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The fire message came screaming through the air on the immediate heels of the latest proclamation from the Clave - that all Downworlders were to be considered a threat to and their mission and were to be treated with extreme prejudice. Alec had barely had time to finish reading the email before he’d reflexively caught the message flying at him.
A single sentence, stamped on the burning page had his blood going cold.
The Downworld Goes to War
Magnus’ flourishing signature as the High Warlock of the Downworld was at the bottom, a bold, loud statement of whose side he was on, no matter his past allegiances, cracked Alec’s heart in two. He took a shaky breath, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to breathe. He could feel Jace’s panic through the bond at whatever he was projecting, but it didn’t matter, none of it mattered now.
Alec forced himself to take a deep breath, then another, then another. His hand trembled as he reached for his pad and he forced it to steady before he picked it up and hit the key for the announcement system, triggering an all-hands alarm. They didn’t have much time, and he could see that, based on the emails flying into his inbox rapid fire.
“Everyone, this is a red alert. All available staff must report to their positions immediately.” Alec paused, and he could already hear the orders being shouted outside his door in Operations. Andrew and his Officers would have seen the same email that he had, but they didn’t know what he did. He turned his eyes to the fire message in his hand and let out a shaky breath. Hitting the button for the speaker again, he made his choice. “The Clave has called all Institutes to war.”
~!~
Magnus let out a shaky breath as he watched the rest of the warlocks step through the portal and disperse among the ranks. Ahead of him, The Glass City gleamed, and he was close enough to touch the wards like this. But if they were to have any hope of preventing the massacre of downworlders across the entire planet, they had to act, and act now. Attacking Alicante, destroying the seat of corrupted power at the heart of all of this was their only chance to protect everyone else.
“Are you sure about this?” Ragnor asked, glancing at Magnus, closing the last portal to step up beside him.
Magnus clenched his hands into fists before tilting his head up to look at the wards in front of him. “We don’t have a choice. If we don’t stop them, here and now, so many are going to die.”
Ragnor nodded. “You know-”
“Don’t,” Magnus breathed, his voice going whisper-soft. “Please.” It felt agonizing to even hint at the thought. “Do not. If I am going to do what needs to be done, I cannot think about it.” If he stopped to think for more than a second, if he thought of anything other than the people that he had to protect, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it.
Ragnor reached out to give Magnus a squeeze to his forearm. “Then we will do what must be done, my friend. How many do you need to help pull down the wards?”
Magnus turned his eyes to the shimmering silver of Alicante’s wards and breathed out slowly. “None,” he said, giving a shake of his head. “In the event that we are not successful, I will have no one else implicated for this crime. Not even you.”
“Magnus you can’t-”
“Watch me,” Magnus snarled, stepping forward. They couldn’t afford a further delay. Every minute they wasted was another downworlder who could be caught and found by the shadowhunters, blamed for the simple crime of living. The army behind him, almost one thousand wolves, warlocks, and vampires, moved in closer. He lifted his eyes to the wards and reached out to press his hands to them. They rippled under his touch and with a slow breath, Magnus did what he knew was possible, but no one besides Ragnor knew he could do.
He stepped through the wards.
Magnus tensed, his shoulders nearly around his ears, but there was no alarm, the demon towers were not activated. He nodded and turned to put his back to the city. The wards had always been designed to keep any outside threat out. They had never been designed to be torn down from the inside, and here, like this, it was easy to feel the cracks that were the results of centuries of patch jobs. He could do this. It would be easy to do this.
“On my mark,” Magnus commanded. “It’s a straight shot to the Office of the Consul, and we know the Clave is convened right now due to how many ordinances are being sent out.” He’d seen them, orders to hunt certain downworlders on sight, bounties being given for himself, and others who were deemed “High Risk”. His skin crawled and he bit down on his lip hard enough to taste blood. “We take all the captives we can to enforce order - but they will come at us with lethal force. Reciprocate as necessary.”
Magnus deliberately did not think of Alexander being one of the nephilim to stand between them and their final goal. He could not. Instead, he took another deep breath and carefully reached for the magic that he liked to imagine he no longer had access to. The brilliantly violent magic surged up for him, so eager to be set free, to be given true purpose - to destroy all things in its path. The violent swirling red mixed with the usual blue of his magic until there was a growing cloud of purple magic slowly expanding along the edges of the wards.
It creeped along the wards, further and further along, finding every single crack that was hiding as Magnus pushed more and more magic out of him and into the wards. When his magic had more than half of it surrounded, Magnus stepped back, magic trailing from his fingertips. He turned to look at Ragnor and lifted one of his hands, magic dripping down his arm to the cloud surrounding the wards. He paused and took another breath.
