Song inspiration: End of Beginning – Djo

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Part 4 "The Angel's Blessing"

Chapter 91 – The Beginning of the End

--- 7.5 hours before sunset. ---

It was an illusion. A well-practiced trick Clary had played on Jonathan. She and Jace had talked about it, debating that something like this would be necessary. Jonathan had had something up his sleeve in every confrontation they had had. Be it Mellartach, the poisoned weapons, or his allies. Each and every time, he had somehow outwitted them.

It was an illusion that looked so real that Jace's stomach twisted violently as he watched. His feet wobbled beneath him, as if they were about to give up at any moment. But it was only an illusion, so he couldn't give in now. Clary would never let her brother stab her, would not–

Isabelle beside him let out a scream so shrill that his legs suddenly collapsed beneath Jace. A scream so agonizing that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as if charged by lightning. A scream so twisted with pain that only one feeling could trigger it. There was nothing that Parabatai feared more. He couldn't look at his sister - couldn't tear his eyes away from her – as Jonathan caught her and every trace of the demon vanished as if it had never existed. As if it were nothing but a nightmare. As if Jonathan himself had just woken up from a nightmare, only to find that he was still in the middle of it.

As if from a great distance, Jace noticed Isabelle falling to the ground to his right. The tragic sounds from her mouth, a mixture of crying and pain, made his throat tighten. But the liquid in the corners of his eyes remained absent, even as the entire battlefield around the alleys of their roof abruptly came to a halt. No scream escaped Jace's dry throat, even though he had just called her name so often.

Jace stared over at Clary, who lay in her brother's arms, a pool of blood spreading around her petite body. A smile adorned her limp features, marked by an exhaustion that looked like days of sleep deprivation. He was close enough to see her smile. He was too far away to be there for her.

Clary's lips parted and a few mumbled words followed. Jace wanted to lean in to hear what she was saying. The silence around him wanted to be filled with something other than despair. But they were too far away, and his knees were shaking so much that he couldn't even crawl forward if the idea would have occurred to him.

But it was just an illusion. Isabelle felt the pain emanating from Clary, but she was not actually in danger. Clary had everything under control. Clary had a plan. Just like she always had a plan for everything. Because she always knew how to assess the chances correctly. Clary always knew what to do.

I don't know how to defeat Jonathan, she had said. How am I supposed to kill him when he always manages to outwit me from behind?

As Clary lifted Eosphoros, the lone rune drawn on the hilt's edge flashed. He did not remember seeing Clary draw it. He only remembered the wintry day in the garden when she had first summoned the rune. And he remembered the destruction that had followed.

Next time there will be no escape, she had said. Next time the world will be at stake.

It was at that moment that Jace's world breathed its last. Of course Clary would let her brother stab her if she saw no other way out. Of course she would sacrifice her own life to save all of their lives. It had always been her way. During the promises she had made to him and Isabelle, she certainly hadn't expected it to happen this way. None of them, not even Jace himself, had foreseen this outcome.

The illusion crumbled to ash before Jace's eyes as her sword pierced Jonathan's chest. Jonathan didn't seem to notice. For a moment, Heaven watched impassively, not moving. As if it didn't want to get involved. As if this situation was too delicate even for it.

Then Clary's final rune took effect.

The Heavenly Fire erupted like a supernova. Clary and Jonathan were the first to be consumed. Jace didn't have time to blink, he could only watch as Clary's fiery red hair was consumed by her own flames – as her figure disappeared behind a wall of blazing heat.

The Heavenly Fire discharged in a shock wave. Like a mundane's bomb, the flames struggled for oxygen and spread in circles in all directions. Embracing the roof, it leapt into the alley, looking for more fuel to devour.

For a numbingly long moment, Jace could do nothing but stare at the spot where Clary had just been lying. There was nothing left to see except an orange-red inferno. A bang echoed in his ears and suddenly the shock wave hit him head-on in the chest. Screams tore through the deathly silence that had spread parallel to the fire. Jace's body was thrown through the air, but he didn't bother to break his fall. His back slammed violently into something hard, most likely the wall of a nearby house. Jace blinked one last time at the sky. A sky split into fire and atmosphere. Then the darkness called to claim him.

oOo

--- 6 hours before sunset. ---

The fire followed him into his dreams. Dreams filled with screaming and howling. Bloody dreams that told of battles that all predicted the same outcome.

