Eosphoros' blade was slick and dark with blood. She could feel sticky dots flecked on her face, some drying, others fresh and new. It was on her clothes. The cut on her cheek had stung at first, but now she could barely remember that it was there. There was another cut, a little deeper, on her left bicep. More than anything, she wished she was in gear. She wished she had gear on, and she wished she had more than a sword.

More than once, she had considered picking up the weapons of the dead, but it didn't sit well with her. Something about it felt disrespectful and wrong. So, she fought only with a sword.

Without so much a second thought- maybe not even a first- she shoved her sword through the back of an Endarkened who was fighting off a Shadowhunter. She yanked her sword out and let the woman fall to the ground.

Eliza said nothing before moving on. She was too close to the Citadel to give up. Too close to Jonathan. He was just inside the-.

Something grabbed onto the ends of her hair and jerked her backwards. She stumbled back before regaining her footing. An Endarkened stared back at her. "Morgenstern."

Déjà vu and uneasiness bubbled up. Something similar had occurred at the Burren.

"Part of my fan club?" She swung, the edge of her sword cutting into his shoulder.

"Your brother wants you for himself."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Sounds gross."

He reached for her in an attempt to grab. In his hurried movement, she spied the dagger on his belt. She dodged his hands with a duck. She kicked her leg out, swiping it through against his ankles. He fell, and in the motion, she reached and swiped the dagger from his belt. The Dark Shadowhunter landed on his front against the ground.

"Oooh, my bad."

He pushed up and got to his feet. His hand felt at his belt for the dagger.

"Looking for this?" She held up the dagger. "Couldn't help myself. I like sharp objects."

The Endarkened rushed towards her. Almost lazily, she slashed the dagger against his throat. Blood sprayed and she kicked him back.

"Hmm." She hummed. "I may have missed this just a little."

The gate was only feet away from her. So close she could feel Eosphoros being pushed through Jonathan's heart.

An Endarked darted towards the gate. A mace tucked under his arm as he ran from the battle. He slid through the paired swords, body halfway through when the swords came together like a pair of scissors being closed.

Eliza winced at the sight of his blood spraying the walls. But something else caught her eye.

Clary. Pressed up against the wall, stele in hand. A person in red sneaking up behind her, sword ready.

"No." Eliza gritted.

She darted towards them just as the Endarkened raised her sword, leveling it to Clary's back. Clary turned, eyes wide.

"Hey! Not my sister, you piece of shit!" Eliza shouted, raising her sword.

The Dark Shadowhunter turned. Eliza faltered, not lowering her sword. Amatis. Luke's sister.

"Perfect. He'll be very pleased when he sees the two of you."

He. Jonathan.

Eliza met Clary's gaze. She nodded once and Clary dropped her stele. Eliza lowered the sword. "You're going to take us to him." She said.

"I am."

"Lead the way."

Eliza had a death grip on Clary's hand. She wasn't going anywhere without her and she certainly wasn't going to let Amatis or anyone else near her.

"Where's Jace?" She whispered. "He's supposed to be protecting you."

"We got separated in the fight." Clary murmured. "I don't…"

I don't know if he's alive.

She would know. She knew that. Eliza would have felt if Jace had died. And she hadn't, so he wasn't. Simple.

Amatis was pushing them closer to the battle ahead. The woman had both Clary and Eliza's swords hanging from her hips. Eliza was certain it wouldn't be too difficult to reclaim her sword from Amatis, therefore she had no real problem handing the weapon over.

"So, where is the Fearless Leader anyway?" Eliza inquired from Amatis. Several once overs of the landscape and she still hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of her brother. Or Jace, but she couldn't worry about him at the moment. He was perfectly capable of handling himself.

Clary stumbled, her feet catching on a body lying on the ground. Eliza grabbed her by the elbow. "She probably doesn't even know." Clary muttered.

That was a good point.

"I always know where Sebastian is. I am the only one he trusts to deliver the two of you to him. That is why I was made his first lieutenant." Amatis said sharply.

Eliza rolled her eyes. "Trust isn't exactly in his vocabulary." Which was quite extensive.

"She's right, Amatis." Clary added. She drew to a stop as they passed over a ridge and gestured out to the battle. "You don't mean anything to him. None of you do. All you are is a disposable army. You die and he makes more."

