Winter Blooms (Alec Lightwood)

🗝 Chapter Twenty-One 🗝

"Varian."

The voice speaking was not a familiar one, or even an accent that he could place. It was almost as if dozens of people spoke at the same time, their voices meshing together to form this voice. It was pleasant, if not for the underlying tone of fear inducing threat.

"Varian."

I'm here.

He moved his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and for just a moment he panicked.

"It is good to finally meet you Warlock." The voice continued, a mirage image beginning to form in front of the small Warlock. Varian's face lit up, the image was Ithuriel, the angel of strength and protection sat in front of him. "I see you recognize me."

Varian nodded excitedly, the only form of acknowledgment that he was able to provide in his voiceless state.

His baba had been a stickler for him accepting and understanding the full extent of his what his birth as a Shadowhunter meant, recognizing Angels by form was one of the things his father ingrained in him.

"You have caused quite the uproar in heaven, both you and your sister." It did not seem proper to apologize, so Varian kept his face blank, looking up to the Angel and motioning for him to continue. "They call for your death, and yours sisters loss of her runes, her memories., what has turned her into the Shadowhunter that she is today."

Varian shook his head, taking a step closer to the angel, not missing the way his skin seemed to burn the closer he got to the Angel's form. The call for his death was not as much of a shock to him, but rather the idea that the Angel's of Heaven would be as cruel to take away what made someone so uniquely them.

He wanted to protest, but Ithuriel just laughed.

"I certainly agree with them." Ithuriel turned, the movement giving Varian the chance to survey the entirety of the man's wings. "Your existence poses a threat to the natural order of things, your sisters not so much. But I will not be the one to kill you, but rather, I will help you. You shall return to Earth, with your magic and your sisters memories intact. There is so much more headed your way Varian Bane, and I believe that only you, and those you call family, can bring about the saving of the world."

Varian felt honored, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing over ever so slightly. The comfort in knowing that he would not be struck down by the Archangel was only slightly helpful in his gratitude.

"Varian." The Warlock straightened up when Ithuriel called him by name. "You must not harm that Shadowhunter boy, let nothing come between the two of you." The Angel waved a hand in front of his face delicately, as if motioning to something that he could see, "I cannot glean a future on that path."

I promise, Angel Ithuriel.

Once again Varian bowed, the action seemed to please the Angel.

"Then go in safety." Ithuriel reached out, pressing his hand to Varian's forehead. He closed his eyes.

~~~

When he opened them, the ceiling of the Institute sat above him, all the words of the world coming into his ears slightly muffled. The familiar voice of his panicked boyfriend trying to gain his attention all to familiar as he held him close.

Images of the strange place he had been in flashed through his mind, he groaned loudly. "Alec?"

"Oh by the Angel you have to stop doing that!" Alec's voice rose a few pitches, he pulled the Warlock closer to his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and muttering a thank you for him being alright.

The next few minutes was a blur as he tried to figure out exactly what had happened. His memory of the room and the angel strong in his mind, his memory of the events that took place inside the Institute a complete blank.

"You sent the sword away." The recount of the story was a rapid one as Alec helped Varian to his feet and into the Ops center, already repairs of the sick and injured was underway, so many Shadowhunters had been lost.

A woman stands in the middle of the room, radiating power. Varian had never seen her before.

"Where did I send it?" His voice was light as he spoke, as his mind wasn't fully there yet.

Alec laughed a dry laugh, pulling Varian close by the waist and wrapping his arms around him. "You're suppose to know that." The comfort that Varian found in Alec's arms was significant.

And suddenly the world was alight in color.

Flashes of blue and of yellow and of black, the air filling with the emotions of other. Varian let out a laugh of pure bliss as he pulled back from Alec. "It's back!" His hand motioned to the air surrounding them, it took a moment for Alec to recognize his meaning, but the second he did his face lit up.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a commanding voice.

"Lightwood!" The woman in question was the woman that Varian had previously acknowledged as standing in the middle of the room. She crossed the Ops floor, her hands crossed across her chest as she did. "Where is the Soul Sword?"

Her tone was accusing, and before Alec could speak, Varian stepped forward. "I sent it away."

The woman's attention turned to him, he bristled under her gaze. "Who are you? Where did you send it?"

Varian paused, unsure of both responses. His hesitation to answer seemed to displease the woman. He spoke quickly, and softly. "I am Varian Bane, son of the High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane. I do not know where I sent it, but it is safe nonetheless."

The woman scoffed, the air around her turning grey with distrust. "You sent it away, and yet you don't know where." She looked him up and down. "You're that twin, Clarissa Fairchild's twin. How can I be sure that you are not in league with your father?"

Anyone else would already know the answer, but Varian hesitated once again.