AN: So, I managed to finish another part before I go on vacation on the Azores from Friday on *cheering* this part was really difficult to write because it´s mostly dialogue and trying to get the characters up to date with what each of them is knowing. So not much 'action', but the groundwork for more to come ^.^
As always, this is not beta-read and English not my native tongue.
The words that the blonde Shadowhunter spoke washed over Simon like a breeze of air. Rationally, he knew that he should feel something – anything at all – but he just stood there, the words failing to instil any emotion in him at all.
Because a demon attacking Clary? Her being a Shadowhunter? That was so far out of the realm of possibilities that it wasn't even funny anymore. So he just stood there and waited for the Shadowhunter to discard the charade, to admit that it was just an attempt at cowering him into obedience. Fear and love were a powerful motivator, after all.
But the blonde´s expression didn't change. His mouth didn't break out into a wide grin, his eyes didn't suddenly shine with glee and mirth. They looked worried and confused, his mouth a thin line in his face.
"You can´t be serious!" Simon exclaimed and looked each of the group into their faces, just to see the confirmation for the cruel joke in their expression. But he found none.
"Where´s she?" Simon asked instead. Now dread was filling his mind; all the pages he read about demons suddenly filling his mind, informing him of all the cruelty these monsters were capable of.
"Where is she?" he repeated forcefully. The blonde looked to the other Shadowhunter – Alec, Simos mind supplied, they´d called him Alec – and it was like they had a conversation just with their eyes, unspoken words travelling back and forth within split seconds. Finally, the blonde turned around.
"Our sickroom," he informed Simon.
"Take me to her," Simon demanded, not giving a single fuck about common curtesy. "Now!"
"I certainly won´t let some Mundane into the Institute just because he says so," the blonde snorted. "We don't know the security risks you present." Simon snarled and was about to throw himself at the Shadowhunter, but Magnus grabbed him by his arm and held him back.
"Simon, stay calm," he murmured into his ear. "Flipping out won´t help Clary." The Warlock´s word managed to pierce through the red haze that had laid itself over Simon´s senses and he was able to clear his mind.
"Jace," Alec admonished the blonde Shadowhunter. "Of course you can see your friend," he said, turning to Simon with compassion and empathy shining in his blue eyes. Simon tried to ignore it – it would make the Shadowhunter human, give the enemy a face – but he couldn't manage it. He swallowed and just nodded.
"You go and take care of your friend," Magnus said. "I´ll be waiting for our other friend to arrive." He winked at Simon who just buried his head into his hands. Why had Magnus told Raphael of their encounter with the Shadowhunters? The vampire would smother him to death with his worrying and motherhen-ing! Was that even a word?
"You expect that we just let you stay out here?" Alec asked with raised eyebrows.
"Well," Magnus drawled, "you´re always welcome to keep me company." Simon snorted. He could very well imagine what kind of company Magnus had in mind. Apparently so could Alec who looked at Magnus with shock and confusion on his face.
"I´m gonna stay," the girl – Alec´s sister – interjected from where she was standing apart from them. "I´ll decapitate him if he starts any trouble."
"My, my," Magnus replied in mock-shock, "what a violent individual you are, Ms." Alec just nodded to his sister, approving of her suggestion and turned back to Simon. "Follow me, I´ll show you to your friend." Simon looked back to Magnus who dipped his head at him and then he followed the two Shadowhunters towards the Institute.
So much for staying under the radar.
Izzy looked at the Warlock standing at the curbside who was absentmindedly observing his nails and asked herself how this day could have gone so horribly wrong. They just went out to kill one demon – not even a powerful one either – and now she was standing here, guarding the most powerful Warlock in New York while he waited for some mysterious friend to arrive; all the while they had a girl who could possibly be a Shadowhunter in their sickroom and a mundane who was a walking contradiction waltzing through the Institute.
No amount of training could have prepared her for such a mission outcome.
Always expect the unexpected, her mother´s voice echoed through her head. Her face warped itself into a bitter smile. Oh, how disappointed her mother would be if she saw her daughter standing here, playing guard dog to a Downworlder. Her expression would freeze, her eyes taking that steel hard glint and her mouth would set into a grim line. Her face would be enough to make Izzy feel small and insignificant. It never failed to do so.
Sometimes Izzy hated herself for allowing her mother to make her feel like a failure. And sometimes she hated herself for being that failure, at least in her mother´s mind. Alec had his inner demons to play with and she had hers.