The snap was loud enough to be a gunshot, but it had nothing on the echoing roar that followed as Magnus’ magic proceeded to light the night sky and devour the Alicante wards. Magnus turned and led the grim charge as the demon towers erupted in warnings, and the wards above head continued to disappear. Shadowhunters were pouring into the streets, and Magnus used his magic to knock them back into their houses, unconscious, slamming the doors shut after them. Unlike them, he, they, would show some semblance of mercy.
An arrow flitted towards him, and Magnus’ heart leaped in horror and recognition, but Ragnor was there, destroying it in a flash of magic before it could reach him. His eyes jumped to the Nephilim charging out of the Institute, but the woman holding the bow was not Alexander. His heart reluctantly began beating again.
“Pay attention,” Ragnor snapped, shoving his magic at another Nephilim to clear the way for the wolves darting forward and into the alley ways to keep them from being flanked. “I can’t save your life whenever you’re distracted!”
Magnus shook himself and turned his attention to the shadowhunters mustering outside the Office of the Consul, weapons lit and poised. Any sounds of skirmishes were disappearing behind them and Magnus could only hope that his people had obeyed his order to use lethal force only when necessary.
“Well if it isn’t Magnus Bane.”
Magnus lifted his eyes, slowly, looking Victor Aldertree in the eye as the man stepped forward, seraph blade unsheathed and lit. “Were you expecting anything else?” he asked, magic gathering around his hands. “We came here to stop this madness, and we will not hesitate to go through you.”
Aldertree raised his eyebrows and gestured behind him. “Even if your precious Alexander is waiting to cut you down?”
Magnus’ heart stuttered, because Alec wouldn’t, he couldn’t, there was no possibility that he…
Aldertree’s smirk widened. “He is a soldier. When the Clave called Her Institutes to war, the New York Institute answered.”
Magnus hid his flinch, but only barely, relieved, again, for the presence of Ragnor beside him to keep him steady when there was a yawning darkness on the other side of this fight that he didn’t want to contemplate. He wanted to believe otherwise, but he had no reason-
“From above!” Raphael shouted.
Magnus spun, magic at the ready for the attack coming from above, but the four shadows were not aiming for them, and in fact landed directly between them and the shadowhunters. He kept his magic tense, his eyes widening when he caught sight of wide, spread wings. He took a step forward, but the wings of all four were obscuring his view.
Alec didn’t turn to look back at Magnus, at the other downworlders. He wouldn’t, he hadn’t earned that right to join them in battle, but he would show them that they were not alone in this war. He tilted his head up and met Aldertree’s shocked eyes.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice loud enough to carry in the sudden stillness. “My Institute was called to war, Aldertree. And her people have answered.” He took a step forward and nocked an arrow on his bow. “Per Clave law, the Head, or Acting Head is a General, and they rule under Martial Law in their own territory. They answer to none in times of Nephilim War, not even the Consul.”
Magnus’ heart tripped in his chest as he listened to Alexander, because that was Alexander standing there, somehow, with wings that had to be almost twenty-five feet in span.
“Magnus,” Ragnor hissed. “What the hell is going on?”
Magnus shook his head. “I don’t know,” he hissed back. “But they’re providing a hell of a distraction right now. Order the vampires in the rear to flank, quickly.” He wouldn’t give up on their plan for anything, not even Alexander standing in front of him.
Aldertree’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’re here to fight against the downworld threat that has stormed Alicante?”
“Jace, Clary,” Alec barked out the names and gestured to them, watching as they moved a few feet away and began drawing in mid-air. The portals shimmered to life, and on the other side, he could see the full martialed force of the gathered Institutes. He took a breath, slow and measured. He turned, just enough to glance behind him and caught sight of Magnus, meeting his eyes for the briefest of seconds before he faced Aldertree again.
“I am here, leading my people, against the threat to my world and everything I hold dear. A threat that has no boundaries, no reservations, and would tear our world apart in the name of prosperity.” Alec took a step forward, his voice firming as he spoke louder.
“Shadowhunters of Alicante and the Alicante Institute,” Alec said, raising his voice further still, swiping his stele over a rune to ensure it was magnified.
“That’s enough!” Aldertree started.
“The Clave has called for a genocide!” Alec snarled the words and felt the jolt of it go through his people behind him and the shadowhunters in front of him. “They have sanctioned the massacre of children, of families, of those who have abided by the Law, and who want nothing more than to live their lives. They cite our mission, the mission given to us by Jonathan Shadowhunter and the Angel Raziel himself, as the reason for this destruction.”
