Fragile Hearts (TID - Will Herondale fanfic)

Chapter 71: Merry Christmas

Ella bit her lower lip.

The Council room was full of light. A great double circle had been painted upon the raised dais at the front of the room, and in the space between the circles were runes: runes of binding, runes of knowledge, runes of skill and craft, and the runes that symbolized Sophie's name. Sophie knelt in the center of the circles. Her dark hair was unbound and fell to her waist, a ripple of dark curls against her darker gear. She looked very beautiful in the light that streamed from the skylighted dome above, the scar on her cheek red as a rose.

The Consul stood above her, her white hands upraised, the Mortal Cup held within them. Charlotte wore simple scarlet robes that billowed around her. Her small face was serious and severe. "Take the Cup, Sophia Collins," she said, and the room was breathlessly silent. The Council chamber was not full, but the row Ella sat at was: Gideon and Gabriel, Cecily and Henry, and her and Tessa and Will, all leaning forward eagerly, waiting for Sophie to Ascend. At each end of the dais stood a Silent Brother, their heads bent, their parchment robes looking as if they had been carved out of marble.

Charlotte lowered the Cup, and held it out to Sophie, who took it carefully.

"Do you swear, Sophia Collins, to forsake the mundane world and follow the path of the Shadowhunter? Will you take into yourself the blood of the Angel Raziel and honour that blood? Do you swear to serve the Clave, to follow the Law as set forth by the Covenant, and to obey the word of the Council? Will you defend that which is human and mortal, knowing that for your service there will be no recompense and no thanks but honour?"

"I swear," said Sophie, her voice very steady.

"Can you be a shield for the weak, a light in the dark, a truth among falsehoods, a tower in the flood, an eye to see when all others are blind?"

"I can."

"And when you are dead, will you give up your body to the Nephilim to be burned, that your ashes may be used to build the City of Bones?"

"I will."

"Then drink," said Charlotte. From her spot beside him, Ella heard Gideon draw in his breath. This was the dangerous part of the ritual. This was the part that could kill the untrained or unworthy.

Sophie bent her dark head and set the Cup to her lips. Tessa leaned forward, and Ella slid her hand into Gideon's, mainly for reassurance and also to calm herself. On her other side, she felt Will's hand slide over hers, a warm, comforting weight. Sophie's throat moved as she swallowed.

The circle that surrounded her and Charlotte flared up once with a cold, blue-white light, obscuring them both. When it faded, Ella was left blinking stars from her eyes as the light dwindled. She blinked hastily, and saw Sophie hold up the Cup. There was a glow about the Cup she held as she handed it back to Charlotte, who smiled broadly.

"You are Nephilim now," she said. "I name you Sophia Shadowhunter, of the blood of Jonathan Shadowhunter, child of the Nephilim. Arise, Sophia."

And Sophie rose, amid the cheering of the crowd, Gideon's cheers the loudest among many. Sophie was smiling, her whole face shining in the winter sunlight that gleamed down through the clear skylight. Shadows moved across the floor, darting and quick.

Ella grinned, laughing as she looked up at windows, white with snow. She could feel Gabriel's eyes on her. She remembered celebrating three Christmas Eves with Jem, who had always visited her at her house to have tea and scones with her.

"Snow," Will said softly in her ear. "Merry Christmas, Nora."

Ella smiled as Will turned and said something to Tessa.

"Merry Christmas, Jem," she whispered.

"Tell me more about the Institute, Jem," Ella pleaded.

Jem smiled in that kind way of his. "Will, my parabatai, is going to take me all over London for a day of demon slaying. Again. He does it to get his mind off of his parents. It was Christmas time when he left them."

"That isn't good for your health, Jem," Ella said, frowning. "You'll need to take a lot of the drug, won't you?"

Jem smiled again. "Yes. But it's worth it. It's the least I can do to help him."

Ella felt a surge of hate towards Jem's parabatai. Selfish. He was so selfish to do this Jem. Didn't he know how little time Jem had? He would be what took Jem away from her.

Jem, as always, seemed to know what she was thinking. "He wouldn't hurt me if he knew, Ella. But I can't bear seeing Will in pain. It hurts me too."

Ella looked at Jem closely. "Are you certain?"

Jem nodded without hesitation. "I am."

Ella leaned toward Jem, resting her head on his shoulder. At fourteen, they had been almost the same height. Now, though, Jem was much taller than her.

"Merry Christmas, Jem," she whispered.