My second one. Thank you for the likes and the comments for 'Crescendo'. I think I put more effort and more care into this one. All forms of criticism are once again welcome.

All characters belong to Cassandra Clare.

Silver eyes flashed angrily at her. Questioning her doubt of the force and strength of their love, the day she told him of her life, of her eternity, asking him to love someone else who could grow old with him.

'What does it matter if you are immortal? '

His voice strained, pleading with her, persuading her.

'Please, believe me when I say that my love for you will transcend time and space Tessa.'

His breath tickled her ear and sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. The resolution and certainty in his voice reverberated against her body, assuring her, soothing her nerves despite his failing health.

'Wait for me Tessa. I promise you, I will find you each and every single time. My heart will always find its way home. Back to you. Wherever the place may be, whichever era it may be. In whatever circumstance you may find yourself to be in, I will find you. '

His hands lightly touched her face, making soothing strokes across her cheek, gently wiping the unbidden tears that were cascading down her face, as if the gesture alone could prevent the pain that his inevitable passing would cause her. With half closed lids preparing to shut closed for one last time, he repeated the words he once said to her, the night that they announced their engagement.

I was born into this world to love you, and I will love you in the next life, and the one after that.

His touch wavered, his voice weakened, his luminous and expressive silver eyes, which she had always found beautiful, slowly glazed over as he said his last words:


Not goodbye, but: Mizpah…


She walked slowly, inhaling the river's scent, the night air whipping her long brown locks away from her face. The route had become familiar to her. The cracks on the pavement, the number of seconds it took to reach the next lamppost, the number of steps she had to take to reach the top, even the exact number of times that the bridge was repainted with its distinguishable red color, over the last century and a half. She could not remember though, how many times she had retraced their steps that fateful night, from the gates of the London Institute to make it here, on top of Blackfriars Bridge.

It was strangely quiet that night. Even for busy, old London, it was oddly tranquil. I suppose the blizzard that the Mundanes were talking about kept everyone home, she mused. As she felt the cold air against her skin, she looked up and gazed at the gray winter sky. At times like this, when she missed him the most, she would venture out of Idris, and into his favorite place, which over the course of the years, has become her favorite place as well. The bridge had become her sanctuary, the place where she could feel his presence the most. Although the bridge has changed dramatically over the years, the coaches replaced by cars, and the gas lamps replaced by electric lamp posts, the serenity that it brought her never changed. The peace and comfort that wrapped around her every time she stood on the bridge transcended the boundaries of technology, of space, of time.


She closed her eyes and sighed, her warm breath forming into steam in the chilly air. He never said 'Goodbye'. He firmly believed that he would be reborn into this world and that they would be with each other once more. Believed that she was the thread that attached him to this world and that he would therefore come back to her. And that maybe, just maybe, they would be granted more time to spend together until they were once more parted by his mortality. He promised her. He promised.

You promised me, Jem.

She had never wavered. She hoped. She prayed. She held his belief as her own, as strong and whole as the jade pendant that still hung about her neck. But sometimes, the pain, the longing, was too great, too unbearable that she considered severing the gold chain that tied her to this world. That maybe, she could at least catch a glimpse of him on the other side.

'But he promised to find me,' she thought resolutely. He said he would find her. And come back to her and be with her. For so many years, she wandered the streets of London, watching the crowd for a flash of silver, waiting for a gentle hand to grab her by the elbow, listening for the sweet sound of his violin, beckoning her to him. But she realized that she should not search. For it was he who promised to find her no matter the circumstance. That she should stay put and wait for him, lest they miss their chance at finding each other.

You promised to find me, Jem. And I will always be here. Waiting.

'Mizpah. Wo ai ni. I miss you.' She whispered in the languages that he loved the most and watched as her breath was blown away, part of her hoping that the wind will carry her message to him.

Finding the solace she needed, she turned to leave as a great wind blew across the surface of the river's water. The wind blew so strongly that she felt herself being dragged by the wind as the lampposts flickered and lost their light, plunging her into darkness. But as strongly and quickly as it came, the wind quickly died down, taking all the angry winter storm clouds with it, and Tessa found herself on the bridge once more, illuminated only by the moonlight.

And then, she heard it. The sound softer than the waves of the river, gentler than breeze that caressed their cheeks, sweeter than the sweetest honey. Notes so fine, so perfect. The music that haunted her dreams. The tender sawing of bow against string that she had not heard in more than a century and a half. The piece that she thought she would never hear again being played by the man who mattered in heart the most.

There he was. Across from her. On the other side of the bridge. Illuminated by moonlight, she was shocked to see that his hair was not the silver she has always looked for. His hair was as black as the night sky, his face as bright and beautiful as she had last seen it. There were no bags under his eyes, and a healthy blush rested on his cheeks. As the piece ended, so did her shock fade away. Fade into an overwhelming desire to run to him and throw herself into his arms.

'But does he recognize me? Does he know that it's me?'Tessa asked herself, fearful of what the answer might be.

But as he lifted the bow from his violin, he opened his eyes and looked across the bridge directly at her. Her breath hitched and caught at her throat. His eyes, his luminous, expressive eyes, which she had always found beautiful, looked at her and crinkled to a gentle smile. The smile that she had longed to see the most.

"Wo Ai Ni." He said, his voice as gentle as she last heard it. "Wo bu xiang shi qu ni."

She let the tears finally fall, and ran to his welcoming arms, feeling all the love and hope she held throughout the years pouring out of her soul. As he kissed her tears away, she thanked him for his faith in their love. Her love, his love, their love, was truly transcendent.