"I see the same thing for you. Cannon fodder for the Clave. Dead Nephilim everywhere." Amatis jutted her finger to where the Nephilim force was slowly being overcome by the Endarkened. The two pieces of Jonathan's army had circled the Shadowhunters, closing in on them. And though the Shadowhunters fought fiercely, Eliza knew they wouldn't win. The Endarkened were too strong and they were too many. "The Clave is predictable in their ways and this…this is exactly what we expected."

"Where did you bring the other Endarkened from? The Clave said there were only twenty." Clary asked her.

Luke's sister cackled. "As if I would reveal that to you. But you should know, Sebastian has more allies than you think."

The two sisters shared a look before Clary turned her attention back to Amatis. "Amatis, we know you. You took care of me when I came to Alicante. You aren't this person. You're a Shadowhunter. And Luke-."

Amatis hissed at his name. "Is a stain on the Greymark name. Downworlder scum. He would have been better off killing himself after he was first bitten. Like he was told to do."

Valentine had put the knife in his hand, given the order, and hoped it had stuck.

"He's your brother." Clary reminded her. "You were so happy to see him."

The woman jabbed the tip of her knife into the spot between Clary's shoulder blades. Eliza cut her eyes in warning. As much as she wanted to strike, take her weapon back, and put the woman on her ass, she knew better. She had to bide her time, wait to be presented to her brother.

"You are naïve, Clarissa." Amatis spoke. "You don't need the Clave, the Clave needs you. And they will drain you dry, like they did me." She turned back towards the Citadel. "It was an Iron Sister who cut my marriage Marks in two. When I screamed in pain, she did not flinch."

Eliza ran a finger over the spot where her own had been. The only reminders she had of Lilith's binding of the twins was the half-faded parabatai rune and the bitter memories.

"You mistake goodness for kindness and think they are the same. But they aren't." Clary was in the process of replying when Amatis shushed her. Then, the woman stiffened. Her grey-brown hair floated out in the breeze, cold and blank eyes narrowed in concentration.

Eliza's eyes flitted to her sword before she followed Amatis' gaze down to the battle. Blood mixed in snow, bodies of the dead discarded, weapons clashing together. Seraph blades glinting with vicious movement.

Her breath caught in her throat.

A figure was moving through the chaos. Golden hair sparking, impossibly swift movements cutting down red-clad figures left and right. Fire, of the heavenly variety. He struck them down effortlessly and skillfully. The more he struck, the more fell back from him.

"Thank you." She glanced up at the sky. "Thank you."

Amatis whirled on her. "Who are you-?"

Clary's leg kicked out and curved around Amatis' ankles. The older woman tumbled down and Clary tackled her.

"Clary!"

Amatis smacked Clary and she recovered quickly. Clary's hand tugged Heosphoros free from Amatis' belt and pointed the tip right at her throat.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." Clary snarled.

"Damn." Eliza whistled. "I'm impressed." She bent down and took her own sword. A few twirls of the weapon in her hand and she was good as new. "Now," she skimmed the tip in the snow close to Amatis' face, "where's my bastard of a brother hiding out?"

Amatis was, no surprise, not willing to give up any information.

"Useless. Completely and totally useless." Eliza groaned.

"He's going to-!"

"Kill me?" Eliza whipped her head back. She stared the woman down. Clary still had her on the ground, sword at throat. "Please. I've been hearing that for years. I'd like to see him-."

Try. The word went dry on her tongue. Because there, there he was. Slithering through his own orchestrated battle, just like a snake. Blood-red gear, pale blonde hair.

"Jonathan." She murmured.

Anger that she had pushed down welled back up. He was headed somewhere. Somewhere specific. Her eyes scanned over the fight before landing on the center of it. Jace. He was going to Jace.

"Do not let her go." She told Clary, motioning with her sword to Amatis. "Kill her if you have to."

"But-."

Eliza narrowed her eyes. "It's not Amatis anymore, Clary. She's not one of us, she isn't Luke's sister. She's just another demon now."

"Are you going to be okay?"

She smiled as coldness crept up in her. Spreading throughout her body, tickling down through her fingers. Up in her head. "Oh, yeah. Perfect. Gonna go have a little chat with my big brother."

She curled her fingers around the hilt of Eosphoros. Closing her eyes, she took a single deep breath. When she opened them, she felt…better. Something she hadn't felt in a while. Clear and cold. Precise and loose at the same time. That familiar freedom from not so long ago. Freedom that, then, had meant something horrible. But today, it would be good.

She ran down the ridge, boots catching little traction as they slid her forward. Almost immediately upon reaching the bottom, she was hurtled back into the fight. All she saw was a flash of red and her sword was out, slicing the Endarkened opponent in half. Well, not proportionally but there were two pieces and a lot of blood.

