We are Morgenstern: when we burn, we burn bright

10. The Beginning

Clary stared at Simon in disbelief. The brunette had told her the story, but it was simply so absurd. She had never heard of a vampire who could walk under the sun.

But this was Simon, her best friend. He had always been unconventional. Problem was, there was no way Simon could go back to Dumort, that much was clear from his tone.

But she also needed to go now, since they were going to Idris. She held his hands in hers, still unnaturally cold. “I don’t want to leave you here.” She said, biting her lower lip.

Simon tilted his head to the side, hands shaking slightly. “I don’t want you to.” He said, honestly.

An idea started forming in Clary’s head. She reached for her stele, and moved it on Simon’s palm. Instead of burning him like for a moment he had feared, nothing happened. Clary traced the rune on his arms, quick and practical, and Simon didn’t ask her what she was doing. He trusted her, and she would never hurt him.

She let go of his hand and stepped back, analysing him for a moment. Then she nodded to herself. “Let’s go. I’m not leaving you here, Raphael or not Raphael.” She said, missing the way he winced at the name of the vampire leader.

They walked slowly back towards where Clary had come from, but weirdly enough, no one tried to stop them. Simon waited for someone to point him out, to ask him what he was doing. But no one said anything, no one even glanced at him. It was almost like… he looked at his best friend, and Clary covered her mouth with her hand.

“Yeah, they can’t see you.” She muttered, and Simon laughed. His heart still hurt, where he had left Raphael, but if he focused enough on Clary, on leaving Brooklyn for Shadowhunters land, maybe it would stop hurting so bad.

Clary frowned, stopping next to Magnus.   She spotted Izzy, standing with her hands wrapped around herself, standing a little far away from her parents. Her brother was next to her, but only physically. It was clear that he wasn’t really there. His eyes had a faraway look on him, and he looked worse than he had the day before. Jace Herondale was standing next to a Shadowhunter, apparently talking to him, but his eyes were tracking Sebastian’s movement.

Clary grimaced, recognising the look on Jace’s face: Sebastian was on his way to break another heart. The blond boy was talking to Magnus, apparently oblivious of Jace’s clear attention. The warlock was disgruntled, and was glaring at the flock of Shadowhunters close to them, as Simon and Clary stopped before him. “What’s going on?” Asked Clary, Simon hovering behind her.

Magnus didn’t seem to see the brunette. “The Shadowhunters want a lift to Idris. They are paying, but I really don’t want to help them.” He said, petulantly.

Sebastian didn’t smile. Actually, he stared directly at Simon and Clary, pointedly waiting for Magnus to notice the brunette. Clary’s eyes widened, as Magnus kept talking. “But Tessa says that I should help them, that it might help with our case…” He shrugged. Then he spotted Alec, stiffly waiting with Izzy, and he bit the inside of his cheek. “I will be right back.”

“What the hell.” Said Sebastian staring at Simon and speaking with no inflection.

Simon squirmed under his judgemental look, but Clary stepped forward, daring her brother to do something. Sebastian merely arched an eyebrow. “Explain.” He ordered.

Clary shrugged. “Simon can walk under the sunlight.” She said simply. Her brother was however just as perceptive as her, unfortunately.

“How did he find out?” he asked, and Simon felt his heart contracting. He put a hand on his heart, images of Raphael’s face flashing on his mind. Raphael, the first thing he saw when he came out of the grave, Raphael at the party, Raphael cuddled next to Simon in bed, and Raphael just as Simon jumped out of the window.

He took deep breath that he didn’t need, trying to blink away the tears and the images from his head. His hands were shaking, and he dazedly thought about the fact that no one had ever warned him about vampires with panic attacks.

“Sebastian.” Hissed Clary, and then her hand was on his arm, anchoring him, steading him, a reassuring presence that always kept him right on his feet, safe.

Since they were kids, people had always seen Simon as Clary’s protector. He was taller than her, holding her hand while they crossed the road and taking her to school. Hell, Simon thought that he was Clary’s knight in shining armour too.

Truth was that it was Clary who in fact protected him, Clary who stepped forward in between him and bullies, Clary who broke Jon Cartwright’s nose when he had tried to push Simon on the floor in Middle school and asking him to ‘suck my dick, you dirty faggot’.

And it was Clary who anchored him for long enough, and he blinked away the pain, looking at the girl with wide eyes. Sebastian looked at him softly, and Clary’s voice didn’t waver. “I’ve put an invisibility rune on him, and I don’t know why it doesn’t work on you. But he’s coming with us.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything, and Magnus came back to them, looking disgruntled. “Okay, you two get ready. We are ready to go.”

