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   Chapter 19 Confrontation is the Name of the Game

A Hidden Past By Grace Estellar Characters: 40253

Updated: 2019-10-09 12:02


****Magnus's POV****

He looks around the house with mild curiousity as Armando leads him to what he presumes to be the living room. Unsurprisingly, the home is decorated with a sparse few decorations. A few pictures hang up on the walls, depicting landscapes that Magnus recognizes to be that of the Venice, the Australian outback, and a beach somewhere in America. The walls are white, the side tables down the hall a rustic brown. Two arm chairs are placed nearby each other in the color of burgundy with a fine satin trimming.

It is not until he arrives in the living room that Magnus feels utter surprise.

Gold hinged wooden doors swing out into a spacious room as Armando leads Magnus in. The den is cozy, with a cream colored L-shaped couch facing the currently unlit fireplace. Above that rests a flat screen television, with a few stacks of movies resting on the mantle.

He can see some surround sound speakers in the corners of the room, and he appreciates the windows right out in front of him, opening up to what looked to be a porch. The sun outside was still high in the sky, though Magnus guesses that wouldn't be for much longer, with lunch having long since passed.

The portraits in this room is what catch his attention, and it is not because of their breath taking quality. He ignores Armando's gesture to sit down on the couch with him as he walks over to one of the picture frames. A silver drink cart is stationed in front of it, as if to protect the picture from prying hands.

The portrait depicts two men standing together, their arms slung over each other's shoulders in a gesture of closeness. One of them has their face buried into the other's chest, cheeks tinged a soft pink as his body seems to wrack with laughter.

This figure is without a doubt Armando, his warlock mark a blur of patchy amber behind his back as dark horns are prominent on his head. Both men are wearing shirts and shorts-appropriate beach wear- with their feet clad in leather sandals. The sun rises behind them along with the rippling ocean waves. Long shadows are cast from the two men, making the sand in front of them a deep shade of gray, like shards of black ice on the ground.

Magnus feels himself most drawn to the other person in the photo. This man is tall, broad and muscular, his pale skin lit a faint gold from the sun shine. The pitch black runes scrawled along his arms, neck, abdomen-from where his deep blue shirt ruffled up from the wind- and the rune peeking out from his chest are all in stark contrast to his skin tone.

Powerful night sky wings are folded up behind him with faint flecks of white flickering in them like tiny fireflies or bursts of starlight. Magnus can't recall seeing these wings look so pleasing the first time he met Daniel, but then again, it wasn't as though they met under the best circumstances.

Blue eyes call out to him like windows to his soul. Magnus finds himself drawn to that steady gaze as well as the smile adorning the man's face. That smile is so similar that of his husband's own, as is the face staring back at him. Daniel is so similar to Alexander, and out of all the three winged nephilim he is the one that makes Magnus believe that Daniel, Pippa and Harry are all telling the truth about his husband.

Alexander really is an immortal...an Archangel at that.

He feels something hollow in the pit of his stomach; the weight is as heavy as stone. His lungs burn with pain as he has another intake of breath, dry air doing little to sooth the hurt in his heart.

There is a large part of Magnus that is happy, happy that Alexander will never have to leave him now. Being immortal would almost guarantee Alec would stay in the realm of the living, to breath in the same air he breathes. But that would not necessarily make him happy though, and that might end up bringing serious consequences.

What if he doesn't want to be married anymore?

This is the thought that strikes the most fear into his heart. Mind you, the Alexander he knows and loves is loyal, stunning, and kind. He would never suspect Alec to be disloyal to him, never in a million years. Yet, he understands that immortality changes things.

There is a reason why so few immortals get married, and it is because they cannot handle being tied down to one person for all eternity. Magnus knows that he would never mind spending the rest of his life with his Alexander, but he's unsure if Alexander will feel the same in return.

Soon everything will be different for him. I would understand if he didn't feel the same way anymore...

He pushes the thoughts away. There were other things to focus on now, things of ultimate priority. A deep discussion with his husband could wait until later when they are reunited once more and after all this chaos is over.

And so his eyes drift over to the other pictures on the wall. Most of them are of Armando and Daniel together in some form or fashion, though there are also several with Pippa and Harry too...as well as some other woman who reminds him oddly of Isabelle. He peers at the image closely, trying to recall if he knew anyone from Shadowhunter history that looked like his lovely sister in law.