Her entire being was able to sense when they were both near. Fire and ice shooting through her nerves. Close, so very close.

She ducked a hit and swung her sword out again. Metal gleamed in the air and she reached her free hand out, catching the now free short-sword in it. She took a moment to admire her newly acquired weapon. Not a bad make, something she could make do with.

And then she saw them. The sun and the moon. Valentine's sons facing off against one another. Just standing there, inches from one another. Jace's swords were level with Jonathan's chest.

Jonathan was clad in the red gear of his followers. The only difference between his and theirs was the working of golden runes into his gear. Runes from the Gray Book. Shadowhunter runes.

In their stand-off, the fighting had stilled. Everyone was watching those two boys. She had been slicing and dicing her way through, but now she walked. Her boots crunched on snow and blood, weapons and the dead.

"Miss me?" Jonathan asked Jace.

"Are you serious?" Jace asked.

Jonathan grinned at him. "You know you can't kill me with some silly blade, my Jace."

Jace shrugged. "Maybe not with just a cut or two. But I'm sure if I slice you up like a watermelon or take off your head, it might slow you down a little." The ideas rolled so casually from his tongue. As if he had considered them heavily before. Or they amused him.

"Be my guest. But you'll regret it."

Eliza's knuckles went white as she gripped both the swords.

"And why is that?" Jace asked.

The wide grin hadn't yet left her brother's face. It was a smile that teetering very daringly to insanity. "Clary and Eliza. They've been captured by one of my close warriors. Any harm comes to me by you and they're as good as dead."

She burned. Neither of them had seen her. She had a clear advantage.

"Funny." She spoke, clear and loud. "I'm standing right here."

They both averted their eyes to her.

"Liz."

"Eliza."

She waved with the foreign sword. "Not very captured, am I?" She took a step. "But I'll tell you, I'm very, very angry with you."

Jonathan was all but gleaming at her. Dark eyes alight, mouth spread in amusement. "Here to join me?"

She laughed and then shook her head. "No, Jonathan. I'm here to kill you."

"Kill me?" He chuckled. "You can try." Jace had lowered his swords. Jonathan spun and kicked Jace's wrist. The blade skittered to the ground. Jace pitched backwards and Jonathan sliced his own sword out. The edge managed to barely catch at his ribcage.

As Jace evaded another slash, she threw herself into the fray. She slashed out at him and he met her blow.

"Can you fight us both off?" She taunted.

"Easily." He huffed. "I'm the best there's ever been. Better than both of you. Combined."

She raised an eyebrow. Jace's sword met his. "Modest, isn't he?" He asked her.

"Unnaturally." She advanced.

Jonathan's forced Jace back in time to bring his sword against hers. "You don't have it in you to kill me." He gritted, pushing her back. She planted her feet firmly before swinging Eosphoros up and yanking it back down. Jonathan barely evaded the blade being plunged into his shoulder blade. "None of you can! You want to but you can't! You refuse to sacrifice for the greater good."

"You think you know us, but you don't." Jace said.

At the distraction, Eliza swung. Her sword slid against his side.

The fight became a dance between the three of them. Jonathan attacking the both of them, taking turns between them. Jace to Eliza and back again. Metal clanging against metal.

"I know Eliza. And I know Clary. And soon, I'll know her in all the ways you can possibly know another person."

Eliza halted. Her sword faltered mid-swing. Bile bubbled in her stomach. She drew the sword back and forced it forward with all her strength. "You bastard!" She shouted. Jonathan blocked the blow and sliced back. The force of the blow sent her stumbling backwards. She skidded to the ground.

Her back ached and her chest burned, all the breath and wind knocked from her.

Jace, blazing in anger, took Jonathan on. Her vision was blurred as she watched them spar. It was over too quickly, Jonathan knocking him down to the ground. Eliza pushed up on her hands, right hand feeling for the familiar touch of Eosphoros. Just as her hand closed around the hilt, Jonathan slammed his blade into Jace's shoulder.

"Jace!" She scrambled to her feet.

He was glowing. Heavenly fire licking and spreading up his chest to the place where the sword was stuck in him. A solitary flame shot up the blade of Phaesphoros. Jonathan jerked back and let the sword go, a curse spitting from his mouth. He shook out his palm, but there was a black burn mark clear as day.

Jonathan grabbed the sword and glared down at Jace.

"Try it and see what happens." Eliza warned, calling his attention. "I may not be made of heavenly fire, but I can still take your head off your shoulders."

