The Ancient One and Sen Getsusa came to the bow; by now it tilted high above the sea.
She stood on the rail, sea wind lifting her robe, both arms stretched forward—index and middle fingers together, thumbs apart, the rest curled.
As her hands crossed, she formed a spellcasting gesture.
Invisible energy took on color; orange-red lines flashed, following her fingers to sketch a circular array in the air.
Then, outside the circle, square-shaped runes outlined its rim.
The array rotated with her alternating hands, as though she were twisting the blazing glyph.
Sen Getsusa suddenly felt the icy sea air vanish.
In its place came damp warmth—like the scent of flowers when you open a window during the rainy season, or the smell of wet hair right after a bath.
Her vision blurred; a thin layer of mist appeared over the sea, hugging the surface and rolling in to swallow everything.
The girl brushed the tip of her nose; a tiny bead of water clung there.
She looked up—thick mist cloaked the World.
The dense white robbed everyone of sight; even with Sen Getsusa leaning right beside The Ancient One, she could make out only a silhouette.
"The Winds of Watoomb can scatter the mist—or create it," the sorceress explained softly. As she turned her palm, the fog grew heavier. "To keep them from seeing what they shouldn't."
The mage opened her hand; deprived of power, the array withered in an instant.
Then she pressed one palm to her chest and drew circles ahead with the other—golden sparks danced in Sen Getsusa's eyes.
The sparks fused into an orange-yellow line of fire, a supple serpent biting its own tail.
A huge circle.
It swept every lifeboat and drifting soul in these waters into its ring—including the sinking giant.
Beyond the circle Sen Getsusa glimpsed a night-shrouded harbor. "Yes, that's the port of New York," The Ancient One chatted while casting. She beckoned, and the flaming ring drifted toward them.
"An Inter-Door, basic magic—yet hard to wield well." She caught Sen Getsusa's hand and opened a portal tall enough for two.
"No pier for us. Come, little one."
...West Village, Greenwich.
177A Bleecker Street.
Sen Getsusa, shawled, crossed the vast stone hall. The mages in gray bowed to The Ancient One, then studied Sen Getsusa with knowing eyes.
She was the first to enter the Sanctum in heels.
"The Sanctum—our workplace and the node we guard." The Ancient One showed her around: meditation rooms, the library, pausing to accept coffee for Sen Getsusa from an apprentice.
"See that window?"
Sen Getsusa turned.
Sunlight sliced through its unique design, splitting the shadow into nine parts; four flowing sigils curved across the round pane.
"The Window to the World—or the Scar of Anomaly." The Ancient One sipped her coffee. "The Vishanti seal: true defense for the Sanctum and Earth against the supernatural."
She spoke of the Vishanti in vague terms, caring little whether Sen Getsusa followed.
Yet through the window the girl felt something vast—alive.
It breathed.
The Ancient One smiled, eyes half-closed. "Yes, it lives."
The sharper Sen Getsusa's senses, the happier The Ancient One became; this unprecedented life-form gave her endless intriguing ideas... Leaving the seal, she led Sen Getsusa to the innermost ground floor.
Along the way Sen Getsusa noticed the mages here seemed idle, chatting or training—little else to do in a dull era.
But all revered The Ancient One.
"Perks of the Sorcerer Supreme, no?"
The Ancient One answered playfully, catching the jest. "You can have them—just take the title."
Sen Getsusa laughed and shook her head.
"I couldn't. They say you defeated every mage on Earth."
The Ancient One shrugged it off.
"Of course—it wasn't hard."
At the far end stood a modest gallery: countless glass cases, some etched in silver scripture she couldn't read.
The Ancient One pointed to the most prominent spot.
A vertical case, crystal-clear, housed a bright red high-collared cloak darting about.
When the girl drew near, it greeted her with a flick of its collar.
"Hi?"
The cloak waved.
"What's your name?" Sen Getsusa pressed her nose to the glass.
The crimson cloak curled into a little ball, its collar touching her nose through the pane.
"That's the Cloak of Levitation. Only its wearer learns its true name. So... do you like it?"
Sen Getsusa discreetly wrinkled her nose, picturing herself in a cloak—and shook her head firmly.
Looked silly... And putting such a place right by the entrance?
This gallery held the mages' mystery instruments, yet it looked like an exhibition. "mystery tools aren't important," The Ancient One said, fingers brushing a low case. "Ancient relics have their own minds; if unwilling, no one can take them."
As with the Cloak of Levitation.
"It clearly likes you. Why not take it?"
The Ancient One coaxed her, and Sen Getsusa wondered what the mage was plotting.
In truth, she only wanted to give the girl a cloak meant for another—and nudge this new timeline off its course.
"Aren't you considering taking one?"
Sen Getsusa noticed Ancient One acting strangely, trying her best to make her pick one of these relics.
She turned around without objection and slowly walked into the forest of glass display cases.
"She can do it?"
Looking at Sen Getsusa's back, several strange shadows appeared beside Sorcerer Ancient One at some point.
Some were one-eyed, some had giant wheels or blades floating behind them, and some... weren't even human.
Several creatures looked coldly at the girl's skipping back, their voices indifferent and rough.
Ancient One nodded happily, the satisfaction and affection in her eyes almost impossible to hide: "She definitely can..."
As she spoke, layers of purple mist dispersed, yet no magical defenses were activated in the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Ancient One turned and spoke to the shadows behind her: "Look, she has been accepted."
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