At any rate, it is clear that Armando knows Daniel, Pippa and Harry. The four people had to be close, and he could go as far to assume that Daniel and Armando may even be intimately involved with one another. So this was definitely the right place to come to.

"If you're quiet done examining my personal photos then you should come sit down. The quicker this conversation is done, the quicker I can leave." Armando's voice calls out airily.

Magnus drags his attention away from the pictures to face Armando. The other warlock is nestled comfortably by one of the arms of the couch, a suede pillow in his lap, the small tassels on it knotted together like spindly weeds. In front of Armando rests a martini glass on the coffee table, the contents of it a shimmering liquid gold. He can't recall Armando summoning up a refreshment, but he wouldn't be surprised if the other man had done it while he was lost in thought.

"Sorry about that. I got lost in thought." Magnus strides over to the couch after summoning himself his own martini. He sits down in the seat adjacent to Armando's own, not bothering with the arm chairs on the other side of the room.

Armando tilts his head thoughtfully. "I would presume so. You seemed to be very intrigued by my photos." He makes a vague gesture to the pictures Magnus had just been standing by, a frown ever present on his face.

Magnus nods. "You seem to be very close to those people. How did you meet them if you don't mind my asking?"

Armando's eyes narrow in suspicion, regarding Magnus with an air of caution. Magnus sipped from his martini quietly, trying to appear as harmless as possible. The fan overhead continued to spin onwards lazily; the chill in the room was ignorant of their plight.

"Why are you really here Bane? We're not exactly friends, so I know this isn't to catch up. And I doubt you have any real interest in my actual friends." Armando said.

There was an odd bit of hesitance in his last spoken sentence. He clung to this hesitancy with hope in his heart. Armando just has to know something about them.

"Its Lightwood-Bane actually. I'm married now." Armando lets out a snort at that, but doesn't say anything. "Look, I know we're not....friends really. But, I wouldn't have come here unless it was of dire importance though. And trust me when I say this is important."

"So you say." Armando twirls the glass in his hand. Glimmering gold liquid alcohol spins with the movements, sloshing around and almost spilling.

"Remember when you told me about the High Grounds at that party a while back?" Magnus asks. He doesn't feel the need to beat around the bush any longer, not while his husband is at risk.

Armando's mouth twitches, a tell tale sign that he does know what Magnus is talking about. Yet, he denies. "I have no idea what you're talking about." The winged warlock takes a sip of his martini, setting the drink down with a loud clang afterwards.

"But you must! You told me about it in Prague at a party we both attended. The warlock hosting the event- Smallville- had a painting of it in the drawing room of his mansion." Magnus explains. He hopes that with more detail, the knowledge will become more obvious to the elder warlock.

"And why should I recall a party like that? I've been to many parties, and my memory isn't what it used to be." Armando continues to remain aloof.

Magnus clenches his free hand tightly to force himself to remain calm. If he lashes out now, Armando would not be likely to tell him anything. I might never find Alexander if that happens. His heart beats painfully with the possibility that Alec could be lost to him forever. Magnus pushes on, trying to keep his voice steady to not show his worry.

"'A land that was touched by Mundane hands only once and has remained at peace ever since' you told me that about the High Grounds. So even if you can't recall the party, you have to remember that place. Can you tell me where it is?" Magnus asks.

Armando sighs. "Why do you want to know where this place is so badly?" He fixates a stern glare on Magnus, his normally brown eyes the color of the amber in his glamoured wings. "Don't tell me that it's just to host some "magnificent" party for one of your many cats either. Cats don't need birthday parties."

How dare he say that! Of course Chairman deserves a birthday party. He's such a good boy after all.

He pictures his and Alec's little kitten wearing a party hat, glitter glistening in his fluffy fur. Chairman would have such fun at a party, Magnus is certain. Admittedly, it had been some time since he'd hosted a birthday party for his cats, but now that Armando had mentioned it he was determined to do it at a later date.

Also, he was determined to make Armando take back his insult about his parties. Of course his parties are great! He is THE Magnus Lightwood-Bane after all.

