After bidding farewell to the Ancient One, Mavuika continued to live in the small village at the foot of the Alps for over a decade.
Time is the fairest yet most cruel measurement for mortals.
When Mavuika first arrived in this village, her neighbor, John the carpenter, was still a young man in his early twenties, newly married and carving a cradle for his pregnant wife in front of his house.
Old Hans at the blacksmith shop could swing a twenty-pound iron hammer with one hand, the sound of striking iron ringing from dawn till dusk.
Anna the shepherdess had long flaxen hair and a crisp laugh; every day as she drove her flock past Mavuika's cottage, she would always greet her with a smile.
And now, John's son had inherited his father's carpentry shop, and it was his grandson lying in the cradle.
Hans's arm was no longer steady, and the iron hammer mostly hung on the wall as a decoration.
Anna had married into a town on the other side of the mountain; on her occasional visits back to the village, silver strands had appeared in her hair, and her laughter had grown steady and subdued.
Mavuika still looked exactly as she did when she first arrived—long gold-red hair, amber eyes—time had not left a single trace on her face.
At first, the villagers simply thought this 'Ms. Marvica' maintained herself exceptionally well, but as time passed, this 'too perfect' agelessness began to spark whispers.
"My grandmother said when she was a child, Ms. Marvica looked just like she does now..."
"The other day I helped her move firewood; her hands didn't have a single callus, like a noble lady's hands, yet she clearly chops her own wood every day."
"Do you remember that avalanche last winter? Ms. Mavuika's cottage is on the most dangerous slope, yet not a single tile fell."
The discussions grew more frequent, and the looks in their eyes became increasingly complex.
Mavuika knew it was time to leave.
She chose to set out on a spring morning.
She didn't disturb anyone, simply tidying up the cottage; she had given the chickens to a neighbor a few days prior, and the crops in the vegetable garden were ripe for anyone to pick.
The furniture, cookware, and books she had made or gathered herself were all neatly arranged, as if the Master was merely going on a long trip and would return soon.
Mavuika took one last look at this place where she had lived for over a decade.
Morning mist flowed through the mountains, the village was just waking up, and thin trails of cooking smoke rose into the air.
She took a deep breath of the air scented with pine, then turned and walked deep into the mountain forest.
She did not use the Bifrost Bridge to teleport, but left on foot, just as she had when she first arrived on Earth.
Every step was on real soil, feeling the farewell of this region.
As she walked out of the valley, she looked back; the small village looked like an exquisite model in the morning light.
A few rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, precisely illuminating her former cottage.
"Goodbye," Mavuika said softly, and then continued forward.
This journey lasted another hundred years.
During that century, Mavuika's footprints once again covered the World, but this time her travels had a clearer purpose.
In Helheim, Hela's work had entered a critical stage.
The core framework of the Reverie Rule had been inscribed; the next task was to 'weave' this set of rules into the cycle of life and death for every World in the Nine Realms.
And Earth, as the special 'Midgard' among the Nine Realms, located at the core of Irminsul, was a natural hub connecting all Worlds, making it an indispensable transition node in this process.
Simply put, the rules Hela inscribed in the underworld needed to be 'relayed' and 'amplified' through Earth to effectively radiate to the other Worlds of the Nine Realms.
This process required precise operation and powerful energy guidance, and whether it was Mavuika or Hela, they lacked experience in this regard.
Thus, in the latter half of her century of travel, she remembered the Ancient One's invitation and the Sorcerer Supreme's attainments in magic.
Perhaps the magical knowledge of Kamar-Taj could provide assistance.
Having made her decision, Mavuika did not hesitate; she directly teleported herself to Kamar-Taj via the Bifrost Bridge.
A flash of rainbow light later, Mavuika appeared on a mountain ridge covered in snow.
The wind was biting and the oxygen thin, but for a deity, these were not issues.
She expanded her perception and soon'saw' the complex of buildings protected by a powerful magical barrier in a hidden valley between several peaks.
Mavuika did not force her way through the barrier, nor did she use a more direct teleportation.
She chose to walk down the mountain like a true visitor, following the faint trail trodden by mountain folk toward that mysterious holy land.
As she approached the edge of the barrier, a golden portal opened silently before her.
Standing inside the gate was not only the Ancient One, but also a dozen men and women dressed in sorcerer robes—clearly core members and senior sorcerers of Kamar-Taj.
The Ancient One stood at the front; today she was not wearing her signature yellow robe, but had changed into a more solemn deep blue ritual garment embroidered with complex silver runes.
Her expression remained calm, but her eyes held a clear sense of welcome.
"Your Highness Mavuika," the Ancient One bowed slightly. "Welcome to Kamar-Taj."
The sorcerers behind her saluted in unison, their movements perfectly synchronized, clearly practiced beforehand.
Every face carried curiosity, awe, and a hint of unconcealable nervousness.
After all, to them, Mavuika was a figure from myths and legends.
Mavuika was somewhat surprised by this grand reception but quickly adjusted, returning the greeting with equal solemnity: "Thank you for your welcome, Sorcerer Ancient One, and everyone of Kamar-Taj."
The Ancient One straightened up and made a gesture of invitation: "Your Highness has come from afar. Please follow me inside. We have prepared tea and refreshments, and arranged accommodations for Your Highness. If there is anything unsatisfactory, please speak freely."
Mavuika followed the Ancient One through the portal. The moment she stepped into Kamar-Taj, the environment changed drastically, from the freezing mountains of ice and snow to a valley courtyard as warm as spring.
The air was filled with a unique scent of sandalwood, herbs, and old paper; from the distance came the faint sound of chanting and the hum of magical practice.
The Ancient One personally led the way for Mavuika, introducing the surroundings as they walked: "This is the Central Courtyard, where apprentices meditate morning and evening. Over there is the Library, which houses all magical texts since the era of Agamotto. To the east is the training ground, and to the west is the living area. The tallest building is the Main Hall, where important ceremonies and meetings are held."
The architectural style of Kamar-Taj fused various Eastern elements but bore unique magical imprints.
Mavuika was settled in an independent courtyard next to the Main Hall; the courtyard was not large but was extremely exquisite.
Three wing rooms surrounded the small courtyard, which featured an ancient Bodhi tree with a stone table and stools beneath it. The interior of the rooms was simple yet comfortable, equipped with a bed, desk, and wardrobe, and even a small cubicle specifically for meditation.
"The Sorcerer has clearly put much thought into this," Mavuika said sincerely.
The Ancient One smiled. "Your Highness is the first deity to officially visit Kamar-Taj in a thousand years; it is only right."
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