The closeted son and the daughter that couldn't make her own mother love her. What a great pair they made!
"Who are we waiting for?" Izzy asked nonchalantly.
"A friend of mind and Simon," Bane answered. "He is very…invested into Simon´s well-being." He smirked at that and suddenly Izzy understood. "But do tell me, does your brother currently see someone?"
"What makes you think that you´d be my brother´s type?" Izzy shot back defensively. She couldn't help but feel protective whenever someone brought up her brother and the parts of himself that he wasn't at peace with. No one was allowed to hurt – to use – Alec and she would lay waste to everyone who tried, no matter if Shadowhunter or Downworlder.
"Please," Magnus replied, stretching the word extra long to convey the utter obviousness of the situation. "I could smell the stench of denial from over here." Izzy just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. Magnus sighed.
"Fine," he said exasperated. "In my hundreds years of life I´ve only received two responses from straight males to my excessive flirting: They either ignore it or get defensive and aggressive. Your brother definitely reacted differently." Izzy had to concede the point. And then she wondered what she was doing out here, discussing her brother´s love life – or rather the lack of it – with a warlock they had just met and dragged here for interrogation.
Maybe because he was a non-judging sounding board? Izzy had lost count of how often she had wished for someone to whom she could talk about Alec. She didn't know how to help him. Should she stay out of it and wait for him to resolve his issues? Should she try to carefully nudge him along? Or should she take over the reins? There was no one she could go to for advice. Maybe Alec was good enough to fool everyone else – even Jace, his own Parabatai – but she was his sister and she could see how lonely, how afraid, how apprehensive Alec felt all the time. She could see the mask he was always wearing – the dutiful, devoted son – but she could also see the wistful glances he sneaked at Jace, full of longing, adoration, but also shame and contempt. Alec was torn and she just stood there and did nothing.
So maybe that was why she was talking to the warlock. Because he wouldn't judge, wouldn't hold grand speeches about duty, tradition and legacy like everyone associated with the Clave would. Sometimes Izzy thought that they were just corpses animated by traditions and she had to remind herself that she was more than her name. More than just another branch in the Lightwood family tree.
She was strong. She was fierce and she was her own person.
Izzy only wished Alec would recognize himself as that as well.
"Why are you so interested in my brother anyway?" she asked suspiciously.
"Carefully, your prejudice is showing," Magnus warned. "You think you know me because of what the Clave and some odd rumours have told you? Tell me, who do you think I am?" He didn't give Izzy any chance at replying, instead simply continuing on. "The man-whore? The one who sleeps around with everything that has two legs – or even more – and leaves nothing but broken hearts in his wake? One that cannot reciprocate the feelings that are freely given to him?" He stared at her, no movement in his expression. It made Izzy feel stupid – like she was one of the arrogant Shadowhunters she despised so, who would judge Downworlders without ever having met one. Shame welled up within her.
"I´m sorry," she apologized. "I shouldn't have judged you."
"No, you shouldn't have," Magnus replied.
"Nevertheless, Alec is my brother," Izzy continued. "And if you hurt him not even the Accords will be able to protect you."
"Noted," Magnus nodded.
"What makes my brother so special?" Izzy wanted to know. "You realize that he is buried under denial so deep that even the City of Bones looks like an airy loft in comparison."
"Then I´ll just have to keep digging," Magnus grinned. Izzy wanted to press on, to have her questions answered, but it was in this moment that a blurring shape appeared next to Magnus and took solid form.
A vampire! Izzy recognized and took a more defensive stance. Her hand was hovering about the grip of her whip, but she kept the weapon sheathed.
"Ah, Raphael," Magnus exclaimed. "So glad that you could make it." The vampire – Raphael – barely wasted a glance on Izzy.
"What has he gotten himself into now?" Raphael drawled and if it wasn't for his gaze that kept flitting between Magnus, the Institute and Izzy she would have believed the aura of nonchalance he tried to project.
He is worried, Izzy realized. Why would a vampire worry about a mundane?
"He may have had a little run-in with some Shadowhunters," Magnus winced and hearing those words the vampire hissed and bared his fangs.
