The Angel-Blooded One (Shadowhunters ff)

8 - The Family Reunion

Clary

Clary leaned against the wrought-iron railing of the chateau balcony and inhaled the crisp mountain air. Below, the emerald expanse of the Alps stretched towards the horizon, a breathtaking vista that seemed to belong to another world entirely. Spring, though late in its arrival, was finally painting the landscape in vibrant hues. Oskar had explained the history of the place – a hunting lodge of a long-dead Archduke, whose assassination ignited the World War I. Ownership, he claimed, had eventually passed to a supposed ancestor of Clary's, a daughter of the German Emperor.

The hidden legacy felt both strange and comforting, a whisper of identity in the vast emptiness of her past year. It was like finding a discarded family heirloom – a connection to a past she never knew existed.

For a girl who'd spent the past year believing she was the last member of her family, the revelation of heritage felt both strange and comforting. It was like an anchor, tethering her to a past she never knew existed.

Oskar had taken refuge here after his supposed demise. The vast estate encompassed rolling hills, dense forests, and this secluded manor nestled against the mountains, far away from prying eyes. Isaac, a warlock close to Oskar, had surrounded the estate with wards, further isolating them from the world.

This was a different reality, a bubble of tranquility with nothing more than the manor and the verdant embrace of the mountains. The stillness made Clary uneasy. It was too quiet, especially compared to the ceaseless thrum of New York. Even the air felt too clean, lacking the familiar tang of exhaust fumes and urban grime.

Clary had spent hours wandering the extensive grounds, encountering no other soul. The only signs of life were distant mountain huts, likely empty during this shoulder season. The outside world could cease to exist, and they might not even notice.

"Lost in thought, are we?" Oskar's voice startled Clary, drawing her gaze away from the valley.

She turned to see Oskar approaching, his gait surprisingly light for a man in his seventies. His graying hair and etched lines betrayed his age, but there was a youthful spring in his step that reminded her, disturbingly, of Jace. It was a connection she couldn't escape, not even here.

"Just thinking," she offered with a forced smile. Lately, Jace seemed to occupy most of her thoughts. The way he'd looked at her in the art exhibition, the hesitant touch in the alleyway, and most of all, the way she'd left him behind – again. A pang of guilt stabbed at her heart.

Oskar stopped beside her, his gaze fixed on the valley. "You know you could have invited him to join us," he said gently.

Clary squeezed the wrought-iron railing, a knot tightening in her stomach. Every fiber of her being yearned for Jace to be here. Yet, a paralyzing fear held her back. She wouldn't risk Jace's life if Raziel found her. But it was more than just that.

Regaining her memories had been a whirlwind. The reawakened emotions were overwhelming, a chaotic storm raging in her mind. Sometimes, the memories felt vivid, a reliving of past joys and heartbreaks. Other times, they seemed distant, like faded photographs of a stranger's life. She desperately needed time to sort through the wreckage, to understand the woman staring back at her in the mirror. And a part of her, a tiny, traitorous part, wondered if this time away from Jace, from the Shadow world, was something she craved – a stolen moment of peace before the storm inevitably returned.

"I know, but this was the right thing to do," she mumbled, more to herself than Oskar.

He turned to look at her. "You remind me of your mother," he said with bittersweet nostalgia. "An idealist who loved fiercely. But she also believed she knew what was best for others." His gaze softened as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You, of all people, Clarissa, should know where that path leads."

Clary flinched. "You don't know anything about my mother."

A faint, melancholic smile played on Oskar's lips. "On the contrary, I watched her grow, witnessed her love for my son, encouraging him to become the man he could be. Sadly, it took her too long to see the monster he truly was."

Anger flared in Clary's chest. She shrugged off his hand and turned to face him. "How dare you! My mother saved the Downworld from Valentine! And maybe, if you hadn't died, he wouldn't have turned against them in the first place!"

Oskar sighed. "Perhaps. My death may have been the tipping point, the final push off the cliff. But he teetered on the edge for years. We can't take the blame for the choices of others."

He turned to leave, his steps echoing on the stone floor. He paused at the sound of Clary's voice. "Why didn't you come for me?"

Oskar turned back to face her, his eyes filled with a deep sadness that seemed at odds with his earlier composure. "I didn't know you existed."

He approached her slowly and took her hand gently in his. "An informant in Idris alerted me that Jocelyn had a daughter. But no one expected Valentine to be your father. Only later did I learn of our connection, that you were my blood, a surviving Morgenstern."

Clary stared down at their intertwined hands, a tangled web of emotions churning within her. Disbelief, anger, and a sliver of hope. It felt like a missing piece of her past snapped into place, but it brought more questions than answers.

"Even after you connection to the Shadow World was severed, I watched from afar," Oskar continued, "I have... allies in the art world who secured your place at the Academy. And I ensured there was someone close by."

Clary's head snapped up, her eyes widening. "Aria?"

Oskar gave a slow nod. "Her parents have been loyal to me for decades. I entrusted them to look after you, but Aria didn't know the details. With her innate desire to protect the lost, they must have thought the two of you would connect eventually."

Clary pulled her hand away, a wave of anger rising within her. "But why now? Why pull me away after leaving me alone for months? I was finally building a life. Now, that's been shattered too."

"My friends informed me you were regaining your memories," Oskar explained, his voice gentle yet firm. "I needed to get you to safety before it was too late."

Clary scoffed, a bitter edge to her voice. "So you decided what was best for me? Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" She started towards the balcony door, her emotions threatening to boil over.

Before she could leave, Oskar's voice stopped her. "Clarissa, understand this," he said. "No matter what atrocities my son committed, I loved him dearly. But I couldn't save him. You, however, I could. While my approach may not have been ideal, I stand by my decision to bring you here. I'm just... glad you're safe."