Chapter Text
I’m holding in my breath
And looking at you
As if the world has stopped
Like the passing wind
Even if you don’t see me
My heart goes toward you
Edom was terrifying. It was always hot, too hot to even breathe sometimes. The sky was a bright red, an incandescent flame that would never cease to burn. Day and night were one, stars were nonexistent. Colors like green, blue and pink didn’t exist. Plants were constantly dead, but some tree barks stubbornly resisted as a mockery to the realm. The closest things to animals were the vast species of demons – creatures that wouldn’t hesitate to eat you if showed the smallest sign of weakness.
Magnus hated that place. He missed his homeland, his flowers, the ocean. He missed the annual festivities, the food, people.
He missed his mama so much.
But he had his papa now. The only one in the entire world with cat-eyes like his. So, it should be okay, right? His papa promised to teach him magic.
His papa promised to love him, but Magnus didn’t remember love being so painful.
Asmodeus’ words were always so cruel.
Weak, pathetic, useless.
Be better, be stronger.
Manipulate, hurt, kill.
Disgrace, disgrace.
Nobody will love you. Only me. You only have me.
Magnus was beginning to believe in those words. Sometimes his magic – a beautiful hue of blue that he felt so proud of – would become red. Then purple. There were days it turned black, and those days were the worst, because he could always hear the screams, the pleads, the cries. And Magnus… Magnus was beginning to like that. All that power, all that control.
Darkness felt so good.
However, Magnus was scared. He didn’t want to like it, but during those days his papa smiled and said how proud he was. Surely, it was enough, right?
Most of the time, it was very lonely too. Asmodeus was a busy demon, always being summoned or traveling to other parts of the realm or to another hell dimension. During those days, Magnus was left alone in their big castle. It was also boring. Aside from him and his papa, there were only demons in Edom. Oh, there was auntie Lilith too, but papa hated her, so Magnus wasn’t allowed to visit.
It was during one of Asmodeus’ many trips that Magnus met him.
Being left alone, always meant that some demon would try to kill Magnus. If you can’t even kill an insignificant demon, you deserve to die, his papa would always say. So, Magnus would puff his chest and call his magic, ready for any sudden attack.
Usually, it was very easy. One or two silly edomi trying their luck. But this time, a whole pack of at least twenty edomi surrounded him. Magnus felt scared for the first time. It was too much for him, his magic still improving.
Was he going to die?
“Mama…” he whimpered while hitting another edomi with a fireball. Almost half of them were dead, nothing more than a pool of disgust ichor, but his magic was already depleting. Magnus felt so, so tired. Maybe, if he closed his eyes, it would end fast. He would die without feeling anything.
Thus, he did just that. He closed his eyes and waited.
Waited.
Waited.
But nothing happened.
Opening his eyes slowly, he could see the remnant demons exploding with a silver arrow craved on their heads. The arrows shone with a multitude of colors before disappearing on thin air.
“Are you alright?”
Magnus’ head snapped so fast in the direction of the voice, he almost gave himself whiplash.
Crouching on the top of a rock behind Magnus there was a boy. His skin was very pale, a starch contrast to his ink-black hair and bright hazel eyes. He was holding a bow, also with mesmerizing rainbow colors fluttering around it, until making it disappear with a wave of his hands.
“Who are you?” Magnus asked a bit warily yet hopeful for seeing another kid in that place.
“Uh...” The boy paused, looking hesitant. Then, his eyes sparkled, and he smiled. “Alexander.”
“Is it really?”
“Ugh, okay, no. I don’t have a name actually. Lilith only calls me ‘boy’. I think I can choose a name if I want. You can call me Alec, since it’s shorter,” Alec shrugged while approaching Magnus.
“You live with auntie Lilith?” Magnus blinked, tilting his head a little bit to the side.
“Yeah, my mom didn’t like me, so she sold me to Lilith. I think this is my home now,” Alec worried his bottom lip, glancing at the stained sand near his foot. It wasn’t a happy topic, but it felt good to talk to someone who wasn’t an adult.
Magnus felt sad for that boy. He also hadn’t a mama anymore, so he understood.
“My name is Magnus. I’m six, and I live with my papa in a castle,” then he frowned and nodded, as if coming to a decision. “Alec is cool, but I like Alexander more.” Although his tongue made a little strange curl inside his mouth to pronounce the whole name.
Alec genuinely smiled with that.
“I’m eight, and I live in a castle too. And I very much like your name.”
