The Days Blurred
The castle provided for us—warm bread, roasted meat, soups steaming on the table. Laundry folded itself. Floors scrubbed themselves clean. It was a home that did not need us, yet it shaped itself around us.
One evening Wanda asked, "How did you do all that?"
I met her eyes. "Because I'm special. But not just me—you two are special too. You can do it as well, if we train."
I gave them tasks to keep grief from drowning them. Wanda helped in the kitchen, though her emotions sometimes startled the utensils into floating. Jean lingered in the library, drawn to books about the mind and the stars.
I showered, changed into fresh clothes, and as we grew sleepy, the castle dimmed its lights, like it too wished us rest.
The next morning, I dove into Agatha's library. The Darkhold whispered more than spells—it showed me how to shape shields, bend energy into blades, and call fire with a thought. The castle itself became my sparring partner: walls shifted into arenas, mannequins appeared from nothing, and glowing runes lit the paths of my training.
I tried to teach the girls, but their powers were raw. Jean's emotions sometimes set books ablaze. Wanda's panic bent stone walls like molten glass.
Still, we practiced. Power without control was disaster waiting to happen.
And yet… power came faster than control.
Jean's Awakening
In the open field, three children sat cross-legged, meditating. I turned to Jean, touched her forehead, and sank into her psychic mind.
Her consciousness was vast, a tapestry of flame and thought. She looked at me with wide eyes."So this is what the mind feels like," she whispered.
"Yes," I said softly. "Now let's find the problem."
We appeared before a raging inferno. At its center, a blazing bird of fire turned its gaze on me.
The Phoenix.
Its eyes narrowed. You are not from here.
I smirked. "Exactly. And that's why this is possible."
With a snap of my fingers, my spiritual energy flooded Jean's psychic plane.
"What are you doing?" the Phoenix demanded.
"Oh, nothing," I said lightly. "Just making sure you'll never take control of her. You're only a fragment here. I can handle fragments. Let's have a good relationship instead."
Something shifted. Golden-orange flames replaced the chaotic fire. The Phoenix bowed—not to me, but to Jean.
And then it appeared: a letter formed in radiant light. A.
Knowledge poured into me—Jean's soul, the Phoenix's essence, and my own had intertwined. The title burned into my mind:
Almighty Queen of Life, Monarch of Light.
Jean gasped as the connection sealed. "That was… intense. But I feel closer to you. Stronger."
We opened our eyes in the field, both of us breathing hard.
Wanda frowned. "What are you two talking about?"
Jean explained quickly. Wanda crossed her arms, pouting. "Then do me next. I want it too."
Wanda's Awakening
Wanda's training was slower, deliberate. She lifted trees with her mind, but I forced her to control every leaf, every branch, while holding a barrier against my surprise attacks. She learned discipline, but her frustration grew.
One snowy morning, I sighed and told her, "I think you need a little push. I don't know if it'll work like it did with Jean, but let's try."
Her eyes flared with determination. "I don't want to fall behind. I want to protect both of you—more than anything in this world."
Her words warmed me. I nodded. "Then trust me. Remove your gloves."
We clasped hands, and my spirit slipped into hers.
Her mind was a white void, endless and cold. Wanda's voice trembled. "Where are we?"
"Your mind," I said. "Here, you can shape anything. But if you want to awaken your power, give it form. Doors, memories, anything."
She closed her eyes. Doors began sprouting from the void, each glowing with unique colors. At the far end stood one scarlet door, bound in chains.
"That's it," I whispered. "Your core."
Wanda tried to unbind it, but the chains held firm.
Frustration twisted her face. "I can't."
"Then what are you afraid of?" I asked gently. "Not believing in me? Or in yourself?"
Tears welled. "I'm afraid… that if I open it, I'll lose control. That I'll hurt you. Hurt Jean."
I squeezed her hand. "Don't fear it. Embrace it. Control it. I'll be here, always. But remember—self-doubt is poison. Overconfidence is too. Balance is survival."
Wanda took a shuddering breath. She gripped the chains. This time they cracked, shattered, and fell.
The scarlet door burst apart, releasing a storm of red energy that condensed into a burning orb—a scarlet sun, pulsing with both beauty and danger.
The energy sank into Wanda's soul. My instincts urged me to take a fragment, and I did. It flowed into me, burning away corruption and fragments of Chthon that lurked within.
Another letter formed: A.
The words etched themselves into reality:
Ashborn Queen of Death, Monarch of Shadows.
We returned to our bodies, gasping.
Jean stood before us, cheeks puffed in jealousy. "What were you two doing? I could feel you in her mind."
Wanda smiled shyly. "Awakening."
I turned to Jean's training tree, still suspended midair with every leaf frozen in place. Her barrier shimmered around her.
"You finished the exercise," I said softly.
Jean blushed, looking down. "Thank you."
I ruffled Wanda's hair, then Jean's. "Good. Now the real training begins."
The Arrival
One night, shadows flickered across my skin as I drew too deeply from both bonds. Power pulsed through me, threatening to split me apart.
Wanda, braver than fear, gripped my burning hand. "As long as we're together, nothing else matters."
Her words steadied me. For the first time since my rebirth, I almost believed them.
On the seventh day, the wards shivered.
Jean and Wanda played in the courtyard, but my body froze. A ripple moved across reality.
A woman stepped through the wards as if they were smoke. Golden robes shimmered, her bald head gleamed in the sunlight, and her eyes—ancient, serene—fixed on me.
"Good morning," she said warmly. "I am the Ancient One. And you must be Alex Walker."
The girls clung to my sides.
I forced a smile. "The castle was supposed to be untraceable."
Her lips curved faintly. "Normally, yes. But you opened a portal directly here. Reckless… but brilliant. Especially for someone so young."
My eyes narrowed. "So what now? You kill me? Take the Darkhold?"
"Kill you?" she echoed, amused. "No. You're an anomaly. Jean and Wanda were meant to lose everything together, their bond either saving the universe—or ending it. But you survived. You are something fate didn't account for."
Her gaze pierced me. "I cannot kill you, Mr. Walker. Not your soul. It lies beyond even my reach. I came not to end you, but to guide you."
I scoffed. "Guide me? I killed Agatha. I bound the Phoenix. I burned away Chthon's corruption. And you think you can offer me something better?"
Her smile remained unshaken. "Perhaps not more power, but control. You are changing faster than your body can endure. That is a path to ruin."
"I'm adapting," I said, though my voice wavered.
"The question is," she countered softly, "will you adapt into a savior… or a monster?"
The castle's walls pulsed, tense. The girls' hands clutched tighter at my sleeves.
Her final words cut through the silence:"I can teach you to wield what you are. All I ask in return is one thing: do not threaten Midgard."
I exhaled slowly. "Fine," I said at last. "I accept."