Nearly a year later, Kamar-Taj felt like home to Jon. That first big surprise of being pulled from his old life had turned into a calm, almost cozy feeling. His body, which felt strange at first, now moved with easy grace, like he'd always known how to fight. His magic was getting really good too. He still couldn't make magic portals without his ring, but golden sparks popped from his fingers more often, and he could almost see the shimmery outlines of new portals, even if they were a bit wobbly.
He and Wong had become good friends. It was a funny kind of friendship, with lots of quiet time and understanding, and sometimes talking about old, dusty books. Their evening talks in the library were a regular thing. Jon, still feeling a bit like he didn't quite belong, would say things about old magic stories or even what was happening in the world that would make Wong surprised, and sometimes even give a tiny smile.
And those quiet times by the lake with the Ancient One? They were like a calm spot for him. In those peaceful hours, he hardly ever talked about his old life, and she never asked. Instead, they just understood each other, sharing thoughts about life, why we're here, and how everything in the big wide world just fits together. He felt truly understood, truly accepted, in a way he never had before. He wasn't just a lost man anymore, he was a student, and a magic user in training.
One evening, as the last bit of sun went down behind the mountains, making the sky look like it was on fire, the Ancient One let out a soft, happy sigh. "The air tonight smells like rain coming from far away," she whispered.
Jon, who was just playing with the dust on the ground, looked up. "Do you ever just wish you could... stop worrying about everything?" he asked, the thought just popping out. "All the responsibility, always being careful. Just for a moment, to not see, to not know?" He quickly added, "I'm not complaining, of course. Just thinking."
A soft, a little sad, smile touched her lips. "More often than you'd think, Jon," she said, looking him right in the eye. "To just be, without knowing what's going to happen, without the heavy feeling of danger... The simplest happy moments often become the most important, because they're not spoiled by the bad things that are coming." She paused, looking back at the dark sky. "But people who know too much don't usually get that kind of easy life, do they?"
Jon nodded slowly, understanding completely now. She wasn't just talking about her own big worries, but about his too. All the things he knew from his old world, the events he knew were coming, it was like seeing the future, and it was a big worry. "No," he quietly agreed. "It's hard to just 'be' when you know what's coming. It changes everything."
"It does," she said, even softer. "And that's why being balanced is super important. To see, but not let it take over you. To act, but not to force things to happen. It's a tricky dance, Jon. One that needs you to always know yourself, and to be ready to change." She turned to him fully, her face showing deep wisdom.
Jon found himself nodding. In those quiet evenings by the calm lake, they just kept getting closer. Their bond grew not from shared magic or old stories, but from respecting each other's thoughts, what they noticed, and the never-ending search for meaning in this huge, unpredictable universe. It was in these quiet moments that Jon really started to let go of his old life, slowly, carefully, becoming more truly himself in this new, yet strangely cool, reality.
Almost a year in, Jon's magic skills were really advanced, good enough to soon become a Master. He could make energy shapes perfectly, understood old magic books very well, and his fighting was super sharp. It was almost time to start his own big plans.
But first, he needed to check his information. He went to the room with the Eye of Agamotto, the Time Stone. He picked a quiet tiime when it was mostly empty, knowing that playing with time was very risky, and everyone would be watching. Before, he might have wanted to peek into his own future, to see how his knowledge could help him. But all those talks with the Ancient One, her quiet warnings about the dangers of knowing too much, especially your own future, had really stuck with him. She had emphasized how future knowledge, particularly of one's own timeline, could paradoxically make those very events impossible to achieve, creating an inescapable loop or a devastating divergence. So, Jon decided to only look at the timelines where he didn't exist, the "movie" timelines from his old world. This was super important for his plan, to confirm when important characters showed up and how big events actually happened in this world, without messing up his own place in time.
Stepping into the room, the air buzzed with raw magic. The Eye of Agamotto, glowing softly on its stand, seemed to call to him. Jon did the special movements, his hands moving smoothly, and focused his mind. The world around him blurred, stretched, and folded as he zipped through tons of possible futures, carefully looking for the events he knew. Pictures flashed by, a rich playboy announcing a new weapon, a powerful green monster getting angry. He watched, noticing tiny differences in how familiar faces looked, how they felt, confirming that this universe was special. Every moment he watched was a silent check, a risky peek into the future of a world he now lived in, a world he wanted to change.
