Consciousness slowly returns and with it, an intense urge to gag entwined with strange queasy sensations of liquids flowing through my insides to .
"So you've finally awoken", a strong male voice drawls. I open my eyes, taking in my new, unfamiliar surroundings alight by several dim yellow wax candles.
Definitely not the strangest of place's I've landed, I decide.
That's when I take note of my hands. Or rather, the fact that they're shackled to a heavyset bedpost by a set of iron chains that bare, odd intricate carvings. Almost rune like.
I test them, wary of breaking through them. No need to escape yet. "You won't escape them", the man says firmly, standing in the flickering shadows of the doorway. "Definitely not in your condition".
I look up at him. A dark skinned man, dressed in vibrantly colored robes that still craftily manages to maintain a dark colour scheme.
His musty yellow eyes show no sign of hate or distain. Only mild interest and curiosity. His tall, stocky build though, contains a curious loose power.
"So where am I", I ask, more curious then intimidated. His sharply defined brows arc slightly as a small smile forms under his dark, neatly trimmed beard. "And you seek no answers to why you are shackled?"
I shrug from my surprisingly comfortable bed. Unusual for someone whose trying to keep someone captive. "Should I", I challenge. "You should have more an answer then I", he says, puzzling me and then disappears through a woven material curtain that I suppose is what makes up the door.
With a heavy grunt, I heave myself into a sitting position. A sharp pain instantly shoots through my chest area, protesting my movements.
Whatever the bloody hell you did, Uatu, I mentally grumble, it had better be worth it.
After a relieving moment, I take a closer look at the room, casted in dancing orange hues of candlelight. A small overworn hand carved table sits to my right hand side, about leveled to my bed's height, with several small flasks of various potions perched atop it. Likely sorts of healing potions and ointments.
A bit farther down the bed, parallel to my knee, lies an elegant chair. Mahogany, covered by a elegant crimson colored cushion.
The rooms itself is about ten strides to any direction. Not very spacious, but not tight either.
"How do you fair", a feminine voice vibrates off stone walls of the room. I turn to the feminine figure who strolls into the room flanked by the earlier man. She, alike him, is dressed in a similar attire, except her robes are a more striking yellow and orange. And she's bald.
Uatu's really topped this landing, I decide. Although he has probably landed me here for a good reason.
"I'm relatively fine", I answer, "except for the weird flowing liquid sensations, and these", I motion with my locked hands. "Ah, yes, the flowing sensations", she smiles softly. "The healing potion will wear off soon enough".
She turns to her escort. "I'll handle him from here". He gives a curt nod, before shooting a momentary glace at me and then spins his heel and strides back out through the entranceway.
"So do you treat everyone you meet with chains", I prompt. "Or is it just my presence that has garnered such great hospitality?"
Frowning, the woman walks up to the chair at my feet and takes a seat. Now visible in the orange glow, her face appears old, just as her voice would have suggested. It however, alike Uatu's, seems… ageless. Like she's been around her share of years and then some.
"We are not inhospitable people", she says firmly, staring into my eye's with mild intensity.
"Well, these" — I raise my hands to make a show of the chains — "beg to differ".
Her gaze momentarily turns away from me, rolling around the room, before coming back to rest on me.
"So tell me", she prompts with a tone of intensity, and I instantly know it's trouble. "How did you travel across the Multi-verse?"
My brain immediately reaches an astute conclusion of: Shit! Because things only get messy when they know things they shouldn't.
Then for a brief moment I contemplate what the best lie would be. I usually use a communicator to contact Uatu, who then teleports me in, but letting anyone in on his existence would be stupid.
I'm left with two options: Total denial that I've traveled it or just straight ignorance of any knowledge of the Multi-verse to begin with. At the end I settle on a third option. A improvisation.
"Teleportation", I say. "Though performance varies". The truth is what I go with. Just without all of its details.
"So what is your business here", she asks. I squirm in my bed, trying to gain a more comfortable position. "Can you at least uncuff me?"
She shrugs. "Not until you've convinced me that you aren't a threat here. I'm sure you can relate. It isn't anything personal".
I roll my eye's. Oh, the irony of this accusation. Here I am, here to save the entire bloody Multi-verse — at least according to Uatu, anyhow — and I'm being accused of being a threat to one.
I do however, need to answer the question if I am to leave this place without any newfound enemies. And taking Uatu's last advice — before he did that weird ritual with the deathly hallows — to get trustworthy allies, and judging by the fact that he landed me here, I decide to trust her with the truth.
"Can you give me your word of secrecy", I ask, breaking the momentary silence.
She stares and me, her brown eyes reading me for any signs of untruth. "That I think I can", she agrees.
And with that, I recount all that Uatu had told me. "So you're telling me the Multi-verse is in danger", she asks, her body slightly tensed. I nod. "That, and that the remedy lies in this multi-verse. Yes".
"That is the good news, I would think", she concludes. I nod in agreement. "I guess so. Except that I haven't got a clue how to find it".
"I'll have to learn the book of Saruka. That'll likely be the best shot at anything".
"So, if we're gonna work together", I prompt, bringing a revolenté charm to my fingertips unlocking the chains, "are we going to be on name basis?"
She locks at me momentarily startled. "So your a wizard", she states. "This earth hasn't seen any for millenniums". I grin. "Well, now it does".
"But anyhow", I say, extending my hands as I far as I could without inflicting too much pain in my chest. "I'm Harry Potter, glad to make your acquaintance".
She leans over and grasps my hand with a surprisingly firm grip. "They call me The Ancient One. Sorcerer Supreme of Middle Earth".
