I woke with a start, staring at the face of Clary. “Shadow! Shadow, are you alright?”

I blinked at her, then shook my head and stood up, ignoring her outstretched hand. Wabbit nuzzled against my leg. “Okay, what the fuck was that? Did Fitz just… just win? Seriously?”

“Uh, I guess. I’m sorry, Shadow, I tried so hard, I set up the rules of the contest specifically to stop him from messing things up, but then he did it anyways.”

“Well, it’s not your fault. It’s that asshole’s fault, and I’m going to kill him. Slowly.” I stood, and began opening a portal. Clary grabbed my hand and said, “Wait, don’t!”

I tilted my head quizzically and she continued, “If you kill him now, you will never become Champion. The Council will stop you, the soldiers will stop you, and you aren’t powerful enough to take on all of Nyx. You can’t win this by fighting all of your problems.”

I bit back a retort, and took a deep breath. I released it in a long sigh, and said, “Okay, you’re right. But I have to fix this. I have to fix it, or everything will fall apart. She said so. I said so. Whatever!”

“Uh, what are you talking about?” asked Malk.

“I’m talking about the freaky dream-vision-thing I just had, while uncon- oh what the fuck, did I really faint? Seriously? That is so uncool.”

“Yes, you fainted. Dream-vision-thing?”

“Right, that. Well, I think I visited my own mind, or something, because I found this little girl who looked like me, who had painted all these scenes that represented the path my life was supposed to take. She got really mad, saying I’d broken things, and I needed to fix it. I don’t remember it very well. Dreams are always hard to remember.”

“So why did you also call it a vision?”

“Because dreams aren’t that… sane. I mean, not that it was all normal and realistic, but dreams are usually crazy and chaotic and don’t make sense, but that was straightforward. So, I’m not sure what it was.”

I had a dull pain in my head, some sort of delayed headache, and pressed my hand to the side of my head. Clary asked tentatively, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just have some sort of headache, either from landing on it or from that stupid dream. Gah, I need to do something to clear this stress and pain and all of this annoyingness going on. Let’s go home.”

I opened a portal, this time back to Widow’s Dusk, and we walked through, coming out in Clary and Malk’s living room. I sat on the couch, and began to think.

Obviously, I needed to fix the whole not-being-Champion issue.

But how do I fix it? I mean… I really don’t know. Killing Fitz would be fun but probably wouldn’t work, and neither would killing Drake. I’d already tested the limits of what the Council would allow without sending the military. I need the military alive for my plans.

The Council wouldn’t be swayed on this matter, the decision had already been made and would be effectively irreversible without… without something! Something that I didn’t know what it could possibly be.

If I tried to force the issue, those I wanted to lead would be dead, and Darkness would hate me, not see me as their savior. But there had to be a way. There had to be a way to fix it, to fix everything. There had to be a way!

How? How can I fix this! There has to be a way, I just need to think, to figure this out! Gah, my head still hurts. There… there has to be… I-I need to think. I need to fix this. I need to think. I need to fix this! I just… there has to… I need… I need to clear my head. Get rid of this stress, approach the problem from a different angle. Maybe I should fight, do some sort of sparring or practice bout. I have to… I have to fix this!

“Clary! Malk! I need to do some training, let’s go have a practice fight.”

Malk nodded, but said, “Sure, but let’s do it one-at-a-time, so we can practice better. We’ll fight with sword, and then Clary and you can do magic.”

I blinked at him. “Uh, I suppose that’s a plan. Clary, you can stay here, Malk and I will go spar, I guess. Let’s go to that clearing I found.” Clary nodded and said, “I’ll just stay here and watch some television.”

I opened a portal to the aforementioned clearing, and entered it. I emerged in a clearing (obviously), a wide, open, and flat bit of ground within the forest. Malk followed a moment after, having presumably gathered his equipment.

I compared our gear. I had only Whisperdeath, my awesome sword, which was likely more than enough to beat Malk.

He, on the other hand, had gone all-out. He was wearing the caster gauntlet, carrying his plain sword and the magic shield, and was also now wearing a sleek face-covering helmet. The last one seemed an odd choice, but I merely shrugged at it, unconcerned.

He readied his weapon, and I unsheathed mine. I smirked at him, and called, “Alright then, let’s begin.”

He charged me with full force, sword raised to slice down. I nimbly danced to the side, and brought my own sword around in a horizontal arc, which he barely managed to block by swinging his shield around.

I asked, “So, you mentioned a few days ago you wanted to try out a new form of art. Had any ideas on what type?” I then sent another three blows raining down on him, but his shield held fast, and immediately after the third one he sent his sword forward in a piercing motion, which I dodged by stepping back at supernatural speeds.

He said, “Not really. There are lots of things I could branch into, from sketches to charcoal to chalk, or maybe oils. And in all honesty, there are still some areas of painting I haven’t explored yet, I just want a break from it.”

I brought my sword down at him the moment I was safe, and said, “I’ve debated trying art before, but it seems so much time and effort for such a simple end. Much easier to use magic instead.”

He stepped forward with shield raised, protecting himself from my attack. “Yes, you have always liked that. I noticed it since we first became friends, however long ago that was.”

“It was after I left the caster school, but before I convinced the Council to let me do a year at the slayer school.” I began to hammer on his shield, my sword raining down in rapid succession.

