Kara (POV)
The magic had always been in my blood, but this? This was something different—something otherworldly. I dove into Soul Magic with the intensity of someone chasing a truth they'd always known was out there. My hands turned the ancient pages like an expert, weaving through symbols and runes like I had been studying this for lifetimes. Wong stood by, his gaze never straying from me, his curiosity practically humming in the air. As a Kamar-Taj veteran, he'd seen more than his fair share of magic, but mine was different, and it was clearly leaving him in awe.
"I'll take a closer look at this one," I said, my voice calm but assertive, flicking the page to reveal the intricacies of Soul Magic's deepest secrets.
Wong was all eyes. It wasn't just his usual thirst for knowledge that had him so wrapped up; it was that he was seeing something he hadn't expected from me—someone who had the kind of magic that could reshape reality itself.
As I continued my work, I could feel Wong's curiosity growing. He was probably trying to figure out how I'd gotten so good, what I was doing differently. The truth was, mastering Soul Magic wasn't a simple task. It didn't play by the same rules as other magics, and no matter how many centuries you'd spent at Kamar-Taj, that truth didn't change.
I took a deep breath and raised my hand. A white light flickered around me, ethereal and faint, like something from a dream. My soul separated from my body, and I could feel the entire world freeze in place. The familiar hum of energy, the pulse of life, all of it paused as my essence drifted away, detached and free.
"This magic... it's not the same," I muttered to myself, my soul examining the separation. "No need for environmental sensing... it's just... projection. Pure, simple projection."
I let the connection return, pulling my soul back into my body. I opened my eyes and was met with Wong, whose mouth was hanging slightly open. He was impressed. Hell, I was impressed with how far I'd come too, but I didn't have time for self-praise. There were still more limits to push.
Wong was lost in thought. "Incredible," he must've been thinking. The kind of talent I had... it was rare. And while he was undoubtedly impressed, I could tell he was also wondering just how long it would take for me to catch up to Doctor Strange.
We returned to our books, but the silence between us wasn't awkward—it was the calm before a storm of new possibilities. I broke the quiet first.
"Wong, how's your Soul Magic coming along?" I asked, genuine curiosity lacing my tone.
He gave a confident nod. "It's going well," he replied the faintest edge of pride in his voice.
I raised an eyebrow, teasing him just a little. "Good, but... your max clones? Five? How's that working for you?"
His brow furrowed. It was an innocent enough question, but he was already comparing his limits to mine. Five clones was no small feat. He'd seen what I could do with cloning magic, and I could tell he was measuring himself against me.
I flashed him a knowing smile. "That's decent, but… is it enough?"
Wong hesitated. Five was impressive by Kamar-Taj standards, but I could see the gears turning.
"It's more than enough," I said, leaning in slightly with a confident smile. "Think about it: five clones is already five times your usual learning speed. You've got the mental discipline for it, but it's more than just speed—it's about the depth of what you're learning."
He seemed to understand, the tension in his posture easing as he took in my words. But I wasn't done yet.
"Actually, it's not just for studying, Wong," I added, letting the idea sink in. "Cloning magic can be used for skill practice, too. Minor spells? You could increase your proficiency using those clones."
Wong's eyes lit up with excitement. The thought of being able to accelerate his magic training was something that clearly thrilled him.
"Really?" he asked, the joy in his voice unmistakable.
I nodded, my voice calm. "Yes, just wait." I leaned in closer, motioning with my hand for him to follow my instructions. "Hold your hand like this, change your intonation slightly... This should improve your cloning magic."
He tried it, and I couldn't help but add, "The key to improving magic is in the subtleties. I've been at this long enough to know that it's all about finding the right balance."
But then, I had an idea. A better one.
"Wait, hold on—I'll rebuild the cloning spell from scratch for you. Specifically for you. Give me a second."
Wong blinked, caught off guard. "What? Why?"
"Because the current spell isn't working for you," I said, matter-of-fact. "It's too slow. Too clunky. I can make it faster, and more responsive. And, I can reduce the energy it drains."
Wong's eyes widened. "That would be... amazing. Thank you, Kara."
I gave him a reassuring smile. "No problem. It's what I do."
And with that, we dove back into the magic, tweaking and refining, pushing boundaries we hadn't even realized existed. As I explained the underlying mechanics of my magic, I saw Wong's mind start to race. "I divide my soul and mental energy into sections," I explained. "The clones are vessels for learning—autonomous learning. It's like setting up a little network in your head, each clone working separately but in sync."
The magic I wielded was something that fused the ancient with the modern—a kind of wireless connection for the soul itself. It was magic, but it had a logic that even Wong couldn't ignore.
"What do you think?" I asked, leaning back, watching the weight of my words settle in.
Wong's mind was reeling, but I could see the spark of inspiration in his eyes. "You're revolutionizing magic," he said, awe still in his voice. "Just—wow."