Once he was done, the time magic faded. Jon quickly and quietly left the room, heading back to his own place feeling a quiet victory. He found the Ancient One waiting for him, sitting with her legs crossed on a mat, looking like she knew everything, almost amused. She didn't say anything about him being in the chamber, just offered a soft smile.
"Your progress, Jon," she began, her voice calm and thoughtful, "has been truly amazing. You've learned so fast and with such honesty. It's time for you to pick a special magic item. Every Master of Magic has one that just feels right to them, a tool to help them on their journey."
A small, real smile spread across Jon's face, a rare sight that showed he was happy and almost like a kid excited. His own magic item! The idea gave him a quiet thrill. He thought about the choices, a flying cloak like Doctor Strange's super useful for getting around and protecting himself. But then a different thought popped up. While that would be great, the idea of truly learning magic enough to fly without any tools felt way cooler. That felt like real power, real freedom.
The Ancient One stood up, moving smoothly and silently, and pointed to a door Jon hadn't noticed before. It was cleverly hidden in the wall's fancy patterns. "Come," she invited, her voice hinting like she could read his mind.
They walked side-by-side through quiet, dimly lit hallways. The air got cooler, smelling of old wood and sleeping magic. Soon, they walked into a huge, dark hall, dimly lit but filled with tons of amazing objects. Shelves lined the walls, stretching into the shadows, packed with magic items of every shape and size, old scrolls, shimmering crystals, fancy carvings, weird instruments, and weapons that hummed with faint energy. This was the Sanctum's secret room of magic tools, a deep collection of their history. The Ancient One stayed quiet, letting Jon take it all in.
Jon started walking slowly down the aisles, his senses reaching out, his newly developed magic feeling looking for any connection, any quiet call from an object that might be meant for him. He passed a staff that glowed with a faint green light, making him wonder if it could grow vines on command – useful for climbing, or maybe just tripping up bad guys. Next, a pair of old-looking gloves, their metal dull but their power strong. Could he shoot energy blasts? Or maybe just punch harder? Probably both. He chuckled to himself. A shimmering ball the size of a melon sat on a soft cushion, humming quietly. A crystal ball? Can it tell me what's for dinner? Probably not.
His fingers brushed against dusty, thick books with fancy locks, their pages full of forgotten spells. He passed a bunch of decorated masks, each whispering with faint, distinct energies. One looked like a perpetually annoyed gargoyle. Maybe it scowls at my enemies? He smirked. None of them really called to him, though. They felt like powerful tools, yes, but not his tools.
Then, at the very end of a shadowy aisle, almost hidden, he saw it. It wasn't shiny or flashy. It hung draped over a simple wooden stand, blending into the quiet colors of the older magic items. It was a cloak, a long, full piece of clothing, made from what looked like heavy, worn wool or linen, dyed a deep, plain charcoal grey. A wide hood was pulled up, like it was always in shadow. It looked old, almost torn in spots, yet as he looked at it, he felt this subtle, undeniable pull, a quiet, deep thrum against his own magic. It wasn't loud or demanding, but a gentle, insistent hum, like an old friend saying hello. He reached out a hand, his fingertips barely touching the rough fabric. The second he touched it, the cloak seemed to ripple, its folds shifting like it was breathing. Then, with a soft, almost alive rustle, it lifted from the stand, unfolding itself in the air. It circled him once, twice, a silent, knowing presence, before automatically wrapping around his body, settling perfectly to his broader frame, the hood falling just right to frame his face without blocking his view.
As the cloak settled, a soft, approving voice broke the silence. "An interesting choice, Jon." The Ancient One was suddenly right next to him, as quiet and smooth as ever, her ancient eyes fixed on the cloak now on him. "The Cloak of Subtle Weave. It's mainly for defense, both magic and physical. It'll soak up and bounce off attacks, but its best protection needs a constant, conscious flow of your own energy." She pointed to the fabric. "Beyond that, it's naturally connected to dimensional energies. It can easily hide you and change how it looks to blend with any place, or even look like other clothes, without you having to cast a spell. It just adapts to what you want, almost like it knows." She gave him a small, knowing smile. "It seems your wish for both protection and moving around secretly really connects with it."