The shield didn’t seem to budge, and Malk said, “Right, I remember now. I had just begun my art career, in… actually, in Raven’s Shade. I’d managed to get a good place there, and a few contracts, and things were looking up. Then, one day I went to this coffee place, called ‘Ritan’ I think. Clary was the only other person there, but after a few minutes we realized we had practically nothing in common.”

I continued to try and break through his defense, and said, “That must have been when I came in. Clary was in the city with me, I’d met her back in the Academy of Magic when she was in her last year and she’d taken a liking to me, so when I graduated early I decided to stay at her house. I chatted with you, I think, and you were fascinated with me.”

“Yeah, I guess so. All I remember is a few days later, I ended up moving into Widow’s Dusk with Clary. Strangest thing, really.”

Slowly, my attacks began forcing him back, step by step. “I guess it could be seen as strange. Perhaps you just realized that I was powerful, and that helping me could lead you to great rewards.”

He stepped back again and again under my merciless onslaught. “Maybe that was it. But thinking about it, that’s not the first time I’ve done something that doesn’t fit, something that isn’t really… me.”

“I see. And what do you think about those moments?”

“I think that every one of them benefited you. And I think it’s been happening to Clary too. For example, when you outright told her you considered her nothing more than your property.”

I lunged forward, and his foot snagged on a thick root. His masked head turned to look at his his foot and he tried to stop himself from tripping, and in that moment I darted to the side of his shield and swung my sword around to slice into his midsection.

I was annoyed by the appearance of a translucent energy barrier, the source of which I assumed to be the magic shield.

I could practically feel Malk smirking as he said, “I figured it out, Shadow. I know you’ve been manipulating us, playing on our emotions, on our thoughts, and infiltrating our minds. You’ve been tugging at our strings, the smug puppetmaster, and we’ve danced to your tune. It’s why I came to Widow’s Dusk. It’s why Clary falls all over you. And it ends today.” He lunged at me, sword drawn, and I darted back. As I did so, he tossed aside his sword and gestured with his gauntleted hand, and a tentacle appeared, wrapping around my foot.

“So, how long have you known? I doubt this was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I bet you figured it out when Mirror talked about me.”

“Oh, that helped, certainly, but I’d had my suspicions for a while. It was truly confirmed when you labeled Clary your belonging, and she was reassured by that.”

“Perhaps it’s just because she loves me, like I thought you did. And really, you can’t tell me you still don’t… feel, for me?” I smiled roguishly, but the smile fell when he laughed at me.

“Shadow, maybe I should make something clear. Clary loves you. She is smitten with you, infatuated, absolutely in love. She has been for a while I’d bet, and not all of it from your spells. But me? At most, I felt a physical attraction to you, and to your power, magnified by the mental tampering you did. But it was only ever an attraction, a crush. And crushes end. I’m over you. And I want my mind back!” He picked up his sword and charged me, and I reacted instantly, slicing apart the tentacle and leaping to the side, landing in a roll.

He turned to face me, and pointed the sword straight at me. “Time to pay, bitch!” A bolt of darkness gathered around his sword, and leapt straight at me. I laughed mockingly, and cleaved it in two with Whisperdeath.

“You know, Malk, I do have a question. Why didn’t you confront me at the cathedral, when I was fighting Mirror or the knight? Why wait until now?”

“I didn’t want you to catch on to me knowing. I figured I’d wait for the most opportune time to strike, and this seemed like my best bet.”

I sent a bolt of darkness at him, and as he dodged it I said, “You’d make a shit assassin then. Best time to kill me is in my sleep, or to stab me in the back when I’m fighting a real enemy. Not now, on an open field, when you know I’m better than you. I mean, I’d probably just wake up and kill you if you tried to kill me in my sleep, but still. Terrible planning.”

He snarled, “Oh, I know you can kill me. I’m betting on it, in fact, as my backup plan. See, if I killed you, Clary would still be affected by your magic. She’d still love you, and she’d see me as a villain and a traitor for killing you. But if you kill me, here and now, she’ll be forced to realize the truth. And if somehow I do kill you, I can live with Clary hating me. I don’t care about her anyways, you already know I only lived with her because of your magic.” He charged at me once more, and darkness gathered around his sword, while his shield’s magic barrier sprung to life.

I sighed, and dropped my sword. Then, I raised one hand, my palm facing Malk, and said, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

As he stared in confusion, darkness shot out of my hand, and slammed into Malk, sending him flying into a tree trunk. His sword fell from his hand, his shield next, and I directed the darkness to take both those and the gauntlet, and fling them behind me. Once Malk’s tools were out of his grasp, I stalked forward, and said, “Think, you dolt. If I can make you abandon art contracts to move to a city, if I can make Clary practically worship me, if I can do all of the things that I have done, why can’t I just make you obey me? Huh? Why would I kill you, when I could enslave you instead?”

Malk laughed weakly. “Th-that’s what the mask is f-for, bitch. You always look people in the eyes, w-when you enter their m-minds. No eyes, no entry, no eternal enslavement. Now, finish it. Kill me.”

I grabbed my sword, and brought it to his neck. “Is that what you want? Your death at my hands, forcing me to kill you so that Clary is free of my power? You want me to take this sword,” I moved it to his chest, “and drive it through your chest?”

He let out a hacking cough, and said, “Do it. End my torment.”

“You fucking moron.” I shook my head disgusted, and then sighed as I ripped Malk’s helmet open with my bare hands, exposing his panicked face. “For the record, I don’t have to see your eyes. I have so many other ways to control, and manipulate, and enter your mind. Let me show you!”

He opened his mouth, terror in his eyes, and said-