Alec’s chest heaved as he stepped forward, his wings quivering behind him. “Before you stand eight Institutes! New York, Sydney, Mumbai, London, Vancouver, Tokyo, Mexico City, and Cairo. They stand behind me, and behind the true mission we have been called to as Shadowhunters.”
Magnus’ eyes widened and more and more shadowhunters poured through Portals that Jace and Clary were still opening, Shadowhunters that he had never seen before, that he didn’t recognize. He blinked hard, tears gathering in his eyes as he watched the show of force in front of him, not standing in their way, but with them in a way he had never considered possible.
“A paltry force,” Aldertree scoffed. “All of you will be hanged for treason!”
Magnus watched as Alec froze, lowering his bow, even as his wings tensed, and he subtly shifted his weight. In an instant, Alec had shouldered his bow, and used his wings to propel himself more than thirty yards forward, his seraph blade buried to the hilt in Aldertree’s chest. There was a sickening sound as he withdrew the blade, and Magnus watched as blood dripped from it, and Aldertree crumpled to the ground in a heap.
Alec lifted his eyes to the other shadowhunters standing in front of him and spread his wings wide. “Surrender, or face the blades of your fellow shadowhunters, who have come here to do what is right, and what must be done.” A flicker of doubt solidified and he smirked as one after another, more than two dozen shadowhunters lowered their weapons and stepped to stand behind him and face their comrades. Aline Penhallow and Helen Blackthorn came to stand behind him, their chins held high.
Magnus didn’t manage to register the same woman as before lifting her bow in time, an arrow pointed squarely at Alexander. He moved in a way that should not have been possible, his magic responding to the demand, until he was standing beside Alexander, an arrow clenched in his fist, the blade mere inches from Alec’s eye. He threw the arrow to the ground and let magic dance around his fingertips. He turned to Alec with a proper smirk, gesturing to the armed shadowhunters in front of them.
“Shall we?”
Alec met Magnus’ eyes and nodded. “We’re following the High Warlock of the Downworld. Give the command, sir.”
Magnus’ eyes lit up and he smirked, turning to the army behind him made up of shadowhunters and downworlders, standing side by side. “For the downworld,” he snarled, turning to charge into the ranks of the shadowhunters standing in their way. Beside him, he felt Alec’s blade protecting his back, his wings shielding him just as easily and often. More surprising was the way that his magic moved around Alexander easily, as though they had always been made for this, a dance they’d always known but never practiced.
His heart sang. He hadn’t had to make a choice.
–
Two days later, with the last of the city searched for the remaining Circle members that had fled, and the last traitors had been locked up to wait their deruning, Alec sank down on the stairs in front of the Office of the Consul. They had been scrubbed clean, but the faint stains and smell of blood from the battle was still prevalent.
Alec let out a slow breath and let himself take in the new reality their world had stepped into. Alicante and The Clave as it had been for thousands of years had fallen. In its place would be something new, something built on the blood of all who had died that night for sake of the downworld. On top of that, Isabelle’s strike team with Clary and Jace had returned even more good news - Valentine’s body, along with the Mortal Cup and Soul Sword.
Alec’s wings twitched behind him and he drew them in closer, looking at the rune on the back of his hand. When Clary had drawn it, she’d said it was temporary, but unlike the rune on her, Isabelle, and Jace, his remained, and so did his wings. He’d barely been able to clean them, but at least they were free of matted blood, and he’d figure something out longer term.
But for now…
Alec watched as the bakery across from the Office opened for the first time in days. Watched as fresh loaves and other pastries were put into the window, and how a warlock and a werewolf approached the store and were welcomed in. Something in his heart eased at the sight and he let out a breath in relief, hanging his head. The city would survive this. His people, somehow, would survive what they had had to do.
“Thinking heavy thoughts, Mr. Lightwood?”
Alec’s head shot up and he stared at Magnus, dressed resplendently as always, holding a coffee cup from… His heart gave an uncomfortable lurch as he realized that it was coffee from his favorite shop in Alicante. Where he would have taken Magnus if he’d ever had the chance… before. He’d barely seen Magnus in the past two days, and with good reason, and he couldn’t help drinking in the sight of him now. He was out of reasons to stay, and Clary, Isabelle, and Jace had returned to New York, and he needed to return soon as well.
“Nah-”
“Silly me,” Magnus said, climbing the steps. “Your thoughts are always heavy when you look like that. Must be especially heavy to have a frown like that on your face though.” He paused, down a few steps from Alec and raised his eyebrows as he sipped his coffee. “What’s wrong?”
