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The next morning, Aidan stepped out of his room feeling completely refreshed, the psychic hangover from his multiversal journey finally gone. He stretched lazily, every muscle in his body feeling loose and responsive. He squinted up at the clear, thin mountain air of the Himalayas, a sky more brilliantly blue than any he had ever seen.
"Come," Mordo's curt voice broke the silence. He was already waiting, dressed in the same austere robes as the day before. "I will take you to get your books." With a sharp flick of his cloak, he turned, presenting Aidan with a cold, majestic back view as he began to walk.
Aidan glanced back at the washbasin in his room. "…Guess skipping a morning wash won't kill me," he muttered to himself, then quickly jogged to catch up.
They walked side-by-side down a long, open-air corridor carved from dark, polished wood. Mordo led him toward the library—though in Kamar-Taj, it was more accurately called the Vault of Knowledge. He explained that the texts within were freely available to all practitioners, with the exception of a select few forbidden tomes kept under lock and key by the Ancient One herself.
A new set of clothes had been left for Aidan: rough-spun woolen robes, dyed a simple charcoal grey. They were surprisingly warm and allowed for an impressive freedom of movement. As they passed through the central courtyard, they caught sight of several dozen trainees deep in their morning exercises, their own grey robes a stark contrast to the vibrant green of the mossy stones and the deep blue of the sky.
An elder master stood at the front, his own movements a demonstration of practiced, effortless grace—his hands circling inward before flaring apart with controlled energy. In front of him, a glowing, intricate magical diagram unfolded in midair. Behind him, the apprentices attempted to imitate his movements while chanting incantations, their voices a low, resonant hum. The results were varied. Some of the spell circles they conjured trembled unsteadily, sputtering and flickering like faulty fireworks, threatening to shatter at any second. Others, however, hovered steady and smooth, locked into place with remarkable precision, humming with contained power. Every practitioner wore a simple robe, but on the index and middle finger of one hand, they all wore an intricately carved brass ring.
"Feels like I've walked into a medieval European magic academy," Aidan observed, his eyes wide with a mixture of scientific curiosity and genuine wonder. "If only the students were a little younger, it'd be perfect."
"This is a sanctuary for sorcerers, not a school for wayward youths," Mordo replied flatly, a note of irritation in his voice. "Honestly, you should have stayed in your own school. It's not as if you couldn't have come here after graduation."
"My school has nothing left to teach me," Aidan shot back with a proud, confident smirk.
"I still don't understand why the Ancient One accepted you," Mordo muttered, quickening his pace.
They crossed the courtyard and soon arrived at a heavy, ornate wooden door. "Mordo, you're here as well," a man seated at a nearby table greeted them. He had a kind, searching face, though his eyes held a deep, underlying sorrow.
"This is Master Kaecilius," Mordo said, his tone lacking any real warmth. It was a bare-bones introduction.
"A new student? He looks… young," Kaecilius remarked, his eyebrows rising in surprise at Aidan's youthful face.
"Yes. A pleasure to meet you, Master Kaecilius," Aidan said politely, offering a nod. "My name is Aidan Parker."
"The pleasure is mine, Aidan. If you need anything during your studies, do not hesitate to ask," Kaecilius replied with a friendly, welcoming smile. At this stage, his corruption by the allure of dark magic had not yet begun; he was still one of the most well-liked and respected masters in Kamar-Taj.
"Get me Mystic Fundamentals, The New Codex of the Cosmos…" Mordo instructed, addressing a gaunt, deep-eyed man of South Asian descent who stood behind a large wooden desk, clearly the librarian. "And have Master Yalvis retrieve them."
"This one is a bit young, Mordo," Yalvis remarked, his skeptical gaze sweeping over Aidan. "Are you certain he can even understand these?"
"They are the most basic texts we possess," Mordo replied curtly. "We have nothing simpler."
Yalvis scoffed. "I believe I have some children's picture books hidden away. Perhaps that would be more his speed."
Aidan gave him a flat, unimpressed look. "Don't worry," he said, his voice dripping with his signature tech-arrogance. "I'm a fast reader. If I get stuck, I'll just have my personal AI scan the books and give me the summary."
Yalvis's expression stiffened, his scholarly pride deeply offended. "You would defile these sacred texts with a soulless automaton?" he muttered, his voice low and angry. "This child has no respect for knowledge."
"Hey," Mordo interjected quickly, sensing the rising tension. "He's just teasing. Don't take it so seriously. Just hand over the books."
With a final, annoyed glare at Aidan, Yalvis turned and retrieved several hefty, leather-bound tomes from the shelves. Mordo took the stack and handed it to Aidan as they exited the library.
"Every place has its share of unpleasant people," Mordo said with a shrug. "Just ignore him." He gestured to the heavy books in Aidan's arms. "These need to be read within the next few days. Once you have a firm grasp of the fundamentals, you can begin practicing magic in the courtyard."
"Got it," Aidan said, adjusting the weight. "If I want to borrow more books later, I don't need special permission, right?"
"No. Yalvis might be rude, but he won't actually block you. Just ignore his mouth."
"Fair enough," Aidan grinned. "I guess I'll need to brush up on my verbal sparring, then."
After dropping Aidan off at his room, Mordo left to attend to his own matters. And so, Aidan began his new life. He devoured the basic books Mordo had given him, finishing them all in just under a week. Though Mordo was surprised, after witnessing his initial interview with the Ancient One, he wasn't entirely shocked. Soon after, he brought Aidan to the training courtyard to join the other apprentices.
The courtyard was like a classical Himalayan garden, with a few ancient, gnarled pine trees and architecture that felt both simple and profound. Aidan stood there, feeling like he'd stepped into a wuxia film, atop a sacred mountain where duels of immense power were decided. But he soon learned that the sorcerers didn't just spend their days drawing glowing circles in the air. They also practiced martial arts—frequently and with intense discipline.
"One!" the instructor, an old, bearded master with piercing eyes, called out.
"Hei!" Aidan's legs spread into a firm stance, his waist locked like a pine tree, his arms snapping like a whip, his eyes locked forward.
"Two!"
"Hah!" One leg retracted, his body sinking into a solid horse stance. One hand returned to his waist, the other snapping forward in a sharp, clean punch.
"Three!"
"Huuh!" His body tensed. Both palms extended forward in the final stance. It was a series of fluid, powerful katas, a dance of offense and defense designed to train the body to become a worthy vessel for channeling immense magical energy. It was absolutely absurd, and he loved it.
After they had run through the martial forms, they finally moved on to actual magic training.
"Feel the energy of the space around you," the old master said from the front, his voice like gravel and wind. "Focus completely. Do not think about the energy. Feel it. The universe breathes. Breathe with it. Now, gather that energy into yourself. Form the simplest of matrix diagrams."
Standing firm, Aidan took a deep breath and raised his hands in front of him. He closed his eyes, pushing aside the cold, hard logic of science that had governed his entire existence. For the first time, he didn't analyze; he felt. A warm, tingling energy stirred within his core, but he could also feel it in the air around him, in the ancient stones of the courtyard, in everything.
His hands glided apart, and a ribbon of pure, incandescent orange light flowed from his fingertips, following the motion. With a slight turn of his wrists, the light curved into a perfect circle. He pushed forward, and another set of lines framed the circle, creating a perfect square around it. The flawless geometric pattern snapped into place with a soft hum, shimmering in the air before him, casting a warm, golden glow on his astonished face.
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