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It Began with a Goodbye

by Riley Berg

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Chapter Five

"In exchange for what?"

Strange straightens a little. "For teaching me your sorcery."

"You are a Master of the Mystic Arts."

"That does not mean I have nothing left to learn."

"Of course it doesn't. Even the Ancient One herself was still a student of the Arts. But Masters train together, exchange knowledge, relate experience. One may be considered greater than the other in power, learning, or wisdom, but they are of equal status, not teacher and student. Yet you imply that I have something to teach you as if I am above you."

"I believe you do."

I raise my eyebrows.

"The ceremony you performed for the Ancient One," he begins. "You levitated and moved her, created a platform and then a sarcophagus out of nothing, and your sorcery was… invisible all the while. I thought that it was just the nature of the ceremony until I happened to return to Kamar-Taj the next day to exchange books with Wong and saw you create a portal. Again, your sorcery was without the light that manifests when everyone else uses their spells, the Ancient One included. Not only that, but that time I noticed something else: you did so without a sling-ring."

I look at him in disbelief. "So you want me to teach you to use 'invisible' sorcery, as you call it, and how to create portals without a sling-ring?"

"And other spells beyond the defense, attack, and portal spells I have been studying, including how to create something from nothing," he adds.

"Nothing is created from nothing."

"I thought you'd say something like that."

I sigh. "You are correct that I am averse to returning to Charles's, and that I wish to stay near Kamar-Taj. And I cannot take from you the knowledge that you have gained about my… weakness, and how I overcome it. But I," I tilt my head, "have a rule against allowing men to be my… rejuvenation." Something is compelling me to break it, but I am not going to tell him that yet.

Strange opens his mouth to speak, but I silence him with a gesture.

"And I cannot guarantee that I can live up to my end of the deal. I can help you as one Master helps another, yes, but I do not know if I can teach, or if you can learn, 'my' sorcery. By entering into this agreement, you are offering something very valuable to me and very awkward for you, without assurances of gaining anything in return. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he replies too quickly.

"Strange! I am serious. If you are incapable of learning this, it will not be because you aren't smart enough or committed enough or… believing enough. It will be because of something you cannot control, cannot overcome. This is a game of chance, not a test of ability."

Strange looks at me half disbelieving, half curious, but I see that his determination has only solidified. At least he is more solemn when he replies, "Yes," again.

"How long did you sleep beside me?"

He seems confused at the apparent change of subject, but replies, "The whole night you were brought here, and the next night as well."

I usually sleep next to my chosen companion nightly, but I wonder if I can longer than that. I used to be able to, but now… things are different. Maybe every other night? But then if a circumstance arrives that takes him or me away for a day or two, I might be pushing my luck.

"It will have to be nightly."

"What?"

"Every night. You will have to stay beside me every night. If you or I have something that calls us away, or just want a night away occasionally, that should be fine, but for the most part: every night. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he replies with slight hesitation.

"Do you agree?"

"Yes," he replies more firmly.

"What is your full name?"

"What?"

"Your full name? I don't know you well enough to have an informal agreement. I need your full name to have a formal one."

"Stephen Vincent Strange."

I extend my hand and he grasps it, but I neither shake it or let go.

"You, Stephen Vincent Strange, agree to maintain," uncomfortably, "close proximity to me nightly, save for agreed-upon exceptions, and in exchange I," I swallow the anxiousness in my throat, "Aphrodite Areia Sophia, will act as your partner in training and attempt to the best of my ability to facilitate your learning of the Mystic Arts as known to the Overseers." I think I worded that as clearly as possible.

Strange shakes my hand once, sealing our agreement.

"One more thing."

"Yes?" he inquires warily.

"May I call you Master… Stephen? This 'Dr. Strange' business is too… mundane." But I know you don't like 'Master Strange.' Wong warned me about that.

After an almost inaudible sigh, he agrees.

I look up. "Thank you, Master Stephen."

He lets go of my hand and takes a small step back, a look of surprise on his face.

I tilt my head at him. "What?"

"N—nothing. That's just," he composes himself, "the first time you made eye contact with me. Your eyes are… very green."

Is that the first time I made eye contact with him? I suppose it might be. Even after stepping through the doorway that I knew would affect the paths available to me, the feeling of turmoil hovering around me did not entirely cease. I still felt unsure and uncomfortable and as if I did not know what I was doing. The peace at my center was not enough to quell it.

But now it is. Or the turmoil no longer has a reason for existence. I no longer feel disconnected from my surroundings. I still do not know the answers, or maybe even the questions, I seek, but somehow I feel as if I am on the right path to discover them.

"I'm sorry, I forgot I wasn't disguising my appearance as usual," I say as I recall that I am not showing the faux brown eyes that I normally disguise myself with. "Humans tend to find my eyes disconcerting." I turn back to Stephen. "But those that are… gifted tend to be more accepting."

He ignores my teasing.

"Why do you disguise yourself?"

"I have my reasons," I reply vaguely. "But you needn't worry about it. Since… Mother's death, I have felt it inappropriate to manifest myself in any form but my natural one."

"Manifest? You mean you don't use colored contacts, but… sorcery?"

"No," I laugh, thinking I know where his thoughts are headed, "I cannot teach you that. It is not a Mystic Art, but rather a… gift I was born with."

Stephen replies with silence and I decide I need to make tea, but before I can escape, Stephen interrupts with, "Humans?"

I look back at him. "What?"

"You said 'humans' tend to find your eyes disconcerting."

"So?"

"Humans don't talk like that."

I smile. "No, they don't."

And then I go make some tea.