Alec looked down at his hands. The skin was cracked and dry from the number of times he had washed his hands in the last two days, trying to get the phantom feel of blood off his fingers and out from under his nails. He fought down a shudder and breathed out slowly. Every second he spent looking at Magnus made him ache, but the idea that he soon wouldn’t get to see Magnus again for who knew how long was even worse.
“Nothing,” Alec managed, shaking his head, ordering himself to focus. “How’s the forming of the Council going?”
Magnus hummed softly and took another sip of his coffee. “I received your recommendation for Aline Penhallow and have accepted her application as Nephilim representative. She seems an excellent choice and is eager to work with us.” He paused pointedly before his lips quirked up in a smile. “She’s appointed Lydia Brandwell as Inquisitor.”
That was enough to get Alec to muster a real smile. “Good,” he said, nodding. “She’ll whip the remaining Institutes that are attempting to hold out into shape.” He let out a small, relieved breath. Things here would be all right under the two of them, everything would fall into what it needed to be, going forward.
“The only remaining issue is who will be Consul going forward,” Magnus said, looking at Alexander who was… still not looking at him. He sighed. “All of the candidates you recommended to me have refused.”
Alec flinched and sighed, picking at the skin of his thumb. He’d been afraid of that. Shadowhunters were raised in a martial society, and with a civil war on their hands among the Nephilim, he knew who all of them would demand. “I’m sorry.”
Magnus frowned. “It’s nothing that you should be apologizing for, Alec. You know who all of them have recommended in their stead, I am assuming?”
Alec swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”
“And you’re sure I can’t convince you-”
“I-” Alec started and then lost the words, glancing up at Magnus and then down at his hands again. If none of his recommended candidates had accepted, that meant they ran the risk of the job going to someone ill-suited for it, and they both knew it. But being in constant, close proximity to Magnus like this, it was going to kill him, slowly, agonizingly. But maybe that was what he deserved. “I’ll accept the offer,” he forced himself to say. The words were ash in his mouth, but he would do right by what the downworld deserved.
“Excellent,” Magnus said, moving closer. “Then that leaves only one matter left for us to discuss.” He sat down beside Alexander and looked out at the streets of Alicante in front of them.
Alec tried not to hunch his shoulders, tried to keep himself relaxed and calm, but with Magnus this close he could smell the faintest hint of sandalwood and his heart ached badly enough that it hurt. “What’s that?” he asked, slanting a glance over at Magnus.
“How many Institute Heads answered your call, but were dealing with internal strife too bad for them to send troops?” Magnus asked.
Alec frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, scrolling back through his messages, counting quickly. “Thirty-seven out of one hundred and six active Institutes.” He turned off his phone in a quick swipe. “We lost nine of them, but the others were all able to turn the tide and take control, and imprison those willing to follow the Clave mandate.”
Magnus hummed again. “And if I put anyone other than you in as Consul I risk the rebellion of those remaining twenty-eight?”
“It’s a possibility,” Alec allowed. “Unlikely, but possible.”
Magnus let out a breath and sipped more of his coffee. “Then tell me the truth about why you didn’t want to be Consul. Secrets bred the world we are in now, and I will not have this new one begin the same.”
Alec closed his eyes and felt the world melt away save for the roaring in his ears. Of course Magnus would make him admit it. Of course Magnus would make him say it. Maybe this was his punishment, and oh he deserved this and worse for what he had done. “You already know the answer to that question,” Alec said, his voice soft.
“We’re living in a very different world than we were two days ago, Alec. I don’t know what is true and what isn’t any more. Whatever the answer is, I won’t judge you for it, you have my word,” Magnus said, reaching out to touch his arm. When Alec flinched, he winced and pulled his hand away.
Alec swallowed and turned to look at Magnus, Magnus who wanted, was demanding the truth from him and Alec hated it, not because he didn’t want to give it, but because it would shatter this fragile camaraderie they had somehow found again. But he wouldn’t lie to Magnus, not again, not after that was what had ruined everything.
“I…” Alec let out a low breath. “When I saw the notification from the Clave, and your message shortly after, I knew what you were going to do. I knew that you were going to storm Alicante. It was the only option you had.” He looked down at his hand, scratching at the feeling of blood flaking off his skin. “Just like I knew my only option was to be there with you, standing by your side.”
Magnus’ eyes widened and he stared at Alec, before swallowing hard. “Alec.”
“I don’t want to be in Alicante every day, because I don’t want to be around you every day.” He caught the flinch Magnus gave and cursed himself for it, before forcing the rest of the words out. “Because learning to breathe through, through…” he cut himself off, before beginning again. “Because being around you constantly, knowing what I, I destroyed, I lost, is a torture I didn’t want to try to have to live through in close proximity.”