"Ah, come on, Raphael," Magnus placated. "He´s still whole and healthy. Not a single hair on his head has been harmed." He beamed at the vampire. "In fact, I´m here as his official spokesperson!" He made a flourish gesture with his hand. Raphael´s expression, meanwhile, ranged between annoyance and incredulousness. Then he mumbled something – Izzy believed it to be Spanish – and suddenly the coin dropped.
"You´re Raphael Santiago," she sated. "Second-in-command to Camille Belcourt."
"Is that all Shadowhunters are useful for?" Raphael drawled. "Stating the obvious?"
"You know the mundane?" Izzy asked, not caring for his insult. If she blew up every time someone insulted her there wouldn't be a Shadow World anymore. "So you were the 'catholic friend' he –" she pointed at Magnus "- was messaging with during the drive?"
"Yes, I know Simon," Raphael replied. "And yes, I´m a devout catholic. Now, take us to him."
"I can´t just take you into the Institute," Izzy protested.
"I´m Simon´s spokesperson," Magnus said. "And I vouch for Raphael." Izzy was torn, but she knew a lost fight when she saw one and these two wouldn't back down. So she just let out a sigh.
"Alright," she conceded. "But if my brother kills me, it´s all on you." She gave them her darkest glower and the two men just gulped and nodded.
Yes, Izzy still had it.
If Simon wasn't in such worry over his best friend, he would have gladly taken the time to admire the Shadowhunter Institute of New York. He would have appreciated the flawless wards that gave the building the appearance of a decrepit church and that opened themselves like a curtain when the two Shadowhunters and the mundane came nearer, revealing the gothic building behind.
Statues of angels where placed every few metres along the way that led up to the main portal, their wings expanded, their swords and spears drawn as if they were ready to fight intruders at any given moment. They were beautiful crafted, every single strand of hair, every single feather on their wings visible to the naked eye. If Simon wasn't so filled with panic for Clary, he would have felt their stony gazes linger on his back as he ran along the path.
But he didn't feel any of that, didn't see the dark beauty of the compound as his mind kept replaying the Shadowhunter´s words. A demon attacking Clary. Clary being a Shadowhunter.
You knew it, a voice in his head whispered, you knew it since she drew the rune on the van. Since she saw the Shadowhunter. But you didn't want it to be true, did you? Simon took a deep breath and banished the voice from his mind. He could blame himself later. Right now the only thing that mattered was Clary.
He didn't pay any attention to his surroundings as the two Shadowhunter led him through the hallways of the Institute, his mind a convoluted bundle of worry, fear and apprehension.
Simon didn't know how long it took them to reach the door in front of which an older man, around forty, Simon would guess, was waiting for them. He had lost any sense of time in the mazy hallways of the Institute.
"Hodge," Alec greeted the other man who just nodded in response. "How is she?"
"Stable," the man replied. "Shall I lead you in?" He didn't even comment on Simon´s presence.
"I´ll be waiting here for Isabelle and Magnus Bane," Alec answered and Hodge´s expression didn't even flicker at the mention of the High Warlock´s name. "But he –" Alec pointed at Simon. "- wants to see his friend." Hodge turned towards Simon.
"Follow me," he just said and opened the door.
Behind them was not a sickroom like Simon had expected, but a whole hospital wing. Nearly twenty beds, all in white stood on each side of the room. There were cabinets full of dressing material, medicine and other stuff. It had more similarity with a full-fledged hospital than the High School like sickroom Simon had imagined. It made sense, though, Simon supposed. The Shadowhunters were fighting a war after all, even though it was invisible to all but a few.
There was only one bed occupied. Simon made a straight line for the prone figure of his best friend. Clary was so pale, her skin of a porcelain-like quality with only her hair as colourful accent amongst the whiteness around them. Simon had always loved Clary´s hair, but right now it made her look even more sick.
And her collarbone, in darkest black, displayed a rune, its form etched into his friend´s skin.
"You drew Iratze on her?" Simon hissed at Hodge. "You could have turned her into a Forsaken."
"No, he couldn't have," Jace responded. "I already told you, she´s a Shadowhunter. She got hold of one of my Seraph blade and it reacted to her." Simon swallowed. "The demon was after something. It asked the girl after a cup? Do you know something about it? Anything?"
Simon couldn't reply. He was too overwhelmed by the smell of disinfectant, the prone figure of Clary lying in the bed, the question that Jace kept shooting at him, so he just clammed up and said nothing.
