This is a death story, a what-if ficlet set in 219. What if it went down differently? What if they were less lucky, fighting the Forsaken in the cemetery?
The first one is of Isabelle Lightwood. She’s looking at the camera seriously and
determinedly. One of her hands is on her shoulder. Her hair falls in curls over the other shoulder. She is wearing her snake whip bracelet and her ruby necklace. The background is a dark pink.
The second image is of Clary Fray. She’s looking at the camera fiercely. Her arms are crossed. Her hair falls over one of her shoulders. The background is a dark pink.]
“Some people are uniquely suited to be parabatai,” said Magnus. “Born to it, you might say. People think it’s about getting along, about always agreeing, being in sync. It’s not. It’s about being better together. Fighting better together. Alec and Jace haven’t always agreed, but they’ve always been better together.”
“It has been spoken of often to me,” Jem said in his soft voice, “how much the two of you were dedicated to each other. The manner in which you have always stood up for each other and put the other first. When a parabatai bond is true, when the friendship runs deep and honest, it can be … transcendent.”
