Epilogue


"I swear to the Angel Clary," Magnus bellowed, exiting the washroom in a purple sparkly robe. His gold towel was wrapped around his head. He was dangling a pink bra with a small ribbon on his right finger. "If I find another one of your bras on the washroom floor, I'm not feeding your coffee addiction anymore." He stated and flung the bra across the room, landing on Clary's book.

"You're a sorcerer Magnus," she laughed, throwing the bra to the side. Clary was sitting on Magnus's navy blue couch with a cup of coffee and a novel. She was wearing a simple black tank top and pajama pants. Her hair was twisted in a messy bun. She took a sip of her coffee. "You can't swear to the Angel, therefore your promises and threats are invalid." She flipped the page.

"Really?" Magnus challenged. Clary brought the cup to her lips and to her surprise, it disappeared.

"Hey!" She screeched, staring at her empty hand. Magnus's expression radiated satisfaction.

"Keep your feminine undergarments in the room I so kindly lent you," he smiled and returned to the washroom. Clary glanced at the second door down the hall where her mother slept.

Nearly a month has gone by since the incident at Renwick. With each passing day, the Clave has become more chaotic. Shadowhunters have been pouring into New York, investigating the Institute and immediate area.

The first week consisted of Clary's constant interrogation. The Clave's questions revolved around the same topic. Did you know about your father? Did he ever communicate with you before? How close were you two? She was sick of it, how close did they expect her to be to the man who killed her grandparents?

The Clave was furious with her. She couldn't argue seeing as she did have the Cup and didn't tell them about Valentine. Fortunately for her, she escaped any real punishment. Magnus ordered Clary to play the innocent teenager for the sake of everyone. If they knew she shared her father's hatred for the Clave, it would just be another link between them. The relation between her and Jace has also come into question.

Clary flinched at the thought of him. During her interrogations, he was always present at the back of the room. He would input comments in her favor but they never spoke. Clary felt grateful he didn't hate her but she knew things weren't cheery. She has no idea what to say to him, 'hey there, I know you think I'm your sister and all but we aren't so do you want to get a cup of coffee?'

A buzzing noise pulled her from her thoughts. She reached over to her right and picked up the replacement phone Magnus gave her. It was nothing special, a cheap, simple phone to make calls.

"Hello?" She greeted hesitantly. Caller ID wasn't apart of the plan either.

"Hey," a quiet voice replied. Her body relaxed. It was Simon. "How you holding up?"

"Alright," she answered restlessly and flipped herself over on the couch, lying on her belly. "Magnus just took away my coffee because I left my stuff around the house." Simon let out an exaggerated gasp.

"NO! Not the coffee! How will she ever survive without the bitter goodness that fills the dark void?" Clary rolled her eyes.

"Exactly so can you be the kind Simon I know you are and bring me some?" She asked, picking at her last good nail. Training left them permanently chipped and dry. She marveled at how Isabelle managed to keep them so proper.

"How about I do you one better and take you to Java just like old times. I'll buy you a whole bag of your favorite coffee. We can watch humans make a fool out of themselves reading poetry," Simon proposed kindly. "What do you say Fray?" Clary hesitated.

"Clary?" He repeated, afraid the call disconnected.

"Yeah sorry," she finally responded and bit her lip. "Sure, just like old times," she echoed but her thoughts didn't agree. To Clary, nothing was the same.


"You know, Magnus's place isn't half bad," Simon commented as he opened the door to the café. Clary entered and inhaled deeply. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked biscuits filled her senses. It felt like an anti-depressant.

"I never said it was bad, I just said I would rather be at your place," Clary argued as they navigated their way to the seats. She slid into a booth with Simon by her side.

"It sucks the Clave won't let you stay where you want," he said.

"Trust me, I know," she groaned. "You think that's bad? They've got Magnus telling them exactly what I'm doing. I had to sign a damn contract stating I wouldn't keep any information hidden from them." She shook her head in exasperation. "I might as well have been the one who caused the uprising. I honestly feel like a criminal."

