A sheep came to its slaughter
of the New York Institute was consumed in a silence. The only thing that could be
heard was nervously pacing of Valentine Morgenstern, at the early hour. There
was still, so much to do, and he was running out of time. He knew that
Downworlders are gathering themselves too. His allies in other Institutes have
confirmed it. Of course for Valentine it was nothing, a small barrier to
achieve his goal.
Finally, after all those years of staying hidden, planning, he will get back what supposed to belong to him. He will rule the whole Shadow World. He will kill all Downworlders, who won’t submit to be his slaves.
Then he will become the King of the Shadow World, with his queen and all of his children by his side.
And he’s going to achieve it soon.
But first, he needed to wake his beloved queen, and he just knew what he has to do.
“Jace, why won’t you visit mom?” Clary asked, when Jace was training with Isabelle. Those words disorientated him, making him almost cut Izzy with a blade.
“Why should I?” he stepped aside from Izzy, and glanced at the redhead. “I don’t see a point, why should I visit your mom?”
Jocelyn was in a coma for a month now, and it’s been hard on Clary. She still didn’t understand why her mother put herself in a magical coma on purpose. A coma that they could not fight off, not without magic.
“She’s your mom too, Jace.”
“I don’t know if I want her to be my mother!” he shouted and rushed out of the training room, shutting the door with as much force as he could. Isabelle stood awkwardly, glancing from Clary to Alec and Sebastian, who spar in the other side of the room.
“You have to give him some time,” Izzy came closer to Clary, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s a new situation for him. He didn’t have a father for so many years, believing that his father was murdered on his eyes. And now, he has him back, and new sister too…I think it’s too much for him.”
“You know, mom was keeping a lock of his hair for all those years,” the girl’s voice was distant, yet you could hear a breaking on it. “I always thought it belonged to my father…It’s too much for me too. I didn’t have a dad, but Luke. Now I have a father, and brother. My mom is in some magical coma, and I don’t know what to do about it…I thought, that if Jace will talk to mom…she’ll wake up.”
“I’m sure, we’ll find a way to wake your mom,” Izzy added, smiling reassuringly.
“Thanks Izzy, you’re a great friend,” with these words a tear rolled down Clary’s cheek. She usually had Simon to talk about everything that bothered or made her sad. She was still hurt by the fact that Lewis was turned willingly into a vampire. The girl missed her friend, and she couldn’t even see him anymore. She barely was leaving the Institute, and if she did that, she was always accompanied by her brother and Sebastian. The guy was nice, but a bit creepy. Clary had a feeling that he’s hawking her non-stop.
“Clarissa, where is your brother?” Valentine snapped her out of thoughts, when he walked inside the training room.
“Probably in his room,” Alec answered for her, as he and Sebastian finished their sparring session.
“I’m leaving for two days, an important matter have come that needs my involvement,” the young hunters remained silent. “Alexander, Sebastian, you’re in a charge, as Maryse and Robert are still in Japan.”
“Yes, Sir,” Sebastian reacted first, bowing his head to the older man.
“Alright. I’ll be back in two days.”
The ground of the Institute quacked, when Valentine came through the portal.
With every next second he was getting more and more frustrated. He has been here for three hours, and still there was no trace of the book. That and there was no sign of the man, who had it for too many years.
The old fashioned furniture, that had to have at least a few centuries already, were broken. Books were ripped and shattered all over the black-wooden floor. All paints were gathered in the middle, next to books and the remainders of furniture and clothes, in the middle of the living room.
“Master, we can’t find it,” A yellow skinned humanly-looking demon with a snake’s eyes and tongue turned to him.
“Keep searching, it has to be here,” the demon went to another room, sniffling on his way. Just then he stopped dead in his tracks. “What? Didn’t you hear me, you dull creature?! Keep search…”
“Master, someone is outside. A vampire.”
Just in that moment, the door was widely opened.
“Who are you?!” a loud voice with a British accent boomed through the place. “You invaded Master Fell’s property. Show yourself!”
“Well, hello there,” he spoke to the male, ginger-haired vampire. The Downworlder, physically looked like a man in the early twenties. He had a dark green, long cloak, and black shoes on platform.
“Who are you?!” he repeated himself, sliding his fangs out.
“I believe that you have heard about me,” the man stated. “I am Valentine Morgenstern.”
Demons came out of their hiding places, and stood behind their Master. All four of them, and their leader.
“Demons,” the vampire whispered, before one of the demons grabbed his throat, lifting him into the air.
