Summary: What if Clary never escaped Valentine? What if he took her back to Idris before she could escape the boat at the end of City of Ashes? In this story it is a year after City of Ashes but Valentine kid napped Clary. Now, with Clary having no memory of her life before, Valentine tainting her, her big brother Jonathon terrorizing her, and having to learn all of her shadow hunter training, what will happen when she is confronted by people from a past she doesn't even remember?

Okay guys, this is my first story, I really hope you like it :) I love the Mortal Instruments and will probably mostly write about them. I'm going to assume that, if you're reading this story, you have also read the actually series and know all of the terms in my story such as "seraph blade" and "stele". And lastly I must tell everyone that I do not own the Mortal Instruments or any of their characters, places, or references, though this plot is mine. :)

FORGET ME NOT

"Clarissa, faster!" Valentine demanded, watching me with a predator like intensity. Angrily, I huffed and made my freckled legs move even quicker than they already were. I turned the corner of the training track and my eyes locked on the spot I knew meant trouble. After I pass that spot, the knives will be thrown, venom spat, and demons let loose.

Clenching my hand around my seraph blade, I kicked into high gear and sprinted across the spot. Almost immediately I heard the faint whistle of knives flying at me through the air and of the now familiar slither along the ground that I'd come to associate with demons.

When the whistling came closer I ducked, falling into a somer-sault, rolling legs over head across the ground to dodge the ever-sharp blades.

I stopped rolling a crouched before the valuable weapons. I picked them up and tucked the into my sheath, being careful not to puncture myself, I did not want to go down that road again.

I straightened up but didn't continue running. The excited cackle from the demons was already close, might as well stand my ground and fight. Turning, the pungent smell of rotting flesh filled my senses. I would never get used to that, no matter how many times I fought these things.

Their eyes (or what I guessed were their eyes) brightened considerable when they caught sight of me. They came forward faster, their slightly green complexion and gray eyes coming into sharper focus with the help of one of the many runes that were now sprinkled across my body.

Quickly, I slid a knife out of my sheath and threw it with outstanding accuracy, moving with unbelievable speed. The sharp blade flew through the air and stuck into the chest of the monster with a resounding thud, black ichor spurting out from around the knife.

The second one paid no attention to his fallen comrade, instead kept his eyes on me, greedily holding his clawed hands out, a malicious smile spreading across his face. "Giiirrrrrrrl." It hissed.

Disgusted, I pulled out my seraph blade and screamed it's name, watching as it grew and lit up. Running forward, I kept my eyes pinned on the monster and, when I was close enough, swung weapon forward, slicing cleanly through it neck.

It fell on the floor, a look of faint surprise on its dead face. I sighed in relief, the training was over for the day. I put my weapon back and watched with distant curiosity as the demons vanished back to their home dimension as I'd watched a hundred before do.

When they were gone I ran a hand through my hair but winced. I looked down at my arm and noticed for the first time the deep and rather ugly looking gashes running across it. Scowling, I took out my stele and drew an iratze just below the injury, relishing in the comforting, though sometimes painful, burn that meant it was healing me.

"Clarissa!" Valentines ever present voice sounded from just outside the track. Slowly, I made my way toward my father.

My father, or Valentine as I prefer to call him, was a cruel man. He had hair so fine and so light it almost looked white. His skin was fairly pale but he was no where near scrawny. He was tall and muscled, looking like the regular shadow hunter. But his eyes, they were horrible. A dark color, black really. They stared at me now with no love, just determination and cool calculation.

"Yes?" I said, baring my teeth. My father and I had never seen eye to eye for as long as I could remember . . . which, truthfully, wasn't very long.

I don't remember anything before the beginning of this year. Valentine told me it had been a training accident where I had lost my memory. So I had forgotten the first fifteen years of my life and all the training I did before that but, lucky for me, I'm a natural shadow hunter (or so says Valentine) and I've been improving rapidly. I tried asking my father why I couldn't just get a remembrance rune and he only told me that it would be best just to let this kind of this run itself out.

So I've been stuck in Idris (Shadow hunters home country) for the past year with nothing to do but study and train and with hardly anyone to talk to.

You see, Valentine is the leader of this group called The Circle. It's a powerful group that plans to take over the Clave (Shadow Hunters government), and get rid of downworlders. Apparently, only a few people are in it because a few years ago the circle was almost destroyed when my mother and her friend Lucian rounded together a bunch of downworlders and fought the members in the circle. I have no idea what happened to my mother or Lucian but I'm fiercely proud of them. I might have been raised by Valentine but I can still tell right from wrong and he is definently wrong.

Valentine was considering me now with those cold eyes of his, his already thin lips pursed. "I don't like your tone, Clarissa." He said, moving lightening fast to grab a hold of my arm, right where it had just healed, and squeezing mercilessly. I gasped in pain and grabbed hold of his fingers, trying to pry him off.

Valentine leaned in closely to my face, jaw clenched tightly though his voice was soft, deadly. "You look exactly like your mother, Clarissa." He said, brushing a stray strand of my bright red hair away from my face. "She was just as stubborn as you as well." He cocked his head to the side. "But, darling daughter, you don't want to be like your mother."

Emerald green eyes narrowed, I looked up at him without fear, only disgust and anger. "Why not?"

"Because your mother is dead!" Valentine shouted, throwing me roughly onto the ground. "I killed her! And don't even think for a second I wouldn't do the to you!" With that he regained his cold composure and stood. "I expect better from you, Clarissa." He turned, and walked away toward the manner house.

I snarled angrily, baring my teeth I looked down at my arm and saw the distinct red marks that would no doubt become a bruise. I heard a dark chuckle from behind me and my blood instantly ran cold.

Turning, I came face to face with my brother, Jonathon.

Jonathon was the spitting image of Valentine with his pale hair and black eyes. The had matching personalities too, the only difference was the Jonathon actually had demon blood running through his monstrous veins.

When out mother was pregnant with Jonathon, Valentine had a plan to make his son the best shadow hunter imaginable and started adding demon blood to her food without her realizing so when Jonathon was born, he actually was half demon, still is in fact.

But Valentine wasn't satisfied. Jonathon was too aggressive, too cruel. My mother was hopelessly depressed with the demon child she had given birth to and Valentine, ever caring as he was, decided to mix angel's blood with her food instead, thinking the depression was from consuming anything with demon essence. Little did he know, my mother was pregnant with me at that time. So, two years after Jonathon was born, my mother gave birth to me, her "angel child".

Jonathon smirked at me, rolling his eyes. He knew as much, if not more, than I did about our unusual powers and often resented me, as I resent him, for being complete opposites. "It hurts, doesn't it Angel?"

"Not as much as your going to when Valentine finds out you went into town today and terrorized a few innocent shadow hunters." I said coldly.

Jonathon's smirk melted into a scowl. He regarded me with dislike, his arm crossed over his chest.

I grinned wickedly. "You're not the only one with special abilities Jonathon."

His eyes narrowed menacingly, flashing as they always did when he was annoyed. "I'm the only one with good abilities." He retorted.

I giggled, my laugh sounding like sweet, chiming bells. This seemed to anger him more. "Don't you know Jonathon?" I paused. "Good always triumphs over evil."

Man, that took forever to write but it's such a short thing :P I promise the chapters will get longer at the story goes on! Okay so tell me what you thought of my first fan fic! Were the characters okay? I felt like Clary was a little out of character but I don't know, I just want to know what you thought! Come one, review! It'll make me update faster! (Constructive criticism welcome, jerks not :) )