Distant Fires of Heaven (The Malevolent Sacrifices #1)

Epilogue: A Narrative of Alexandra Céline Herondale

I was 17 years old. I attended the Shadowhunter Academy with my younger brother, Stephen. It was his idea to drag me along, to get me involved in this idea of his.
I was never liked among shadowhunters. I never knew why, I just knew that I wasn't like my other siblings. I wasn't born with extra angel blood. I simply was just an average fighter. I didn't have my father's charm and wit or my mother's grace and beauty. I was an outlier. Never did I think I belonged to the Herondale family.
But I still loved them. I loved my parents as much as I loved my siblings, even if I was the only child without extra angel blood it didn't matter to me. What mattered was being with them, which is why when I met Adaon, I thought I'd be able to spend more time with them.
My family was constantly praised for their abilities but I was always ignored, shoved into the shadows. If I could hold power by being Adaon's wife in Faerie, I could hold power— a power that no one would ignore me for. I could be just as important as my family, maybe even more.
I will say, that it was a smart idea for me to come to the Academy. I could sneak into the trees of Brocelind, call on Adaon, we can talk for hours. The idea was like a blooming jasmine in my mind.
Every day after dinner, I snuck out to this little clearing I found about 3 miles from the academy. There, I'd cut open my palm and close my eyes, calling upon Adaon. We were tied by our blood. It was a ritual he showed me after we met for the 3rd time. It's so I can always call upon him when I needed him most— which being in love, meant I constantly needed him.
I had been at the academy for a year, already known as the defective Herondale, the one that didn't matter. I didn't look like either of my parents, my hair white as the plaster of the academy walls, my eyes the color of rushing water, an icy blue. I was told I looked like the Morgenstern I probably was, deep underneath I had a bit of Valentine in my blood. That one day I'd rise and become a menace to shadowhunters. Little did I know how right they were.
The only friend I had was Damien Ravenscar, an Dutch boy with deep skin and bright green eyes. He once told me about how his family now lives in Idris after the Amsterdam Institute had been shut down years ago— the excuse of there simply not being enough Shadowhunters to run it. But even he didn't know my secret. I didn't confide my heart to anyone here at the Academy. No one could be trusted.
It was the 15 of March. Nights were still chilly, although daytime would peak in the low 60s. I still walked around campus wearing my long sleeve winter gear, although many were already wearing their short sleeves. I hadn't spoken to my brother for over two weeks now. He's a first year student here, so he worked with the first years. We rarely saw each other.
The students all gathered in the mess hall for dinner. I took this as my opportunity to sneak out to find Adaon, for I felt his pull towards me.  I could feel his blood tethered to me, dragging me in his direction.
Sneaking out had not been the problem, but the chill of the night air left my skin covered in goosebumps.
I knew the path quite well. Climb over three fallen trees, find and follow orange leaves, for it'll take me to the clearing and to Adaon.
My boots slipped over the fallen trees with ease, my hands guiding me through Brocelind forest.
It was pitch dark for the sun settled early until March 21, when Daylight Savings Time starts.
I reached the clearing in a matter of 10 minutes. Adaon waited for me patiently, adjusting his gloves as I came towards him.
"Adaon." I said softly. He came forward and kissed me, drawing the shape of my mouth with his tongue. It was pure elegance. Everything about Adaon was elegant, at least to me.
"I have come up with a proposition for you my love, for a way our souls will knit as the stars knit into the night sky. We can be one together, if you care to listen." He ran his gloved hand across my collarbone. I felt the cool of the night on my skin. I knew I was cold, but it didn't matter to me. Adaon is who matters.
"Tell me." I smiled taking his hands. "Tell me so I can be with you."
"We can make descendants." His eyes echoed pure joy. "We can make them as powerful as me, if not even more. Soldiers who can bear runes and hold the key to my crown. Faerie can be protected. It'll be perfect."
"Adaon." I was stunned. I had not expected him to ask this of me. "But I am not a powerful nephilim." Why I said that? I do not know. I did not want to carry a child so young. But for Adaon, maybe I would.
"We can make you powerful, right now. Come with me back to Faerie. We can marry, we can-"
I silenced him with a kiss. "My brother is here. He will notice my absence."
Stephen visited me every night, precisely at 9:15pm. If I was not there, he'd grow suspicious of me.
"I will bring you back." Adaon said. I shook my head.
"It isn't going to work. You know time works different in Faerie. I could be gone for days, weeks, maybe even a year... but you knew that." I sighed. "You can't trick me. I know your tricks."
"It could have worked." His lip pulled up in the corner.
"Maybe if we had just met. But we've known each other for awhile." I ran my fingers over his skin. "I can find a way to be powerful for you. That way when we do marry, when we do have children, they'll be breathtaking. I'll be breathtaking."
Adaon left me that night to think of ideas, to pull together a plan for us.
After Stephen visited me, I searched through the Academy Library for any stories of my grandfather, Valentine Morgenstern. I did not know much, only that he acquired a taste to make himself powerful. I attended to make myself more powerful than he.
I did find history on The Circle, of Valentine's uprising. But it wasn't what I needed. I did not need to create a group of people to follow me.
He gave my parents their extra angels blood. All I needed was something similar.
That was when I found it. A book of demons. I read of Lucifer, of Satan and Beezlebub. I found a page on summoning and it was like fireworks going off in my mind. The anxiety of having to wait until nightfall to cast it made me rambunctious. I expressed to Damien my excitement for something I was working on, he then grew worried at my sudden emotion.
"You never show emotion at all!" He exclaimed to me. "I'm so happy this has you in such a good mood!"