“Now, be nice, and maybe I’ll let you live,” Valentine came closer to the Downworlder. “Where is Warlock Fell?”
When the man didn’t say a word, the Shadowhunter ordered a demon to rip his arm off. A loud crying went throughout the room. Dark red blood was dripping from his wound. But the man was still silent. So the demon ripped his second arm off, and spat some of his venom on the wounds. The once dark red blood now turned into black and had burned the vampire. He let out a cry of pain, a moment before the yellow skinned demon dropped him to the floor.
“Now, I’m asking again,” Valentine crouched next to the Downworlder, grabbing his sharp chin between his fingers. The black eyes of the vampire were looking straight into Valentine’s black ones. “Where is Warlock Fell. Come on, cooperate Downworlder.”
“Let me kill him, Master,” a bony-hand placed itself on the non-beating heart of the vampire. “I will feed on his power. I couldn’t feed on the hunter’s death before. Let me feed on his power.”
“He’s all yours Abba…”
“Wait!” the vampire screeched, grabbing the attention of Valentine. “Ragnor Fell left London, three days ago.”
“Where did he go?”
“To New York,” Valentine couldn’t suppress a smirk, that was creeping onto his face.
And so the sheep came to its slaughter, by itself. How convenient; he thought to himself.
“We’re going back home,” Morgenstern turned on his heel and moved towards the door. “Kill him.”
“What?! You pro…” when he stepped outside, he could hear loud cries of the vampire, and a roar from Abbadon.
“I’ll come by, in the evening, ok?” Ragnor smiled down at the vampire, sitting on the purple plush couch.
“You don’t have to leave at all, I have a bed here as well,” the younger returned a smile.
“I promised Magnus, that I’ll be back before the sun rise,” he got up, and a second later Raphael stood next to him, holding his brown coat for him.
“Then let me walk you back,” he picked his own jacket and opened the door of his bedroom.
“It’s ok. I’ll be fine. The sun will be up in an hour, you have to stay in,” he caressed his cold cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“And I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he stated firmly. “I’ll heal.”
“No. You’ll burn down, and I refuse to watch it,” Ragnor kissed his cheek, and pressed him tightly to his chest. “I’ll come by later, have a great sleep, Raphael.”
“I’ll see you later?”
The New York, at the Dawn was strangely quiet, of course you could hear the sound of running river, some rustles. Somewhere far away a car was driving. Some people were shouting somewhere. Ragnor was in New York for a week now, and he missed his home in England. He had his peace there, away from the madness, from the bloodthirsty Shadowhunters, who wanted to rule everything, no matter the price, away from the running after a power.
But then, his friend needed him. It was a hard for Magnus, that he’s in love, and he can’t be with the hunter. Ragnor saw it easily in his cat-eyes. As much as he wanted his best friend to have it all, to live happily with the boy, he knew they couldn’t. He knew that he hurt him, by telling him that it’s better to break up, but as well he knew he had a right. Both of them, the hunter and Magnus will be hurt. And that is something that Ragnor tried to avoid. From all their trio, like Catarina once called them, Magnus was the most vulnerable when it comes to real feelings. He always falls easily in love, and ends up being hurt. Ragnor and Catarina are always there to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. Fell knew, he felt it in his old bones, that this time Magnus will be hurt beyond anything.
“I knew that you will go out finally,” a voice interrupted his thoughts, as he stepped into the Brooklyn area. The voice was familiar, he had heard it before, though he couldn’t recall where. When Ragnor turned around, he spotted a blonde haired man in the late thirties.
“Long time, no see, Warlock,” he spat it out, as it was some poison.
Ragnor smelled a reek scent behind him, almost a rotting scent. He turned his head slowly, warily, and spotted a yellow snake eyes and empty pools in the skull.
“Again working with demons, I see,” the warlock said to the Shadowhunter.
“I do everything I have to, to achieve my goal,” a moment of silence dropped between them. Ragnor focused on his magic, and send an electrical-ball towards the snake-demon. But he only have managed to hurt him just a little bit, yanking a small part of the yellow skin. “I came here for something of mine that you have. Give it back to me, and maybe, I’ll let you live.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Give me the Book of White. I need it,” he stated, staring throughout Ragnor, as if he tried to reach to his insides.
“You think, you’ll be able to wake her?” Valentine’s eyebrow quirked at it, as if he didn’t expect Ragnor to know the purpose of wanting the book. “You need a warlock to prepare the antidote.”
“Give me the Book.”
