****Harry's POV****

Gold light blooms from his palms as he finishes the final coat for the new blade he was creating. Magnus sat beside him on the couch, the warlock keeping the clientele sitting in front of them busy. As the High Warlock of Alicante, Magnus had expanded his services to a great number of shadowhunters now, which les to a change in what was usually asked of him.

Where clients in New York might have asked for their broken heart to be healed, a potion to cure drunkenness, or a complicated good luck charm, shadowhunters were another story entirely. The nephilim unsurprisingly had different tastes. Some of which included blades with enhanced critical hit rates, healing salves made to repair injuries, and portals to places that could very well be on the other side of the planet.

This led to Harry getting invited over to the Loft to help make some brand new blades. Lucian Graymark sat in front of them. The man that Maryse Lightwood was currently dating had a smile on his face and a drink in hand as he talked. The beard that he had lost after transforming back into a Shadowhunter had slowly grown back, allowing the man to retain that ruggedly handsome look everyone was so used to seeing.

"So, I heard you and Maryse went on a vacation recently. How did that go?" Magnus asked.

Harry listened in on their conversation while he worked, though he was a little too busy to contribute to it much. On the glass table there were already ten blades just like the one he was making now, the pommels of them glinting golden in the light of the fireplace off to the side. The crackling flames were a gentle background noise that was relaxing to here.

"Haha it went well. Maryse wasn't fully on board with it at first, but we did some deep sea diving together. It was pretty amazing, all the aquatic life down there." Luke explained.

"That's wonderful news. Tell me you have pictures." Magnus said hopefully.

"Of course I do. Though the photos we took underwater might be a little blurry." Luke said.

"Nonsense. A little warlock magic should solve that problem." Magnus said. One ring clad finger tapped the photos Luke held out. A burst of blue light bloomed onto each of them, ridding them of blurriness so their clarity was maximized. The two spent a few minutes chatting over them, just enough time for Harry to finish up with the last blade.

"Finished. Tell me what you think Luke." Harry held out the sword to the former werewolf. Luke accepted it easily, his left hand testing the weight of the blade.

"I think it's great. Alec and Magnus didn't tell me that you were a black smith Harry. I must say I'm impressed with your work." Luke told him sincerely.

Harry's wings fluttered behind him at the praise, a grin stretching across his face. How long had it been since his craftsmanship had last been admired? To him, it felt like much too long. So to here these words from Luke made him feel very pleased to say the least.

"Thanks! It's been a long time since I've been able to work on swords. Back when I was Wayland the Smith, I had this massive forge, right in the heart of a volcano. Ah, those were the days." He reminisced.

Harry could still remember the place fondly. His forge had been in the very volcano near the Iron Sister's forge. The place had been scorching hot, but oh so magnificent. The weapons he had made their had been like nothing anyone had seen before. Carson had went with him several times too, her skilled hands making some many masterpieces alongside his own. As his parabatai, and his wife, and someone who had once considered joining the Iron Sisters as a little girl, Carson Whitelaw (eventually Carson Wayland) had been an amazing partner to have. Harry missed her dearly with each year that passed. She would always hold a piece of his heart no matter what, that much was for certain.

"Wait, so you're saying you were THE Wayland the Smith. Are you being serious?" Luke said with shock.

Magnus frowned in confusion. Despite being married to Alec and living in Alicante for a considerable amount of time, it was clear that Shadowhunter history had yet to be ingrained in him.

"I know this question might be out of place, but who exactly is Wayland the Smith? I've met quite a few Waylands in my time, and I can't recall any of them being blacksmiths." Magnus took a sip from his own glass of wine. It was a bit too early for any of the harder stuff the warlock kept in his liquor cabinet. Hence the wine and not whiskey or even vodka.

Luke kept his gaze on Harry. Those brown eyes no longer could turn that shining green gleam they did back when he was a werewolf, but there was still something in the way the Shadowhunter held himself that made him different then the rest. Harry could not place a finger on it, but if he had to make a guess, he would say that the wildness of a wolf would never quite leave Graymark.

"Wayland the Smith is the most famous Shadowhunter blacksmith of all time. Each of the weapons he made are known to be masterpieces. It was said that his legendary forge was in the heart of an ancient volcano. The same volcano the Iron Sisters take lava from when making their own weapons." Luke explained.

"My my," Magnus's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I didn't realize how accomplished you are, young Harrison."

Harry barked out a laugh at that, his shoulders shaking with amusement. "I don't know if I'd still be considered that now....especially since I had to fake my own death." Both Magnus and Luke look startled by that. "Never mind that though, how did you know my real name is Harrison? I haven't been called by my real name in ages."

"Mmm well, it helps that Alec has been remembering some things. Just some little tidbits mind you, but remembering all the same." Magnus took another sip of his drink, the liquid sloshing around in its cup.

