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Stephen was in his room, studying the books he was given

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Stephen was in his room, studying the books he was given. The more days he stayed in Kamar-Taj the more he learned about the Mystic Arts.

In those few days, he was training, trying to create a transmutation circle was the first he attempted. But he failed countless times. That night, after he had finished the last book he was reading, he was ready to turn in for the night. But one look in his quivering hands, he had decided to practice. He did what was told of him to do, only to create small sparks. He threw his arms down in frustration but at least he had progressed.

He did it a couple more times, only to have the same result over and over. When he did it the last time, he slammed his hand on his bedside table. A loud yelp escaped his lips as he brought his hand back against his chest.

"Stephen?"

His head perked up at the sound of Lenore's voice. When she knocked on the door, Stephen left his bed and made his way to the door. His eyes quickly fell upon Lenore with a concerned look on her face.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, "I heard something."

"I-It's nothing." he replies as his eyes scan her from head to toe, she wasn't dressed in her usual attire. He then realized that it was evening and Lenore must have woken up from his sudden outburst. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was back from the library to return some of the books I borrowed."

At that, he let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God."

"What we're you doing in there? You sounded hurt."

"Oh it's nothing, just—" he leaned his elbow on the threshold but slipped. Thankfully, he quickly composed himself and shot Lenore an timid smile. "I was practicing."

"That was some practice." she remarked, chuckling softly. Stephen found himself smiling at the sound of it. "Well, good luck with that. But try to keep it down, you're lucky I was the only one who heard it."

Stephen nodded before Lenore walked away, he lingered on the door for a bit, contemplating. But after standing by the door for q few minutes, he came to a decision.

***

"Mister Strange." the man behind the desk acknowledged, turning around to meet him halfway.

"Uh... Stephen, please." Stephen said while placing all the books down, "And you are?"

"Wong."

"Wong." Stephen repeated, nodding his head, "Just Wong? Like Adele?" he asked while chuckling at his joke. "Or... Aristotle. Drake. Bono. Eminem."

Wong remained stone-faced. Stephen's soft laughter died out while Wong pulled the books, closer to him, lifting it up to him to read out the titles.

𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 ۞ 𝙙𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚Where stories live. Discover now