"So your people command magic too", I inquire. In answer, she stands up and makes a circular motion with her right hand, while pointing the pointer and middle finger's of her left hand at the center of the circular motion. And suddenly, with a shower of bright orange sparks, a hole appears — no, not a hole I realize. A portal. One that leads to a cold snowy mountaintop.
"We're magical", she explains. "Just different then your kind". And then suddenly it's gone, closed up with another shower of sparks.
All of this weird magic leads me to one, single question. "Do you have any food!? I'm absolutely famished!" Then in afterthought I add, "And do you have my pouch? I need some things from there".
She looks at me queerly for a moment, before turning to the doorway. "I'll have someone bring your pouch and some food". And with that, she disappears through the door.
True to her word, just a few minutes later a young woman walks in, a tray of food occupying one hand, the other holding my pouch. Her features are distinctively one of Asian — skin pale, eye's narrow and chin pointed.
"Thanks", I acknowledge as she places the tray on the small wooden table. Although I'm not really sure she understands me. "I'll take the pouch", I motion to her.
Unspeaking, she hands it to me and I gratefully accept it. "So what is this place", I ask, with some hope that she does understand English.
Her gaze turns at me, and she stares at me as if she's judging if she should answer the question or to just ignore it.
"This is the Sanctum Sancturum", she says at last. "The academy of mystical training".
"You mean like magic", I ask.
She heads for the door. "If that's what you want to call it", she says and walks back out leaving me alone once again.
I reach onto my mochpouch, bringing the elder wand to mind. After a short delay, it appears in my hand and I put it aside for a moment, reaching back in.
The thick green liquid filled vile appears in my hand. I pull out its stopper. The foul odor instantly hits my nostrils. Well, you gotta do what you gotta do, I attempt to persuade myself. Besides you must've drank this stuff dozens of times in Hogwarts .
And before I can convince myself otherwise, I quickly drain it in one detestable gulp.
The change is almost instantaneous. The weird sensations and pain in my chest fade to a mere background sensation, no longer an annoyance.
I reach back into the mochpouch and bring Glowball to mind. It appears after the usual delay and I pull it out. I then reach for the elder wand and point it at the white glow ball. I speak the incantation of 'Lumos', instantly filling the ball with a bright illuminating light.
I levitate it to the about the center point of the room letting it hover there, enlightening the room with a bright white glow.
Much better, I determine, turning to my food. I examine the tray's… rather odd looking contents. A few slices of something I assume is a bread, or perhaps some sort of cake. Rubbish grey with clumps of black and green bits.
A small earthen mug of tea that smells eerily odd. Like someone had mixed ash into it. Beside it lies a brown biscuit — the only thing that even remotely resembles any form of normal food. Topped off by a clump of some sort of mush-meat.
I start with the grey bread, determining that it can't really be worse then Uatu's stuff.
I let the taste linger for a moment before deciding that It's actually not that bad. The texture is oddly satisfying, its outer layer rough the inside soft and rich with flavor.
I take another piece, making fast work of it, and before I know it I'm done with the entire tray's contents.
This food's interesting. Not what I'd expected at all.
Having addressed my rumbling stomach and my Uatu invoked injuries, I decide to explore my surroundings. I'm sure they won't mind.
Placing my wand in my wand holster and dimming the glowball, I stroll passed the doorway, pushing the heavy material curtains aside.
A long narrow corridor aglow by flaming torches, meets my curious gaze. The walls and ceiling and are equally made of black stone, contrasted well by a elegant grey and white carpet.
I continue walking passed a half dozen doorways, until I come upon a staircase at the end of the corridor. Deciding to make use of it, I pull out my wand and cast a Lumos spell, as I begin trekking down the staircase.
It's oddly quiet, I suddenly realize. Until I reach ground level at the end of the staircase. A large open window — its shudders swung inward — provides a view of a half moon shining in the dark of the night's sky.
I guess even magical's need sleep too. Although some are obviously still awake, evidenced by the trio of people I had met.
I continue on, walking under the high domed ceiling and passed several archways and exquisite sets of paintings.
Then suddenly coming upon a hulking set of wooden doors that line the wall to my left, I come to a halt. A aholamora later has it open with no issues.
A vast room lined with shelves and aisles of books,casted in complete darkness, meets my gaze.
I step in, enchanted by the strange energies emanating from the room and raise the elder wand over my head as to provide the most possible light ahead of me.
I stride passed a desk, piled with old scrolls and books, catching the title of the top of the first stack. Dündé, it reads. Well, it's not in English, that's for sure.
I continue farther in peering unto the aisles until I arrive at the very end of the library. About two dozen books float in the air, encased by golden cases that bare intricate markings and odd symbols. Runes, I suspect.
I gaze at them for a moment before selecting the one furthest to the right. I carefully unlatch a fragile hook that holds the book in place and I levitate it in the air, letting naturally open to a random page.
I understand little, except for several bold words. Dormomu. A name, I suppose. And the Dark Dimension.
I've heard about it— albeit vaguely — in my days in Hogwarts. It's supposedly a dimension of dark, a place that hosts all underworldly creatures and beings.
Intrigued, I mutter the translation spell I've used countless times before together with Hermione in the Hogwarts library.
The words begin to scramble before my eye's and slowly begin forming coherent sentences.
"So I take it that your doing fine", a deep, raspy voice sounds behind me.
I turn around to face a bearded, middle aged man. He wears a black cloak and an odd golden eye that hangs from a metal chain, topped off by a crimson cape drapes from his shoulder.
To my surprise I recognize him. "Doctor Steven Strange", I drawl.