Something was amiss. He knew it was. From the moment he stepped into the surrounding realm, something was off. This diverged from any world he observed, any timeline he survived.
He should have never taken that shamans potion.
Empty promises of locating his focus, of absolving himself... all for naught.
He knew better.
Rubbing his chin, Dr. Stephen Strange admired the never-fading speck of light, invariably just past the horizon. Walking toward it never revealed it closer. Running was insignificant.
He meditated. He tried magic. He cussed a few times under his breath. He even tried to shout at the churning darkness. He had enough.
He had to be tricked. There was just no path out.
Three weeks ago he opened his door to a talented young woman, her blood belonging to a long line of healers and soothsayers. Nothing about her read anything unusual from her just wishing to study further about the magic she possessed. Many that came to him had no dominance in magic, just like he didn't at first. But she... she was extraordinary. She was born into it, was raised with it, and lived within it further than he conceivably could understand. She uttered no spells, bore no rings or talismans, it was just as much a part of her as breathing or walking.
Her dark skin was covered in spots of Vitiligo, and maybe it was the doctor's life he previously knew, but he felt like maybe he could support her more with it. All this time and with all he learned to be Sorcerer Supreme, and he thought she desired to be fixed. Maybe this was her karma saying she was magnificent the way she was.
Looking at his shaking hands he exhaled, his chest heaving for a simple breath of a moment, then distributed into the unchanging sky.
"I..." he murmured into the oblivion "I am sorry. I didn't require changing you, just myself."
Nothing... or so he thought. When his eyes cast toward the dingy yellow light once more, the black mists that danced around it displayed something else. Two great towers on either side of the forever setting light.
"Those weren't there a few moments ago..." he rubbed his scruffy chin and started walking toward it, the sound of his voice echoing in the vast expanse that was an open-air grave.
He didn't hurt. He was neither hot nor cold, hungry or thirsty. He wasn't even sure he was alive. It felt like no ground was beneath his feet, and the light that looked like dark clouds around it swirled had no even promise of warmth or hope. All he could do was walk. Step by step, toward whatever the twisted newly formed towers that cradled the light were. Slowly.
That's when the voices started.
Authors note** this is very short, I wanted to do a teaser to see if anyone would be interested in the continuation! Please like and comment if you want more! I literally cut this in half as a test ~ love you! Polly