Stephen turned into an alleyway. He knew he was close to his destination and couldn't quit, but the sun was too hot and he couldn't bear its pounding heat any longer.

A sharp sound made him turn around, only to find that he was cornered by three guys, armed and dangerous.

"Guys, I… I don't have any money." Stephen said, rasing his arms I'm surrender as he backed away from the three men.

"Your watch." One of the men said in a deep, heavily accented voice, pointing to Stephen's wrist.

"No, please. It's all I have left." Stephen pleaded, covering his watch with a shaky hand.

"Your watch." The man demanded again, stepping forward and grabbing the front of Stephen's shirt.

Gasping, Stephen grabbed the man's wrist. "All right, all right, fine!"

Stephen felt his watch being ripped off his wrist as the man threw him to the ground.

Stephen felt a foot dig into his side and he let out a muffled sob. Another kick found his stomach. The kicks continued as Stephen desperately tried to defend himself from the harsh blows, curling up as much as possible against the cold wall.

A loud grunt sounded from above him and the assault stopped. After a minute of silence, Stephen cautiously looked up and saw no one there. Deciding it was safe, Stephen pushed himself into a sitting position.

The reason the men had disappeared, Stephen found, was a dark-skinned man in what seemed to be dark green robes, fighting off the muggers.

The man only stilled long enough to watch the three men run off, then picked something off the ground and walk to Stephen.

He held out the watch and Stephen took it, dismayed at the cracked screen, but thanking the man. The stranger smiled and help Stephen to his feet. "You're looking for Kamar-Taj?"

Stephen followed the dark-skinned man –he introduced himself as Baron Mordo– through the narrow, crowded, and lively streets of Kathmandu until they reached a set of doors so similar to the houses around it that it would be impossible to find unless you knew what you were looking for.

"Kamar-Taj." Mordo announced.

Stephen stared at him. "A-are you sure you got the right place? That one looks a little more...Kamar-Taj-y." he motioned to the Buddhist temple across the street, statues on display, bald monks meditating in the safety of the shade, and incess clouds floating around.

Mordo barely even looked at the temple before he gave Stephen an unamused glare. "I once stood in your place. And I, too, was… disrespectful." The Baron paused, resting a hand on the brass door handle. "So let me offer you some advice: forget everything you think you know."

"Oh, okay, um... alright." Stephen agreed hesitantly.

Mordo nodded, satisfied, and pushed open the door. "The sanctuary of our teacher, the Ancient One."

"The Ancient One? What's his real name?" Stephen asked, Mordo ushering him inside the cool building- a stark contrast to the burning heat outside. Mordo's unamused expression made Stephen duck his head. "Right. Forget everything I think I know. Sorry."

The hallway they had entered led to a large room, much like a classic sitting room. A large table was pressed up against a wall, the chair empty. The room was flooded with natural light, streaming in from the windows. Two figures sat in the middle of the room, murmuring quietly, kneeling on small cushions across from each other.

Walking in, Stephen almost felt a sort of peace wash over him as he looked around. Until Mordo announced his present and the figures stood up. The female one took Stephen's coat off his body and hung it on a coat rack near the door. The other figure pressed a warm cup of tea into his hands.

"Oh, um that you. Both of you. And uh, thank you, Ancient One for... seeing me..." He trailed off, unsure of who or what the Ancient One was and where he, she, it, or they was.

"You're very welcome," said the figure in from of him, pulling off the hood of their yellow robes. Stephen noted that they had no hair. If it was a conscious decision or a side effect of an underlying disease, Stephen didn't know, so he settled for staring at the decidedly feminine face before him. "Thank you, Master Mordo. Thank you, Lucy." The girl bowed her head and left the room, followed by Mordo with a slight nod.

Once they had left, the Ancient One opened their arms. "Mr. Strange!"

"Doctor, actually." Stephen corrected gently.

"Well, no." the Ancient One frowned. "Not anymore, surely. Isn't that why you're here? You've undergone many procedures. Seven, right?"

Stephen nodded, staring into his tea. He took a hesitant sip. "Yeah…Good tea." He looked up at the Ancient One. "What p-"

"I use she/they." The Ancient One said with a smile. "Gender has lost it's meaning over the years, but I prefer to keep at least one reminder of who I was all those years ago." Stephen nodded. "And yes. Good tea. I created the recipe myself."

"Thank you." Stephen offered a small smile. "I'm wondering: did you heal a man named Pangborn? A paralyzed man?"

The Ancient One shrugged. "In a way."

Stephen pointed a shaking finger in her direction. "You helped him to walk again."

"Yes."

Stephen set his tea down, leaning forward as if he were a schoolgirl sharing a secret. "How do you correct a complete C7-C8 spinal cord injury?"

"Oh, I didn't correct it." Stephen's brows furrowed with confusion. "He couldn't walk; I convinced him that he could."

Stephen leaned back, eyes wide. "You're not suggesting it was psychosomatic?"

The Ancient One crossed their legs. "When you reattach a severed nerve, is it you who heals it back together or the body?"

