Hail And Farewell, My Brother.

You Never Cared That I Was Your Sister Before.” “didn’t I?” His Black Eyes Flicked Up And Down Her. “our Father’s Dead,” He Said. “there Are No Other Relatives. You And I, We Are The Last. The Last Of The Morgensterns. You Are The Only One Left Whose Blood Runs In My Veins, Too. You Are My Last Chance.

Unfortunately, We're All Out Of Bitter Evange At The Moment, So It's Either Tea Or Nothing

His Hands Slipped From His Throat, And He Crashed To The Ground Like A Tree Falling. "oh, Dear," Said Pangborn, Gazing At The Fallen Body Of His Comrade With Fastidious Distaste. "how Unpleasant.

This Was A Voice That Drew Out Memories Stretched Thin By Years Of Recollection, Like Paper Unfolded And Refolded Too Many Times. A Voice That Brought Back, Like A Wave, The Memory Of Another Time On This Bridge, A Night So Long Ago, Everything Black And Silver And The River Rushing Away Under Her Feet.

This Was Jace Being Brave. Simon Thought, Brave And Snarky Because He Thought Lilith Was Going To Kill Him, And That Was The Way He Wanted To Go, Unafraid And On His Feet. Like A Warrior. The Way Shadowhunters Did. His Death Song Would Always Be This-jokes And Snideness And Pretend Arrogance, And That Look In His Eyes That Said 'i'm Better Than You'. Simon Just Hadn't Realized It Before.