Prayer Beads

She didn't know how long she was there in that room, trapped and bound in the dark magic seal. Strands of Eldritch magic wound around her arms and legs, restraining her. She was completely vulnerable to her captors. Runes were painted on her skin in black ink—prayers and sealing spells, intended to placate her and whatever demon master she supposedly hailed. They were treating her like an animal.

Another person dressed in wine red robes—a signature of an apprentice of the Order of the Mystic Arts—entered the empty room where they were holding her. The acolyte knelt by the woman in the devil trap—the nameless stranger that had come to Kamar-Taj seeking refuge and knowledge. The year was 1854. She had to remember that. Careless of her to assume they'd let someone of her history in. So they'd trapped her here to moniter her. To ensure she didn't do anything untoward, they'd said. They maintained her here, which was courteous. But she didn't know how much longer she could do this.

She let the acolyte hold her upright and drank the water she was offered. Then a man joined them. Young, robust, and almost mystically unparalleled. The Sorcerer Supreme's second in command, the Master Sorcerer of Kamar-Taj. She wished she didn't have to deal with him again. The acolyte left the room. She sat up on her own this time, staring at him as earnestly as she only ever had.

"I'll ask you once more," he spoke calmly. "What is your true name?"

"I don't remember it," she said for the hundredth time.

"You can't be nameless and bound to your master," he said. "I hope you understand the only reason why we're keeping you here is that you're a potential threat. Until we can ensure the safety of the multiverse, we'll be keeping track of you. It's our duty to keep you contained."

"I understand, but my answer remains," she insisted. "I have no name."

His expression was unreadable. "Perhaps your master knows."

She flinched, pressing as far away from him as the trap would allow. That did little to stop him. He pressed one of his hands against her forehead, and she felt a blinding pain there as he summoned the mark of the Dark Dimension once more. He'd done this before to no avail. No one would believe her when she said she wasn't a follower of Dormammu. They didn't believe anything she said. And after days of this treatment, she was beginning to regret coming here at all.

"Master Amir. Enough."

The two of them looked to the door as another man—one the woman had never seen before—joined them. This man was much older and feeble-looking. But he was unmistakable in his expression and how he carried himself. The Sorcerer Supreme himself had come out of hiding to see their captive.

"Master, you've returned," Amir backed away from the woman and bowed reverently. The woman doubled over in the most respectful bow she could manage in her position. The Sorcerer Supreme knelt before her and pulled her upright very gently. The binding around her arms and legs disappeared. She looked frantically from her freedom to the man again, confused and a bit wary.

"Master!" Amir tried to caution him, but the Sorcerer Supreme just raised a hand to silence him. Even as the woman bowed again, trembling, he only comforted her and ordered the acolyte to bring her a set of novice robes and to prepare a room.

He knew her, he'd told her later. The evidence of her affiliations were unforseen but undeniable—she was a witch who contact the Dark Dimension, but not a follower of Dormammu. That made her rare, and powerful. He wondered if Dormammu even knew who she was. The Sorcerer Supreme had seen her for what she truly was, and knew that she had high promise as a follower of Kamar-Taj. It was this one moment, the one chance she was given, that was pivotal to who she became.

Now, she was in the same situation. But another's fate relied on her this time.

Infirmary

After the meeting, Hazel was sent to class. That's another three hours she'd be away from the Ancient One, and she grew more and more anxious with each passing moment. Whenever she tried to replay the events of last night and think about how and why and what she was to do now, calculating cause and effect and consequences... In the end, she couldn't make her decision until she saw the Ancient One at least one last time. And until she did, each moment passing by was a liability.

Hazel didn't let on, though. If anything, she only seemed a little sickly to her audience of classmates and masters. She was halfway through combat class when it happened. Luckily, the masters didn't think less of her when she began to break down.

She was sparring with Lucas, and Master Junzo was watching them. Hazel had been off her game in all of her classes today, but such a thing couldn't be concealed or dismissed in a class like this. Lucas got the upper hand against her and managed to pin her on her knees in a choke-hold. Usually in this position, Hazel had a reputation for thrashing, summoning some mystic weapon, or just shapeshifting into a smaller or much larger animal to free herself. However, today, she hardly fought it. Lucas expected her to surrender.

"Go ahead, kill me," Hazel muttered.

Lucas pushed away from her, startled probably by how earnest she sounded. Hazel sank forward on her hands and knees, spasming with weak coughs and trembling in every limb from stress and fatigue. Master Junzo stepped forward.

"Hazel!" he started in a reproachful tone. But he didn't scold her.