"That's good to hear. I wonder how long that process will take. Being alive for so long...he must have a lot to remember. Right Harry?" Luke said.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "He does have a lot to remember." He did not dare mention that not all of those memories were pleasant. Father wasn't the most open about his past, but even Harry knew that there were plenty of things embedded in hidden memory that Alec would likely shy away from.

And then there are things he has yet to learn about, his mind reminded him. Sara's face sprang into his mind, her smile lovely but pained. Harry had been closest to his eldest sister when she was sent flying into the Portal that had sealed her fate. Even knowing that death's clutches were wrapping around her, Sara had still managed to give him a pained smile before falling into an inescapable darkness. It hurt him to remember that smile. Just as it hurt him to think about the white winged nephilim in general.

So much had been lost that day....hopefully I don't have to lose any more....

He had a horrible anxiety building up in his chest that said otherwise.

****Izzy's POV****

Wrangel Island was known for being extremely cold, and surrounded by virtually nothing at all. Such was proven true when she and Clary stepped out of the Portal Magnus had conjured up for them that morning. They had been dropped right outside of the Institute there. A large building that could hardly be seen because of the fiercely whirling snow.

Izzy let out a puff of cold air. The whiteness of her was practically camouflaged against the snowy ground. "I knew I should've dressed warmer." She mutters.

New York was known for having cold winters, this much was true. Wrangel Island however took cold to another level. Isabelle was certain that if she were to have a thermostat in hand the temperature would read in the negative. Her teeth chattered with the frozen air, the warmth draining out of her. Needless to say, Izzy would be glad to leave here as soon as possible.

"C'mon Iz, it could be worse." Clary offers up in an attempt to be positive. Izzy gave her an annoyed glare. Her parabatai had already applied several heat runes to herself in preparation for the chill. She wished she had done the same.

Why in the world did I say I would be fine?

Sighing, she extends a hand out to Clary. "Can you just..." her other hand gestures to the stele on Clary's trim belt. This one was lined with adamas stitching, an extra precaution to prevent the redhead from losing her stele from unwanted demonic grappling.

Clary lets out a small giggle. The navy blue parka she wears swamps her, making it likely from Jace. Her blond brother had visited Wrangel Island last year for the annual world wards check. Yearly maintenance was an important thing, even if it was annoying. At the very least Clary had Jace's clothes to borrow for this annoying event. The couple had reached that stage where sharing clothes came natural to them. Izzy found it adorable, and wished she could do the same with Simon in this case. Unfortunately, her own boyfriend didn't own anything warm enough for this chilling environment, having never been assigned to go to Wrangel Island before.

Well, there's always next year right? Just picturing Simon trying to make jokes in this awful weather put a smile on her face, a bit of warmth returning to her cheeks. Simon Lewis is her dork that's for certain.

"Of course. You only needed to ask." Clary draws three heat runes along Izzy's arm in quick succession. Because of the frigid air, Isabelle can hardly feel the burn of activation, though she can feel the warmth that immediately encompasses her upon activation. The heat pools throughout her, knocking away the numbness of her tired bones.

"Thanks Clary. Now let's get going. Jia would be mad if we were late."

With that in mind, the parabatai walked the mile distance to the Wrangel Island Institute, their boots crunching in the several feet of snow that cover the ground.

***Time Skip***

"Clary! Izzy! So nice to see you again!" Helen's cheerful voice is the first thing Izzy and Clary hear as they walk through the door. With the half fey Shadowhunter is Aline and the Consul, Jia Penhallow. The three of them had seemingly been waiting at the front entrance for the two women to appear.

Helen and Aline look the same as they did the last time Izzy had seen them. The couple was adorned in winter gear, their cheeks a soft pink from the cold. Aline's hair was in slight disarray, a raised pink bump lay near her collarbone that made Isabelle wonder what exactly had caused it. Judging by the slight redness of Helen's and Aline's own lips, she had a good enough idea. Those pointed ears that marked Helen's faerie heritage were easily visible in the artificial lighting of the Institute. The sharp point of them was in place with the lithe grace that Helen Blackthorn possessed, each of her footsteps barely heard as she strode towards them.

"Hey guys! Long time no see!" Izzy pulls both Aline and Helen into a hug that they gladly return. Clary murmurs a similar greeting to their friends and the Consul, getting pulled into the hug a few seconds later by Aline.

They break apart when Jia clears her throat. An expectant look is on the Consul's face, her dark brown eyes as stern as they'd been the last time Isabelle had seen them back at the Accords meeting. Jia looks a little more weathered by years of hard work, a slight tiredness apparent in the way she slightly hunches and the strands of graying hair tucked behind her ears. Izzy wonders why the frown is on the Consul's face now.

