Exile of the Clave - Chapter 21

987 82 169
                                        

Time seemed to slow around Sera, winding down like a clockwork piece on its last cycle until the Shadowhunters on the ridge were nearly frozen in place. The cat-like demons were halted mid-attack, their deadly tentacles poised to strike. Seraphine had become an elegant statuette with her arms held high and her dark curls blown back from a face that was filled with determination. Rayce's grimace of pain was a mask that made Sera close her eyes to let a single tear fall.

When she opened them again, the ritual site and the battle raging outside of it had vanished. Instead of cold bedrock under her knees, she found herself kneeling on what seemed like nothing more than a cloud, and a quick peek over the edge gave her an impossible view of the world far below. It was criss-crossed with an infinitely complex, shimmering network of gently vibrating lines that hummed quietly with an enchanting music. Dizzy, she rolled away from the edge. She was not alone.

Ithuriel stood patiently in front of shining white gates that stood closed. He was no longer the emaciated, tortured angel who had waited in darkness for years until Jace and Clary had discovered him under Wayland Manor. His glorious white wings were restored, full and strong, his platinum and gold tousle of hair shone in the light, and a fiercely proud smile lifted his heart-breakingly beautiful face. He was clothed simply in loose white trousers, and his golden-tinged chest was bare. He walked toward her on bare feet through wisps of cloud and stretched out his hand to help her rise.

"Daughter of mine, you have exceeded every hope that was born with you when you came into this world," he whispered joyously, unable or unwilling to contain the excitement in his voice.

Sera's hand was shaking in her father's grasp as she struggled to catch up to what was happening, more than a little nervous about seeing what looked like, for all intents and purposes, the Pearly Gates. "Am I dead?"

His laughter was sweet and gentle, and he lifted his other hand to brush her cheek tenderly. "Far from it, my child. You have come so far and suffered so much, but your journey is not over yet."

She felt her lower lip quiver for a moment as frustrated tears threatened to spill over, and her eyebrows drew together in an accusatory stare. "You knew. You were watching? Why didn't you save me? Or any of us?"

Ithuriel's happy smile faded, and he shook his head sadly in response. "Heaven's hand cannot work so openly. There are consequences to such direct intervention, and their effects can be far-reaching."

Unsatisfied with his answer, she stubbornly refused to forgive him so easily. He read the doubt in her eyes and turned her back toward the edge of the cloud so that they could look down together. He folded his arms around her from behind and embraced her. Love radiated from his body, and Sera trembled in wonder as the radiant net of faintly singing strands came back into view.

"Let me show you."

His hands slid down to guide hers into the shimmering mass, leading the index finger of her right hand to a single, bright fibre that pulsed differently than the others. The moment she touched it, soaring music filled her ears, burning through her, and she knew at once in her heart that this was her father's life line. She closed her eyes in bliss as his song flooded through her mind and swept her away.

A clockwork angel fluttered its mechanical wings futilely as Ithuriel struggled within, trapped in a prison from which he could not escape. Years drifted by uncounted, seemingly without purpose, but in truth, bringing him closer to one day being tasked with protecting a unique child. His long incarceration taught him patience and quieted his immortal mind until he could truly listen to the Mortals around him. He learned to see what they saw, hear what they heard, and feel what they felt. In time, he came to love as they loved. When his freedom was granted, he took with him the lessons he had learned, and they were engraved upon his heart.

Exile of the ClaveWhere stories live. Discover now