"You kind of are," Simon admitted and Clary smacked his arm. "Hey!" He screeched and rubbed his forearm. "I meant in their mind with the Cup and everything."

"I know," she muttered, waving him off. They sat there in silence for a few moments.

"I just realized how long it's been since we came here," Simon observed. Clary nodded. She scanned the room around her. The layout was the same. The stage was still decorated with the same lights and colorful posters, mostly torn. The menu screen behind the cashiers continued to flash expect for the sandwiches section. It wasn't lit up due to a faulty technical issue the café owner refused to fix. The baristas were rushing around, calling out orders: decaf, extra cream, soy-free. Clary couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" Simon asked, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. She shook her head.

"Nothing," she replied. She mentally mused at how everything was untouched here while everything in her life was flipped. Simon continued to watch her skeptically.

"What have you been doing the past week? Any band meetings?" She asked with exaggerated curiosity.

"We had one but I wouldn't really call it productive…More just everyone complaining how I've been AWOL a lot lately." he shrugged.

"Can't really tell them you were busy guarding a sacred item from a different world," Clary said and they both laughed. Clary could tell their laughter was tense, almost forced. It seemed like the shadowhunter world was an awkward topic again.

"By the time they let it go, Eric and Matt had to leave so we all left without scheduling another meeting. I'm sure you had a much more exciting week," he assumed and Clary grinned.

"I made a special bond with Magnus's cat, if that counts as exciting," she told him. Simon chuckled.

"Maybe I can bring my cat over and we can have a play date," he suggested and Clary smiled. It nearly felt normal, laughing and enjoying simple things. She deeply wished the voice in the back of her head would stop reminding of all her problems. She wanted to scream, stop.

"Magnus have any news?" Simon wondered. Clary already knew he would ask about news. She asked Magnus the same question daily.

"Nothing new," Clary responded with a sigh. "All Magnus knows is that he isn't dead but the weak signal means he isn't exactly healthy either. He's still tracking and checking every day but it seems like he's getting farther." Simon shook his head.

"Where can he be? He should've came back by now," he mumbled, concerned. Clary rubbed her temple.

"I have no idea what he's thinking right now. How far could he have gotten from Renwick's with his wounds?" Clary covered her face with her hands, leaning on her elbows. She was exhausted. "The only thing keeping me sane is that he isn't dead."

"I'm sure he knows what he's doing," Simon reassured her. He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. Clary gave him a small smile. "Luke will come back when he's ready."

"I can't help but wonder, would he be here now if I hadn't left him with-," Clary started. Simon cut her off.

"Stop, you can't think like that. You can't blame yourself, you'll go crazy. What happened is done and Luke is alive. That's all that mattera." She knew he was right but she couldn't kill the thoughts. The voice kept whispering, alive but dying. He's alive but dying Clary.

"I'll get the coffee," she offered, suddenly feeling confined. She slid out of the booth and squeezed through a group of teenagers blocking the cashier. She took her place in line behind two men. Clary glanced at the menu subconsciously. She already knew her order. Her eyes shifted to the glass pane in front of her. It held biscuits, cakes and brownies. She bit her lip, trying to decide whether she wanted the double fudge giant cookie or the cheese filled croissant.

"My wife has been going crazy for the past two days," Clary heard the man in front of her complain. "I haven't been home with the baby since all this Valentine business. I just got back from London and promised her I'd help and what happens? I get forced to come here." Clary looked up in surprise.

She now noticed the men in front of her and how different they looked. The one speaking was significantly taller than the other. She estimated he was around 6 foot 4. He was of medium built with long dark brown hair lined with silver. It was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. He had sharp, angular features with high cheekbones and a straight jaw. His skin was pale. Clary concluded that he would've been extremely intimidating if it weren't for his soft hazel eyes and big smile.

The other man was a complete contrast. He was only a few inches taller than Clary with short red messy hair. His rippling muscles protruded from the skin tight long sleeved shirt. Clary couldn't see his face but that was irrelevant. What really mattered to her was their skin. She didn't blame herself for not noticing sooner. They were both covered in clothing from head to toe. Now that she knew what to look for; she could see runes inked along the exposed part of the tall man's neck.