Jon chuckled, a low, happy sound. He ran a hand over the cloak's fabric. "Yeah, Master, it'll be good to have some protection." He turned to her, his face changing, a hint of his underlying ambition showing through his usual calm. "Master, I also wanted to talk to you about something else. My... 'identity problem.' I need to sort it out. And with my training going so well, I think it's time for me to spend some time outside the Sanctum. I need to get settled in this world, find my own place. And maybe... find others who might fit with what I want to do in the future."
The Ancient One's calm face didn't change, but her eyes held a deeper light, a knowing look that seemed to see right through his carefully chosen words to the unspoken "plans" underneath. They started walking slowly, moving from the magic item room into a sunny, open-air courtyard with small, twisted trees and the faint sound of chanting from training halls. The crisp mountain air filled Jon's lungs, a sharp contrast to the thick, magic-filled air of the vault.
"I expected this talk, Jon," the Ancient One said, her voice calm, a gentle ripple in the peaceful setting. "You're not the type to stay in one place, especially with what you know is coming. Getting settled is a necessary step. And finding others to fit with your 'goals' " Her gaze lingered on him, a hint of a question, a subtle test in her ancient eyes. "This world is like a complex blanket, Jon. Its threads are not easy to move around. And the path you're thinking of might have unexpected problems."
Jon met her gaze, a quiet determination setting on his face. "I get how complicated it is, Master. More than I used to, maybe. But just waiting, just watching, feels... wrong. I know things that could stop certain things from happening, or at least make them less bad. It would be wrong to just let fate happen, knowing what I know." He paused, picking his next words carefully. "My plans aren't about big, flashy moves or forcing events. They're about guiding, subtly influencing. Like a gardener, taking care of a young plant, making sure it grows strong before the storm."
The Ancient One walked beside him, her steps light, almost like she was floating, as they passed a shimmering meditation pool that reflected the clear blue sky. "A nice way to put it, Jon. But even a gardener can accidentally bring in a bug, or cut off a branch that was supposed to grow fruit later. The world has a funny way of balancing itself, even against the best intentions." She stopped by the edge of the pool, her reflection calm. "You know the dangers if you say too much. How do you plan to handle this... tricky balance?"
Jon looked into the still water, his reflection surprisingly calm. "Carefully, Master. And with the understanding you've given me. I'll look for people I know will be friends, individuals whose paths will naturally cross with events I see coming. I'll offer guidance, and help. And my cloak," he touched the soft fabric, a slight smirk touching his lips, "will help me move unseen. My goal isn't to control, but to prepare."
The Ancient One turned from the pool, looking at him again, a faint, almost unnoticeable nod of understanding. "This is a lonely path, Jon," she said, her voice softer, her deep wisdom mixed with a quiet understanding of being alone. "Even with friends, the real heavy feeling of knowing what might come, is a worry you carry by yourself. It's a quietness you live with, watching futures happen that others don't even know about." She paused, then continued, her face changing subtly, almost a rare moment of showing she's vulnerable. "I've walked such a path for a very long time, Jon. You learn to appreciate the brief moments of real connection, the unexpected smart thoughts from those whose view isn't clouded by the vastness of time. You, for instance, with your unique way of seeing things, often bring questions, observations, that cut through our understanding."
Jon met her gaze, a genuine feeling of caring stirring inside him. He thought about her words. "I guess that's why you look for places like this lake, Master," he mused, glancing at the calm water. "A break from all the constant possibilities."
A faint, almost wistful smile touched her lips. "Indeed. There are truths that you feel, beyond words, in stillness and quiet thought. The heavy feeling, while always there, can be known, and then, for a time, put aside. You learn to carry it, not by ignoring it, but by finding moments of quiet strength. And sometimes," she added, her eyes twinkling slightly, "that strength comes from an unexpected chat with a young man who asks questions no one else dares to."
She extended a hand, a silent goodbye, but also a sign of deep trust. "Jon. Know that Kamar-Taj will always be a home for you." A soft, almost unnoticeable warmth came from her touch, a final blessing before her presence seemed to disappear like mist, leaving Jon alone by the tranquil lake, the new cloak a comforting weight on his shoulders and a quiet determination in his heart.
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