Division of Our Hearts

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"Alec!" Isabelle leaped on her brother like a cougar as soon as he set foot through the door. Alec liked to tell himself that she didn't spend a lot of her time sitting the room closest to the door, waiting for him to come home. She had this habit of worrying too much. Like all the worst case scenarios came into her head before any of the good, and she'd dwell on these scenarios until her ears would bleed. Alec just wished she knew that he was capable of looking after himself.

"I told you he'd be fine," Jace pointed out. Isabelle unwound an arm from Alec's neck and used it to punch Jace's arm. "Hey! I'm just pointing out a fact!"

"Shut up," Isabelle mumbled. She squeezed Alec extra hard before stepping back. "I'm glad you're okay. Was it bad?"

Alec shrugged with a haunted smile. "Same as always."

Isabelle nodded. She knew that she would never understand the horrors of the war until she was sent out into it herself. "Clary is reading Max a story before bed. You should go to him before he sleeps. You know how he has nightmares every time you're sent out," she said.

Alec hated that Max worried so much about him. Isabelle could handle her worry, whereas Max was only nine years old. The fact that he suffered nightmares because he was scared of his big brother dying made Alec reluctant to leave every time he got called to the field. He didn't want the weight of it to weight down his little brother's mind.

Max demanded to have the room on the top floor as soon as they had discovered they had been left this house in their parent's will. Nobody fought with him about it because there was no need for it. Isabelle and Alec weren't going to tell their baby brother than he couldn't have the room he wanted just after their parents had died. Besides, any room would suit them. And they would do anything to make Max happy.

"How did you win, in the end?" Isabelle asked. The staircases creaked under their feet, years and years of bearing weight causing the wood to groan like the moans of ghosts. Alec wondered how many Lightwoods had roamed this house. How many of them lost their lives in this endless war?

"The ending of the three day full moon," Alec answered. "If it had been any longer than that, they probably would have won."

"Stupid fairies," Jace muttered. "Stupid sequined free-for-all pansies."

"We mustn't be bitter about it," Isabelle chided. "We won. That's the main thing."

Alec was thankful that his sister wasn't resentful. If she was then she would probably turn into Jace. Not that that would be a completely bad thing-his parabatai was a good person-but Jace's anger towards the Downworlders caused him to train harder, in the hopes of being sent out onto the field ahead of time. Which could happen if a Shadowhunter showed dedication and skill. Especially now, when times were tough and numbers were dwindling.

"Do you think they'll give you some time to rest?" Isabelle asked hopefully. "Before they send you out again?"

Alec didn't think so. He knew that the next time the Downworlders attacked, he would be called out again. No man was spared from the draft. There was a time when he would have lied, given Isabelle some hope to hold onto. But he had learned his lesson and knew that he couldn't give his sister false hope. She didn't like it and wouldn't stand for it. Isabelle was brave and she could take the truth, as harsh as it was.

"No. They probably won't," he said.

Isabelle nodded. She released her hair from its ponytail so it curtained her face. They continued in silence. Not even Jace had a smartass remark for he knew it was only a matter of time before Alec met his maker. The Shadowhunters were dying younger and younger these days. And Alec was no exception.