After Magnus’ story, he had gone and confronted them He had accused them of hiding what they did during the Uprising, and neither had denied. His mother had looked at him with deep regret, but his father... Robert Lightwood had held his head high and told him that the Lightwoods had always made history, regardless if it was positive or not. And Alec had wanted to strike him. Instead he had smiled at him. "Oh, yeah. Good thing I broke off my engagement with Lydia, then." he said, and he saw the way his father turned brittle in outrage as a win. His mother shook her head slightly, and Alec found himself questioning how the hell did she know. Maybe mother knows best wasn't just a made up quote. "Yeah, I broke up with Lydia, since I'm gay as fuck." he had hissed, and his father had taken a step back. He looked at his son like he wasn't seeing him at all, shaking in silent rage and... fear? Defeat? Alec hadn't stayed to investigate.

Jace walked away from him to stand next to Izzy, as Magnus, Tessa and the two Morgenstern made their way towards wherever they were staying. He gave one look at his parents and walked towards the High Warlock of Brooklyn. "Magnus." he called, falling into step behind him, as they walked through the streets of Idris.

Alec hadn't been there in a long time, and yet he could remember everything. Clary was looking around, an avid expression on her face as she looked around. Sebastian seemed more analytical, inspecting every house with a cynical look. "That's the Blackthorn house." he said, pointing it at his sister. "Right next to Amatis Graymark's house." he continued.

Clary grinned up at him, and elbowed him. "You would now." She said, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Mark Blackthorn was totally in love with you." he pointed out, and Clary waved her hand at him.

"What about Helen?" she asked, and Sebastian had the decency to blush and look away.

"Shut it, Clarissa." he said, earning a laugh from her.

Magnus had however stopped and was looking at Amatis' house with a peculiar gaze. He grinned at Alec. "Alexander! Exactly who I wanted to see." he said, handing him a key. "Can you open the house, please? I am positive there will be some sort of Nephilim only system based in, so I can only enter if I'm invited." he explained, and Alec nodded, because why not. With a twist of the key, the dark haired opened the door and stepped in, waiting for Magnus. The warlock didn't walk in. Instead he made a long movement with his hands, and Alec ducked down to avoid the flying package that came flying from it. "Perfect." purred the Asian, and the sound sent shivers through Alec's spine.

They fell into companiable silence as they hurried after the group, and Alec started speaking without meaning to do so. "I confronted my parents. They didn't negate it. Father seemed ever proud of it. I also came out to them." he said, and Magnus put a comforting hand on his shoulder with a soft smile.

"It's not your fault." Strangely, this was exactly what Alec wanted to hear.

“Let’s go.” She said, and he simply followed her. She and Simon walked away, towards a place Clary had been only once in her life but knew all too well. “This is where the Trueblood used to live.” She peered at one of the symbols on one of the castle-like mansions. “That’s the Herondale House.” She added, Simon looking around curiously.

Clary pointed upwards, towards a hill. “And if you keep going straight, you’ll reach the Morgenstern mansion.” She informed, a note of nostalgia in her voice. Simon reached out for her hand, and she let him hold on her, unaware that she disappeared too at his contact. Simon noticed, but didn’t comment on it, filing the information for future use.

“Let’s go.” She hurried after a few moments, walking in the opposite direction from the Mansion. Simon followed without any fatigue, his vampire instincts kicking in despite the tiredness.

They stopped outside the largest cemetery that the Daylighter had ever seen. “I thought you said that Shadowhunters were buried in City of Bones?” he asked, the name foreign on his tongue.

“Not all of them.” Clary was already walking away, looking at the headstones with a determined look on her face. She stopped next to one, and beckoned Simon. When he reached her, Simon read the headstones out loud. “Granville and Adele Fairchild.” Clary’s grandparents, that died when she was two. The reason her father was sent away from the house by Jocelyn.

Clary blinked a few times, then moved back until she reached another grave. This headstone was bigger, and had different names written on them. Five names. And Clary knew for a fact that only three of the people were under ground. “Seraphina Morgenstern. Valentine Morgenstern. Jocelyn Morgenstern.” She said, tracing her fingers over the names.

She traced the names under theirs, letter after letter. “Clarissa and Sebastian Morgenstern.” Read Simon crouching next to her, and holding her hand, harder than normal. She looked at him, and he smiled ruefully at her. His eyes were becoming an alarming shade of black. “Apparently I’m d-dead.” She said, trying to sound light and amused.

“Clary…” started the brunette, but the girl shook her head.

“I don’t know what I was expecting. An answer? To see their g-ghosts?” her voice shook with her hands, as she tried to stand upright. “I’m s-sorry, S-simon. T-this…” she stopped talking angrily wiping tears from her face.

