We Are All Drawn to What's Broken & Beautiful

The Middle of Nowhere

"I...I don't understand. He said... he said he would return." Magnus' face was a mask of pain and confusion. Another wave of agony washed over him and his knees gave out, collapsing onto the ground. His fingers were clutched so tightly around the Enchanted Mirror that his knuckles had turned white. He turned his face to face the enchantress, sorrow carved into his face.

Camille laughed, cruelly crushing the splinters of Magnus' heart.

"And you believed him? Princes are all so fickle aren't they? One moment, they will tell you that you are their world, their everything and the next, oh no, they've already moved on." She teased, painted lips curling as she watched the cursed man struggle to rise.

Magnus held the mirror to his chest, his legs trembling as he forced himself onto them, one hand pressed against the silver bench to support his weight.

"No," he breathed, even as pain crashed through him, his vision blurring, "Alexander will return. He will come back. He promised he would."

Camille smiled indulgently, tilting Magnus' chin up to face her. She cocked her head, her eyes searching the garden.

"Then where is he?"

She sing-songed and Magnus leaned out of her touch, clutching the mirror to his chest.

"He will come." He gasped, persistently ignoring the throbbing in his temples. Camille's cruel smile danced in his vision and he squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pain struck him.

"He lied, Magnus. That's what royalty does. His sister is far more important to him than you are. Why would he return for a man who is cursed to die?" Her voice was soft but every word stabbed him like a knife through his very core. Magnus shifted and inhaled sharply, the sickly sweet scent of roses filling his nostrils.

"Sleep." The enchantress waved her hand and Magnus' eyes rolled back in his head, darkness swallowing him whole.

-

"Magnus! Magnus!" Something was wrong. The air was too still, the castle too dark. No lights burned in the windows, no lamps lit in the courtyard. The iron gates were flung open, the clasps shattered and broken.

"No." Catarina breathed, her hands flying to her mouth.

"We're too late." Ragnor murmured, voice heavy with despair. He stalked forward, swinging his cane violently, black eyes searching the gardens.

The roses still bloomed from their bushes, red as blood. Their fragrance filled the air as they walked past them.

"The Lightwood boy didn't come for him." Catarina said sadly as they surveyed the silver bench that sat sadly in the gardens. All around them, the ground was scattered with rose petals, red and white.

She bent and picked up the carved mirror that Camille had likely torn from Magnus' grasp and turned it over.

Ragnor peeked over her shoulder as she spoke aloud, "show me Magnus Bane."

The mirror shimmered and an image of a young man, lying in a bed with a red rose clutched in his hand, rippled into existence.

"He is for Camille now," Catarina mumbled sorrowfully, stroking the image with a finger. Ragnor's lips tightened and he was about to speak when they heard the calls.

"Magnus! I'm here! Where are you?" They were faint and distant, as if the caller was inside the castle. Turning his head, Ragnor saw the black horse pawing restlessly in the courtyard, reins dropped in front of its nose.

"The Lightwood boy." He growled, spinning around. The great doors of the palace swung open just as he approached them, a young man running out towards him.

His hazel eyes looked lost and confused, his hair matted with rain. He swept a hand through his drenched locks before his eyes lit upon Ragnor and a smile touched them.

"Ragnor! Where's Magnus?" He gasped, stumbling over to him. Ragnor stared, Catarina coming to stand beside him.

"You're too late. He is Camille's now." The changes in the boy's expression was drastic, despair and agony flirting across his face in quick succession. He squeezed his hands into fists, drawing Catarina's eyes to the mirror in his hands.

"That can't be. I...I promised. I promised I would set him free!" He nearly shouted, knuckles so white that she was afraid he would hurt himself. She reached out a hand to soothe him, fingers curling around his wrist gently.

"She took him to her castle, across the Wastelands." Ragnor watched the boy's expression carefully, a tiny trickle of hope lighting up his features.  

"Do you know the way?" The Lightwood boy looked determined, hope sliding like a mask over his face. He looked at them pleadingly, holding onto his magic mirror like a lifeline.

Ragnor shook his head, with mouth set into a grim line.

"If you wish to go, I can only show you to an old woman who may know the way. The journey will be long, and arduous. And you may still lose him." He warned, though somewhere in his heart, he knew no one could dissuade him.

"Alec, it will be dangerous." Catarina said quietly, seeing the determined look on the prince's face.

Alec Lightwood shook his head. He held out his mirror.

"Show me."