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Anakin Skywalker is on the path to become one of the greatest figures on the galactic scene. If you want to read an original story of greatness, you can check my story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Tatooine
"Sorry about that. It must be weird to have a grown man cry like this," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe the black tears.
"It's fine. Mom says crying is good."
Strange smiled. "She sounds like a smart woman."
"She is."
"What about your dad?" he asked. The kid was malnourished. A desert planet with two suns would make finding food difficult for anyone not well off, more so for a single mother.
Anakin shrugged. "I don't have one."
"Where do you live on Tatooine?"
"Mos Espa. It is the largest city. I…work at a junkyard," Anakin said.
"You are, what, five years old? Why are you working in a junkyard, or anywhere for that matter?" Was food so scarce that even he had to work?
"I don't have a choice," he whispered, lowering his head.
Strange knelt, facing Anakin on an even level. "Can you repeat that?"
"I don't have a choice."
"Why not? Is someone forcing you to?" He had told Anakin much about Earth but did not have the time to learn as much about Tatooine. He did not like how the kid hesitated to speak about it.
"Yeah."
"And I assume you can't speak to the authorities?"
"No."
He slowly put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Anakin, I have a feeling it is something you don't wish to speak about. However, I can help. I was called Sorcerer Supreme back on my planet. I might be bound to the Sanctum, but there are a lot of things I can do to help you."
"Again, if you don't wish to speak, I understand," he added. It was best not to push him and force the kid to withdraw.
"The junkyard's owner, Watto, is also our owner."
He froze, accidentally squeezing Anakin's small shoulder. "Owner? Are you telling me slavery is allowed in this world?"
What kind of universe had he landed in?
Anakin nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"Is there no legitimate government? How could this be allowed?" How could a Galactic Republic—if the spell translated correctly—allow slavery to exist?
"The Hutts rule the outer rim. What they say goes. They allow slavery, and nobody crosses them," he muttered. His following explanation made Strange realize the Sanctum had landed on the corner of a galaxy ruled by gangsters.
"I need to go back," he muttered, looking at the cave system for an exit.
"Anakin, I understand you are worried for your mother. But I think she would prefer you away from her if it meant you would be free." In a similar situation, he would have done exactly that.
Anakin was lucky to get away. The hole he had fallen through was one he'd opened to let fresh air reach the cavern. A couple more days, he would have closed it.
"I know." He rubbed his left arm, looking away. "It's just that I have a device in my body. If I go too far from Watto, he can detonate it and kill me."
He closed his eyes, swearing inside. Not only was slavery allowed in this world, but they also put bombs inside people? If only he could leave the Sanctum, there would be hell to pay. "You don't have to worry. The Sanctum has defenses against technology. No signal can enter here or leave."
"Really?" Anakin's eyes shone. The only reason he thought Watto hadn't killed him yet was because he didn't know there was a house beneath the sands.
"Yes."
"But my mom…" he began, thinking about her. As long as he knew, they only had each other. He didn't want to leave her.
"There is a way to bring her here, but only you can do it."
"How?"
"Come with me; I'll show you."
—
Dr. Strange took him to an outside area.
He froze upon seeing the ceiling. He gazed at a blue sky with clouds and only one sun. The rest of the cave was wide, with thick columns keeping it from collapsing. Watto had taken him to salvage ships before. He knew there was no opening like this in the sands.
"Where are we?" he breathed out, watching the sky. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"A small training ground. I got bored of being inside all the time and made this small place."
"But the sky?"
Strange grinned, happy to see the wonder in the kid's eyes. "It is an illusion, something I did for the sake of my mental health."
Staring at a bleary ceiling or working all day on the small farm he'd built had eventually burned him out. He had created a little heaven like this to preserve his sanity.
"Wizard!"
"Watch closely," Strange said. He spread his feet, holding his left hand forward while the right was half an arm behind. He began to move his right hand in a circle. Golden sparks appeared out of nowhere, settling into a large circle.
Anakin's jaw fell.
