Writing Dump (a.k.a MINI FICS)

Ashes (The Infernal Devices/The Mortal Instruments)

A battle raged on. Tessa flitted through the crowd, slicing and slashing anyone-and anything-that stood in her way. But just as soon as it started, it was over. Battered, bloodied, and high on adrenaline, she scanned the crowd of survivors for her fiancé.

"Tessa," a voice croaked a few feet away. She whirled around to see Jem propped against a wall, holding a hand over his stomach. She rushed to his side, her earlier exhilaration transfigured into sheer panic. She pressed her hands over his, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

"Does anyone have a stele?" She scanned the crowd now gathered around the two lovers. A boy with dark hair came forth, pulling the long, narrow instrument out of his belt. Later, she would remember that it was Alec Lightwood, a descendant of her sister-in-law. Tessa took it, her hand shaking as she hovered just over her lover's skin as she tried to remember how to draw an iratze.

"Tessa," he said again, using what seemed like all his strength to caress her cheek, "My dear Tessa. Runes don't work on me anymore. But its okay."

She shook her head, curling tendrils of hair falling out of the sloppy pony tail she had done that morning. "You're not dying," she said. Her voice cracked, but whether it was because of the cries of battle or of grief she was not sure. "You're going to make it out of here alive, and we're finally going to get married, and we'll both be happy."

Jem smiled at her, his face growing paler by the second. "I am not good with words, Tessa. But now I must use them to tell you everything my music once did."

"You don't have to tell me anything right now. This isn't goodbye," she said, shaking her head and smoothing his rumpled hair.

"But I must tell you. We may never get a chance like this again," He propped himself up more. "This is not my first death. But it will be my last. I have no grief within me, and only one regret." He coughed, and Tessa saw blood on his lips; she was brought back to the days of Jem's dependence on a drug that both saved and took his life. "My one regret," he continued, snapping her back to the moment, "Is that I didn't get to spend more time with you. I am sorry, Tessa."

"You don't have to be sorry. It wasn't your fault. You don't need to regret anything, James Carstairs."

"Goodbye, Tessa. Perhaps we will meet in another life. And tell Jace..."

He never finished his sentence.

As his body grew progressively colder, as did Tessa. She felt numb all over, unable to move from his side. She vaguely felt gentle hands pulling her to her feet and walking her to a room where she could wash the blood off her hands. Jem's blood, she reminded herself.

Comforting hands reached out to touch her shoulders, her back, her arms, but she didn't feel any of them as she saw the body of her love wrapped in white silk, burning on a pyre in the middle of a field until he was nothing but ash.