"My husband is missing. Those people on your wall, " He gestures to the pictures of Daniel, Pippa and Harry. "have taken him and I would very much like him back." He tries his best to keep the desperation out of his voice. Judging from Armando's sympathetic frown he failed miserably.

"How do you know that they're the ones responsible?" The question doesn't really even sound like a question. Armando sounds awfully rhetorical as he says it, studious amber eyes looking over at the photos, his expression unreadable.

Magnus huffs. "They came to my loft to tell me and my family personally. I'm guessing you're close with Daniel, Pippa and Harry?" Armando blinks slowly, his gaze seemingly glazed with memories of a time long since passed.

"I guess you could say that we're close. I met them a long time ago. Some would call him-them my saving grace." Armando stares at one photo in particular over Magnus's shoulder. If the younger warlock had to guess, it would be the photo of Armando and Daniel together at the beach.

Magnus doesn't comment on the switch of words, though it does confirm that Armando feels pretty strongly about Daniel. "Alright then. Can you tell where they took Alexander? He-he's my husband." He clarifies.

"I figured as much." Armando rises from his spot on the couch, heading over to the drink cart with light footfalls. His back is facing Magnus when he speaks again, his body hunched over the cart. Magnus has to crane his head back to see the man who is making himself a brand new drink. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you where they are."

"Why not!?" Magnus can't keep the anger out of his voice now. He gets up from his seat, his hands shaking as red and blue sparks form at his fingertips. Only the slightest twitch of them would create a fireball. The instinctual knowledge of this reassures him very little, though if does keep him focused on the task at hand.

Armando returns his anger with equal

her wrist, her ruby bracelet clasped on the other. Magnus finds himself glad that he gave that necklace away to Will Herondale all those years ago. It may have been an object of painful remembrance for him, but it was good to see it being useful for someone else. Although I never imagined it would become a bracelet.

"Izzy, Simon, glad you could make it." Jace gives the couple an approving nod. Isabelle flicks a strand of flowing black hair over her shoulder to move it out of her eyes.

"It wasn't easy to get away. Maia and Underhill are busy placating Lorenzo and Meliorn right now at the council meeting. We'll have to think of a good excuse for as to why we were absent later." Izzy tells them.

"I'm sure you can think of something Iz." Simon tells her with a reassuring grin that Isabelle returns in full, the two making lovey dovey eyes at each other. A part of Magnus wants to gag, but he knows that has less to do with the cuteness overload of Sizzy and more to do with wanting his husband back to do the same things with him.

"Ah hem. If you all are done talking might I suggest we get going. Time is ticking people." Armando says impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground.

"Says the guy who gave me a lecture for like five minutes." Jace bites back.

"That's besides the point Herondale. Now let's get going." Armando snaps his fingers and a brilliant portal appears, the light of it jack o lantern orange. Clary, Jace, Izzy and Simon shoot Magnus questioning looks, waiting for their friend's next move.

Magnus gives them a faint smile to mask his worry for Alexander. "Well, what are we waiting for?" And with that he steps through the portal to the High Grounds. To where his Alexander is waiting for him.

*****Unknown POV*****

Hiss. Slither. SCREECH.

The demons let out their angry cries, tentacles flinging around in the air dripping with burning black ichor. As the master has requested, the fallen angel had assembled several hordes of demons to attack the unsuspecting Windimiere siblings, effectively putting a stop to whatever they are planning.

The fallen angel had rounded the demons up from a nearby hellscape, the evil demon spawn excited to attack anything of pure heart and mind. They were all in the foyer of the underground lair now, the room coated in fresh blood that the Master found appealing. As to where the blood was from however, he was unsure. The sweetness of it made him think faerie oddly enough.

"I see you've summoned many tentacuflit demons to tear those idiotic siblings apart. Well done." The master's sultry voice said from right behind him.

The fallen angel let out a shudder, his body quaking with fear. There was a part of him, the side of him that had once been filled with light and with goodness and purity that would've never even dared to imagine hurting Harry, Pippa or Daniel. The three siblings were his niece and nephews, people he was meant to care for.

But things have changed and I'm different now. He runs a decaying hand through equally decaying feathers. For some fallen angels darkness came easy as life, it was not the same truth for him. He'd had to constantly struggle with the demonic energy inside his veins, trying to reach a commonality of evil with it.

