirare datum est tibi desiderare." ("Open thy eyes for they have been given power and breathe for air has been given to your longs.")

She could feel herself growing weak, as her own breath escaped her lungs and her eyes grew tired, putting up a fight to be closed, asking, demanding for some rest though she refused to give in as long as he was laying there, defeated and dying because of her doing.

The Latin language, what a beautiful language she thought it was, rolled over her tongue as if it was nothing. She knew many warlocks who had more trouble with the ancient way of speaking, so secretly she enjoyed the shadowhunters glaring at her as if she had just done something impossible.

"Quaero enim cor tuum beat, est causa quia illud non habet prohibere,"("I demand for your heart to beat, for it has no reason to stop.") she marvelled, her voice echoing through the empty room, where her friend and his clan had once lived, was now nothing but silence and blood from those that had been wounded, fighting for what she had told them was the right thing.

She could sense the man becoming stronger, his heart reacting to the spell she put on him, though he had to wake up quickly if he wanted to survive. Her grey glitters started to shimmer less brightly, her head trying to tell her that she was going crazy to think this was a smart idea and her heart begging her to stop, not wanting to risk slowing down because the warlock was stupid enough to put someone else first, instead of herself.

Her breath stopped for a second, as Alec's suddenly gasped for air. She coughed, feeling how blood dripped from her lip as she called upon such a strong and difficult spell. There were some spells which were never to be tempted by someone alike her, but today she had broken so many rules, she expected one more couldn't hurt

"Iterum adiuro te ut cor meum morabor, et cor tuum permanere percutere Paulum," ("I demand my own heart to slow down, so your heart can continue beating.")