"Yeah," I said with a wry grin, "Magic's just the beginning."
...
The stillness of the Magic Library had a way of magnifying everything—the faint rustle of pages turning, the hum of latent energy in the air, and the extraordinary power coursing through me. Thanks to the Images of Ikonn, my abilities had undergone a transformation that was nothing short of miraculous. My awareness sharpened, my spells grew stronger, and my clones—well, they were operating at levels I hadn't thought possible.
As I meditated, the reality of this newfound power settled over me like a mantle. The Images of Ikonn weren't just a tool—they were a paradigm shift. My magic had reached new heights, and with it, my hunger for understanding had only deepened.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Wong moving quietly through the aisles. He was busy tidying up after a small avalanche of books we'd accidentally caused earlier. Ever the perfectionist, he wasn't just putting the books back; he was organizing them with the care of someone who truly loved this place. Typical Wong. He'd even gathered an additional ten volumes, likely assuming I'd want more material to devour. Not wrong, I thought with a small smile. I could spend weeks here and still barely scratch the surface.
As Wong worked, I could sense the shift in his energy. He wasn't just organizing books—he was reflecting. On me, on himself, on this entire mystical journey. Was he drawing parallels between my progress and that of the Ancient One? Wondering what it might take to inherit the legacy of Kamar-Taj? Whatever it was, his curiosity radiated like a silent question.
I felt his gaze linger on me. Not judging, but thoughtful. Curious. Finally, I broke the silence with a smirk. "Wong, you do know it's considered rude to stare at a woman for so long, don't you? Makes her feel uncomfortable. Or worse—threatened."
Wong blinked, startled out of his thoughts. I let the teasing hang for a beat before adding casually, "Oh, and by the way, I'm a lesbian."
His flustered expression was priceless. "I—uh—I wasn't—" he stammered, struggling to form a coherent response.
I chuckled, waving him off. "Relax, Wong. I'm just messing with you."
He exhaled heavily, muttering something about focusing on the books, but the tension between us was gone. Straightening, I decided it was time to move forward. "Alright," I said, standing. "Let's sort this out. I've reworked the cloning magic. Now, let me show you how to use it."
Wong's demeanor shifted in an instant. Ever the diligent student, he grabbed a pen and notebook, ready to jot down every word I said. "Please, proceed," he said, his tone all business.
I raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a laugh. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Taking notes," he replied, looking confused by the question. "How else am I supposed to—"
Before he could finish, I stepped closer and lightly tapped his forehead. The moment my finger made contact, the knowledge flowed from me to him—everything. The enhanced spell, detailed instructions, safety protocols, and even my own insights. It was all there, instantly downloaded into his mind.
Wong's eyes widened briefly before his expression settled into one of serene focus. The sheer influx of knowledge sent him into a meditative trance. I stepped back, giving him the space he needed to process it all.
While Wong absorbed the upgrade, I turned my attention back to the library. If I had time to kill, I might as well make the most of it. Grabbing a new stack of tomes, I activated my enhanced Cloning Spell. Within seconds, the room was filled with my duplicates, each one diving into a different book, cross-referencing, and synthesizing information at an astonishing pace. It was like having an entire research team working in perfect harmony.
The efficiency was exhilarating. I could feel the knowledge flowing back to me, piece by piece, faster than ever before. With this level of mastery, I realized, I could probably read every book in this library. The thought sent a thrill through me. Every spell, every secret, every fragment of arcane wisdom—within reach.
As I worked, a quiet sense of pride filled me. The magic wasn't just about power or prestige; it was about understanding, growth, and pushing boundaries. And for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was truly living up to the potential the Ancient One had seen in me.
Wong stirred from his trance, looking at me with a mixture of gratitude and awe. "That," he said, his voice almost reverent, "was incredible."
I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "Welcome to the future of magic, Wong."
...
Later that day, my fingers skimmed across the spines of ancient tomes, my eyes darting from one arcane title to the next. The library was vast, a maze of knowledge, and I was determined to uncover its secrets. But then it hit me—a presence.
Not the "someone's-watching-you" kind of presence. This was a "holy crap, what is that?!" kind of presence. It washed over me like a tidal wave of power—raw, intoxicating, and oddly... familiar.
I froze mid-reach, my hand hovering over a dusty grimoire.
"Okay, what's happening here?" I muttered.
The logical part of my brain screamed danger! But then again, curiosity has always been my Achilles' heel.
"I know this could be bad," I thought, "but what kind of sorcerer would I be if I didn't poke the mystical bear?"
The pull was irresistible. Like a moth to a very deadly flame, I found myself wandering deeper into the shelves, drawn to the source of this powerful energy. And then, I saw it.
A black book. It sat alone, unassuming yet commanding attention like the cool kid in high school.