"Jace," the other man laid on of his hand on the Shadowhunter´s shoulder. "I think we should leave and give the boy some time with his friend." Words wouldn't have been able to convey how thankful Simon was to the other man for his intervention. Jace looked like he wanted to continue pressing on, but the look on the healer´s face made him shut his mouth. They left the room and finally Simon was alone.
He walked towards the bed Clary was laid upon until he could nearly touch her. In some of those stupid hospital soaps that he and Clary had liked to watch, people would often fill the silence with chatter, talking about all the things that they should have said while the person lying in the bed was still responsive and when they would finally wake up, they miraculously would remember every word said.
Simon didn't say anything. He didn't say anything because he knew that Clary would wake up and then he could tell her everything that needed to be said; could come clean to her. He didn't need to fill the silence with the things he needed to have said earlier. Because Clary would wake up.
She had to, after all.
So he just sat down beside her and took her hand into his.
That was enough for him.
When Simon opened the door he was meet by a several voices shouting at each other.
"You let a vampire in here?" Jace shouted at Isabelle who looked at the blonde with annoyance. "What were you thinking?"
"The Warlock was vouching for him and seeing as he´s here in his official capacity I was in no position to deny him," the black-haired girl replied. "Alec´s right, you really should pay more attention when it comes to the Accord." Jace just gritted his teeth and was about to say something, but Simon turned him out, instead turning towards the aforementioned vampire.
"Raphael?!" he exclaimed incredulously. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, Raphael was already standing in front of him, gripping both his shoulders and looking him up and down as if he had to reassure himself that Simon was still complete.
"Dios, Simon," he said. "You can´t just go off with some Shadowhunters!"
"I´m not a baby, Raphael," Simon replied indignantly. Both Magnus' and Raphael´s expression betrayed what they really thought about that statement and Simon vowed to hit them later when the Shadowhunters weren´t around – not that it would affect either of them very much, but there were principles that needed to be uphold! "Besides, I had Magnus with me."
"The guy who refuses to leave his house without ten kilo of make-up plastered over his face?" Raphael teased. Magnus let out an indignant huff.
"What happened to your friend?" Magnus asked quietly while the three Shadowhunters continued to bicker amongst themselves.
"She was attacked by a demon," Simon replied, suddenly more subdued. "Jace told that the demon was impersonating Dot –" Magnus frowned at that "- and was pressuring Clary into revealing something about a cup. You don´t think…that it was after the Mortal Cup, do you?"
"I can´t say," Magnus responded.
"Why would they think that Jocelyn had it?" Simon wondered.
"Listen up!" Alec´s voice disrupted their conversation. "As everyone we need is here; we can finally resolve the issue for which we originally took you here for. Follow me!"
The room Alec led them to was some kind of conference room. There was no furniture in it but a big wooden table right in the middle around which they took place, Simon, Magnus and Raphael on one side, the Shadowhunters on the other.
"That are truly alarming developments," Magnus started the conversation. "First Circle members appearing in one of my clubs, and then a demon lying in wait for Clary in search for the Mortal Cup, who then turns out to be a Shadowhunter."
"We´re not here to discuss these events," Alec gritted out. "We´re here because of the clear violation you have wrought by disclosing information about the Shadow World to a mundane."
"Typical Shadowhunter," Raphael sneered. "Always going for the bagatelle when there´s a bigger picture to look at." Alec´s expression didn't change, but Jace´s too on a thunderous expression.
"Besides," Magnus drawled. "Who says that we disclosed anything at all? In fact, it was the other way around: Simon, already aware of the Shadow World, took it upon himself to reach out to me and ask me for guidance. And I, benevolent as I am, agreed to take him on as my apprentice."
Well, Simon thought wryly, that certainly was a looser way to re-interpret what had truly transpired all those years ago, but it technically it wasn't a lie. Just certain truths exaggerated, some omitted and some put together a little bit different.
"You expect us to believe that?" Jace spat.
"As long as you can´t refute these claims, my account stands as only truth," Magnus replied evenly. "My associates will confirm testimony."
"I´m sure they will," Isabelle muttered under her breath.
"But let´s get back to the more important facts than a mundane being aware of our world," Magnus continued on, ignoring her. "What does it say when Circle members are crawling forth from the holes they hid under and demons again walk the Earth in search for the Mortal Cup?"
"Valentine is dead!" Jace snapped.
