Dreadful Need in the Devotee
The Institute library has always been a place of calm. Volumes upon volumes hug the shelves, cocooning the shadowhunters amongst pages. Ink bleeds into the air, mixing with dust and settling into lungs. Things whisper in corners in lost languages. The moment Alec enters the space, he feels it wash over him.
In a world that has utterly shattered within the space of a few days, there is so much comfort in the familiarity of this place.
The room is empty aside from him. The rest of the Institute is running around, attempting damage control after Jace’s disastrous mission. Jace himself is currently in the infirmary, coming down from his Seelie high. Izzy and Simon are scrambling to find the mission vial of Glorious; Underhill is triple-checking security measures for the second time that month; the Clave is bouncing rapidly between cold apathy and burning judgment. It is something of a miracle that Alec has even found a moment to himself. Although, as the silence stagnates around him, he begins to wonder if that is such a good thing. It’s the first time in days that he allows his thoughts to wander. Of course, they immediately drift to Magnus.
He’s already heard a whisper. A rumour that managed to worm its way into the Institute. A sighting of Asmodeus. Magnus Bane wandering New York. Blue embers at his fingers.
The news aches inside Alec. He tries to feel relief.
Grief creeps up his spine. He moves forward, deeper into the library. He hopes it will not chase him.