Simon made to hug her, but stopped, flinching. “I… I’m sorry, Clary.” He said, lamely. It was clear he wanted to hug her, but Clary knew he was too hungry and scared to truly try.

She sniffed, and wordlessly drew her stele out, writing a rune that she had thought on the spot on the handkerchief she always brought around with her in case of necessity. This was a necessity. In a matter of seconds, the material changed, going from cloth to steel. She handed the cup to Simon, the white liquid clear. “Drink it.” She ordered, clearing her throat.

Simon warily gulped down the drink, and immediately felt better. Almost as if he had drank blood. “Wow.” He said, and Clary gave him a tight smile. “What is this?”

“Tasteless, colourless and odourless blood.” She explained, shrugging as it was no big deal. Her knees were still drawn in, and she stared at the Morgenstern headstone.

“They would have preferred to be cremated; Morgensterns always do.” Said a voice behind her, and unlike Simon, she didn’t flinch. The man sat down next to Clary and looked between her and Simon. “Good afternoon.”

Simon had assumed a strange posture, like a cat ready to attack, but Clary nodded numbly at him, tears still stinging in her eyes. “Were you cremated?” she asked, and Simon relaxed looking at her. He probably figured the man was a ghost. She wasn’t sure how exactly did he manage to see him, but she didn’t care.

The man looked amused by that. “You could say that, yeah.” He pronounced in the end, as if sharing a private joke with himself. Then he observed the cup in Simon’s hand. “So, you are Clary’s friend Simon. I’ve seen you transform.” He started, and Simon wrapped his arms around his knees, as if under attack. The reminder of Simon’s vampirehood and Raphael was always there.

“You are more powerful than I would have expected.” He told Clary, and she startled. “Invisibility rune, and now this. You are definitely one of the swords of Heaven.” He pronounced, and deposited two rings in her hand, gold bands with coloured gems on top. One was green and the other was dark blue.

“You two are soul brothers.” He said in the end, and Clary frowned at the white suited man.

“Parabatai? But Simon is a vampire.” She said, and the man gave her a serene smile.

“He might be a vampire in this world, but his soul and yours? Forged together from the heavenly fire, intertwined and forever fated and bonded.”

The shadowhunter looked at Sebastian, probably judging whether it was appropriate to say anything about the day before. He seemed to decide against it. “Where are you going?” he asked.

Sebastian made a rushed decision. “We are going to my house.” He decided, walking quickly towards where he knew the stables where.

Jace followed the boy to the back of the house and stared at him confused as he took two of the horses. "Yo, Letty." He greeted. "Horses have a long memory." He explained to Jace.

The shorter boy was not exactly hesitant but a little intrigued. "Won't Jia Penhallow be angry if you borrow her horses without asking?" He asked, and Sebastian rewarded him with a cheeky grin.

"It’s her own fault for inviting us here. She should have thought better than leave the horses so unguarded while I was here." He shrugged like it wasn't big deal, and Jace snorted. "Vamos, mi limon pequeño!" Added Sebastian striding forward before Jace could ask him what he said.

He was sure whatever it was, it was mocking. Honestly, if it wasn't for the fact that he found the young boy intriguing... They made their way down the streets of Idris, and then uphill. Jace raced past his grandmother's, Imogen Herondale, without stopping.

His grandmother had tried to take him in after Stephen's death, but if there is something Shadowhunter honour more than giving your word, then it was the last thing you said before passing away. And Stephen's death wish was for Maryse to look after his son Jonathan.

Finally, they reached a mansion that looked old and unlived. There was grass everywhere, and the small swimming pool was covered in nasty stuff. Sebastian surveyed the entire place with a small grimace on his face. “Well, this looks awful.” He commented, jumping off the dark mantled horse.

Jace had figured, from the bright M that stood on the front door, that the house was Sebastian’s house. The Morgenstern household, that no one had managed to enter in about 13 years. Some said it was cursed, but Sebastian just walked straight inside the house like it wasn’t big deal. Like many people hadn’t tried that and failed.

Sebastian grinned at his expression. “Only Morgenstern blood can open this door.” He explained, shrugging. Made sense.

They stepped inside the house, that unlike its surrounding, looked at least a little more lived in. The entire place was a mess. There was food on the table in the kitchen, all old and crusty, and the chairs were on the floor. Jace tried to look at Sebastian, but the platinum haired boy took everything on stride, a small frown on his face.

“This is where my dad died.” He said, matter of factly when they stopped by the living room. The room was a mess, dried blood on the floor and on the couches. There was even a small kindjal on the floor, and a pair of keys. Sebastian picked them up and looked at Jace with a grim smile. “Mum always used to lose her keys.” He pronounced, and then pointed at the stairs. “I was there, you know. Hiding here, when that bastard Hodge stabbed dad.” He wrinkled his nose. “I hate that he managed to escape yet again.”