"I know what you mean. Why couldn't they order the shadowhunters nearby to come help out?" The red head replied with a gruff voice. He raked his hand through his hair. "I get we can portal and everything but really? Call every shadowhunter all the way in Idris? Most of us are on vacation there." The tall man shook his head.

"I agree but I'm assuming they want the shadowhunters who were the farthest away from the scene," he explained, leaning against the counter. "Rumor has it; the whole Institute knew all about Valentine and didn't warn anyone." He shook his head in disbelief. "Madeline was right, he wasn't gone." Clary's eyes gleamed. Calm down Clary, she ordered herself. That name is extremely common, you know that. What are the chances they are talking about the exact Madeline you're looking for?

"Well she went to school with him, didn't she? She went to school with the whole damn Circle. Didn't the Clave want her here before everyone else?" The red head asked him. Don't get excited, she warned herself. Bellefleur…that's what you're looking for.

"Yeah but you know Madeline, she hates anything to do with Valentine. She gave the Clave a good excuse to stay away." Bellefleur, Bellefleur, Bellefleur.

"Don't take this offensively Nate, I know she's your sister and all but if Jocelyn really is her friend then why isn't she here? I mean, with Jocelyn in a coma and all." The red haired wondered and Nate moved forward in the line, the barista ready to take his order.

"She doesn't know, she's waiting for my letter but the Clave blocked fire messaging. That's the only type of post you can send to the Bellefleur estate," Nate explained then turned to the barista. "Small coffee please."

By the time the barista could ask how he took it, Clary already raced out of line back to Simon. He looked up from his phone.

"Where are the drinks?" He asked in surprise, looking at her hands. Clary didn't sit down. "You okay?" He was surprised at how exhilarated and wild her eyes looked. A surge of energy seemed to consume her body.

"Madeline," she whispered and his eyes widened.

"What? Is she here?" He straightened his back and frantically glanced behind him. Clary pulled him down by his shoulders.

"No but those two guys at the front, waiting for their orders, know her," she further explained, nodding towards the men who were being handed their cups.

"How do you know?"

"I overheard them talk about her; they said her full name and everything. They even mentioned my mom. The tall one is her brother," Clary informed him. Glancing behind her shoulder at Nate, Clary was surprised she hadn't caught on faster. His features mirrored those of his sister. Jocelyn once showed Clary a picture of her and Madeline at a spring gala. Both Nate and Madeline shared the hazel eyes, pale complexion and angular, defined features.

"Did they say where she is?" Simon demanded, his eyes trained on Nate who was taking a seat. Clary grinned, excitement radiating from her.

"Yup!" She exclaimed. "She's in Idris at the Bellefleur estate." Simon's mirrored excitement faltered and he slumped back.

"How the hell are we going to get to Idris?" He inquired. Clary nearly lost hope before recalling the red head's words, we can portal and everything.

"Magnus must have opened a portal for the Clave. All we need to do is get Magnus's help to find it and use it."

"They are never going to let you go to Idris Clary," Simon reasoned with her. She knew he was right, they would go insane if she left. They would never let her go to Idris; she has never even been there. If they found out, Magnus and her would both be imprisoned. It would cause a handful of issues no one needs at a time like this.

"Then the solution is simple," Clary revealed, a little shaky. She took a deep breath, surprised she was actually contemplating this. "We don't tell them."


It was slowly inching towards sunset in New York; the temperature cooling down. Jace dug his hands deeper into his pockets as he stood, waiting. He kicked a few stones nearby and watched them bounce away. He had to admit he didn't share the same appeal for the summer as other New Yorkers did. He didn't find pleasure in the blazing sun pressing against his back. The cold breeze of winter seemed to oddly call him.

Jace already guessed why he felt this way. He predicted it has something to do with his childhood. He could vividly remember his summers. His father was always out on business or for personal reasons. His absence was profound at the manor. It left Jace to his own devices. Sometimes, he enjoyed being left alone. It gave him the chance to read the forbidden books and play with his father's weapons. Jace knew that he would rather have his father home. That's exactly what the winters brought him. His father's business trips were cut short and the downpour of snow left him no choice but to stay home. Jace's favorite memories were from those days. Winter meant comfort, shelter and family.