Stephen even took notice of my mood. He said to keep this emotion, that'll it heighten the mood of our family, too. He then smiled and hugged me.
That night I crept to Brocelind plains, a place where I could do summoning without the fear of catching trees on fire. If this worked, if I could convince a prince of hell to give me a power, any power, then I can be with Adaon. I can give him powerful children. We can be a family that is better than my Herondale bloodline. I'll never be called weak again.
I carried a book bag on my shoulders. If I hadn't held the strength of my nephilim race, I would not have been able to carry it. My bag was packed and weighed several pounds.
I brought candles with me, placing them in spots where the points of a pentagram will be on fire. I also brought salt with me, dumping it along the grass to create the star.
I lit the candles with a lighter, then pulled out the massive book in which it taught me how to summon.
The spell was in pure Latin, an old script of a twisting tongue and a conjunction of metaphor.
The candle flames flared as I spoke. I felt a draft of wind flow through me, my white hair whipping behind my head as if I were sailing through an ocean with high winds.
The dirt on the ground stirred up in a cloud of dust, my vision growing hazy. I felt something coil through me, whip through my body as if I had been stung by 1000 bees.
Alas the pentagram I created caught fire, the salt crystallizing into obsidian rock, trapping whatever hellish prince erupted from his dimension.
Usually this would be Warlock's work, being able to summon demons and greater demons, but whatever I was using had been enough to call upon a prince of hell. Maybe this had been the power I ever so believed not to have.
Slowly, I closed the book, seeing smoke drift up to the starry sky as if looking for a calling during this strange time of night.
I felt unsure of myself yet quite proud at what I had done. Now all I needed to do was find a way to obtain a magic I could give my children, although that wouldn't be for at least 10 years. In the meantime, I could practice using them. I could see what I could do, maybe even hunt rogue downworlders with them. I'd love to show the nephilim back at the academy my strength.
The smoke started to clear and I took notice of a shape, a human shape. I could see hands, legs and what looked like a pair of boots. At the top of the figure, I saw what looked like a crown and little horns on each side of his head.
When the smoke truly cleared, my voice felt as if we're a distant thing, something not even I could reach.
The prince was beautiful, truly a work of Hell's finest genes. His cheekbones were ravishingly carved as well as his jawline. His eyes bore the color of the night sky, such a dark blue they were almost black. The sheen of his skin was a tint of blue. I thanked the far-sighted rune on my arm as I saw the slight speckle of scales on the outside of his hands. I wondered if the rest of him bore the scales but I was slightly dissatisfied by the armor he wore. It covered most of his skin.
His tiny horns flexed as he rose his eyebrows at me. Some of his hair fell in front of his face, locks of pure white— just like my hair.
"Why do you call on me?" His voice sounded like the roughness of thorns against the bark of a tree. It drew me in for sure.
I wasn't sure where this sudden longing arose out of me. But as I gazed upon him, my mind fixed itself in wonders of what it'd be like to be close to him, to be besides a Prince of Hell. Did it have better power than standing beside a King of Faerie?
"Answer me." His voice rumbled. "You've taken me from the middle of something rather important, so speak girl-" Dawning on the realization of who I was, the runes on my arm, his lips coiled, completely revolted by me. "I don't bid my time with nephilim-"
"Wait." I said before I could stop myself. "I need something from you."
He raised a hand. "Don't speak to me that way. I am not a tool for you, I am someone you should fear."
"And I want to be someone who can be feared." I hissed. I hadn't realized the sudden anxiety in my veins or the need for him to listen to me. This need of mine completely overwhelmed me.
The prince stopped himself from continuing on and instead only smiled. A simple, pleasant smile. So I continued on.
"I'm willing to make a bargain with you. I know princes of hell have a gift, something a bit darker than warlock magic. I'd like for you to give me power, something that I can make others fear me for." I swallowed the lump in my throat. The prince eyed me for a moment.
"I've never heard of someone wanting demonic powers, especially not a nephilim. Well, there was a few souls who dabbled with it, though both died." He sighed.
"Those were my relatives, if we're talking of the same people. Valentine and Sebastian Morgenstern. My Grandfather and my Uncle." I said.
"So I see." He looked as if he were admiring me. Maybe he was. "I have something in mind for you, though it'll cost you."
"I expected that." I admitted. "What do you want from me in return?"
"In order to do the spell, I'll need you to give up your soul. It'll make the power grow into a strength not even your seraphs of heaven can stop." The prince put his hand to his chin, thinking deeply, at least it's what I thought he to be doing.
I toyed with the idea of giving up my soul. I know I'd lose any emotional tie I've had to anybody, becoming basically a vessel to carry around.
In the end, wouldn't it be worth it? I'd keep my promise to Adaon. I'd birth him his children, I'd prove my own strength to the shadowhunters, maybe even my family wouldn't have to look at me as a disgrace.
I could fake my emotions. It'd be simple enough especially when I never showed them much anyways.
It'd be worth it. Adaon was worth it.
"I'll give you my soul." I said with as much courage as I could muster.
The prince grinned. "Good. What is your name?"
"Alexandra but I tend to be called Lexa."
"What do you prefer?" He asked tilting his head.
"I don't know. I've never thought about my name before. It's just a name." My voice sounded small in my ears.
"I like the name Lexa." He admitted. My cheeks betrayed me as I flushed.
"What is your name?" I asked solemnly.
The prince's mouth curled into a smile, a smile I found irresistible. "Leviathan. My name is Leviathan."
"What would you prefer I call you, Leviathan?"
"Levi. I like the name Levi."
"Alright then. I suppose we have a deal, Levi." I said softly.
"I suppose we do."