"We're just training, Hazel," Lucas said, inching closer to her and clutching the nape of his neck. "What's gotten into you?"

She didn't react. Master Junzo looked at her for another moment before nodding to Lucas.

"Find another partner," he ordered. "I'm taking her inside."

"What?" Hazel raised her head, but Master Junzo was already pulling her gently to her feet.

"You're done for the day," he kept a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. "Can you walk?"

"Y-yeah."

"Hazel."

She heard his voice like he was very far away. And then the dizziness hit. Hazel lurched forward until the master held her other shoulder. Her head hung, and she wrapped her shaking arms around herself.

"I don't feel so good," she murmured. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's..."

Master Junzo brought Hazel inside. The shade from the summer heat was a relief, but being indoors made Hazel feel like she was suffocating. The sanctuary was not pleased with her like it had once been. Before she knew it, she was in the healer's ward sitting on a cot, and Master Junzo hovered over her, one hand holding her upright by her shoulder.

"She felt faint while training," he was explaining to Kai. The healer knelt in front of Hazel and gave her a cursory check-over, putting a hand to her forehead and checking her pulse at her wrist. Her pulse and temperature were a little higher than usual, but it wasn't anything concerning, especially considering she'd just been sparring. Kai retrieved a rag from the cupboard and soaked it in cold water from the tap.

"Could just be the heat," he shrugged, handing the rag to Hazel. "Hold that against your forehead."

"Or stress?" Junzo guessed. They were alone; there were no students around to hear them. Kai glanced around the room and out the door just to ensure they were alone.

"Perhaps," he allowed. He looked down at Hazel, who hadn't moved a muscle. "Hazel. Do as I say."

When she still didn't react, Kai knelt in front of her and took the rag, muttering something to himself. He didn't have the patience for this today. Hazel jerked away from him, staring stubbornly at the wall.

"Fine," Kai snapped, getting to his feet and abandoning her for returning to the medicine cabinet. Hazel flinched.

"Your bedside manner leaves something to be desired," Junzo said to the healer.

"Then you take care of her. She's fine."

Master Junzo looked back at Hazel. He couldn't see her expression, but she was trembling and twitching. He sighed and sat down next to her, taking the rag from her lap and brushing it against her hands and wrists. The Ancient One had spoiled her. Junzo would've considered that Hazel was sheltered because of the Ancient One, but he knew better. He'd seen the kinds of things Hazel fought by herself before coming to Kamar-taj.

This was her sanctuary. And without the Ancient One here, Hazel was exposed to the dangers of low morale. Was that truly all it took to destroy her?

After some persuading, Junzo got Hazel to look at him and let him run the rag across her face. She never looked at him. He remembered what she'd said—just kill me.

Junzo got to his feet carefully so as not to startle her again.

"Get some rest," he said. She didn't fight him, lying down immediately. "And don't worry yourself sick. We'll find her."

In spite of herself, Hazel let out a half-hearted scoff of a chuckle. If only finding her was the solution. Hazel reclined on the bed, letting the cold cloth cover her eyes. As she was, she didn't realize how Master Junzo stared at her carefully.

As he left the healer's ward, he ran into Reiko. Class must've ended by now. Junzo stopped her from entering the room, guiding her down the hall with him instead.

"She's resting now," he explained. "She's fine."

"Is she?" Reiko didn't look very relieved. "I was worried when you took her in. I didn't think much of it until now, but I think she was sick last night too."

"Last night?" Master Junzo raised his eyebrows. "What happened last night?"

"She stayed with me," Reiko replied. "She came to me at about two in the morning. I think it's weird she didn't go to the Ancient One, unless they had a fight or something."

"Oh," was all he thought to say. He didn't dare lie to her, but he still didn't think disclosing their situation to anyone other than a master was wise. But with this new information, a seed of confusion and doubt was placed. Last night...

Poacher's Pride

The Ancient One's eyes eased open when she felt something warm and wet on her arm. She half-expected to see some animal crouched over her testing to eat her, but it was no such thing. Human hands, only a few shades less pale than hers, holding a moist, warm cloth and brushing her clammy skin gently. The Ancient One rubbed her eyes and looked up at the person who the hands belonged to. Hazel.

"Haalaan."

"Shh," Hazel hushed gently. She retracted her hands and grabbed something from behind her. "Sit up."

The Ancient One folded one of her arms beneath her and lurched upright. Her body ached from that small effort, but Hazel didn't do this to torment her. Hazel placed a pillow under the Ancient One's head and guided her back down gently. The Ancient One sank into the soft cushion with a sigh, savoring any measily comfort she could get.