When Jace eventually regained consciousness, a part of him refused to open his eyes. He knew what he would find. This world had nothing more to offer him. This world was no longer his world. Another part of him could no longer lie still. Like a physical pain, the vivid memories in Jace's mind's eye made his limbs twist. He must have tossed and turned endlessly.

I swear that I won't sacrifice myself for anyone but you in this war, for I have already made enough sacrifices.

Humans had a saying that time heals all wounds, but Jace knew that this did not apply to the Herondales. He knew that he would not find peace for the rest of his life. Even without the constant image of his grandmother in his mind, he would have realized it in this very moment.

Jace fought through the layers of exhaustion, only to find that most of the exhaustion had nothing to do with the injuries the fire had given him. This was ... His fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket, and he tried to breathe in. It felt like his lungs didn't want to take in the oxygen. Like they were refusing their services.

After several breathless minutes, Jace felt like he was drowning. He pressed a hand to his chest, right above his racing heart. Despair tried to leave his mouth, but not even a gurgle escaped. When he raised his head to catch his breath, his grandmother's light blue eyes met his.

In the end, it was the emptiness in her pupils that drove Jace over the edge. The fact that she was sitting here at his bedside instead of planning the war told him everything he needed to know. A fact so devastating, it seemed as if it would tear the last piece of ground from under his feet.

"Nothing I could say will make up for what has happened," Imogen whispered, and the hoarseness of her thin voice would have surprised Jace if he had not been completely off track. Jace knew she had never recovered from his father's death – knew what his death had made of her. Would the same fate await him now? "I still want you to know–" Her breath caught in her throat, and under a blackening field of vision, Jace saw that her expression was free of that unapproachable coldness. She so rarely took off that mask, even in front of him. Over the years she had worn it like armor, until it had grown into a second skin. The emotions in Imogen's eyes reflected her inability to convey them in the form of affection. She had hidden from her inner self for so long that she had forgotten how to bring it to the surface at all. She lowered her gaze as if she could no longer withstand Jace's gaze.

"I ordered her to the tower," his grandmother said, staring into space. The hand that was facing Jace twitched, but it didn't grab his. He was grateful for that. He didn't want to touch her. He didn't want to touch anyone, didn't even want to think about physical contact. "I sent her straight into his arms."

Jace didn't answer. His heart had stopped racing by now. He lay back down on the pillows and looked up at the ceiling. With a jolt, he realized that he was in the Basilias. In the very room where she had lain. Imogen was now crouched where he had sat and kept watch. He turned to the side, away from his grandmother. What had he done to end up in this hell?

There was a knock on the door. It opened a crack, and a familiar head of black hair peeked through. Jace wanted nothing more than to close his eyelids and drift off. Let them sedate him if necessary. Instead, he followed Alec's figure with his pupils as he hesitantly stepped into the hospital room. Two other people followed him, but Jace could not take his focus off his brother.

"You have no business being here," his grandmother hissed behind him with protective hostility. "He needs rest."

"My apologies, Inquisitor." Magnus. He sounded weary and exhausted. "I wish the circumstances were different. We don't have the luxury of rest. We mustn't pause now but seize the opportunity."

"You do not need Jace for that." The chair scraped across the floor as she pushed it back and got to her feet. "He was never intended for this mission anyway."

Alec approached his bed in silence. His ocean blue eyes met Jace's own, and Jace could see something like tears in the corners of his Parabatai's eyes. But the moisture was quickly blinked away as soon as he sat down on the edge of the mattress next to Jace. He didn't say a word of condolence, not a word of solace. To some extent, Alec could feel the hole inside him. Besides, he knew him well enough to know what he didn't need right now.

"Jonathan failed to deactivate the demon towers," Alec's voice filled the soulless emptiness of the room. Something like a twisted smile lifted the corners of his Parabatai's mouth. "He was there, Jace. He was so close, but she distracted him and lured him away. The wards are in place and Valentine has no chance of overcoming them. The city and all its inhabitants are safe and will survive the coming sunset. Clary saved us all."

Jace knew he should feel grateful. Maybe even relieved. All he wondered was if her sacrifice had been too great. He would go to hell just for thinking it, but he didn't care. He was already in hell.

