5

Mordo and Wong walked among the trainees as they worked through exercises designed to develop the basic powers that were common to all magical orders. Strange had learned the gestures, but he could not create the lines of energy that seemed to come so easily to the other apprentices. None of the others helped him—Stephen Strange was still not used to asking for help from his peers.

After the exercises, Mordo brought out a case and opened it, revealing rows of two-finger rings. “Mastery of the sling ring is essential to the mystic arts,” he said as each student took one. They fit over the index and middle fingers, with a flat surface like half a set of brass knuckles. “They allow us to travel throughout the Multiverse.” The students began to create crackling orange portals, but again Strange made the motions and got nothing, only a few sparks.

Mordo stopped next to him. Strange concentrated harder. “All you need to do is focus,” Mordo said. “Visualize. See the destination in your mind. Look beyond the world in front of you. Imagine every detail. The clearer the picture, the quicker and easier the gateway will come.” All around him, apprentices were forming their gateways, sharp and clear. Strange could barely make a spark appear. He wasn’t going to quit, but he was getting too frustrated to focus.

“And stop,” Mordo said as The Ancient One stepped out of the temple to the edge of the training ground. Another Master walked with her, hands folded into the loose sleeves of his robe. Strange recognized him, but they hadn’t spoken yet.

“I’d like a moment alone with Mister Strange,” she said.

“Of course.” Mordo beckoned the other students to follow him inside the temple, leaving Strange alone with The Ancient One and her companion.

“My hands,” Strange said, guessing she was going to criticize his lack of progress.

“It’s not about your hands.”

“How is this not about my hands?” he asked. They were all using their hands to make the symbols, weren’t they? He had done all the reading his peers had, and more—it had to be his hands holding him back.

“Master Hamir,” The Ancient One said. Her companion spread his hands...no, hand. His left arm ended in a scarred stump above the wrist. Without a word, Master Hamir used what remained of his left arm to draw a symbol of power in the air. He held it for a moment, then let it flicker away.

“Thank you, Master Hamir.” He bowed and walked silently back into the temple. The Ancient One turned to Strange to drive home the lesson. “You cannot beat a river into submission. You have to surrender to its current, and use its power as your own.”

“I...I control it by surrendering control? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not everything does,” she said. “Not everything has to. Your intellect has taken you far in life. But it will take you no further. Surrender, Stephen.” She raised her hands and he saw a sling ring on the left. With a quick circular gesture, she drew a portal in the air. “Silence your ego and your power will rise. Come with me.” Stunned, Strange followed The Ancient One through the portal.

They emerged onto a mountainside. Wind howled and snow swept over them. It was freezing, colder than anything Strange had ever felt. The air was thin in his lungs. He couldn’t draw a whole breath, and what air he managed to get stung his nose and throat. “Wait,” he said. “Is this...”

“Everest. It’s beautiful.” She was looking out over the Himalayas, “the Roof of the World,” seemingly unaffected by the wind or the cold.

“Yeah, you’re right. Beautiful,” he said. “It’s freezing, but...beautiful.”

“At this temperature, a person can last for thirteen minutes before suffering permanent loss of function,” The Ancient One said like she was reading from a guidebook.

“Great.” Strange wondered what the point of this lesson was. He looked where she was looking. It was an amazing view, yes. But again, what was the point? Surely she didn’t bring him all the way here just to play tour guide.

“But you will likely go into shock within the first two minutes,” she added.

“What?” He started to turn back to her.

“Surrender, Stephen,” she said in a singsong tone as she passed through the portal back to Kamar-Taj and closed it behind her.

“No, no! Don’t!” He tried to dive through it but only crashed down onto the snow-covered ground. Now also covered in snow, Strange felt more than cold—he felt angry and desperate.

Back in the training courtyard, The Ancient One waited. Mordo saw her and approached. “How is our new recruit?”

“We shall see,” she said. “Any second now.”

“No, not again.” Mordo had seen her do this before. It was a difficult test, and those who did not pass...he took a step forward. “Maybe I should...” he suggested helpfully.

She stopped him. He saw she held one hand behind her back, flicking a fan open and closed. It was her one nervous habit, or at least the only one Mordo had ever observed, and even then, he would hesitate to call her nervous the same way other people got nervous. They waited...and waited...

A portal sparked to life in the courtyard and Strange fell through it, gasping. Ice crusted his beard. He weakly got to his hands and knees and looked up at The Ancient One. His face was a whirlwind of emotion—slowly receding fear, and anger again. But eventually, in his face she saw that he was beginning to understand.

Alone in his room, Strange relived the experience. The panic, the desperation...and then the incredible moment when he had felt it happen. He had made the portal.

He had made magic! Up until recently he hadn’t even believed in magic, but he had created a portal for himself just the same.

Behind him hung a new robe. He would wear the gray of the apprentice no longer. Now that he had shown the first glimmerings of power, he had a new, deep-red robe. And he decided he needed a new appearance to go with it.

He hadn’t shaved or had a haircut since leaving New York, weeks before. Now, by the light of a single bulb, he cut his own hair, taking his time. He had nowhere to be. His hands hurt but for some reason, now that he knew he could do something wonderful again, they didn’t seem to hurt as much. With a borrowed electric razor, he clipped his beard and then shaved it to a shape that suited him. He liked the sharpness it gave his face. He combed his hair straight back, then considered himself in the mirror. Yes. He was a new man. He had come seeking wisdom, and he’d begun to find it.

Now it was time to see what else he could learn.