He pulled his leather jacket closer together. He was standing in the middle of a sidewalk that led to a house, debating whether or not he should knock. He didn't know how long he's been standing there. All week he wanted to come here and knock on the door. When he woke up it tugged at his mind and when he went to sleep his legs wanted him to get up. It wasn't until today that he finally gave in.

"Jace?" A voice called from behind. His head snapped up. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Jace's body felt rigid with nervousness. He hadn't expected her to be outside.

"Oh hey," Jace replied casually as he turned around.

Clary pushed the short gate open and entered Magnus's front yard. Her eyebrows knit in confusion. What was Jace doing here? She let go of the gate and it shut with a clang behind her. She felt slightly out of breath from running from the café. She needed to run errands as soon as possible. Now with Jace in front of her, all memory of the café seemed to dissolve from her mind.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. He didn't answer for a moment. Why was he here? With no answer, he fell back to old tactics. He smirked.

"Not the question I expected to hear after all this time," he pretended to be hurt.

"It hasn't been that long Jace, I saw you at the Institute on Monday," Clary replied, stepping closer. They were two meters apart now. Jace said nothing and Clary shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you want to come in?" She asked hesitantly and bit her lip, not sure what answer she wanted. She knew a part of her wanted him to stay. She couldn't help but admit she missed him.

"Sure," Jace decided and Clary walked to Magnus's door. She pulled out a set of keys and pressed the red one into the lock. After a slight jiggle of the knob, the door opened and she slipped through, Jace behind her.

"I thought you might be on Clave business," she stated, throwing her keys on the island in the kitchen. She stood on the other side of Jace and leaned against it.

"Hardly. The Clave aren't too happy with me," he admitted with an air of annoyance. "If I wasn't a minor, they would've kicked me out of the Institute already. They didn't appreciate me lying about who's staying at the institute and not telling them about Valentine." He shrugged.

"They found out about the fire message?" Clary demanded in surprise.

"I wasn't surprised, I knew they would find out eventually," Jace told her, playing with the butter knife on the counter.

"If you knew they were going to find out then why did you do it?" Clary asked him, confused and guilty. Jace leaned against the counter, his back to her. He twirled the knife in his hand absently. No reply. Clary spoke again, "well as long as they are getting closer to Valentine, it doesn't matter how many questions I need to answer."

"Oh yeah, they catch him and don't even give him a fair trail. They won't hear what he has to say," Jace expressed, continuing to face away from her. Clary scoffed in shock and disbelief

"Hear what he has to say? I think the trail of bodies and mass destruction says enough Actions speak louder than words Jace," Clary snapped. Jace turned to look at her, his voice became soft.

"He's our father Clary, if you just heard him out-," he argued, acting like he was consoling an unreasonable child. She cut him off.

"He's not our father Jace and I'm not going to 'hear out' the man who ruined my family," Clary spoke in a cold voice; she began to boil with anger at his words.

"How do you know he's not our father?" Jace demanded, his voice increasing in volume. Clary breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down.

"Trust me Jace, I hate to say it but I'm sick of this. I wish he wasn't but he's my father, not yours. Your father is Michael Wayland."

"Trust you?" Jace laughed humorlessly. "I don't know if it ever occurred to you it's hard to trust someone who seems to constantly lie and keep secrets." Clary's mouth nearly dropped.

"Lie?" She echoed.

"You lied about who you are; your relation with Valentine and you had the Cup the whole time. How do I believe you now?" He slammed his hands against the counter, the knife beneath his left palm.

"Everything I ever said was to protect my mother! Everything," she defended herself. "You would do the same for your mother-," she cut herself short, her anger shattered away. There was a moment of silence before Jace's mouth changed into a broken half smile.

