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He looked down at his hands. They were like Hodge's hands already, snowflaked with tiny white scars, though the skin was young and unlined. "If you're really tired, I could put you to sleep," he said. "Tell you a bedtime story."
She looked at him. "Are you serious?" "I'm always serious." She wondered if being tired made them both a little crazy. But Jace didn't look tired. He looked almost sad. She set the sketchbook down on the night table, and laydown, curling sideways on the pillow. "Okay." "Close your eyes." She closed them. She could see the afterimage of lamplight reflected against her inner lids, like tiny starbursts. "Once there was a boy," said Jace. Clary interrupted immediately. "A Shadowhunter boy?" "Of course." For a moment bleak amusement colored his voice. Then it was gone. "When the boy was six years old, his father gave him a falcon to train. Falcons are raptors- killing birds, his father told him, the Shadowhunters of the sky. "The falcon didn't like the boy, and the boy didn't like it, either. It's sharp beak made him nervous and it's bright eyes always seemed to be watching him. I would slash at him with his beak and talons when he came near: For weeks his wrists and hands were always bleeding. He didn't know it, but his father had picked a falcon that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus was nearly impossible to tame. But the boy tried, because his father told him to make the falcon obedient, and he wanted to please his father. "He stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. He learned the equipment: the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash that bound the bird to wrist. He was meant to keep the falcon blind, but he couldn't bring himself to do it- instead tried he sat where the bird could see him as he touched and stroked it's wings, willing it to trust him. He fed it from his hand, at first it would not eat. Later it ate so savagely that it's beak cut the skin of his palm. But the boy was glad, because it was progress, and because he wanted the bird to know him, even if it had to consume his blood to make that happen. "He began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that it's slim wings were built for the speed of flight, that is was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dived to the ground, it moved like light. When it learned to circle and come to his wrist, he nearly shouted with delight. Sometimes the bird would hop to his shoulder and put it's beak in his hair. He knew his falcon loved him, and when he was certain it was not just tamed but perfectly tamed, he went to his father and showed him what he'd done, expecting him to be proud. "Instead his father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and broke it's neck. 'I told you to make it obedient,' his father said, and dropped the falcon's lifeless body on the ground. 'Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: they are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed, it was broken.' "Later, when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet , until eventually his father sent a servant to take the body of the bird away and bury it. The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he learned: that to love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be the one destroyed. " Clary, who had been lying still, hardly breathing, rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. "That's an awful story," she said indignantly. Jace had his legs pulled up, his chin on his knees. "Is it?" he said ruminatively. "The boy's father is horrible. It's a story about child abuse. I should have known that's what Shadowhunters think a bed time story is like. Anything that gives you screaming nightmares-" "Sometimes the Marks can give you screaming nightmares," said Jace. "If you get them when you're too young." He looked at her thoughtfully. The late afternoon light came in through the curtains and made his face a study in contrasts. Chiaroscuro, she thought. The art of shadows and light. "It's a good story if you think about it," he said. "The boy's father is just trying to make him stronger. Inflexible." "But you have to learn to bend a little," Clary said with a yawn. Despite the story's content, the rhythm of Jace's voice made her sleepy. "Or you'll break." "Not if you're strong enough," said Jace firmly. He reached out, and she felt the back of his hand brush her cheek; she realized her eyes were slipping shut. Exhaustion made her bones liquid; she felt as if she might wash away and vanish. As she fell into sleep, she heard the echo of words in her mind. He gave me anything I wanted. Horses, weapons, books, even a hunting falcon. "Jace," she tried to say. But sleep had her in it's claws; it drew her down, and she was silent. ;The Mortal Instruments: The City Of Bones by Cassandra Clare Chapter Magnus Bane, pages 204 to 207 I've been wanting to do a typography for a while but I didn't know what to do. I love the quote though, and I love that book. So there. ..yes. Mortal Instruments © Cassandra Clare |
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February 10
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Comments
--
You and me, we're not like the rest: we once were the best.
Back when we were dumb, how did we become so smart?
VIS!T
~Kaizo-Konpaku <3 (:
And learn to break each other's heart?
Fantastic interpretation, I especially love the last "destroyed"
On another note, how do you make your font so small?
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I LOVE YOU.
Oh wait, I lied.
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I LOVE YOU.
Oh wait, I lied.
About the font; in the comment space, put < sub > without the spaces. then type whatever you need to type (: to get back to normal size, < /sub >
you can type the tag a number of times to vary the size, example:
this is when it's typed three times c: but ofcourse, then you'd have to close it three times.
--
You and me, we're not like the rest: we once were the best.
Back when we were dumb, how did we become so smart?
VIS!T
~Kaizo-Konpaku <3 (:
And learn to break each other's heart?
other subject: wow that's so cool!
tiny
Thanks for teaching me how to do this ^^
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I LOVE YOU.
Oh wait, I lied.
I love the
"to" and how it links to the "destroyed"
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Reach for the stars, you never know just how close they might be
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"The happiness of anyone in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of their passions."
Etsy is up and running...please take a look [link]
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