"That's better," Hazel whispered, and continued her work. After wiping down the Ancient One's arms, face, and neck, Hazel set the rag aside and curled up on her side by the trap. The Ancient One mimicked her, both to keep an eye on her and because she welcomed the girl's tender behavior. Even if it was an act. Even if it was just to lull her into a false sense of security. A saying reoccurred to her in that moment—you know what you've done, and you are going to hell.

Hazel had put some music on, or it had just come on by itself. It was nice having something to help her keep track of the time, something to break up the monotony of this all. Radiating from the speakers, a soft ballad full of ugly words sung by a baby-angel-voiced woman. White trash, Hazel had called her. White trashing pagan baby... No, that was herself.

"Is this real?" the Ancient One whispered. With how her mind travelled, nothing really felt the same as it once was. She couldn't tell what was real. She couldn't remember parts that were real. She had to be asleep again.

"Just a little bit," Hazel replied. She reached into the trap again and took the Ancient One's hand. Taking it and pressing it to her lips. The Ancient One was indifferent.

Tears stung Hazel's eyes. "Why are you like this?"

You'll have to reconcile with her eventually, if she's allowed to live.

"Why won't you just tell me?" Hazel asked.

"Why won't you release me?" the Ancient One returned. "You know I won't kill you. Why won't you just release me?"

Hazel whispered back, "Because I know we'll lose each other."

Confront

Master Junzo credited Hazel's odd behavior to grief. He knew that while Hazel was young and relatively new to Kamar-Taj, she'd cared so deeply for the Ancient One that she was willing to die to save her in a heartbeat. But Hazel's attitude reached a point where it went deeper than mere denial.

He tried to be sympathetic. Hazel acted upset sometimes, like during training. However, the things Reiko told him that afternoon unnerved him. He tried to withhold his doubts, but it refused to let him go. He had to be sure.

She wouldn't die for me.

Hazel was murmuring quietly to herself and pacing in a corridor when Master Junzo found her.

"Miss Grace, I didn't think you'd be out this late."

Hazel jumped and whirled around to face the master.

"Master Junzo," she bowed her head politely.

"Are you lost?"

"No," she shook her head.

Master Junzo narrowed his eyes. "Do you need me to take you to your room?"

"No!" Hazel blurted out. If anyone went to her room, anyone at all... "I don't need your help. I was just heading to the library anyway."

"Hazel. Mind your tone," he reprimanded. It wasn't her tone he had a problem with.

Hazel struggled to look like she wasn't lying to him, but it did little good. She'd forgotten about his abilities, just for a second. Master Junzo continued, his voice softer.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes..."

"Good. I only wanted to make sure there was nothing more on your mind."

Hazel gave him an odd, doe-eyed look. "What makes you think that? There's just a lot on my mind in general is all..."

"Is that really it?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Hazel narrowed her eyes. What had she done wrong?

"You spoke the truth during the counsil the other day," he said. "Since when do you believe the Ancient One wouldn't sacrifice herself for you?"

Hazel clenched her teeth. So that's what this is about. "She wouldn't. You know that."

"But you never thought that before," he insisted. "You were constantly worrying over her, ensuring that she didn't do any such thing. You were convinced wholeheartedly that you were seeing her die and that you had something to do with it."

Hazel felt a pang of something in her chest, as if she'd been punched there. Her voice was monotonous. "Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm lying. The Ancient One doesn't care about me, Junzo. If she did, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"And I want to know what made you think that." The master was getting frustrated now. Hazel shrank back as far as she could, biting the inside of her cheek to stay silent.

She tried to kill me, she tried to kill me!

"You're hiding something. You know something about the Ancient One that you haven't been inclined to share."

Hazel faced Junzo once more.

"Look," Hazel sighed to calm herself. "I'm sorry that Reiko got hurt because of me, and I'm sorry the Ancient One got hurt because of me. But I swear to you, I'm doing all I can."

"What's that supposed to—"

She turned away from him and bolted down the corridor, ignoring the master calling after her.

The Book of Cagliostro

"Can I ask you a question?"

Wong turned away from the desk with a start. Hazel was standing by him casually and a little sheepishly.

"Don't do that again," Wong warned. "And I will answer to the best of my ability."

"What was on those pages that Kaecilius stole?" Hazel asked.

Wong stared at her. "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know what we're up against," Hazel replied. "I know I'm not... one of you, but if I'm here now, after all this, I want to know what kind of situation we're in without her."

Wong raised his eyebrows. Finally, after a moment of consideration, he pushed off the desk.