Usually she's not like that unless there's something serious going on. The Consul's next words do little to dissuade her concern.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, let's head to the private office. I have much that I need to discuss with you both." Without waiting for a response, Jia turns on her heels and walks off.

"Does she always have to be in such a rush?" Clary asks to no one in particular. The three Shadowhunters were hurriedly following the Consul, not bothering to say anything to the few Shadowhunters they passed along the way.

Aline shrugs. "You'll have to forgive her. When Mom is focused on work, niceties tend to fall to the wayside."

"That, and I'm sure the stress she's feeling can't be helping." Helen muttered, earning an elbow and a stern look from Aline. "What, we both know it's true."

"Yea, but it's best not to worry everyone about it." Aline says with a sigh. Helen frowns at that, but does give a small nod before placing one her hands in Aline's own as they continued walking. The silent apology was there, and luckily it was accepted.

"Wait. Do you two know what exactly is going on?" Izzy asks.

"Yea. Knowing what we're getting into would be nice." Clary agrees.

Aline and Helen share a look. The three were passing by the Ops center now. Like the New York Institute, this place was a large open room, filled with all sorts of monitors. Clary knew from the Codex that these monitors were much more powerful than the ones they had back home. These blue white screens were made for picking up demonic energy all over the globe. There likely wasn't a single demon detection out there that this place wouldn't pick up. It was pretty reassuring to have a place like this. Somewhere that would always know the goings on of the planet Earth, despite being so secluded from the other Institutes.

"It's best if you hear it from the Consul." Helen eventually tells them. Her words cause more worry to muddle around in her brain. Just what exactly was going on?

The anticipation inside her is unable to build for much longer as they walk into the private office. The doors click shut with a tug from Aline. For good measure, Helen draws a locking rune and a silence rune on the door. The runes will prevent anyone from bothering them, or, on a more worrying note, listening in. Izzy finds herself being reminded oddly of a casket. Once the thing was shut closed, no sound would come out of it.

The atmosphere of the room was dead quiet as they found their seats in the leather armchairs in front of the desk Jia sat behind. Red wallpaper colored the room, a few stripes of rich gold running through it. An ornate rug lay in front of the desk, several colors weaved through the threads. Izzy notes what seems to be a courage in combat rune sewn into the middle of the rug. The dragon's head is slightly more detailed then it would be when drawn, a white blue eye stares right back up at her. Helen and Aline take their places behind Jia at the desk that seems to be made out of well-polished cherry wood.

"I'm sure you're both wondering what's going on." Jia begins.

"Yes. That did cross my mind." Izzy agrees.

Sighing, Jia pulls up a hologram from her high tech desk. A map of the world shows up on screen, depicting several red dots that indicate demonic energy. For several reasons, a majority of this energy runs along the Leigh lines, a source of magic for warlocks, fey and demons alike. Izzy notes with a feeling of unease that the New York part of the map is glowing with a massive amount of demonic energy, the light of it so fierce that it seems to almost be like a burgeoning flame.

"After Lilith and Jonathan and Valentine I can safely say that New York has had its fair share of unusually high amounts of demonic incidents. However, those days are long gone now. Seeing as you are in charge of protecting New York, I'd like to know if either of you have any idea what is going on."  The Consul folds her hands on the desk, her brown eyes glinting with the hologram's blue-white light.

"I...we haven't seen anything weird recently. Have we Izzy?" Clary asks her.

Isabelle shakes her head. "The most activity I can recall having in New York as of late was when those Blixer Demons attacked about a month ago. We sent a formal report on how that incident was handled ages ago, so I can't say I have a clue as to what the problem is now." She confesses.

That troubled look on Jia's face deepens. "I was worried you both might say that."

"Consul Penhallow, do you have an idea as to what's going on? Maybe we could help each other." Clary says hopefully. Isabelle appreciates her parabatai trying to bring optimism to the table.

"That's the problem. We don't know what this reading might be. The Shadowhunters that work here say that they usually see these signals either when there is a large demonic horde coming from a rift, or when, well...." Jia trails off.

"Tell them Mom." Aline says. "They need to know."

Jia nods at her daughter before directing her attention back at Izzy and Clary. "The other possibility is that this reading is a precursor to something horrible that is to come. I expect you both to be prepared if that turns out to be the case."

"I" She forced herself to swallow down the worry the Consul's piercing gaze brought forth in her. "Of course Consul Penhallow. We will prepare the Institute right away."

"Great. Feel free to spend the rest of the day here socializing if you'd like. Otherwise, you're both dismissed." And with that the Consul rose from her chair and walked out of the room. Only once the door swung shut did conversation start up again. Questions still whirled around in the air, so many left unanswered for now.