Magnus beamed, feeling a bubbly, honest happiness since he first came to Edom. Then, something came to his mind and he felt the urgency to ask.
“If you could choose any name, then why Alexander?”
Alec hummed. “I saw in a book at the castle. It means ‘protector’. Since I’m older, I want to protect you, so it’s a perfect name.”
It was the first time blue wisps danced blissfully around Magnus’ small hands.
~*~
Magnus was happy. Even with all the constant danger that loomed over his head – well, when the Shadow World wasn’t at the precipice of doom? – he found himself in a good place after centuries of trials and errors. He had a good job as the High Warlock of Brooklyn, helping all the warlocks in New York to find peace and lead good lives; his home was a big loft with the best view to Brooklyn Bridge, a safe haven to any Downworlder who needed and a welcoming place to any stray cat looking for food and love.
He had good friends – people he could call family. Ragnor, Catarina, Raphael, Tessa. Even the ever blabbering vampire Simon was growing in his heart as one more lost person who needed guidance in a world where all the legends were true.
Hell, he had Shadowhunters as friends. If someone had told Magnus decades before that he was going to be attached to some children of Angels, he would have laughed his ass off and offered for free a potion against madness. But here he was, covering and helping a small group that followed him like ducklings. Sure, they always wanted to ask for some favor, but they were good people. Finally a generation of Nephilim that was trying to be better and not the bigoted assholes of their ancestors.
There were four in particular.
First, Clary and Jonathan Fray. During Valentine Morgenstern’s fall, Jocelyn Fairchild was able to escape with her two kids with the help of Luke Garroway. It was a hard time, especially knowing that Valentine had experimented on both children, but with love and patience, Clary and Jonathan thrived as incredible warriors. Jonathan learned that demon blood wasn’t an excuse for bad behavior, and after a lot of training and meditation, he got control of any evil urge and focused his strength in helping the weak.
Then, there was Jonathan’s parabatai, Jonathan Christopher Herondale. Magnus didn’t remember any other parabatai pair with the same name, but it wasn’t really a surprise seeing how attached to the hip the two boys were since Jace was rescued from Valentine’s claws. And it wouldn't be a surprise too if they ended up becoming brothers-in-law in the future – Jace was head over heels for Clary, and even if Jonathan denied, Magnus could see that the couple had the boy’s blessing.
At last, Isabelle Lightwood, the elder child of Maryse and Robert Lightwood. If being friends with Valentine’s children was already a hell of development, the unexpected scenario of liking and shopping with a Lightwood was a whiplash. Isabelle was a delight, and the best head the New York Institute ever had.
Yes, Magnus was happy.
But there was still a void in his chest, a hole where the other half of his heart should be.
He missed his Alexander.
Over the centuries, Magnus had a lot of lovers, but none was able to fill that part of himself that was missing.
When he arrived at the mortal realm on that fateful day, he felt lost. It didn’t matter how many plans he and Alec had made – without the other warlock, nothing made sense. And oh, Magnus tried so many times to go back there. To rescue his love, or to accept a life in hell if it meant staying with the only person who mattered. But he couldn’t – something was blocking him. He couldn’t understand, and many times that angered him. Why, why Alec pushed him? They were supposed to fight together, side by side. Not… Not…
Magnus also hoped that Alec would come someday. After three centuries, he certainly was powerful enough to make a portal and leave Edom. But Alec never came, and that hurt Magnus even more. Did he give up on them? No, Alec would never do that, Magnus was sure. During the first century, Magnus summoned demons to have news of Alec, but it was always in vain. They knew nothing – it was as if Alec had disappeared from the Universe.
Magnus’ heart hurt. After another century, it was only radio silence from Edom, and Magnus eventually stopped trying. His friends told him it wasn’t healthy, and he needed to move on.
He touched the omamori charm he always carried with him in his pocket. Alec’s magic was still there – very faint – but he could still feel it. It was the only thing he had to keep his shattered heart from scattering for good. His only hope.
“Magnus?” Izzy’s voice cut through the fog of reminiscence, and Magnus blinked a bit confused.
Ah, yes, he was in a meeting with everyone in the Ops Center of the Institute.
“Are you okay?” Clary asked, touching his forearm.
Magnus exhaled, pushing all the pain to the depths of his core, and brought out his happy, charming persona to pretend casualness and lightness.
“Apologies, I’ve spent so much time here today that all these flickering screens are beginning to distract me,” he waved a hand gracefully, giving a cheeky smile to Izzy and Clary – which earned a snort from Jace and a frown from Jonathan.
