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24 days left

Unexpectedly, Laressa had fallen asleep, but she was sucked into nightmare after nightmare. When her eyes could finally open, she lay panting, just as she heard echoes of laughter through the walls. Ares’.

She had no doubts whatsoever that Ares wouldn’t pass his Trials. However, a tickle of anger was there. Here everyone was celebrating while Zachary was somewhere—maybe even dead.

***

“Maybe he’d seriously stick this time round.” Pablo said, a quick supper already placed on the table.

“And there’d be a happy ending.” Added Chantelle half-jokingly, spinning a bagel round with her hand.

Ares chuckled, partly because he thought it was oddly funny that he sounded like an experiment when they talked about him.

“Why does Channy get the last legit bagel?” He joked.

“Too bad.” Chantelle said, continuously spinning the bagel. But her momentum was wrong, and it landed squarely in Ares’ hand.

“Score.” He snatched the bagel up. Suddenly, Ares’ face turned grim. “I’m going to go talk to Laressa.”

***

Zachary woke momentarily to whispers. All he could think was that his brother—someone he trusted—did this to him.

“You never thought of me as a brother. In your eyes the only brother you had was Ares. He was someone I could not be, and so you fled to him.” That was what Andre told him. Zachary’s eyes had shot open. He was so surprised at Andre’s words, and searched for comfort, to tell himself that it wasn’t true, but he could find nothing. Maybe it was the truth. That he always had Ares, Ares was a part of him, closer than his brother, almost his parabatai, but Andre was just his brother. Whenever something happened, Zachary would call out for Ares, for their ages were closer, and he always knew Ares was capable, along with Chantelle, capable enough to account for all of them. Yet Zachary never thought Andre would think that.

He let his eyes drift close.

***

Ares knocked twice before entering. Laressa’s head was away from the door, and Ares had the feeling she was awake.

“Laressa?”

There was silence at first. “Why? Shouldn’t you be celebrating, Ares Shadowhunter?” Her voice was cold and low, a frightening sound to Ares. He never seen her like this. Usually, Laressa was bright and a strong, feisty girl. Even when she was angry, she’d be off hunting demons, or at least attempting to toss people out of her room. She was never like this.

“Laressa? Are you sick?”

Laressa laughed unbelievingly. “Thank you for your concern.”

He shook his head, unsure of why Laressa was acting like that. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Who says I need your help?”

“Funny. Maybe it’s because you’re lying in bed crying.” He sputtered, before realising that was probably not the most productive line of conversation. Laressa’s reaction was immediate. She spun over, now sitting up, and a slap landed on Ares’ right cheek.

For a while, Ares just gaped. Laressa’s lashes were shining, tears running off her pale face, eyes red.

“Laressa… you’re crying?”

She half-heartedly brushed her hand across her face, looking away. “Zachary is gone okay? So don’t expect me to be fine.”

Ares sprung up. “Gone? What do you mean gone?”

“Kidnapped. Probably by his brother.”

Ares pounded down the steps.

***

“Why did no one tell me Zach was missing?” He shouted as he raced for his weapons.

Chantelle stood up. “Oh yeah, about that…”

“How could you all just sit here and not care? And Chantelle, shouldn’t you be telling it to me instead of Laressa?”

Chantelle was caught off guard. “We thought we would celebrate…”

“And not care about Zachary?” He glared at her, a glare so cold Chantelle stopped in her tracks. He never looked at her like that before. “Where’s the Chantelle who’d sacrifice for her friends, who was the most logical person I knew, logical enough for the both of us and would understand the importance of saving one another? Even if it calls for a celebration, the original you would have gone alone by now.”

That Chantelle did not like very much. “I didn’t change, and what makes you think I would do just that?” She glared back, challenging him.

“Because… because you were like me.” His look softened, the wall he built around him penetrated. With that, he left.

Chantelle stood gaping after Ares, her face burning. He used the word “were”. She was still like him for that matter, right. As if the answer would be scribbled on the others’ faces, she looked at them. “To be honest, Ares is right.” Said Pablo quietly. He set his cup down, reaching to equip and adjust his gear. Marissa seemed to agree, getting herself prepared.

Chantelle whirled around. “Fine, go after him.”

Pablo told Marissa to get Laressa, his face serious as Chantelle headed to the training room, shoulders dropped.

***

Laressa sat, duvet laying on the floor, recovering from the previous turn of events.

“Get ready. We’re heading out for Zachary.” Marissa threw open the door, and Laressa’s face lit up immediately. She swung over quickly, racing for her gear, sad she had shed it all for a woollen sweater, black thermal top and shorts. Marissa helped get some of Laressa’s weapons as she curled the whip around her hand tightly, her mandatory fighting weapon.

“Ares headed first. He had a tiff with Chantelle.” Updated Marissa as Laressa tied up her dark black hair into a bun.

“It isn’t very hard to hear from my room.” Eyed Laressa, sliding her knives in, and sliding a gun into a pouch at the back of her gear, hidden by her thermal top.

“A gun? That’s a change of personality.” Marissa noted. Even with the advanced technology, Shadowhunters barely carried guns, sticking to weapons such as seraph blades, bows and arrows, et cetera. The gun Laressa had was equipped with bullets that were somehow inscribed with miniature runes by the Iron Sisters, though little damage can be done as compared to seraph blades and the whip she had that stayed in the Lightwood family.

The side of Laressa’s mouth quirked up. “People change.”

***

Back in the training room, Chantelle angrily threw knives at the target, one by one landing on the bullseye. The bullseye was filled, and the next knife bounced off.

But with each knife thrown, she felt a surge of anger towards herself too. Ares was right. What had she become?

She looked down at her hands, feeling panic rush through her veins. This wasn’t her. Her thoughts were not forming clearly, not analysing and planning one step at her, as she normally did. What’s the plan? She imagined her friends asking her.

This time… this time there was no plan.

She felt this emptiness all this while, something she failed to identify, but now she knew. She was normally always thinking, thinking of a plan, thinking of her friends, thinking of others who needed help. Now… now she stopped. It was as if stopping her heartbeat, losing her purpose. She pulled out the knives, reaching for her sanity.

She had learnt all this while that the power of warlocks and demons is not quite defined yet, their boundaries seem to be endless. Power that has not been summoned before is bound to exist, and no one knew what they could achieve, and she was talking about those with even more experience than those like Magnus Bane, who has lived for so long it seems only he can remember. There was a possibility this power could change and control Shadowhunters, despite the rituals done after birth. But she felt as though this was merely an excuse she had made up. Right now, she wanted to settle this.

As she slid her remaining knife into her belt, she felt a question linger in her head, haunting her.

What have I become?