As I moved closer, I spotted the golden symbol on its cover: the Wadjet Eye. Egyptian, a symbol of healing and protection. I barely had time to process that before the Eye shimmered and shifted, morphing into a Celtic triskelion.
"Life cycles, huh? That's comforting," I mumbled, sarcasm fully intact.
But it wasn't done showing off. The symbol morphed again into something ancient and cryptic—Proto-cuneiform, followed by Sumerian or Akkadian maybe, then Egyptian Hieroglyphs, the Indus Script? My grasp of dead languages wasn't what it used to be.
"Huh, okay. This is fine. Just a morphing book cover. Totally normal," I said aloud as if saying it made it true.
Before I knew it, I was reaching for the book. And that's when it happened.
One of the cuneiform symbols on its surface lit up, glowing faintly like it had been waiting for me all along. A chill ran down my spine as I realized: the book wasn't just glowing. It was feeding.
My magic. My energy. It was siphoning it from me like a particularly aggressive mosquito.
"Uh, no thank you!" I yelped, jerking my hand back. My heart hammered in my chest as I staggered away. Any normal person would've been toast, drained dry.
"What the hell is this thing?! "
Despite every ounce of sense screaming at me to leave it alone, I couldn't. There was a connection—a pull I couldn't explain. Before my brain could veto the decision, I stashed the black book in my inventory.
"Yep. That's definitely not gonna come back to bite me," I said, shaking my head at my own recklessness.
The encounter left me rattled, but I knew one thing for sure: I needed answers. And there was only one person who could provide them.
"The Ancient One," I muttered, already picturing her bemused expression when I dropped this mystical mess in her lap.
As I turned back to the shelves, a strange sense of calm washed over me. It was as if the whole episode had... faded.
What I didn't realize—what I couldn't realize—was that I'd forgotten the encounter entirely.
...
As the clock struck 3 PM, the Librarian stepped into the Magic Library, looking unusually refreshed, his shift ready to begin after Wong had spent hours overseeing the space. But as the Librarian entered, a weary yawn escaped him, rubbing his eyes to chase away the grogginess. He had been running on little sleep, but what he saw in the library immediately threw him off balance.
He blinked rapidly, sure he was hallucinating. The scene before him felt surreal—impossibly so. Every corner of the library was filled with numerous copies of Kara, each one deeply engrossed in studying. The air was thick with the hum of magic, and the Librarian stood frozen for a moment, unable to process the magnitude of what he was witnessing.
Is this real? The thought echoed in his mind, his confusion growing by the second. Am I dreaming?
Despite blinking several times, the scene didn't change. There were dozens, if not hundreds, of Kara's clones scattered across the library, each immersed in a different text. The Librarian had never encountered anything remotely like this during his time as Kamar-Taj's custodian of knowledge. It was beyond anything he'd seen—or even imagined.
His voice cracked slightly as he called out, his confusion evident, "Kara?! Wong, is that you?" But his words were ignored. The Kara clones continued to study, seemingly oblivious to his presence.
Desperate for clarity, the Librarian repeated, louder this time, "Are you here? Wong, are you here?" His eyes scanned the room, searching for answers amidst the chaos of magical replicas.
From the shadows, Wong, who had been quietly observing the scene, stepped forward. Noticing the Librarian's bewildered expression, he explained. "This is Kara's clone magic," he said calmly, as though such an event were commonplace. "She's using it to enhance her learning. She can study faster this way."
The Librarian's eyes widened, his mind struggling to absorb the explanation. He stared at the Kara clones in disbelief, his expression alternating between astonishment and genuine confusion. This was nothing short of unprecedented—he had never dealt with anything so bizarre in all his years managing Kamar-Taj's library.
"Yes, it's Kara's invention," Wong continued, sensing the Librarian's struggle. "She believes it will help her absorb knowledge more efficiently."
The Librarian's mind reeled, processing the revelation. He ran a hand through his beard, his expression blank for a moment as the weight of the situation settled in. After a long pause, he seemed to regain his composure. With a slow nod, he turned away, walking toward the door. The situation was so strange, so far beyond his usual experiences, that retreat seemed the only reasonable response.
Wong watched him go but made no move to stop him. There were no words left to say, no answers that could clarify the situation. It was as if the Librarian had decided to withdraw, leaving the mystery of Kara's magic and the extraordinary sight of her clones to unfold without comment.
Wong stayed in the library, his mind still grappling with the display of magic. His eyes briefly lingered on the clones, each one diligently reading. Then he allowed himself a wry smile, muttering softly to himself, "Librarian…"
But he quickly let the thought pass. Sometimes, he realized, the inexplicable was best left unexplored. There was no need to delve deeper when the magic itself was so perplexing. Instead, he focused inward, comforted by his own resilience. His youth had taught him to face surprises with composure, no matter how unbelievable they seemed.
..
That night she approached me in my dreams, but the next day I forgot all about her.