"My mother left me when I was born, she ran away and didn't look back," Jace whispered. At that moment, Clary realized that it wasn't that he didn't believe her, it was that he didn't want to believe her. Jace thought he lost everything, his parents and family as a child. He's been an orphan for years and here it is, a chance at a family again filled with parents and even a sibling. Clary felt awful for him and it seemed cruel to be trying to break his dream but it was worse to let him live with this lie.

"Listen to me Jace," Clary pleaded, leaning across the island. "I have a brother and you aren't him." He looked away.

"You don't know that for sure. Valentine didn't know about you until recently." Jace pointed out.

"You can't be him, I can't tell you why but you aren't him," Clary tried again and Jace slammed his fist against the counter.

"Stop with the secrets already, don't you see what they've done to me?" Jace spoke through gritted teeth, his voice almost cracking. Clary was nearly in tears at the sight of him. She stared at his eyes; they weren't soft like in the garden or arrogant like in the Pandemonium. They were dark and belonged to a shattered person. They pierced through her. Clary was about to console him when her eyes caught the glint of something on his fist.

"What is that?" She asked, pointing to his hand. Jace looked down and pulled his hand behind the counter. Clary stared at him.

"Did you meet with him?" She demanded, now recognizing the object as the Wayland ring. She knew Valentine had it last.

"No," he replied flatly. Things began clicking in Clary's mind.

"Is that what the vampire gave you?" Jace shook his head in exasperation.

"That stupid bloody mundane, I knew he couldn't keep his mouth shut," he muttered loudly.

"Don't talk about Simon like that," Clary retaliated and he went quiet. "Why did you take it? Are you going to meet with him? You aren't going to be apart of whatever he's planning right-?"

"No!" He shouted, looking at her in disbelief. "Of course not, I just took the damn ring and so what if I did meet with him?"

"You don't owe him anything Jace, I hope you know that. I want to tell you but I can't—"Jace turned away from her, fed up. He stormed out of the house before she could finish her sentence. Clary ran after him.

"Jace, wait!" She called, throwing open the front door to follow him. "Stop please!" She begged and he froze mid step in the middle of the pathway. Clary caught up to him and stood a few steps behind. He shifted his head slightly to the left so that he could hear her.

"You know just as well as I do that this doesn't make sense," Clary tried again. She felt herself breaking inside. She knew she was losing him and had no idea how to convince him.

"You're my sister Clary and Valentine is our father," Jace replied in such a solid, certain voice that Clary knew it was over. He didn't believe her. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back tears.

"If we are siblings then why do I feel this way for you?" She whispered. She felt like she was exposing her heart to him, revealing her dangerous feelings. She never thought she would admit it out loud but she knew this might be the last option.

"It's wrong," he replied.

"I'm falling for you," she sputtered, biting back tears. She clenched her fists tightly, trying to control herself.

"It's wrong," he repeated. Clary couldn't tell if he was still talking to her.

"I don't feel the same way," he told her. He didn't even glance at her, his eyes were trained forward. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. "You're my sister, that's it and you will never be more than that. I have to go." Clary squeezed her eyes shut, a tear escaping from the corner. She could vaguely hear his footsteps hitting the pavement, heading away from her. When she finally opened her eyes, the street was completely empty. She was alone.


I cannot believe that the story is finally over! I was so unsure about posting this, I still feel like there's more to edit but I knew if I didn't post it today, it wouldn't go up for a long time! I finally fully finished a story on here, so happy! It's been such an amazing journey writing this, meeting new people and learning so much. Last chapter's reviews were so amazing, thank you guys.

I want to thank all my readers and reviewers, you guys are amazing and I'm so glad you kept on reading. If you enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it, thank you a ton. I was always so nervous with the way this story would go but I think I'm happy with it. My writing has improved with all your comments and encouragement :) There are still a lot of loose ends and things that haven't happened yet in my version. If I DO continue with a sequel, I can say that my version will be different regarding Simon, Madeline, Valentine, Idris etc! I don't know if I'm going to continue just yet, depending on what you guys think. If you would like to see a sequel, please mention it in your review. If I get 10+ reviews saying yes, I will continue! :)

Please also let me know what you guys think of the Epilogue and the ending. Hope you guys enjoyed reading it!

Rose