“Do you want to wrap up for today?”
“No, no. Let’s continue. We have to find a way to stop those attacks before more people die.”
Valentine was back. It took some weeks, but the mad Shadowhunter wasn’t shy on his comeback, and a gruesome slaughter of Downworlders started. Kidnappings, threats, murders. Magnus had to reinforce the Institute’s wards since it was also clear that Valentine wanted to get his hands on his ex-wife and kids. On top of that, he was looking for the three Mortal Instruments.
Magnus suspected that a warlock was helping him. A very powerful one – which, honestly, was very confusing. Everyone knew about Valentine’s experiments on Downworlders, and how some could do anything the Circle leader demanded due to his injections. A young or weak warlock could fall easily on his hands, but a strong one? Why help a sadistic man to destroy their own race?
If Magnus caught this warlock, he would personally send him to the Spiral Labyrinth to get the heaviest sentence.
It was infuriating how he wasn’t able to track that bastard’s magic or rip their wards. Last time he tried to get to a warehouse where a pack of werewolves was being kept, he almost depleted his magic just to make a damn hole. Dark magic was always a delicate issue and hard to break through, and he refused to tap on that deep part of his core where his demonic self was hidden. It would give him a boost of power, yes, but it wasn’t worth losing himself in the process.
Alec had taught him that.
Oh, well.
Suddenly, the Institute’s alarms blared, angry red lights flashing all around.
“There is a distress call from the City of Bones. They are under attack,” Underhill informed, and a shocked gasp escaped the lips of some Shadowhunters. The Silent Brothers had some of the most powerful wards, how the hell someone was able to put them down?”
“It’s Valentine. He must be after the Soul Sword,” Jace clenched his teeth, his runes already activating by themselves and ready for action.
“Get ready, we are going there in five,” Izzy commanded, her eyes quickly going through the screens to gather all the images provided by the cameras’ feed around the sanctuary. For a moment, Magnus swore he caught the glimpse of a tall man, hidden in a heavy black cloak and surrounded by dark wisps, in a corner near the entrance. By the way his hands were moving, he might be the warlock he was looking for.
And oh, Magnus would catch him.
It was a carnage. All the Silent Brothers were dead, each in a more gruesome way than the other. Magnus was certain that he could hear a Shadowhunter in the back throwing up. He could feel the telltale of dark magic in the air – one that caused goosebumps even on him.
Strange. It felt familiar somehow, but wrong.
When they arrived at the last chamber, where the Soul Sword was kept, the stench of blood and burned flesh were even worse – as if the corpses were already at an advanced stage of decomposition. At the far end, Valentine Morgenstern held the Soul Sword without any care in the world, the victorious grin of a mad man painted on his face.
Magnus and the Shadowhunters moved at the same time to reach him, but an invisible force threw them back. Taking a moment to get to their feet again, they saw another figure present there – the same one Magnus saw before, covered by a cloak and circled by dark magic.
“Why are you helping him?!” Magnus shouted, angry red magic flaring from his fists.
The only answer he got was Valentine’s laugh.
Then, chaos ensued.
Circle members appeared from all directions, ready to kill the Shadowhunters. Magnus, however, focused only on the warlock. He attacked first, sending a blast of fire towards their mysterious enemy. The warlock evaded with ease, promptly attacking back with his own black fireball.
The walls started to tremble, cracks formed on the floor.
Circle members fell one by one, but unfortunately some backup Shadowhunters too. In the end, the only enemies left were Valentine – who was totally, annoyingly at ease as if his victory was something granted – and the warlock.
“This was fun, but unfortunately I still have things to do, so playtime is over.” He sheathed the Soul Sword on his back and turned to the warlock. “Let’s go.”
The warlock waved a hand and a portal formed behind Valentine’s back, letting him go first. When he was about to follow, Magnus made a last desperate attempt.
He hit the warlock square on the head, burning the hood to a crisp and revealing his face.
A face Magnus hasn’t seen for centuries.
“No.”
The warlock turned in their direction, magic cracking around him, demonic eyes without an ounce of emotion.
“No, no.”
He was different from the last time they saw each other. His shoulders were broader, his features were sharper, there was stubble on his face and his messy hair was a bit longer, almost covering his eyes – ah, the eyes… the warm hazel gone.
Nonetheless, he still was Alexander. His Alexander.
Magnus’ knees buckled and he fell hard on the stone floor, shock written all over his face.
“What happened to you?”
Again, there was no answer. Only an indifferent stare, and then Alec was gone.