Inside the golden circle, he could see the room he had slept in. Dr. Strange reached for the table where he had left the tray. He took it, closed the circle, and opened another one. The next destination seemed to be the kitchen. Strange deposited the tray and closed the circle.
"This is a portal we, the Masters of the Mystical Arts, can open. I'll skip the details for now, but as long as you can virtualize the destination, you can open a portal to anywhere."
Anakin was quick to connect the dots. "Anywhere? Like our house with Mom?"
"Yes. As I said, I am bound to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. I can't open portals outside these boundaries."
"Oh."
"You can learn and open them, though."
"I can?"
"Anyone who is willing to put in the work, along with a bit of talent, can learn."
"Since you're so young, I'll only teach you how to open portals. Otherwise, you might get hurt." There was nothing he ever heard about children so young being allowed to train in the mystical arts.
"I am seven."
"Seven? You certainly don't show it, no offense," he said, wincing as he realized how that sounded.
"I know."
"At any rate, rest for now and eat. I know your mother must be worried, but once you gather strength, we can begin the lessons."
"Okay, Dr. Strange, sir."
"When I am your teacher, call me Master Strange. Otherwise, no need to call me sir."
—
He lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He was in a whole other dimension, away from his friends, away from the Masters of the Mystical Arts, and from his duties of protecting Earth. Without their greatest defense against Dormammu, the Time Stone, he had to use the Darkhold to save the Sanctum. He only hoped it had succeeded.
He thought of how to return home.
His soul was shackled to the Sanctum and a certain area around it. He could not move past the boundary, physically or otherwise. He couldn't open a portal home, even if he discovered how.
The only path for him was to move the entire Sanctum back.
Yet, how was he supposed to find Earth when he had been marooned in a galaxy that did not know it? It could be forgotten or, just as equally possible, never have existed. He was so far from home; he had no idea how to locate his specific dimension.
At least he had something to work towards, besides helping Anakin.
In the meantime, he would help Anakin free his mother, and if there was time, end slavery on this planet.
—
"Master Strange, where do you get all this food?" Anakin asked as they were eating breakfast.
Could sorcery create food too?
"The Sanctum had all the necessary materials in storage for farming should there be issues. Soil, seeds, eggs, fertilizer. I wasn't going anywhere and started to learn how to farm to keep myself fed. I'll show it to you later if you want," Strange offered with a smile. The small farm and orchard kept his mind off his circumstances. It was not something he had ever seen himself do, but it was a surprisingly calming experience.
And convenient with sorcery.
"Thank you."
"You mentioned aliens before. How many are there?" Strange asked. He had met several aliens back on Earth. He wagered living on a planet teeming with them couldn't compare.
"Hundreds."
Strange stopped, the gnocchi almost sliding off his fork.
"Didn't you have aliens in your world?" Anakin asked.
"We were aware they existed, but Earth was far from achieving space travel. We didn't have regular contact, except for the Asgardians."
There was a lull in conversation as he considered the situation on the surface. Gangsters, aliens, space travel, and a whole galaxy out there.
"Try to eat slowly. You will get a stomach ache otherwise," he said to Anakin. The boy had good table manners, most likely thanks to his mother, but he was inhaling the food. He couldn't blame him, knowing what he had gone through so far.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
"We'll have to adjust more clothes for you. I'll also show you the showers. There aren't many cleaning products, but the water gets recycled by sorcery; feel free to use as much water as you want."
"Shower with water?"
"Right, I forgot. I assume water is expensive up there?" Perhaps he could use sorcery to find water and have Anakin sell it once he discovered a way to get that device out of him. There would no doubt be plenty of interesting things to buy.
"It is. Mom just wipes us both with sponges."
"I guarantee you, nothing beats a warm shower."
"Wait, how did you clean me when I came here first?" Anakin asked after a moment. He would have woken up if he were being washed with water.
"With sorcery, of course," he said. He waved his hand over the empty plates. A golden wave passed over, and they were all spotless. He then levitated them to the correct places in the cabinet, all without leaving his seat.
