The Aftermath Chronicles: A TMI FanFic

Part 19

The evening of Alec's funeral, Jocelyn returned back to Idris.

Clary listened from the living room as she spoke with Luke in the kitchen.

"We can't find Charles," Jocelyn said. "We searched. We set tracking runes. We even interrogated a few warlocks. But he's just gone."

"How are the Lightwoods?"

"Isabelle is still missing--" Clary had heard that. "--Robert is putting on a good face. I haven't seen Maryse but it's safe to assume she's a wreck. I wouldn't be surprised if she resigns."

"From the New York Institute?" There was a pause. "And Jace?"

"I brought him back and left him in the Penhallow's care."

"We could have taken him, Jocelyn."

"And what about Clary? Does he really want to see her? Does she even want to see him?"

"She's just been upstairs this whole time," Luke said, quietly.

"It's a life of death," Jocelyn sighed. "This is exactly what I was trying to keep from her."

"I know," Luke said. "But death is going to happen in the mundane world too. It's still a shame."

Clary left the living room, retreating back upstairs.

She fell onto her bed, curling up into a ball.

She couldn't cry anymore; her eyes were dry.

There was a knock at the door seconds later.

"Yeah?" Clary called, trying to put on her most cheerful voice.

"I'm back." It was her mother.

"Oh, hey--" The door opened. Clary sat up, turning around.

"How are you?" Jocelyn asked.

"I'm doing okay," Clary said. "Did you find anything out?"

Jocelyn shook her head.

"Do you have something for tonight?"

"I'm sure there's something around here," Clary said, patting the trunk of clothes at the foot of the bed. They had all once belonged to Amatis.

"Alright." Jocelyn left.

There was an hour til sundown, when Alec was set to be cremated. So she got up, dressing in a simple white top and tight white pants. The top had red buttons down the front. 

Luke and Jocelyn were waiting downstairs.

"Are you ready?" Luke asked.

Clary didn't respond; she just continued out the door.

The city of Alicante seemed to be participating in a mass exodus. Everyone was exiting the city, walking out to Alec's funeral pyre.

Clary spent the entire trip looking for Jace but she couldn't find him. Even if she did, what would she say?

I'm sorry your best friend is dead?

Jocelyn and Luke were close behind her. Chairs were set up around what appeared to be a table of wood.

A serene looking Alec lay on top of it, arms folded over his chest.

Clary turned to run but Luke caught her, turning her around.

"You need to stay," he whispered. With his arm around her and her face half buried in his chest, the family of three found their seats.

People slowly sat down, some going straight to the front to pay their respects to Alec.