"Come with me."

He led her to the back of the library, to the globe room. Wong stood by the pillar and activated the globe while Hazel lingered a few feet away. They both gazed up at the map as three large shields lit up the surface.

"What exactly do you know about the Order of the Mystic Arts?" Wong asked.

"You're a group of powerful sorcerers, and you clean up your own messes," Hazel mumbled uncertainly. "I thought Kamar-taj was just a school, really..."

"In a way," Wong allowed. "But we usually don't teach people in your situation. We train sorcerers to ascend to master ranks, and then they take their places in our order protecting this world from otherworldly threats."

"Like... magic Avengers," Hazel said.

Wong just nodded. While rare, the perks of every aspect of Hazel's background made themselves apparent.

"Among these threats, we consider timeline and reality distress, beings from other worlds, including your Main Guest and Dormammu, who hails from the Dark Dimension."

Hazel nodded impatiently. The itch under her skin was starting again. She needed to get back to her room. She needed to get back. But not until her question was answered. Just answer the question...

"And the pages?" she prompted.

"A ritual," Wong replied. "For contacting the Dark Dimension. With those pages, Kaecilius will bring Dormammu into our world, and it will be destroyed."

Hazel felt a burning tingling race up her spine like a hot chill. It wasn't just her own dread and fear, but the pressure of the sanctuary on her. She could feel its eyes boring into her, the pressure and threat of anguish and death. She could hear its voice like a thousand tiny whispers rasping through the cold halls. Release her. Release her. I won't protect you if you do not release her.

"I shouldn't have told you this."

Hazel's head snapped back up as she looked at Wong in terror. For a moment she thought he might threaten her, like their situation was a big secret and she'd be in trouble if she told anybody. But Wong had meant nothing of the sort.

"You're worried sick as it is," he continued. "You're not a master here, and if you're leaving soon, as you'd formerly planned, this is none of your concern."

"I'm not leaving," Hazel shook her head. "Not yet. I..."

I care? Is that what she wanted to say? Was it really so strange or so unsolicited coming from her mouth that she couldn't utter the words? Hazel trailed off and looked ahead again, averting her gaze and letting her absence of action protect her.

"Either way, we've spoken about it enough," Wong concluded.

Hazel just nodded.

Hey

The Ancient One was sprawled on the floor, tiredly picking at the carpet with shaking fingers. Almost a whole day had gone by, and without food, water, mystic eather, or rest, she was sensitive to her own mortal inadequacies. They only served as another thorn in her side until she could decide what to do about this.

The Ancient One had curled up on her side, still lying on a pillow she didn't remember having before. She was exhausted from a sleepless night, but it seemed that she wouldn't get peace even now. With her trapped and no incense or candle burning to ward off the Guests, little creatures from other dimensions could breach the room whenever they felt like it. She felt a hoard of things around her now—tiny, chattering, like little rats with human voices and the conscious of creatures with a vice for causing others pain.

They couldn't cross into the trap, thankfully, but they were creative beasts. They'd scrounged for anything in the room they could reach her with-pencils, rulers, paintbrushes-and tried prodding a reaction out of her. Finally, irritated, the Ancient One sat upright and tried grasping at one of the paintbrushes they'd been poking her with for the last few minutes. The creatures retreated momentarily, chuckling and squealing with delight as they kept their tools out of her reach. This was ridiculous, being taunted by such small things.

The creatures froze and scattered, disappearing in the cracks between the stones. When she heard the lock on the door scraping and clicking, the Ancient One jolted upright again, staving off the sudden rush of dizziness that followed. Not a moment later, Hazel entered the room.

"Thank god you're still alive," Hazel breathed. The Ancient One was surprised at Hazel's relief, but she wasn't complaining. Hazel dropped her bag on the desk and fished around in it for a moment before retrieving a paper plate, a biscuit, and a plastic bag of sliced fruit. She prepared the plate of food and set it down on the ground, crouching and inching it closer to the trap whilst staying as far away from the Ancient One as she could manage.

A little, excessive, don't you think? the Ancient One thought, but she didn't dare tease Hazel yet. Food. She was going to get food! The Ancient One didn't move very quickly as she reached out and took the plate. Restraint, so she didn't startle Hazel. Hazel added a glass of water to the spread.

"Did you tell the others?" the Ancient One asked as she ate.

"No," Hazel shook her head, tucking one leg beneath her and folding her other one under her chin. "I actually hid it from them. They called a meeting this afternoon about it. Percival thinks you went to Oriishii."