It was nothing like the portals, but still pretty wicked, and he couldn't wait. "When can I start to learn?"
"Here is a short lesson. We draw energy from different dimensions to do what we do. It doesn't affect adults in any bad way. I don't know if it would affect a child, though. Until I figure it out, you will have to wait."
A developed mind was necessary for sorcery. He didn't know if the same went for the body but would not take chances. Yet, they had to hurry, because who knew what Anakin's mother would do if she thought her owner's carelessness had led to her son's death?
"I know it is not what you want to hear, but patience is important," he said, seeing Anakin frown.
—
He spent the next few days learning about his new student-hopeful. Anakin was way smarter than his age would indicate. He had worked as a mechanic in the junkyard, assembling and disassembling extremely advanced machines.
Exactly the kind of talent Tony Stark would appreciate.
His mother had taught him not to show his true feelings so easily from a young age. In an environment where he did not have to fear reprisal, Anakin was quick to let his fury at slavery be known.
It would be a dangerous weakness to have. He would have to help the boy curb it.
He was born into slavery, and his mother had never talked about his father. Their previous owner was Gardulla the Hutt. He had come to learn they were basically giant, sapient slugs, all known to be criminals. Watto, the owner of the junkyard, had won them from Gardulla in a bet.
Watto was a Toydarian, a bug-like species with wings that actually allowed them to fly. He was better than Gardulla, who enjoyed treating her slaves like toys to be broken, but he still was a slaver.
In return, he mentioned his home and his past as a surgeon who had sought to learn the mystical arts as a last resort after an accident damaged his hands. He mentioned Tony Stark, the genius playboy billionaire. He had even gone as far as to create illusions of Iron Man, allowing Anakin to watch how the genius fought with his armor.
The boy was mesmerized.
He combed the library for any records of a child being trained, of which there were none. The subject was never discussed among the masters of the mystical arts. Given no one would even think about training a child, it was to be expected.
Two weeks after they had met and once Anakin had put on some weight, he decided to test the boy. He would guide him every step of the way. If the dimensional energies somehow harmed him, he would intervene.
He felt for Anakin but would not let him try to save his mother at the cost of his own life.
—
"This is a sling ring," he said, putting the metal band over Anakin's fingers.
"It allows us to open portals and access other dimensions."
"I am going to give you a little push so you know what to look for, okay? It might be a bit scary, but everything will be fine."
He knelt, laying his thumb on Anakin's forehead and the remaining fingers on the left side of his head.
Anakin screamed as he went off flying.
He crashed through the ceiling of the Sanctum, going through the desert. Each sand grain grew in size until he stood smaller than them. He stopped, floating, screams of terror turning lighter. He smiled and was flying once more.
He traveled through the sky, leaving Tatooine in seconds, seeing the twin suns glare at him. He flew to the stars, and the space before him bent. The suns stretched, becoming one, going through a multitude of colors, and finally transformed into a black hole.
He felt himself stretch this time, still shrieking with a smile, and the next thing he knew he was back in the Sanctum.
"That was great!" he shouted, startling Strange.
"It is?" He certainly hadn't thought so when the Ancient One used this little trick on him.
"Yeah. The sand grains became so pretty, then the sun turned into a black hole. I saw a lot of Tatooines bend around it."
"That was the Astral Plane. You took a short trip."
"Can we do it again?"
"Perhaps once you learn it yourself. How do you feel? Any discomfort, pain, weird sensations?"
"No, I am fine," Anakin said, checking himself for anything out of the ordinary.
Strange was monitoring Anakin's soul but saw no reason to interfere. It did not seem to affect the boy adversely at all.
"Once you master the mystic arts, you'll be able to do that and much more. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master Strange," Anakin cheered, giving a slight bow as if it was an afterthought.
His lips curled upwards at the enthusiasm. This kid certainly would be an interesting one to teach.
Notes : As there are two chapters, which I am posting right now, there won't be any advanced chapters on my Patreon until next Friday.