As the tension visibly loosened from the Ancient One's shoulders, her smile became more natural, her posture more relaxed, almost playful. Seizing the opportune moment, I leaned forward slightly and asked, "What kind of trouble has my grandson caused you, then?"
The Ancient One chuckled softly, a sound like dry leaves rustling in a gentle breeze. "Oh, he personally did not do anything, my dear. But a ripple caused by his energy twenty-five years ago, a subtle disturbance in the fabric of the timeline, prompted two supreme entities to make some minor adjustments in the past."
"And what happened?" My voice was laced with a mix of concern and fascination that I myself did not percieve as I urged her to continue.
"Well," the Ancient One began, a hint of weariness entering her tone, "there were two children with great potential, destined to have been born and grown up in the past. But the actions of those two supreme beings, minute as they might have seemed, delayed their birth by three decades. And so, a trouble that they were originally supposed to deal with had no one to handle it, causing me to take matters into my own hands and intervene."
"I see, for your profound care of my grandson, I am deeply grateful, and I humbly ask that you continue to watch over him as his future unfolds." I said as I bowed my head slightly towards the Ancient One.
At least he'll have some sort of protection now, I thought, a quiet satisfaction settling in my heart. The strongest sorcerer on the planet is now essentially his accidental bodyguard.
"Why don't you do it yourself?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued by my request.
"I can't," I replied, a touch of melancholy in my voice. "I no longer have that ability. I was told a new heir would be born soon, so I renounced my possession of those powers. That happened before he even returned to this timeline." I sighed, a genuine sigh this time. "Didn't think I would regret being so hasty."
"We all have those moments," she said, her voice filled with a quiet understanding.
"True," I agreed, a small, weary smile. "Want some tea? My husband's special blend."
"Sure."
Then, a sudden, bold question popped into my head, one I'd often wondered but never dared to ask. "Why are you bald, by the way?"
She chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. "Maintaining my hair over centuries, especially when bad guys insisted on attacking me by pulling it, got too annoying over time. So I simply solved the problem from the root." She gestured to her smooth, gleaming scalp. "And the recruits at Kamar-Taj showed a lot more discipline when facing a bald, unflappable Sorcerer Supreme, so I never grew them back."
I laughed, a genuine, hearty laugh. "You have it tough, huh."
"Well, if it pleases you, tease my grandson as much as you want," I offered, a mischievous glint in my eye. "It is a great stress relief, you know."
As long as she pays attention to him, it can save him from a lot of dangers, I reasoned, a shrewd strategist even in my personal life. And I think acting as stress relief for her is quite a good bargain in exchange for having the strongest sorcerer on the planet being your grandson's bodyguard.
"I will take you up on that offer," she said, her smile widening. "Thank you."
With a final nod, she got up. Another shimmering portal opened silently beside her, displaying a glimpse of Kamar-Taj. Before stepping through, she turned. "He is out on an adventure, by the way. A promise to keep, I gather."
Good luck, my grandson, I thought, watching the portal close. You're certainly going to need it.
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-A few days into the future-
The hallowed silence of Kamar-Taj's grand library, typically broken only by the rustle of ancient scrolls or the murmur of incantations, was abruptly shattered. Wong, ever the pragmatic librarian, strode in, his usually stoic face sporting a faint, almost imperceptible smile. His right hand was engaged in a peculiar, rhythmic motion, a small, multi-pronged device twirling with mesmerizing speed between his fingers. It was a fidget spinner, its subtle whirring a stark contrast to the venerable atmosphere.
The Ancient One, seated cross-legged on a levitating cushion amidst towering shelves of arcane knowledge, opened her eyes slowly. Her gaze, usually fixed on cosmic complexities, descended with mild curiosity upon the mesmerizing whirligig.
"What's that in your hand, Wong?" she inquired, her voice carrying the quiet authority of centuries.
Wong paused the spinning contraption, holding it up. "Ah, Master. It's a Fidget Spinner. A new, rather ingenious, human invention. It's a simple toy, but remarkably effective for releasing stress. Helps me forget all the recent troubles caused by new recruits and Kaecilius's tiresome theatrics." He paused, then, with a hopeful glint in his eye, offered, "Would you like one? I have a spare."
The Ancient One's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with a light that suggested understanding far beyond simple mechanics. "No, Wong," she replied, her voice soft, yet resonating with deep amusement. "I don't need one. I have something far, far better." A mischievous, almost gleeful glint entered her ancient gaze as she subtly focused her vast, mystical awareness across continents.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, completely oblivious to the cosmic conversation unfolding, a sudden, violent shiver ran down Ryan's spine. He felt an inexplicable tickle in his nose, an odd chill despite the internal heat of his current predicament.
"Achoo!" he sneezed loudly, startling the injured person behind him. He rubbed his nose, a perplexed frown creasing his young brow. "Did someone just curse me?" he muttered, scanning the empty, snow-laden cavern, convinced he was entirely alone.