So far, it was only partially successful. He knew he would have to resign to trying harder. After all, the darkness was really all he had left.

"Yes Master. The demons will be deployed shortly." He promises the other.

As per normal, the Master wore a cloak that hid their face. It was a drab swamp green today, like a poor knock off version of the Green Arrow's, except this one is covered in a faint sheen of dried blood on either side. The smell of the Master is always awful, like something akin to both fresh and stale death rolled into one.

"Good. Those Windimieres will pay for what they did." Master snarled, his voice sounding like a wild beast.

The fallen angel gave a stiff nod, his chest tight with fear. "W-will that be all?" The quicker he gets away from the mad monster, the better off he would feel. There was only so long that he would be willing to spend in front of his torturer.

"No. I have much more planned then just that Samuel. Much more indeed." The Master let out a wicked laugh. Around them, the tentacuflit demons let out their own whirring screeches of glee. Samuel felt sick to his stomach, and he had a feeling things would only get worse.

****Jace's POV****

He had been explained what the High Grounds were supposed to look like, but Jace wasn't sure they were at the right place when they stepped out of the portal along with the rest of his companions.

The glade of the forest trembled with vicious winds, sending leaves fluttering in the wind in mini twisters on the ground. Incoming storm clouds were beginning to darken the overhead light alongside the vast tree line, though that didn't prevent Jace from being able to catch the sunset through a gap in the trees.

The sky was tinged a kaleidoscope of orange, red, pink and purple as the sun began its descent into the earth. Dusk was almost upon them. There was not much time left.

"We need to get a move on." Jace yells out over the roaring clamor of the wind, doing his best to be heard.

"Armando, Clary can you lead the way?" Izzy asks.

"Yes, there's no time to waste." Armando says; Clary nods in agreement.

BOOOM. CRASH!!!! Rumble!

The ground seemed to shake underneath them as a brilliant bolt of lightning flashed in the sky. A white tangle of powerful light tinges the sky with a pale white glimmer amidst the oddly colored sky.

SCRREEEECCCCCCCCHHHHH!!!

"What on earth was that?!" Simon shouts, his brown eyes wide and startled. Dark gray clouds are rapidly covering the sky now, to the point where the sun is almost impossible to spot through the thick haze. A sickly white fog begins to rise up from the ground up to his knees, the color of a frothy foam.

"I don't know!" Izzy shouts, her hand covering her ruby bracelet, which is pulsing with bright light. "But it can't be anything good."

"Demons!" Jace and Clary exclaim in shock.

Magnus stares at the still pulsing bracelet worriedly, his coiffed hair ruffling in the wind. The High warlock does not say anything, just sprints in the direction of the noise, his hands sparking with lethal red magic. Jace and the others rush to follow him, ignoring the increasing sounds of screeching.

Askew branches whack at Jace as he does his best to keep up with Magnus's speed. The warlock has no trouble launching himself over fallen logs suspended three feet in the air, jutting out from huge boulders.

Jace's runes light gold as he leaps over a particularly tall boulder, not bothering to climb up it like Clary and Isabelle and the rest, as Magnus uses his powers to merely levitate over it, the older man's eyes blazing. Usually he wouldn't leave Izzy or Clary or Simon behind in unknown territory, but leaving Magnus to his own devices in his frantic emotional state seems like an even worse idea and so he does the best he can with no time to ponder his actions.

Eventually, the glare opens up into a clearing. It is just like Clary described, with the abandoned pillars that mark a construction site off to the side along with the old wooden sign. The grass is in sparse clumps here and there, giving way to a huge drop off of a cliff. It is then that his eyes are drawn to the people standing there, one figure in particular a familiar silhouette standing near the edge of a no doubt steep cliff face.

Jace wants to cry out his name, but he finds his throat closing up as he spots the hordes of demons flying in the sky. Tentacles and black ichor splatter everywhere as the monsters screech and bellow, the massive ten foot height of each of them blocking out the sun alongside the gloomy clouds. Thankfully, where words fail him they do not fail Magnus. The warlock lets out a loud cry, a mix of happiness and fear all jumbled into one.

"ALEXANDER!"

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