04. Wong

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The next day, Genevieve led Stephen into the main area where he was met by the Ancient One. Genevieve didn't know how any of this would go, but she hoped for the best.

"Go. Sit." Genevieve told Stephen and he followed her orders, for once.

Sitting there in front of the Ancient One, Stephen didn't know whether or not she was judging him. He was aware of the fact that Genevieve was watching, so he had to be on his best behavior.

"The language of the mystic arts is as old as civilization." the Ancient One began, "The Sorcerers of Antiquity called the use of this language 'spells'. But if that word offends your modern sensibilities, you can call it a program." Stephen nodded, understanding what she was saying, "The source code that shapes reality."

Stephen watched as the Ancient One began to move her hands as orange energy appeared from it, "We harness energy drawn from other dimensions of the multiverse to cast spells, to conjure shields, and weapons to make magic."

The energy the Ancient One had create was pressing against Stephen's face. He stared at it in awe. Genevieve watched from the sidelines, surprised that the man in the room hadn't said anything snarky yet.

The energy disappeared and Stephen was still awestruck. He blinked a few time to recollect his thoughts, "But...even if my fingers could do that, my hands would just be waving in the air. I mean, ah, how do I get from here to there?"

Genevieve smiled, knowing that this was the first step in Stephen letting someone else take control.

"How did you get to reattach severed nerves and put a human spine back together, bone by bone?" the Ancient One asked him.

"Study and practice. Years of it." Stephen answered simply.

The Ancient One nodded her head, and that was Genevieve's cue, "Follow me."

Stephen stood up beside her and followed, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Stephen followed Genevieve like a lost puppy. He had that lovesick emotion to the point where he would do anything for her. He also wanted to make up for the horrible way he had treated her in his flat.

The two walked through the courtyard, where other individuals were socializing and some practicing. They continued walking until they reached their destination.

"The library?" Stephen asked, noticing what the place was.

"What a better place to start? That and the fact you have no idea what you're doing." Genevieve responded.

"And how long have you been a...sorceress?" Stephen questioned her, since he didn't know much about her early life.

"Basically since I could walk. My father was the famous Arpolo, a soldier during the Vietnam war who finally found peace with his memories through the mystic arts. My mother was a sorceress as well." Genevieve answered. She loved talking about her parents even though they were gone.

"Don't mind me asking this, but what happened?"

"They died. Together." Genevieve paused, "If I die, I want to know that it's beside someone I love." she looked at Stephen, "Someone I care about. Just like my parents."

Strangelove [1] Stephen StrangeWhere stories live. Discover now