"Mordo held a counsel with all the masters?" the Ancient One internally cursed. Had she managed to free herself before the masters noticed her absence, The Ancient One might've been able to create an excuse for Hazel's following disappearance. But now that all the masters were informed and Hazel had spoken to every one of them…. Though, to be fair, if Hazel had defended the Ancient One as thoroughly as she claimed, maybe there was hope the Ancient One and Hazel could salvage everything they had. This could be dismissed to everyone but themselves.

"What did you tell them?"

"Nothing, really," Hazel replied. "You know them; they wouldn't listen to me without you there to manage it. They came to their own conclusions, but they're looking elsewhere for you."

"You didn't tell them of... this?" the Ancient One was skeptical.

"Why would I?" Hazel asked. "It wouldn't do anyone any good if your entire order turned against you."

"So what do you plan to do with me?"

Hazel sipped her glass of water and raised her eyebrows.

"Depends. Are you going to kill me if I let you go?"

The Ancient One cursed herself. Of course that's what Hazel thought it was. She shouldn't have taken a chance like that so carelessly.

"That depends on you," the Ancient One replied. "If you truly had the resolve to protect yourself from me, you would've killed me already."

"I don't want to kill you, Ancient One," Hazel shrugged and stood.

"Why not?"

"Because… you're my friend." Hazel couldn't believe she was saying all this in this situation. "You're one of the only people I know who tolerates me. But if you're going to put that all aside because I know your secret…."

"It's not that," the Ancient One implored. "I didn't try to kill you."

"Oh?" Hazel didn't sound convinced. "Then what were you going to do? Once I was knocked out? I didn't have any weapons on me; you couldn't break the trap. Unless you, you know… broke my bones. Ripped one out, snapped it in half. Stabbed the sharper tip through the carpet until you reached the trap—"

"Stop!" the ancient One felt sick. She could hear it, she could feel it all. "I'm not one of your Guests, Hazel. And if you truly think I would do such a thing to you after everything I've done for you, then why are you keeping me here like this?"

Why didn't you tell anyone? Hazel leaned back against the desk. Her voice was quiet when she spoke again. Airy, in a way.

"I went to the library today," she started. "Master Junzo was following me. I didn't want him to find you here."

The Ancient One was astounded by her tone, her stance, her nonchalance. The way she acted like nothing was amiss. They were just master and student again, weren't they? Speaking of their days to one another...

"Wong told me about what you did here," Hazel continued. "Protecting the world from great otherworldly threats..."

"What do you want, Hazel?" the Ancient One stared at her, trying to catch her eye, not begging. "Don't you know enough of me? Of all this?" She gestured to the room around her. "To make your decision?"

What more could she do?

"Why did you waste your time on me?" Hazel whispered. "Losing sleep, risking harm to yourself, potentially endangering your followers... You said 'if there's a way to save you, I will find it.'"

She met the Ancient One's gaze for the first time. I refuse to let you die, she'd said.

"I'm of my word," the Ancient One replied quietly, like that was all there was to it. Hazel knew better.

And that was enough. The Ancient One never said anything. Maybe that was just her way. Hazel moved forward slowly, and the Ancient One braced herself.

"Promise you won't kill me?" Hazel asked quietly, taking the athame from her belt. There was doubt in her still, but it wasn't sincere. It wasn't logical, she knew better...

The Ancient One could almost smile. "I couldn't if I tried, Haalaan."

She didn't want to.

Hazel knelt by the trap, and the Ancient One waited patiently with her hands folded in her lap. Hazel's hands trembled, her heart raced, but she'd found resolve. If she died now, at least the world would be a bit better off for it. Now that she thought of it, it was silly of her. The Masters of the Mystic Arts—the Ancient One herself—were powerful, but Hazel had connections to the outside world and the other world. If she were killed, it would cause more trouble than it was worth.

Dissonant guilt replaced any doubt or malice or hatred towards the Ancient One. Maybe that's why she didn't flinch when the Ancient One reached for her, slowly this time, as if afraid of scaring her off. The Ancient One took Hazel's hands in her own, clasping them over the handle of the knife. Hazel looked at her, and the Ancient One's expression was unreadable, but not malicious. Maybe she just wanted to savor this another moment.

Hazel drove the blade through the ground. The trap dissipated instantly, and the Ancient One felt her power rush back to her all at once. She reeled back from the suddenness of it all, and Hazel all but collapsed against her, wrapping her arms around the Ancient One's waist tightly, trembling, the athame slipping from her hands. She felt the Ancient One's hands, gentle as ever, against the small of her back and in her hair.

Her faith paid off.