Confidence [The Mortal Instruments] {Rewritten}

I Jace's P.O.V

"Look at the sky!" Clary's voice held a note of restrained urgency as she pointed upward.

Raising my eyes, I observed an unusual display in the clouds – an image revealing the werewolf's identity and her Downworlder status.

"What is this? Some kind of bizarre interpretation of The Hunger Games?!" The ex-bloodsucker exclaimed, a mixture of astonishment and annoyance evident in her voice.

"Hunger what?" Izzy questioned;her confusion tinged with a subtle edge of fear.

The uncertainty of not knowing whether my brother, my best friend, my parabatai, was on the brink of danger gnawed at me. I despised this feeling of helplessness, unable to be there and defend him in the face of danger.

"It's a mundane famous book series," Clary explained with a grimace. "Each time someone died in the fighting coliseum, the same sound echoed, and a picture of the fallen combatant appeared in the sky. However, this happened at night, after numerous deaths had occurred."

As Clary concluded her explanation, I found myself tightly clutching my parabatai rune, a futile attempt to ward off the haunting worry that clung to me like a persistent shadow. "Relax, Jace," my fiancée attempted to soothe me, despite the glare I shot her way.In that tense moment, my focus was singular – Alec. The impotence I felt, unable to shield my parabatai from potential danger, fueled my frustration. 

"Look!" Clary ordered, redirecting my gaze to the large screen displaying the werewolf's condition. "She's perfectly fine, just a bit banged up. Alec will be fine... no, he'll be more than fine," she asserted, her glare now transformed into one of unwavering determination. "He will win the archery challenge. Trust him!"

For a moment, I stood frozen, absorbing the impact of Clary's words. She was right, as she often was. "Okay," I finally managed to reply, a thread of composure returning. "I will calm down and trust Alec."

"Good," she sighed, shifting her  focus to scan for any signs of suspicious activity.

How could I have doubted Alec or Clary, who had seen us through hell? As I let myself relax, a lingering question lingered in my mind, how could a few racist idiots truly stand against us? Suddenly, a subtle movement to my right caught my attention, and my eyes locked with Clary's, both of us sharing a grim understanding. Without exchanging words, I nodded in acknowledgment, silently indicating that I would investigate the source of the disturbance. With careful steps, I moved in the direction where I had glimpsed the shadowy figure, a rare attempt not to draw unnecessary attention – a first in my history. After all, I am the most beautiful creature ever created. Why wouldn't people be drawn to me?

The elusive shadow moved with exceptional speed, displaying a grace that only a Nephilim could master. It dawned on me –I was about to confront a fellow Shadowhunter, one of my own, all to preserve the hard-earned peace my brother had tirelessly striven for. Over the past year, Alec had traversed skies and seas, tirelessly working to make the governments of all Shadow World factions listen. His efforts yielded successes,but there were also instances of failure. Yet, he remained steadfast, never allowing setbacks to deter his commitment.

Alec achieved what many deemed impossible– a peace treaty following the Dark War. His contributions extended beyond mere battlefield triumphs; he championed equal rights, pushing for the legality of marriage and adoption regardless of gender or the mix of Shadowhunter-Downworlder unions. His impending wedding was poised to make history, being the first, recognized by Nephilim law, between two males and bridging the divide between a Shadowhunter and a warlock. Alec's adoption of a warlock – not a werewolf or vampire, who used to be humans and now were tainted by demon blood, nor a faerie with angelic essence to counterbalance demonic influences – challenged conservative Shadowhunter views, breaking down prejudices.In essence, Alec sparked a profound transformation. 

While I may excel as a fighter and possess a greater share of angelic blood, Alec's impact surpassed mine. He became a catalyst for change,transcending the conventional boundaries of a skilled warrior. Alec emerged as a mediator, a politician, and a visionary – a force for progress. He is more than a proficient combatant (of which we have plenty); he is a trailblazer, etching his legacy into our history.He is Alexander Gideon Lightwood – a father, a champion for the voiceless, and my parabatai. I am committed to ensuring his happiness, a happiness he richly deserves. I'll do whatever it takes to safeguard his hard-won achievements, even if it means sacrificing my own life.

My fury reached an unprecedented level as I approached the designated meeting point of the shadowy figures, the chilling exchange I overheard only fueled the inferno of rage within me. "Is everything ready?" The Shadowhunter demanded to know, an ominous figure that had unknowingly becomethe target of my pursuit. I recognized him as one of Horace Dearborn's lapdogs.

"Cesar is ready. Whenever they reached the last target, he will activate the spell, and Alexander Lightwood will cease to be a problem for us," replied a man, presumably a werewolf, a sinister satisfaction etched across his face. 

A torrent of despair and anger surged within me. My parabatai, the person I cherished above all, was being targeted. The screen nearby provided a cruel juxtaposition – Alec and the faerie representing the Wild Hunt were the last contestants standing in the coliseum, bows poised for an imminent clash.

"There won't be a mediator of peace anymore, and war will rule our world again," added a female vampire with a malevolent chuckle. Dread overwhelmed me as they declared, "That is the target. Cesar activate the spell now!"

Unable to bear the impending catastrophe, I emerged from the shadows, brandishing my seraph blade, and prepared for a confrontation. This wasn't the meticulously crafted plan we had devised, but when had I ever adhered strictly to rules? My inner scoff echoed – I would forge my path.

"You will pay for trying to hurt my parabatai!" I declared vehemently, charging towards them with a determination born out of love and a fierce desire to protect Alec.

The Shadowhunter attempted to stop my progress, but his feeble attempt only highlighted the decline of Nephilim prowess in their forties. Swiftly dispatching him, I turned my attention to the retreating werewolf and vampire, who had chosen cowardice over confrontation.The cowardly escape left me alone with the warlock, Cesar, who employed his trickery, conjuring smoke to distract me and facilitating their escape.

"Dam it!" I muttered, frustrated by the missed opportunity. "I didn't secure any prisoners for bargaining or information! Alec will be displeased, especially since I did not follow his plan and failed to gain the information he needed."

As my gaze shifted to the screen, Penhallow appeared with a triumphant smile, announcing, "Ladies and gentlemen! We have our first winner. Alexander Gideon Lightwood won the archery challenge!" 

A surge of cheers echoed in the background, but my attention remained fixated on the scene unfolding on the screen. A radiant smile illuminated my face as I watched Alec and Magnus share a heartfelt kiss, with little Max cradled in their arms. It was the epitome of a perfect family, an image of genuine happiness that seemed to transcend the chaos of the Shadow World. 

Surveying my surroundings, my bloodied sword in hand, I made a solemn vow to myself, to Alec, and to Raziel. "I pledge by the angel that I will exert every effort to ensure your happiness, Alec, and safeguard the well-being of your family."

With my promise resonating in my mind, I pivoted on my heels and retraced my steps back to Clary. The battle might have been won, but there was still much work to be done and plans to be forged. Yet,in this moment, we will celebrate the victory of my parabatai.