Jonathan turned his vicious stare to her. His eyes danced around, uncertain. For a fraction of a second, she let her eyes leave him. The three of them, once surrounded by Nephilim and Endarkened, were encircled by a ring of women dressed in all white gowns. Fiery eyes. Adamas swords in each of their grips. Faces tattooed the way the Silent Brothers were stitched.

Iron Sisters.

A Silent Brother stood among them and Eliza vaguely recalled seeing him during the fight. Vaguely.

"The Iron Sisters have not left the Citadel in six hundred years." One of them spoke. She was tall with dark roped hair that fell down to her waist. "And yet, the heavenly fire calls to us from outside our forces and we must come to it. Should you harm Jace Lightwood again, son of Valentine, we will move to destroy you."

Jonathan stared back at her. "He won't save you, Cleophas, my sisters won't save you, and neither will the heavenly fire. The Nephilim are doomed to me." He made no motion of backing down.

"Retreat." The woman- Cleophas- stated. "Be gone from this place."

Jonathan glowered but made no remark in return. Eliza readied herself as he lowered the tip of his sword closer to Jace. Her brother launched himself forward and plunged the sword into the ground.

A deep rumble passed over, shaking the world. The ground shook. Jonathan grinned. The earth beneath their feet tore open, wrenching itself apart. A trench, black and abysmal, formed from where Jonathan had sunk Phaesphoros and the son of Valentine jumped into the void.

Eliza dropped her sword and dashed to Jace's side. She pressed down on the wound in his shoulder. "Pretty cool party trick you got there." She smiled uneasily.

"Thanks." He stifled a laugh with a groan. "Did it just to impress you."

The two of them were drenched in blood. It soaked their gear, coated their hair, and specked their visible skin. Iron burned her nose and she didn't think the smell would ever truly abandon her.

She examined the wound and winced. "Well, you've been stabbed by almost every Morgenstern now. Maybe we can talk Clary into doing some damage." She was not as good at diffusing tension with humor as he was. But it seemed to do the trick because he smiled back at her.

"Only if I get a medal or something."

"Daughter of Valentine, let me through to him." The Silent Brother stood over them.

She swept Jace's hair back from his paling face, her fingers lingering to slide down his jaw. With her head, she motioned a few feet away and he nodded in response. She pulled herself to her feet and moved back to let the Silent Brother examine the injury. Standing just over where she had let her weapon fall, she crossed her arms over her chest. She realized only as he set to work that the Silent Brother in question was Brother Zachariah.

The chasm that Jonathan had created had separated some of the Iron Sisters from the others. Half stood on one edge and half on the other with she and Jace. The pounding of footsteps momentarily distracted her and she turned her head back to see Clary running towards them. Heosphoros swung back and forth as she ran- surely she knew better than to run carelessly with an unsheathed weapon?

"What happened?" Clary reached her, taking a deep breath.

Eliza turned her attention back to watching the Silent Brother undo Jace's gear near the wound. "One guess." She muttered.

"Sebastian."

She nodded impassively. Eliza let her eyes flicker to the chasm. Maybe…A definite spark from Jace's shoulder drew her gaze back. Instead of blood, fire was flowering from the stab wound. Bright gold and delicately dangerous.

Apollo, she thought to herself. The sun himself, just as she had dreamt. "Will he be okay?"

In time, Brother Zachariah answered. He used his own stele to draw a rune on the palm of his hand and then pressed his open hand down on the gash.

The noise that escaped from her boyfriend's mouth was guttural and raw and unlike any noise she had ever heard from him before. Licks of fire fanned up and caught onto the arm of Brother Zachariah's robe. Jace cried out again and before Clary could stop her, Eliza was rushing to his other side.

She clutched his hand. "It's okay." She assured him. "Squeeze my hand."

Jace knotted his fingers into hers. He squeezed, applying as much pressure as he could against her hand. She sucked in a breath and his eyes squinted shut. Her focus had been so dead-set on him that she hadn't realized the fire had consumed Brother Zachariah and the Silent Brother had fallen back into the snow. Only after the Iron Sisters began to close ranks around them did she see what had happened.

Jace spasmed, his upper body jolting up from the ground. His neck craned as his head remained still. The Iron Sisters were chanting the name of the Silent Brother as his own cries mixed in with Jace's. Whatever he had tried to do to help Jace had gone wrong very quickly.

"Lizzie."

She shushed him, using her free hand to try and keep his body still. "I'm here. Just try to keep still, okay?"