Alec took a shaky breath and ignored the soft exhale of his name from Magnus, ordering himself to keep going. “But I won’t let anything risk what we’ve finally established, especially after all of this bloodshed. A line in the sand must be drawn, and you’re right that I’m the best person to do that for the Clave right now.”
Magnus was silent, staring at Alexander beside him. He cleared his throat and looked down at his coffee. “I can’t stop thinking about you, walking around the city. Wondering what you’d tell me about this place or that. I see your ghost around every corner.”
Alec inhaled sharply, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. His exhale was shaky and unsteady and his hands were shaking in his lap. “Your coffee is from my favorite coffee shop.”
Magnus laughed, sad and wet. “Of course it is.” He sighed. “Of course it is,” he repeated, softer, staring down at the cup, blinking hard.
“Magnus, I’m sorry,” Alec said, all in a rush.
Magnus’ head snapped up and he stared at Alec. “Alec-”
“I should have told you about the Soul Sword,” Alec continued, ignoring Magnus’ attempt to interrupt him. “I’m sorry I didn’t, and I’m sorry that it made you think I don’t trust you with everything I am, Magnus, because that’s not true, it will never be true, in fact…” he heaved in a breath and met Magnus’ eyes that were wide and golden, staring at him.
“In fact, I’m not…” Alec swallowed. “I’m not sure I can live without you.”
Magnus reached out and cupped Alec’s jaw in his hand, stroking over it gently with his thumb. “You went to war for us, Alexander.”
“For you,” Alec corrected, his voice soft. He wasn’t going to hide this from Magnus. Not when it was the truth of his entire universe. “I went to war for you, Magnus. To protect you. To change the world, my world, for you.”
Magnus swallowed, blinking hard, his eyes watering at the quiet, certain declaration from Alexander, even as he gently stroked his thumb along Alec’s jaw, watching as he leaned into the touch. “I thought I had to choose between you and the Downworld…” He let out a soft, watery laugh. “But I didn’t.”
Alec trembled, trying to hold himself still, unable to look away from Magnus’ eyes that were shining with something that might be tears, wanting to wipe them away. “Magnus…”
“Do,” Magnus swallowed, clearing his throat before meeting Alec’s eyes again. “Do you think Isabelle can run the New York Institute in your stead?”
Alec blinked, the question throwing him off, but he nodded readily enough. “Yes, of course.”
“Move to Alicante with me,” Magnus said, his eyes intent as he stared at Alexander. “Move in with me, let me help you change-” he froze, his very magic trembling at the soft press of Alec’s lips against his. His eyes fluttered shut, one tear escaping down his cheeks, then another, then another.
“Yes,” Alec breathed the word against Magnus’ lips, reaching out to hold onto the back of his neck, pulling him into another kiss, then another, reaching up to brush the tears away from Magnus’ cheeks. Neither of them cared that there were in full view of anyone and everyone else - they didn’t matter. “Yes, Magnus, anything.”
Magnus choked out a wet laugh, tears coming in earnest as he pressed their foreheads together, keeping Alec as close as he could. “When, when you told me you didn’t want Consul, I was so afraid that I’d never get a chance to apologize as well, and…” he swallowed.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Alec said, his voice low and vehement. “It was my mistake and-” he blinked when Magnus’ finger was pressed against his lips.
“We both made mistakes, Alexander, and I need you to understand that,” Magnus said, taking another shuddering, deep breath. “I overreacted. And I should not have treated you the way I did at the Institute. That was horribly cruel of me, and I am very, very sorry for it.”
Alec tugged Magnus’ finger away and pulled him into another kiss, this one hard and insistent. “You’re forgiven,” he breathed against Magnus’ lips. “I love you-” And oh the joy that shot through him at being able to say those words again. “-and we’re here. Together. That’s all that matters to me.”
Magnus tugged Alec in for another kiss, another tear sneaking down his cheek. “I love you too, Alexander. So much.”
Of course it was at that precise moment that Catarina came out of the Office of the Consul, clearly looking for Magnus. Alec looked up at her and saw her stop short at the sight of the two of them and turned his face, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ palm. “Find me later?” he asked softly.
Magnus looked back at Catarina and raised his eyebrows, but didn’t move away from Alexander. “I take it we found the Mirror?”
Catarina nodded, her lips twitching. “Entirely by accident, but yes. The others are ready and waiting by Lake Lynn.”
Magnus turned back to Alec, who was watching with barely disguised curiosity and grinned, pulling him in for a kiss. “Come with me,” he breathed.
Alec’s breath caught as Magnus tugged him to his feet and summoned a portal for all three of them. Magnus’ fingers tangling with his, the familiar cool touch of his rings had his heart jumping, and he tightened the hold on his hand, not willing to let go for anything. “Always,” he managed.