Stephen waved his hand. Why was she asking him that- everyone knew that answer to that question: he learned that the first week of medical school! "It's the cells."

The Ancient One nodded encouragingly. "And the cells are only programmed to put themselves together in very specific ways."

"That's right." Stephen nodded.

Setting their own tea down, the Ancient One cocked her head. "What if I told you that your own body could be convinced to put itself back together in all sorts of ways?"

Stephen stood up angrily. "You're talking about cellular regeneration. That's… bleeding-edge medical tech." Waving his hands, Stephen gestured wildly to the room around him. "Is that why you're working here, without a governing medical board? I mean, just how experimental is your treatment?"

A playful smile settled on the Ancient One's lips. "Quite."

Stephen shakily pointed both hands at the Ancient One. "So, you figured out a way to reprogram nerve cells to self-heal?"

"No, Mr. Strange. I know how to reorient the spirit to better heal the body."

"Spirit… to heal the body." Stephen repeated, watching the Ancient One pull out a binder filled with pictures. A photo album. Great, just what he needed. Stephen exhaled through his nose. "Alright. How do we do that? Where do we start?"

The Ancient One only smiled knowingly, holding up a religious drawing of a man, like something you would find in a catholic church. Stephen stared at it, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

"Don't like that map?"

"Oh, no. It's… it's very good. It's just…you know, I've seen it before." Stephen sneered. "In gift shops."

The Ancient One nodded and flipped through the book, holding up a second picture. "And what about this one?"

"Acupuncture, great." Stephen rolled his eyes.

She flipped some more pages. "What about… that one?" they asked, holding up a third picture with a teasing smile.

"You're showing me an MRI scan?" Stephen scoffed. "I can not believe this."

The Ancient One stood up. "Each of those maps was drawn up by someone who could see in part, but not the whole."

"Listen, lady," Stephen started, already done with this person's bs. "I spent my last dollar getting here on a one-way ticket, and you're talking to me about healing through belief?"

"You're a man who's looking at the world through a keyhole, and you have spent your whole life trying to widen that keyhole. To see more, know more." She took a step towards Stephen who, in turn, backed away. "And now, on hearing that it can be widened in ways you can't imagine, you reject the possibility?"

"No, I reject it because I do not believe in fairy tales about chakras, or energy, or the power of belief. There is no such thing as spirit!" he all but yelled, months of pent up anger and frustration all spilling out. "We are made of matter, and nothing more. We're just tiny, momentary specks within an indifferent universe!"

The Ancient One simply looked at him. "You think too little of yourself."

"Oh, you think you see through me, do you? Well, you don't. But I see through you!" Stephen reached his arm to strike the Ancient One but she caught his hand and in retaliation, shoved him away.

Stephen gasped as he was thrown backwards by the motion. He expected to hit the floor, but instead he seemed to be floating. Everything seemed frozen as Stephen looked down to see his body falling in slow motion.

Suddenly, as soon as it had come, Stephen was back in his own body, gasping for air. "What did you just do to me?"

"I pushed your astral form out of your physical form."

Stephen looked around wildly, spotting his abandoned cup of tea. "What's in that tea? Psilocybin? LSD?"

The Ancient One smiled. Stephen felt she had been doing a lot of that lately. "Just tea. With a little honey."

Chest still heaving, breaths shallow, and adrenaline pumping through his veins, Stephen asked, "What just happened?"

"For a moment, you entered the astral dimension."

"What?" the hairless woman simply stared at him, a knowing smile lingering on her lips. "What?"

"A place where the soul exists apart from the body."

Stephen stared at his hands, struggling to completely calm his still racing heart. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The Ancient One stepped closer to Stephen, a cold glint in her eyes. Stephen felt a sudden, strong urge to turn and run the other way, but something kept his feet frozen to the ground. "To show you just how much you don't know." they placed a hand on the side of his head, near his temple. Stephen's breathing quickened we a cold thumb pressed down on the center of his forehead. "Open your eye!"

Ironically, in the blink of an eye, Stephen found himself miles above the Earth. The glowing blue and green mass was a sight to behold and he stared at it in awe, floating above Asia. His attention was torn from the planet when a beautiful monarch butterfly, somehow surviving the freezing clutches of space, crossed his vision. Stephen reached out to try and touch it, only to be yanked away at the last moment.

Now, he was falling, falling, falling endlessly as wind blew past his face, colors and shapes of every kind, some he could never have even imagined whizzing past him at speeds untold of. Stephen screamed out as he continued to fall, speeding through patterns and holes and gaping mouths he couldn't even begin to explain.

Finally, in a flash of color, it ended. Stephen landed in a chair, panting, his eyes wide with terror and hair windblown. Mordo's voice sounded from above, faint and distant. "His heart rate is getting dangerously high."

"He looks alright to me." The Ancient One said, shrugging.

Without warning, Stephen was off again, in the colorful, disorienting world he had fallen into, unable to do anything but fall.