Not that he listened at all. His elbows wobbled as he tried to use them to prop himself up. He attempted to sit up several times, but on each attempt, his elbows gave way. "What did I do to Brother Zachariah, is he okay?"

Her bottom lip worried between her teeth. "It'll be okay, Jace. Here, keep still while I try to fix you." She moved her hand from his uninjured shoulder to grab her stele. "Clary." She waved her hand.

Her sister was next to her in an instant. "What do you need me to do?"

Eliza pressed her stele into Clary's hand. Their eyes locked. Usually the same shade of green, bright and ferocious, but Eliza's eyes were dark, as abysmal as the chasm that Jonathan had opened in the earth. "Heal him. You're runes are more powerful than mine. You have to do this."

Clary nodded as she took the stele and steadied it in her hand.

"No!" Jace writhed. "Don't! I could hurt you, both of you!"

Eliza pushed her hand down on his chest, holding him in place. "Stay still." She ordered. Not that he listened. He never did. Her fingers curved around his shoulder as she forced his body against the ground. His hand squeezed hers and her fingers started to lose feeling. "Focus on me. The sound of my voice. Do you remember when we were in Greece?" The tip of the stele was pressed to the wound. "We snuck off and took that boat out on the water. You tipped us over and we decided to go skinny dipping?"

He spasmed up again. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Wind gushed back against her and she looked up from his face. Portal! She could see Angel Square, fuzzy and distant. But there. "Thank the Angel." She breathed.

Clary had slumped next to her. Eyes closed, hands limp. Jace himself had stilled under her hands. Eliza sighed and lowered her head.

When faced with the decision to be at the side of her near-death boyfriend or her near-death sister, Eliza chose Clary. It wasn't an easy decision for her to make. Jace and Clary were the two people she loved most in the world. But when it came down to it, she couldn't bring herself to choose him over her. Clary had expended all her energy into trying to save Jace's life and in turn, had nearly died herself. Eliza very well couldn't leave her after that.

Which was how she found herself sitting on the ground of Angel Square. Knees pulled up to her chest, arms wound around them. Clary was on the floor a few feet away, sheened in the dark blue light of Magnus' magic. She very much looked dead, but Eliza knew better. She was alive, barely, but she was alive. Her skin, normally pinked with color, was a pale white. The ends of her fingers and her lips blue from what could have been frostbite.

Her mother and Luke were both knelt on Clary's side, Magnus across from them as he worked his magic. The weight of everything had not fully set in on her yet. Jonathan's escape, the heavenly fire bursting from the seams of Jace's injury and consuming Brother Zachariah, Clary's own state of being, and all of the information that Magnus had relayed upon his arrival.

Eliza had been more than relieved to see him. She had missed him, immediately having thrown her arms around him once she laid eyes on him. And then she saw the grim look set on his face. Magnus very rarely looked forlorn. Even when upset, he tended to mask his emotions.

After attacking the London Institute, Jonathan turned his forces to the Praetor Lupus. He had killed the Praetor in charge and most of the werewolves that had been there. Jordan Kyle was dead.

She didn't know Jordan all that well, but he had been nice. Nice enough to help Jace try to not be burned alive by the heavenly fire inside of him. She knew him well enough to be sad he was gone and angry at the circumstance in which it had happened.

Will she be okay?

Magnus' eyes lifted from Clary. The deep yellow focused in on her. It will take time. Almost all her energy is depleted. Why don't you go check on Jace?

She shook her head. She didn't want to be around him, especially not while the Silent Brothers were ministering to him. I'd rather be with her.

Little dove, you need to clear your head. It's a wreck in here.

She felt him retreat and when she looked back at him, he was fully attending to Clary once more. He was right. Her mind was a mess from the day's events. Jonathan had managed three attacks, and in his wake, Jace and Clary had almost died. How many others were dead? Injured? How many more would lose their lives in the war he was waging? Or be turned into Endarkened?

She stood up and picked up her sword.

"Are you going to check on Jace?" Her mother called.

She hadn't even noticed that Simon had arrived- as for how that was managed, she'd worry about later- and that Luke was speaking with him. And from the look of Simon's face and the Praetor Lupus pendant hanging between them, he was filling Simon in on a few things.

"No." She answered. She whisked by Magnus and Clary and picked up her stele.

"Then where-?"

Jocelyn's eyebrows were knit in confusion. Eliza leaned and kissed her on the temple. "Don't worry. I'm not going after him. Yet."

Jocelyn said nothing else.