When he remained silent, Alec spoke again. His normally reserved character sensed that Jace was unable to raise his voice. "Izzy ..." Hesitantly he lowered his eyes to the floor and out of the corner of his eye Jace saw Magnus take a step towards Alec. Only when he continued speaking did Jace realize how close Alec was to tears. He pressed the syllables up his vocal cords, forcing them over his lips for Jace's sake. "Losing one's Parabatai on the same day of the ceremony." Jace had felt as breathless since his awakening as his own Parabatai now sounded. "Their bond was so fresh. It hadn't even snapped into place yet. Her condition is worrying. I don't know what to do."

Even Jace couldn't imagine Isabelle's pain. Losing one's Parabatai was the end of the world. Not that he felt he was far from the end of the world. If he wasn't there already. For him, his life was over. I can't live without you, he had told her the day before yesterday. I don't want to take a single breath in a world where you're no longer here. Now that world had become a reality, and Jace had no idea how he would ever take a breath without shattering inside.

"Isabelle needs to rest. And so does my Jace." His grandmother's tone had taken on a businesslike tone. This was no longer his family member speaking, but the authority of the Inquisitor. "They are both no longer needed for the mission."

"You still want to carry out the plan?" a new voice suddenly asked. So distorted and filled with grief that Jace didn't recognize Luke until his grandmother addressed him directly.

"The window of opportunity is closing, Lucian. Protection spell or not, Valentine's deadline of sunset still stands. Our goal of preventing the summoning of Raziel has not changed. Eliminating Jonathan Morgenstern gives us an immense strategic advantage. We have kept today's events under wraps, so Valentine and his followers are still in the dark. The mission must begin before he becomes suspicious of his son's absence."

Today's events. Jace's stomach clenched like a rubber band that was stretched too tightly and left a burning scar as a result.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Luke replied. "Clary was the mastermind behind the plan. Without her, the heart of the operation is missing. Do you really want to send the rest of them blindly into Valentine's nest?"

Hearing her name made Jace twitch as if he had been electrocuted. How miserable must he look when neither Magnus nor Alec could hide their pitying gazes?

Behind him, the Inquisitor began a sharp argument. "They are not blind. The plan has been worked out in detail with the other members of the group. Success does not depend on the presence of a single individual. This mission is in all probability our last and only chance to stop Valentine from summoning Raziel."

Individual. Something exploded in Jace. When a surge of his red-hot angel power overcame him, he was not afraid of it. He sat up in bed as if he had been stung by a tarantula. "This individual has a name!" Jace snapped at his grandmother, who whirled around to face him with wide eyes. "We have Clary to thank for the elimination of Jonathan Morgenstern. She sacrificed herself for all of us, even though none of us deserved her sacrifice. You didn't respect her in life, so for Heaven's sake, start doing so in death!"

Jace could not remember how he got out of bed. Suddenly he was standing next to Alec, the cool tiles a welcome balm for his bare feet. He was glad that the bed separated him from his grandmother. She had barricaded her emotions behind a neutral wall and only her ice-blue irises betrayed regret. "What I meant was that Clary's sacrifice will have been in vain if we abort the mission."

Now they had all said it somehow. Clary was dead. She had died. Died to protect the Nephilim from her brother. None of it made reality any more real for Jace. Or more bearable.

Clary was dead. The thought took his breath away. Saying it drove him to the brink of madness.

Someone put an arm under Jace's elbows. Was he swaying? The vision before his eyes blurred the colors like a paintbrush. He knew they were talking to him, but he wasn't listening. His grandmother was right about one thing: Clary's sacrifice must not have been in vain.

And in that moment of pain that would probably last until the end of his life, Jace made a decision that immediately cleared his mind. A decision that the Herondales had already delayed for far too long: Valentine Morgernstern had to pay for his crimes.

"We must leave immediately."

The need for revenge ran bittersweet through Jace's blood. It fed his mind with the only motivation that was still capable of making him think clearly. Reinforced by his angelic power, he knew exactly what he had to do. He would go on this mission and he would kill Valentine. He would either die or kill the man who had not only killed his own father, but also the love of his life. He would avenge Clary. Not just for her death, but for all the horrors she had endured because of him.

In the face of death, Valentine Morgenstern would wish he had never been born. Jace would make sure of that.