Time in Kamar-Taj moved differently. It wasn't just the temporal weirdness of the place; it was the nature of the training. Days bled into weeks in a blur of meditation, study, and the constant, crackling hum of raw power. Before Leo knew it, two months had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye.
The Ancient One's original plan had been to push them for the full three months, hoping they could achieve a significant leap in their respective fields. But Leo and Ashem had shattered her timeline, reaching her target level of proficiency a full month ahead of schedule, leaving their teachers speechless.
"Your rate of growth," the Ancient One said, standing before them in the vast, scroll-filled library, "is nothing short of astonishing." Her eyes, which always held the calm of a deep ocean, now sparkled with genuine pride.
Standing silently beside her, Karl Mordo felt a complex mixture of emotions. He had dedicated his entire life to the mystic arts, and yet these two newcomers had accomplished in two months what had taken him years of diligent study. It was both frustrating and deeply admirable.
Leo and Ashem, for their part, stood with a newfound confidence that bordered on cockiness.
"It's all thanks to your guidance, Master," Leo replied, the picture of humility, though he couldn't quite hide the proud gleam in his eyes. It was a stark contrast to the nervous, terrified kid who had stumbled out of a portal two months ago. He hadn't just learned a few spells; he had forged a completely new way of fighting, weaving his innate portal ability with the structured magic of Kamar-Taj into something fluid, unpredictable, and devastatingly powerful.
Ashem nodded in agreement, her own power now a palpable aura around her. The Crystal Exarch had chosen well. She was a natural, a warrior born with an instinct for battle that couldn't be taught. With the Ancient One's guidance, she hadn't just learned to control the darkness within her; she had given it a name. She could now summon Fray—the living embodiment of her own doubts and negative emotions—as a spectral, shadow-wielding ally in battle. The thought of the three of them fighting side-by-side made Leo's chest swell with anticipation.
"Master, you summoned us," Leo said, his new confidence evident in his tone. "Is there something important?"
Ashem's eyes lit up. "Are you finally giving us a real test? I've been dying to show you what we can do."
"Precisely," the Ancient One said, a warm smile gracing her lips as she looked at Ashem. "Two months of quiet study and meditation must have been a unique form of torture for you. You have a free spirit. It was not easy for you to stay still for so long."
A hint of embarrassment colored Ashem's cheeks. As a Miqo'te, she had certain feline traits, chief among them a deep-seated hatred of being cooped up. She was a wildcat, made for adventure. If it hadn't been for Leo's constant companionship and the occasional sparring session with Mordo, she would have gone stir-crazy and tried to sneak out weeks ago.
The Ancient One's expression grew serious. "Tony Stark," she said, her gaze falling on Leo. "You know of him, I trust?"
Leo nodded, the image of the cynical, brilliant, and deeply troubled billionaire flashing in his mind.
"When you first arrived here," she continued, "he was captured by terrorists in Afghanistan. According to the timeline, today is the day he is scheduled to make his escape." Her voice became grave. "This is the most significant turning point of his life. Whether he lives or dies will directly alter the future of this universe."
Leo and Ashem exchanged a look of shock. Leo, of course, knew the story by heart, and he had filled Ashem in on the basics of his world. Tony Stark wasn't just a person; he was an event, a catalyst. The idea that their first real mission would be to intervene in the origin story of Iron Man was staggering.
"Master," Leo asked, his voice hesitant. "Are you saying… you want us to go save him?" The request flew in the face of everything he understood about her philosophy of non-interference.
Even Mordo was taken aback, his mouth opening as if to protest before he forced it shut. "Master…" he finally managed, his voice tight with confusion.
The Ancient One regarded their reactions calmly. "Leo, Ashem," she explained, "your very arrival was an unforeseen event, a stone cast into the river of time. Without your knowledge, your destiny has become intertwined with Tony Stark's. This meeting was, perhaps, always meant to be." She paused. "I am sending you to ensure there are no… accidents. Moreover, a man with Tony Stark's genius could prove to be a powerful ally for the First in the future."
That was all the convincing they needed. Eager to test their newfound skills on a real-world problem, they both turned toward the space where a portal would soon open. A rescue plan? The terrorists were vicious, but they were ultimately just men with guns. Against what Leo and Ashem had become, a plan was an unnecessary formality.
As they stepped through the swirling gate of fire, Mordo finally turned to the Ancient One, his brow deeply furrowed. "You taught me that we must not break the laws of nature," he said, his voice a low, troubled murmur. "That we must not interfere. It is the belief upon which our entire order is founded."
"And I am glad you remember my teachings so well," the Ancient One replied with a sad smile. "But have you ever considered that our interference is sometimes part of the natural law? Destiny is not a straight line, Mordo. It is a vast, intricate web. Everything we do, every choice we make, may already be a thread within its design."
Mordo's frown deepened as he wrestled with the paradox. "To not break the law does not mean we are to be passive observers," the Ancient One continued softly, a hint of weariness in her voice. "At critical moments, we must have the wisdom to make the right choice, even if that choice seems to contradict our oldest rules. That, too, is our duty."
She sighed, a secret sadness in her heart. If only Mordo were not so rigid, so bound by the letter of the law, he might have already been ready to take her place as Sorcerer Supreme. True wisdom, she hoped he would one day understand, lay not in unbending rules, but in the flexibility to know when to break them.
Leo and Ashem knew nothing of the quiet crisis of faith their departure had caused. They stepped out of the portal and into the blinding, oppressive heat of the Afghan desert, the fine sand crunching under their boots. In the distance, nestled between rocky hills, they could see the terrorist base where Tony Stark was about to make his last stand.