Magnus ignored the snort from Catarina and urged them both through the portal, stepping out on the shores of Lake Lynn where Ragnor was waiting, the Mortal Cup and Soul Sword in his hands. He let out a breath at the sight of the artifacts and decided to also ignore the knowing look from Ragnor at Alexander standing beside him. “We’re ready?”
“Just waiting on me, darlings,” Oberon sang, stepping through another portal. “Forgive me, I lost myself categorizing the atrocious excuse for a library the Nephilim have, and if one more of those Not-So-Silent Brothers gives me another baleful look-”
Alec snorted and ignored the way all four warlocks turned to look at him. He held up his hand, refusing to let go of Magnus with the other. “Don’t mind me, I’m just amused at the description.”
Oberon raised both of his eyebrows at the sight of the hand-holding going on and pointed at Magnus. “We’re going to be talking about that later. But in the meantime, I digress. After an exhaustive amount of research, all you should need to do is step into the lake with the Instruments, and the Wish shall be granted.”
Magnus let out a low breath and nodded, lifting Alexander’s hand to his lips to kiss before releasing it and turning to Ragnor. He took the Cup and Sword into his hands and magic’d off his shoes, turning to the crystal clear lake beside them.
Alec’s heart leapt into his throat. “Wait!” He took a step towards Magnus, his hand outstretched, his heart pounding too hard at the sight. The entire group had gone tense, all of them staring at him, but, but if Oberon hadn’t… if it hadn’t been in the writings…
Magnus looked over his shoulder at Alexander and raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”
“It has to be a nephilim,” Alec blurted, watching him. “I, if it’s not, it’ll, the angelic power will…” he trailed off, not willing to commit the words to the air around him.
Magnus’ grin widened as he lifted a hand and sliced open his palm with magic, letting it drip into the cup. “Oh, is that all?”
The surge of panic that shot through him as Magnus stepped into the lake without a care at all choked him, and Alec shouted Magnus’ name when blinding white light exploded around him. But then the air went heavy and the light faded and Alec stared at the sight of a being with wings that matched his own. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head, his heart pounding too fast. It’d worked. How, how had it…
Magnus turned his attention to the being of immense power in front of him and let the glamour on his eyes fall as he looked up at the angel Raziel, all three Mortal Instruments at his command. “I summon you here, Raziel, to fulfill that which you once promised the race you created. A single Wish, for whatever purpose dictated.”
Raziel hummed and studied the group in front of him. “It was a wish to be granted to more than a Nephilim, as you well know, nephew.”
Alec lifted his head in shock, staring at Magnus’ back. Nephew?
Magnus’ lips twitched. “It may have been your intention, Uncle, but it is not what your requirements necessitated. So I stand here to claim that which you have offered.” He lifted his chin and then gestured to the other Mortal Instruments.
Raziel tilted his head and studied the warlock in front of him. “How did you come to be here today, warlock?”
Alec felt a shiver run down his spine. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and if Magnus being a warlock meant that Raziel could refuse the Wish… He lifted his head and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of both Magnus and Raziel.
“In your name, Raziel, I offer you the truth,” Alec started, meeting his eyes from where he remained on his knees. “The Clave, fearing a united Downworld, declared genocidal war, death to all members of the downworld, without limit or compunction. Fearing the death of thousands, the downworld united under Magnus Bane, High Warlock of the Downworld,” he gestured to Magnus. “And stormed Alicante to stop the massacre. They were joined by…” He paused, his stomach twisting. “Eight Institutes in terms of manpower, and twenty-nine others in voice and support.”
Alec paused, but in the silence, he forced himself to continue. “Nine were lost, and overpowered by those who sought to perform genocide in your name, Raziel.” The reminder was ash in his mouth, even though he knew, he knew some of them were fighting still, and that Aline had led multiple task forces to take back their Institutes.
Frowning, Raziel turned his attention back to Magnus. “What is it that you would Wish of me, having stormed and conquered the sacred city of my charges?”
Magnus let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and tilted his chin up again. “I wish, angel Raziel, for you to destroy the Mortal Instruments so they can never be used in violence against the Downworld again, and for you to punish the Nephilim who sought the downworld’s destruction in this way.”
Raziel’s lips curled. “I cannot grant all of that.”
Magnus tensed, staring at the angel. “Why not?”
“At peace, Magnus Bane, High Warlock of the Downworld,” Raziel said, holding up his hand. “The Instruments themselves may be removed from this plane, but their abilities cannot. The threat the Shadowhunters have been charged with protecting this world against is very real, as all here know.”