"That´s only fabrication," Alec added in a more diplomatic manner. "There´s no proof."
"I know Jocelyn Fray, Clary´s mother," Magnus pressed on. Simon looked at Magnus, mouth agape. He wanted to ask – no, to demand – why Magnus had never told him, but a covert gesture Magnus made under the table let him fall silent. Magnus would explain, but not now. "And I know that at the end of the war she stole something important from Valentine. Until now I didn't know what, but someone is after it again. If not Valentine, then at least someone who has taken up his mantle."
Silence descended upon the group at the table. Each of them was aware what a return of Valentine – or someone who wanted to continue what he had begun – would mean for the Shadow World. Simon had only read of it in a few books at Magnus, because even the Warlock didn't like to talk about these dark time and it had sounded horrible.
"We can´t just take a course of action on hearsay and rumours," Alec finally said. "But we also cannot just cast these claims aside. We´ll investigate further." Simon wanted to speak up, telling them that they couldn't just 'investigate further'. His best friend had nearly been killed because of 'hearsay and rumours', but when he looked at Magnus and saw him barely noticeable shaking his head he kept his mouth shut. Magnus knew better how to play politics. He had more experience after all.
A knock echoed through the door and they all turned their heads to see the man who had attended Clary stretching his head through the door.
"What is it, Hodge?" Jace asked.
"The girl," Hodge replied. "She´s awake."
"Simon?" Clary whispered and Simon´s heart ached as he saw Clary lying on the bed, wearing nothing but hospital clothing. She appeared so frail, as if she would shatter into thousand pieces if he just touched her. Her skin was still pale, a stark contrast to the fiery red of her hair. The rune on her collar bone shone dark and made the surrounding skin appear even more ghostly white.
Simon wanted to weep and beg her for forgiveness, but he didn't. He kept his composure, pulled a chair next to her bed and sat down.
"Hey," he replied weakly.
"What happened?" Clary asked confused. "Jace –" Simos smile turned bitter as he heard the name of the insufferable blonde who had been allowed to visit Clary before even him. "- told me some things. About demons and Shadowhunters and how I´m one of them now, but that can´t be true, can it? I´m not the heroine of some fantasy novel. I´m not a 'chosen one', am I?" She looked at Simon with wide eyes, full of hope that he would just agree with her, laughing it all off and going home like none of this had happened. But he couldn't.
"Clary," Simon began, "what he told you is the truth. There is a world hidden beneath ours where all these fantastical beings that we only read about exist and live with each other. They have their own rules, their own traditions, their own fights and I´m so sorry that you were drawn in by it."
"You knew it all along," Clary stated, her voice completely devoid of emotions. And that was the worst for Simon. Anger, betrayal, he could have dealt with but this absolute lack of any emotional response was so unlike Clary that it scared him. Clary was like a storm, easy to raise but also easy to appease. He didn't know how to deal with the Clary that was in the bed in front of him.
"I did," Simon swallowed.
"Do you remember when we hid ourselves in the tree house one day during recess in kindergarten?" Clary continued, pressing where it hurt.
"Clary, please…" Simon pleaded, but Clary just continued.
"We promised us that we would never have any secrets from each other. That we would always tell the other about everything, because that´s what best friends do. I told you everything. Everything. There was nothing about me that you didn't know. And now I realize that you kept a whole world from me, a whole other life and I would have never known if I hadn't just nearly died.
And it hurts," Clary pressed on, tears starting to appear in her eyes. "It fucking hurts. Realizing that you didn't really know your best friend. That there´s a whole different person hiding underneath the face that smiled and cried with you since you were six years old. My mother has been abducted, I was nearly killed and the one thing I thought I could always rely on has crumbled into dust beneath my fingers."
"I´m still your friend," Simon stammered. "I always was. I´ll always be."
"How can I even trust you?" Clary demanded to know and the world cut through Simon like a knife. "I don't even know to whom I´m speaking: The Simon that can´t even walk a straight line without walking into something or the Simon who would stand against some highly trained elite corps with nothing but his words?"
"I did it to protect you," Simon defended himself. It sounded pathetic even to his own ears and the fact that Clary was currently recovering from nearly being killed spoke volumes about how well it had worked.
"Please, just go," Clary said, any fight having left her voice. "I need…I need to think."
"Where will you go?" Simon asked.