“Never,” Valentine only nodded, and spoke to the demons in the demon language. Before Ragnor could even make a move, Abbadon, and the Snake-demon moved before him and ripped his chest open. The warlock let out a choking sound, and he spat his blood on them, before he fell down to the ground. Valentine came closer and crouched next to him, and in the same moment he grabbed his fast-beating heart in his hand. Ragnor’s eyes were wide opened at it.
“The book, where is it Downworlder?” Morgenstern hissed at him.
“Well then,” he let go of his heart, and wiped the blood on his coat. “Spit some of your venom. He’ll die in an unbearable pain.”
And so the demon did it.
Ragnor felt as if his body went on fire in a second, he could feel the flames on himself. A cry of pain escaped his mouth. He was sure that his magic won’t heal him, not this kind of poison and wounds. But he had to alert someone.
With the last strength in his body, he lifted his right hand, and whispered the spell. Before the darkness engulfed him forever, he watched as the green sparks left his fingers.
He felt cold and a heat on the same time. It’s like a fire was burning him from the inside, and outside he was ice-cold. He was thrashing on the bed, rolling from one side to the other, trying to stop the pain he was feeling. Something was ripping his chest open.
And then he heard it.
Ragnor’s voice was spinning in his mind, making his body tremble and his eyes opened wide. He felt like throwing up, but then, he couldn’t.
It was all in his head. It was Ragnor’s doing.
Then he realized it.
It was the spell, that Ragnor had taught him, a spell to alert the other of troubles. He had felt what Ragnor was feeling at the moment.
His friend was dying.
In no time, he focused on his best friend, and cast a locating spell, and created a portal.
But Lilith, the view he witnessed…
Ragnor was laying on the cold ground, his green skinned, now was more grayish. His chest was ripped open. Around his body was a pool of blood, soaking his brown coat, and dark jeans. His green eyes held no longer this spark of a light.
Magnus dropped down to his knees next to him, and grabbed his hand in his own. It was cold, ice cold. Bane couldn’t suppress the tears that pushed themselves out of his cat eyes.
“Don’t leave me …please,” he whispered a prayer, but it could be no longer heard. “I’m sorry, Ragnor…I’m sorry…”
He could smell a trace of magic in the air, that hung around him. Then he saw, that one of Ragnor’s hand lays further and is turned upside as if he shot his sparkles out of it.
“Logos…” Magnus whispered, and green light brightened the still night-sky. It was only moments before the sun will be up. The green light turned into letters, a note.
‘Valentine is working with Abbadon and other demons. He is looking for the Book of White. Protect it, brother. And protect him…he has it. Love the three of yo…’
Magnus took out his phone, and called to the man that’s supposed to be with him, right now.
“I’m in Bushwick…come fast…it’s…” he choked on his own sobs. “It’s Ragnor…he’s…he’s dead…”
There was a sound of hanging up. Magnus threw the phone to the ground, and took the dead body of his friend into his arms. He couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand that his best friend, his brother is no longer on the Earth. That he cannot call to him, to annoy him, to complain to him. He can’t cry on his shoulder anymore, or hit him with something, when he disagreed with him. He can’t go anymore on some adventure with him. He can’t anymore talk to him.
When it hit him, it hit him hard, and he couldn’t stop the tears running down his cheeks.
“Who did this to him?” he heard seconds later. Magnus rose his head up, through the watered eyes, he looked at Raphael. There were bloody-tears running down his cheeks, when he dropped down to his knees next to them. Bane slowly laid the body of Ragnor on the ground, and let Raphael look at him.
The vampire placed his hand on Fell’s cheek, and caressed it slowly, like he did so often when the warlock was alive. He trailed his hand down his jaw, his neck, his arm and finally he took his hands into his, and brought them to his mouth to kiss it gently. Then Raphael put slowly the hand on the part of Ragnor’s chest that wasn’t ripped. He took off his jacket and covered the dead warlock with it.
“Who did this to him?” he repeated himself, shaking Magnus’s arm.
“Valentine and his demons.”
“He’s a dead man,” Raphael moved himself more into the alley, into the shadows, when he felt the burning of the first rays of the sun. “I will rip his heart out, and drain him before he’ll even try to make a move. He’s a dead man, I swear. He’ll die soon, and everyone who will try to stop me from it.”
“I have your back in this,” Magnus stated. “Valentine is going to pay, for killing Ragnor…but first we have to bury him.”
“Tomorrow, when the sun will go down, we’re going to London,” the warlock nodded. “Call Catarina Loss, and tomorrow, we’re going. Then, I’ll kill Valentine.”