The Clave was currently looking for Hodge, but he seemed to have disappeared. Jace didn’t know what to do, how to console Sebastian. He seemed so calm about the whole thing, like a tourist guide in Anne Frank’s house. It made him feel helpless, because he was keeping everything so closed off, acting like he didn’t feel anything at all.

Sebastian climbed up the stairs, Jace looking a little distraught as he followed him. They entered a room that was almost as dishevelled as the living room. Sebastian looked around, that cynical expression back in place. “This is mum and dad’s room.” He explained, and he pointed at the remaining of what looked like a wardrobe. “The portal she threw us in was hidden behind that wardrobe. And this was where she used to get ready, with all her jewels and stuff.”

Jace walked towards the bed, where he had spotted some pieces of paper and picked them up. Turn out, they were drawings. “Who made this?” he asked, and Sebastian looked at him in confusion.

The green eyed boy took the drawings from him and a slow smile spread on his lips. “This… Clarissa made this.” He sat down on the tattered mattress. “This is her, and this is mom. And this are me, dad and Uncle Lucian.” He said, running a hand over the drawing.

Jace sat next to him, running over his head to find something not rude to say. It was strangely very difficult. “It’s okay to be sad, you know? Like, you can cry if you want to.” He said in the end, cringing at his own words. Sebastian looked up at him with his lips pursed.

“You think I’m weird, don’t you? That it doesn’t make sense for me to be at the last place where I have ever seen my parents and be so calm.” He accused, and Jace didn’t even try to deny.

Sebastian stood up suddenly. “I can’t!” he bursted, suddenly, looking surprised at his own outburst. “I have never cried since that day. Not once, and I feel like I should be crying, right now! I should be sad, but I can’t physically cry!” he put a hand on his forehead, letting the drawing fall at his feet. “There is something wrong with me.”

Jace looked down at his hands, unsure of what to say to him. Then he took a deep breath, and started to speak.

“When I was six years old, my father gave me a falcon to train. Falcons are raptors – killing birds, he said, the Shadowhunters of the sky.

The falcon didn’t like me, and I didn’t like him, either. Its sharp beak made me nervous, and its bright eyes always seemed to be watching me. It would slash at me with beak and talons when I came near: for weeks my wrists and hands were always bleeding. I didn’t know it, but father had selected a falcon that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus was nearly impossible to tame. But I tried, because father told me to make the falcon obedient, and I wanted to please him.” Jace stopped to make sure Sebastian was listening. The blond boy was staring down at Jace, curiosity on his pretty face.

“I stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. I learned the equipment: the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash that bound the bird to my wrist. I was meant to keep the falcon blind, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it – instead I tried to sit where the bird could see me as I touched and stroked its wings, willing it to trust me. I fed it from my hand, and at first it would not eat. Later it ate so savagely that its beak cut the skin of my palm. But I was glad, because it was progress, and because I wanted the bird to know me, even if the bird had to consume my blood to make that happen.

I began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that its slim wings were built for the speed of flight, that it was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dived to the ground, it moved like light. When it learned to circle and come to my wrist, I nearly shouted with delight. Sometimes the bird would hop to my shoulder and put its beak in my hair. I knew my falcon loved him, and when I was certain it was not just tamed but perfectly tamed, I went to my father and showed him what I had done, expecting him to be proud.” Jace stopped. Sebastian’s interested was capture.

“And he was, right?” he asked. Jace bit his lower lip. His father had been going crazy by then, after the death of his second wife. Also, his first girlfriend, Amatis, had been convicted by the Clave. He wasn’t at his best. He sighed.

“Father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and broke its neck. ‘I told you to make it obedient,’ my father said, and dropped the falcon’s lifeless body to the ground. ‘Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: They are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed; it was broken.’

“Later, when father left me, I cried over my pet, until eventually father sent a servant to take the body of the bird away and bury it.” He smiled at Sebastian’s shocked expression. “I never cried again too and never forgot what I had learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.”

Sebastian looked down at him for a moment, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Your story sucked.” He started, and Jace grinned. Sebastian’s expression softened, as he slowly lowered himself until he was sat on his lap. “But I kind of get the conclusion you came to. And I agree with it, too. Except the part where to be loved is to be the one destroyed.” He pressed his lips to Jace’s. “To love, that’s the greatest weakness of human kind.”  He ran a hand through Jace’s hair, and bit his lip. “And to be the one loving, that’s one step towards one’s destruction.”