Without another word, Eliza walked away from her family. One question rang out in her mind: Would she ever see them again?

The toe of her boot nudged open the door. The cottage was as it had been the last time she had stepped foot inside. Desolate. Coated in thick layers of dust. Perhaps she had been wrong, and she had been the last person to step foot inside the cottage. Maybe-.

No, there they were. Lightly made shoe prints over the layer of dust on the floor. She followed the footprints down to the basement. The door into Valentine's small study was thrown open. Had she left it that way the last time? No, no said the footprints. Weapons were missing from the wall and tables.

Jonathan had been there. And recently. It seemed neither of them could resist a trip down memory lane.

The prints traced back over themselves up the stairs. Straight into what had once been their shared bedroom. The door was shut, locked. She drew an Opening rune next to the knob and pushed the door open.

Her nostrils burned immediately from a sour odor. She covered her nose with her arm and stepped into the room. Jonathan's bed was on the left, hers on the right. Both still made in pristine condition. A ritual they had complete in silence every morning. Get up, make the bed, report for breakfast, and then a day full of rigorous training.

Eliza was about to turn from the room when she saw it. The piece of paper on her bed. Familiar lines etched to form a picture she had stared at over and over again.

"No…" She murmured. The floorboards creaked under her as she walked through the room to her bed. Sure enough, it was the drawing. Clary's drawing of she and Jace in the park. Dark dots of dried blood still flecked the paper. Eliza picked it up and flipped over the sketch paper.

He had scratched over the phrase that Jace had written and replaced it with his own.

Come and get me, little sister.

She stuffed the paper in her back pocket. Somewhere in the house, a floorboard creaked. Was that…?

She readied her sword and crept from the bedroom. The sickening odor became overpowering. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and the skin on her arms prickled. The door to the basement was wide open, as she had left it. A light shined up.

She hadn't turned on any lights.

"Shit."

Something heavy slammed into her and she went flying into the wall. Her sword clattered to the floor. Head spinning, she blinked before looking up.

Blood-red gear. Two morning stars in hands. One of her brother's damn Endarkened.

He swung both the weapons, the spiked balls headed straight for her face. She pushed forward, sending her body towards him. She collided into his calves and he went stumbling back. In his stupor, she darted for her sword.

The fire had reached up the basement stairs and was taking over the frame of the door. Flames trickled over the wooden floor of the hall.

Jonathan had really gone overboard.

The Endarkened grunted loudly as he lunged for her. She jumped up on the kitchen table and slashed downward. He met the blow with one of the morning stars. The chain sparked against the edge of the blade. He swung with the other and she danced to the side.

Eliza jumped down behind the table, positioning herself between the table and the counter. She tossed her sword on the counter and braced herself. Pressing her back against the counter, she lifted her legs and kicked back against the table. The force sent it careening back and into the Dark Shadowhunter. She grabbed her sword and glanced back at the hall.

The flames were consuming the entire hall. Creeping their way into the living room. How were they burning so- Gasoline. That was the smell. The cottage was covered in a hazy cloud of dark smoke.

The flames aren't what will kill you. It's the smoke you need to worry about.

Eliza dashed for the door. She had to get out of there. Let the Endarkened burn.

His hand wrapped around her ankle and she was thrown backwards. He towered over her and reached down, picking her up by her throat.

"He has a message for you."

Her hands beat against his. Nails clawed into his skin. Her throat was burning, eyes watering. Lungs aching.

"Come alone." He continued. "He will beat you and you will have to stand and watch while he burns your world to the ground. Only then will he end your miserable existence."

The Endarkened tossed her back to the ground. He left his discarded weapons on the floor and headed for the door. She picked up both the morning stars and leveled them. A little too heavy for her, but they'd work.

"Hey!" She shouted at him. He turned. She took several steps to stand a few inches from him. "I've got a message for my brother." Before he could react, she pitched both her arms towards each other. The chains of the morning stars wrapped around his throat. She tightened her arms which tightened the chains. The spikes cut into the sides of his throat. "I don't like being threatened."

One quick snap of her arms and his head was no longer attached to his shoulders.

Eliza dropped the morning stars and relaxed her shoulders. She grabbed her sword and trudged from the house. Her eyes were blurry, vision hazed from the smoke. Her lungs felt heavy and uncooperative. By the time she made it a few feet away from the cottage, her legs were ready to give.

And give they did.

She collapsed to the ground, relishing the cool grass. Behind her, the cottage erupted in flames.

Magnus…I need…I…