"I think I´ll stay here," Clary answered. "Jace offered me his help with finding my mother." Simon just nodded, don´t daring to speak because he knew that anything he said now wouldn't help his cause but just push Clary further away. So he just stood up and left the room, trying to keep his expression under control. He ignored the other standing outside the door – the Shadowhunters didn't pay any attention anyway, to wrapped up in the mystery that was Clary – and ignored Magnus and Raphael. He just kept walking and walking, not knowing where his feet were taking him.
Finally, he sat down on a bench in some empty corridor, far off from the main centres of the Institute and he allowed himself to cry.
"This is your last chance." Simon looked up to see Magnus standing in the hallway. Like Simon he didn't belong here; his flamboyant appearance didn't fit into the old, venerable hallways of the Institute that extruded elitism from every single brick.
Simon didn't reply anything, just continued fidgeting with his fingers. Magnus sat down beside him and let out a long sigh. He offered Simon a tissue and he gladly accepted. Simon knew why he liked Magnus; the warlock wouldn't comment on his red eyes and his blotchy skin, not until Simon was willing to talk.
"This will become her world," he continued. "Maybe not right now, but slowly it will take over her whole life until her time amongst mundanes will be nothing but a faint memory; like a fairy tale that she remembers from when her mother once told it to her. Just blink once and already she´ll be covered in runes. There won´t be any place left for you or even for me in that new, exciting life. I´ve seen it happen before. You´ll try, I know that. But there´ll be always more important things than going to the movies, drinking some coffee or just chilling together; training needs to be done, demons to be killed, the Shadow World needs to be protected. Sooner or later you´ll open your eyes and months will have passed by in which you haven't seen each other." Even though Magnus was speaking silently, hearing his fears spoken out aloud made it seem to Simon as if he was shouting it from the rooftops.
"Clary is my best friend," Simon swallowed. "I once loved her. Not anymore, I´m over that, but I can´t just let run off into this new world without someone having her back. Who´s gonna defend her? Jace? He´s already too busy ogling her. Alec? I don't have the feeling that he likes her very much. Isabelle?"
"And you´re the one who can offer her that protection?" Magnus asked. There was no judgment, no ridicule in his voice.
"Until the day she knows where to stick the pointy end of a Seraph blade," Simon replied smiling.
"This isn't all, though," Magnus continued. "With Valentine back, there´ll be war. The Clave and most of the Downworld may deny it, but by the end of the year we´ll be drowning in blood and Clary will be right in the middle of it."
"All the more reasons to stay," Simon said softly.
"Do you know war?" Simon and Magnus both turned their heads towards Raphael who had just walked around the corner. "Do you?" He sat down on the other side of Simon. "Magnus and I were there the last time Valentine crusaded against us. It was a terrible time; my clan kept losing its members right and left. Every day I could feel one of the bonds that connects us clan members with each other snap. I felt their pain, their confusion, their fear they felt in their last minutes and I could do nothing but keep standing and fight on. There will be nothing beautiful about it, nothing righteous or just. War is just to kill or to be killed."
"Valentine liked to target warlock children," Magnus continued where Raphael had left off. "I lost count of the number of children I had to bury; the youngest one was two and we had nothing but his bones to identify him with. He decries us as monsters that need to be exterminated and yet his and his followers committed one atrocity after another.
There´s still the possibility for you to just leave and never look back, Simon. I can ward your house, I can set up new identities for you and your family. I can destroy every evidence that points towards you ever being aware of the Shadow World. Now, before the storm sets in is the last chance. I offer you an escape."
"No," Simon said, short and concise. "You just said that there´s a man out there whose only agenda consists of the genocide of your races. Who doesn't shy back from cruelties that would make Hitler proud. My grandparents told me stories, you know, of World War II. How they managed to flee from Germany to America but no one here was willing to listen to their warnings; no one was willing to help, because they felt like they could stay out of it, because they had business interests in Europe or because they more or less silently agreed with what the Nazis did. How can I look into the mirror, how can I live with myself if I turn my back to my friends and leave them at the mercy of some crazy maniac?
No," Simon shock his head. "I will stay."
"I expected nothing less," Magnus replied. "But I had to offer."
"You won´t be alone in this," Raphael added. "Neither of us will be."
A vampire, a warlock and a mundane were sitting on a bench. It could have been the beginning of a joke. But it wasn't. It was the beginning of a new era and neither of them knew what it would bring.