🌃 Eruleum's King

• Chapter 20 • Silver gate •

They walked in and the blankness turned into a bronze paradise. Water that color ran through the walls as waterfalls, mechanic gadgets still, just gleaming, being the distant memory of something that once worked.
Under their feet, brownish grass cracked, trees with no leaves, the smell of metal and a cold breeze accompanying them.

-You don't think that what we heard before entering is real, right?

Magnus knew better how tricky magic could be, how capable of poisoning someone's mind until there was no sane part left. He was also conscious of Alec's overthinking habit, but he couldn't blame him. Yet, the warlock carefully selected his words before saying them outloud.

-I don't know, Alexander, reality and fiction live together in here... Besides, you know how capable faeries are of tricking with words.

-That's true... -A sigh escaped from Alec's lips as he watched his surroundings and of course, made sure the rest was doing good, since Magnus and him were walking behind them. -I've always thought I'd dedicate my whole life to be at the institute and hunt demons.

-And now we are walking to hell, again. -Sometimes, Magnus wondered if Alec wished for things to be different, to be as they used to before meeting.

-Even hell seems like heaven if we are together.

If there was a doubt left, it definitely vanished as soon as those words came out, followed by a shy, but honest smile. Magnus couldn't help but stare those blue eyes, quite puzzled. Alec Lightwood was probably the only one capable of leaving him speechless, not that it bothered him.

-Was it too much? -Alec was so used to Magnus' witty answers, to his exceptional way of finding a reply for everything that for a moment, he thought he should have stayed silent.

Magnus' eyes softened, his tender smile showed as his ringed fingers traced the Shadowhunter's cheek, who, clearly relieves, touched his fingers. Maybe, he was getting better and love and the way it changed him.

-Of course not... You are a sweet boy... -The sweetest. His dark and mysterious appearance had nothing to do with his pure soul. Magnus felt proud of himself for being the owner of that key that opened Alec's heart. -Don't tell anyone, but I don't know what to say.

Hearing his laugh caused the warlock to chuckled as well, as he, instintly, came even closer to his boy. How much he desired to go back to New York and spend hours murmuring words of love together.

They had around them that unique space that would probably never see again but they could only watch each other. Love was like that: you could have a million flowers but just treasure one, even if it wasn't the most impressive or breautiful for the rest, it was for you.

What they was expecting was still a mistery, not even Ten had an idea of what were they looking for, she only knew that when they reached Eruleum, they would know, at least she would. The image clearly repeated in her mind, spinning nonstop. Every detail could be perfectly seen if she paid enough attention.

The faerie was at the head of the group, she avoided turning around, talking to them, even if it was almost impossible for her to stay quiet, but she was sure that if she looked at that genuine gang, that horrid guiltness that rarely felt, would come to her.

What if there was no trick hiding behind that voice and one of them was sentenced to stay there for eternity? What if they were about to face a challenge they couldn't overcome? It was hard to try to convince herself that it was their responsability when she clearly knew she kind of manipulated her words in order to gain their trust and help.

Every part of that place mesmerized them, caught their attention and made them look twice, even if that wasn't their intention.
However, they were still conscious about the possibility of having to fight something, or someone, maybe that was the reason why they were left so astonished when finding in front of them that one tree. Thick trunk, bigger than the rest, not bronze, but silver, almost white, holding pure crystal leaves and traces of bronze as if they were veins carrying its life.