"You think you know how the world works?" The Ancient One's voice rang out, clear and menacing. "You think that this material universe is all there is? What is real? What mysteries lie beyond the reach of your senses?" Their tone turned informative. "At the root of existence, mind and matter meet. Thoughts shape reality. This universe is only one of an infinite number. Worlds without end. Some benevolent and life-giving, others filled with malice and hunger. Dark places, where powers older than time lie... ravenous and waiting. Who are you in this vast multiverse, Mr. Strange?" The Ancient One's voice enveloped him in his confusion, flowing through his very being, echoing around his brain.

Again, it stopped as soon as it had begun and Stephen fell through the roof into the chair he had previously occupied, if only for a brief moment as he tumbled out of the chair and onto the floor, panting. "Have you seen that before in a gift shop?"

Stephen fell to his arms and knees, gulping in grateful lung fulls of air, his body shaking. When he could breath properly again, he swallowed a few times and looked up at the Ancient One. "Teach me!" he gasped.

The Ancient One tilted her head with an amused smile. She opened her mouth to speak, a mischievous glint shimmering in their green eyes. Stephen felt a flash of hope, maybe-

The Ancient One's gaze switched into a steely hardness, all hints of her previous amusement vanishing. "No."

The hope dissapated and Stephens face fell. The next thing he knew, he was being thrown out out the building and into the crowded streets. "No!" He yelled, scrambling to his feet, running to the door just as it slammed shut in his face. "No! No, no, no! Open the door, please!" Stephen all but sobbed, banging his weak fists on the weathered mahogany, ignoring the sharp pain flaring up at the motion.

"Five hours later, he's still on your doorstep." Mordo explained, walking up to the Ancient One. "There's a strength to him."

"Stubbornness, arrogance, ambition…I've seen it all before." The Ancient One sighed.

"He reminds you of Kaecilius?" Mordo asked, copying the Ancient One's position, hands clasped behind their back.

The Ancient One nodded. "Yes. Kaecilius. But I can not lead another gifted student to power, only to lose him to the darkness."

"You didn't lose me." Mordo offered. "I wanted the power to defeat my enemies. You gave me the power to defeat my demons. And to live within the natural law."

The Ancient One turned to look at Mordo, one of her infamous smiles a mere ghost on their lips. "We never lose our demons, Mordo. We only learn to live above them."

She sighed. "I saw it in Stark as well. I saw the stubbornness, the ambition, but Strange's injury has humbled him. He understands that there is more to the world that meets the eye. A lot more.

Mordo smiled. "No disrespect, but 'a lot' is an understatement."

The Ancient One grinned, letting out a chuckle. "You are quite right."

Mordo smiled slightly, but faded quickly. "And what of Stark?"

The Ancient One bit their lip. "He is desperate. In pain. But he already knew there was more of the world than he could see. He accepts that and he is willing to learn."

"I see."

The Ancient One nodded, striding away and motioning Mordo to follow her.

"Kaecilius still has the stolen pages." Mordo warned. "If he deciphers them, he could bring ruin upon us all. There may be dark days ahead."

"Yes."

Mordo huffed. "Perhaps Kamar-Taj could use a man like Strange."

Stephen sat on the steps of Kamar-Taj, shivering. The sun had gone down an hour ago, taking any and all warmth with it. Dried tears carved rivers into his dirt-caked skin, his head buried in his arms. "Don't shut me out. I've nowhere else to go." he whispered, knowing that no one could hear him, his voice hoarse from his desperate yelling and crying. The door opened abruptly and Stephen fell backwards with a shout of surprise. The warmth of the room immediately ceased his shivering and he looked up at the emotionless face of Mordo. "Thank you." he whispered, closing his eyes in relief.

Mordo sighed, holding his hand out to help Stephen off the floor. Once he was standing again, Mordo began to walk, dusting himself off. Stephen, not wanting to be left behind after five hours of rejection, hurried close behind. The two walked a long time in silence, perhaps ten or twenty y until Mordo stopped in front of a dark, mahogany door not unlike the entrance door.

"Bathe, rest, meditate if you can. The Ancient One will send for you in the morning." Mordo instructed, dropping a silver key into Stephen's hand, wrapped in a slip of paper. Stephen unwrapped the gift and stared at the single word handwritten in black ink.

"Uh, what's this? My mantra?" Stephen asked, confused.

Mordo shot him a tired look. "The Wi-Fi password. We're not savages."

Stephen chuckled slightly at the statement, unlocking his door after Mordo left. Inside, he found a comfy set of pajamas set out- blue satin pants, a cotton shirt, and a blue silk robe. He quickly changed and slipped under the cool covers on the bed, but not before taking his watch out of his bag and shakily placing it on the window sill. He didn't know where he got it or who had given it to him -it had shown up in his watch drawer one night and he didn't know anybody with the initials engraved in the back- but he had always felt a special connection with it dear to his heart.

A silver moonbeam streamed through the criss-crossed window, illuminating the engraved words visible, if only for a moment.

Time will tell how much I love you.

-AES