Magnus did know, and hearing the problem presented so frankly had his hands tightening around the Cup and Sword. “Then what might you suggest?”
“Alexander Gideon Lightwood.”
Alec’s head snapped up at the mention of his name by the angel and he felt the faint tug of power urging him to his feet and he followed it. “I am at your command, my lord Raziel.”
Raziel hummed. “So you are, as Jonathan Shadowhunter was before you.” He turned to Magnus and paused. “You trust this shadowhunter? As one of your Generals?”
“As the other half of my heart and soul, there is none I trust above him,” Magnus said, meeting Raziel’s eyes.
“Very well. Hand me the Cup and Sword and their forms shall be gone from this realm,” Raziel ordered, holding out his hand.
Magnus glanced at where Alec was standing to his left, but he offered the two items in his hands to Raziel, watching the angel take them.
Raziel stopped in front of the boy and studied him. “You have upheld my Covenant as few would have the strength of character to do, Alexander Lightwood. There is Nephilim blood on your blade and your hands, but no regret in your heart, for truth burns through every inch of you.”
Alec held himself still, unwilling to interrupt whatever Raziel was about to do.
Raziel paused. “The Mortal Instruments were the second form of a gift I bestowed upon Jonathan Shadowhunter. He refused the first.”
Alec’s eyes widened and he frowned, because he’d never heard that Jonathan Shadowhunter had refused Raziel’s gifts.
“With my Sword, I bestow on thee, the Right of Truth, and the Light of Judgment,” Raziel paused and lifted the sword before plunging it into Alexander Lightwood’s chest as it disappeared in a flash of light. “With my Cup, I bestow on thee, the Gift of Inheritance, I grant the Knowledge of Blood, and I charge my Covenant.” He moved and pressed the Cup into the Shadowhunter’s heart, watching as it disappeared.
Raziel stepped back, his feet dipping into the water, before he reached out and pressed a single finger to Alexander Lightwood’s forehead. “With my Mirror, I bestow on thee, the Gift of Sight Beyond Sight, the Image of Raziel, and last but not least, the Power to Act as my Will in this Realm and all others.”
Magnus’ eyes widened as Lake Lynn was abruptly gone and there was nothing but slowly growing forest behind the angel where he was standing with Alexander. Alexander who was lit with a white light so bright his eyes burned, but he would not look away.
Alec nearly stumbled when Raziel pulled his finger away, his chest heaving, his wings quivering behind him. He could feel and hear so much and it felt like all of his runes had been dialed up to twenty and trying to focus felt impossible.
“Now comes the moment for you to understand why Jonathan Shadowhunter refused this gift, because there is a price to this,” Raziel said. “To carry them means that you carry the line of the Nephilim. You will carry them until you find another to pass them to - and it is only with my blessing that you can do so.”
Alec blinked and tried to focus on Raziel, and what he was saying, because the implication of that, of what he would now be able to do, and what the price was. He heard Magnus step closer and was glad when Magnus’ hand gripped his, holding on as tight as he dared. “What, what is the price?”
Raziel stared at Alexander, but if Magnus didn’t know any better, he would have thought the angel was… smiling?
“Invulnerable immortality,” Raziel said. “You will not be able to die until you have passed your gifts on to another.”
Alec tensed and froze and let out a shuddering breath, dropping his eyes down from Raziel, to look at the ground beneath him. The words were swirling in his brain, on a non-stop cycle. Immortal. Invulnerable.
“You see now, why Jonathan Shadowhunter refused to house these gifts,” Raziel said.
Alec turned to look at Magnus, at the mix of fear, awe, and shock on his face and forced himself upright, breathing slow as he looked at Raziel once again. “I do,” he agreed. “But I am not going to refuse them.” He swallowed, licking his lips. “However, I am…” he tightened his hands against his thighs and breathed, ordering himself to think. “I am going to request an amendment to your decree.”
Raziel paused. “Oh?”
“I understand that it will take me centuries to understand the power and weight of these gifts,” Alec started. “And while I am confident that my conviction to the mission and your covenant will not waver…”
“Ah. You wish for a safeguard,” Raziel said, studying him. “Strange. Jonathan Shadowhunter did not think to ask for one, only said he was not worthy.”
Alec could feel his fingertips burning where they were pressed into his jeans. “I, I do not believe myself worthy either,” he started, straightening up as much as he could. “However, I have learned, there is no justice in this world, not unless we make it ourselves, and these gifts would, would allow me to seek that justice for those who deserve it.”
