- Stephens POV -
"The Language of the mystic arts is as old as civilization. Sorcerers of antiquity called the use of this language 'spells'. But if that word offends your modern sensibilities, you can call it 'program'. The source code that shapes reality."
The Ancient One spoke while gesturing for another student to step forward. Their hands were performing intricate movements through the air.
"We harness energy drawn from other dimensions of the multiverse," She continued, and soon, the movements started producing a similar orange glow I'd seen before; runes formed and geometric shapes appeared in complex patterns. "To cast spells, conjure shields and weapons to make magic."
At that last word, the student had finished their demonstration, forcing the spell away with a pulse that sent wind throughout the sanctuary.
It was incredible.
But as my hands started to shake again, a reminder of my new daily pain, I glanced down at them.
"But... even if my fingers could do that, my hands would just be waving in the air. I mean, how do I get from here... to there?"
I gestured from myself to The Ancient One. I knew the answer but I didn't want to hear it.
"How did you get to reattach severed nerves, and put a human spine back together bone by bone?"
There it was.
"Study and practice. Years of it." I sighed.
This recovery was not going to be fast. But I couldn't dwell on that, and any progress was still progress, right?
---
After a couple of days, a routine had settled in.
Mornings were spent with The Ancient One, learning about history and meditation. After lunch, I participated in a class, 'The Basics of Conjuring'. Mordo was kind enough to stand next to me and correct any of my incorrect movements or posture, while (Y/n) walked through the rows of students.
The teacher.
Then in the evenings, either after class or after dinner, (Y/n) would go through some material from books, either explaining things or suggesting reading material for me. But until I can get some basic casting, she explained, there wasn't much use for her training me this early.
I found my way to the library with (Y/n)'s directions one evening. A small map drawn on some parchment had found its way into my pocket.
"Mr. Strange."
I was greeted by the librarian with a stern look on his face
"Uh... Stephen, please. And you are?"
"Wong."
"Wong. Just Wong? Like...Adele? Or... Aristotle. Drake. Bono. Eminem."
I recall (Y/n) mentioning Wong. One of her and Mordo's close friend. But by the unamused look on his face, I doubt he's got much interest in adding me to that list. Taking the stack of books out of my hand, he reads the titles. (Y/n) had taken them out of the library for me to read in my spare time.
"The Book of the Invisible Sun, Astronomia Nova, Codex Imperium, Key of Solomon. You finished all of this?" Wong asked, surprised at how much I must have gotten through in such a short amount of time.
YOU ARE READING
Enchanting Sparks | (Doctor Strange x Female!Reader)
Fanfiction(Y/n) was only 8 when she was brought into the world of the mystic arts. When her path crosses that of Stephen Strange 20 years later, they soon realise just how important they are to each other. But everyone has their secrets, and mysterious pasts...