Alec paused and wiped his hands and forced himself to focus, to find the words he needed. “But I am half-human, and I am not immune to the influences of the world. I would ask that these four, here, if driven to the necessary lengths, be given the means to kill me. Just…” his voice caught. “Just in case.”
Magnus froze when Raziel’s gaze turned to him and pinned him place before moving to the others - Ragnor, Catarina, and Oberon, all of them frozen under the weight of his gaze.
Raziel shook his head. “Only two of the four have the power necessary. I will give it to them.”
Magnus felt the jolt of power go through he and Oberon faster than a lightning strike, the both of them crashing to their knees under the weight of it as they struggled to breathe and Raziel at last stepped back from Alec. “Wait, the, the other…” he coughed, trying to draw in more air.
Raziel turned back to Alec. “I shall offer you a final gift.” With a twist of his fingers, the forest growing behind him in place of Lake Lynn offered up a staff. He held it out. “All my children shall receive the message of my displeasure at the Nephilim blood spilt in the name of genocide, and my order going forward. Failure to follow the world you will lead them into, Alexander Lightwood, shall result in their immediate loss of runes and Sight.”
Alec wrapped his fingers around the staff and watched it disappear in a flash, his fingers spasming around air.
“It shall appear when you have need. To channel your power. To demand truth when you require it. To remove runes should it be necessary. And to dispense justice, should you see fit,” Raziel said, stepping back into the forest. “Guide the Nephilim well, Alexander Lightwood.”
Alec bowed his head, breathing hard, as Raziel disappeared in a flash of light. His hands were shaking and he turned to look at Magnus, who was barely managing to climb to his feet. His mouth was dry, and he could feel the power thrumming through him now, almost a livewire in his veins.
“Well,” Oberon said, his voice hoarse. “As enlightening as that was, next time someone warn me before I’m about to be touched by an angel.” He scowled and adjusted the charms on his horns. “I suppose I must go back to my dusty tomes now?”
Magnus glanced over at Oberon. “Oh don’t pretend you don’t love them, scowling Silent Brothers or not.”
Oberon blew Magnus a kiss before turning to look at Alec Lightwood, who was almost vibrating with contained power. He let out a huff. “Despite your forbearance, Alec Lightwood, I find myself eager to see the Nephilim under your guiding hand.”
Alec swallowed hard. “Thank you.” He barely managed nods to Catarina and Ragnor before they left as well, leaving him alone with Magnus.
Magnus smiled faintly. “You know you didn’t need that contingency.”
Alec shook his head. “We couldn’t risk it, Magnus, not after Valentine, not after everything else that we’ve gone through, and I wasn’t about to put the downworld at risk again after-”
“I know,” Magnus said, pressing his finger to Alec’s lips, his breath shuddering out of him. “I know, and I love you for it. For thinking of us, of the future, not just the present.”
“I love you too,” Alec breathed back before he hesitated. “I, uh. Know this changes things. I don’t want you to feel obligated, or-”
“Alexander,” Magnus interrupted again and ignored the irritated look on his shadowhunter, grinning at him. “I’m going to kiss you, then take you home. The two of us are going to sleep for at least ten hours, then I am going to reacquaint myself with how good you look spread out on my sheets. Everything else? Can wait until after.”
Alec let out a shaky breath and gave Magnus a small smile. “That sounds like a great plan.” He paused and relaxed, grinning. “Especially the sleeping part.” He laughed when Magnus gave him a swat and swayed into his space again.
“Come here you,” Magnus ordered, wrapping his arms around Alexander’s shoulders, tugging him into a kiss. When Alexander’s wings echoed the movement, wrapping around the both of them, Magnus broke the kiss to whisper against Alec’s lips. “Take me flying sometime?”
“Any time you want,” Alec promised, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Alexander.” Magnus flicked his fingers, summoning a portal for them. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Alec hummed his agreement as he followed Magnus through the portal and into the comforting warmth of the loft. “We do,” he agreed.
Magnus yawned. “Sleep first.” He stripped off both their clothes with another lazy curl of magic, tugging Alec toward the bed. He tugged Alec in and sighed happily when Alexander pulled him in close and tucked them under the sheets. He’d missed this, more than he ever wanted to admit.
“Sleep well, Magnus,” Alec whispered.
Magnus let out a content hum, pressing in closer. “I always do, in your arms.” And miracle of miracles, he could feel the reaction of the magic in Alec to that soft compliment, his magic bashful and proud all at once.
They’d have to explore that more at a later date.
Preferably tomorrow.
“Sleep,” Alec coaxed.
Magnus grumbled against Alec’s shoulder, but the soothing stroke of Alec’s hand up and down his back was enough to have the last of the tension drifting out of him. Sleep sounded perfect.