Several days had passed since the last black magic lesson, and Wanda had faithfully adhered to Solomon's teachings, restricting herself to theoretical knowledge. Solomon, in turn, followed the safety protocols of black magic instruction, increasing the frequency of their lessons to ensure her stability.
But this time, Solomon did not immediately believe Wanda's unexpected words.
He listened carefully, not analyzing her descriptions with his usual knowledge and experience. He did not interrupt, unwilling to miss a single word. As Wanda hesitantly recounted her experience, struggling with her limited vocabulary, Solomon guided her gently, prompting her to refine her description and perfect the details of what she had seen and heard.
He scrutinized every nuance, asked thoughtful questions, and let the slightly anxious Wanda elaborate further. At times, he subtly rephrased her words with precise and elegant expressions, showcasing his deep command of English literature.
"You once said that a sorcerer's dreams are different from ordinary dreams," Wanda said, nervously clenching her fingers. "This was the strangest dream I've ever had. I swear it's because I used the Ouija board. I want to know—did I use it incorrectly? Will there be side effects? Did I… accidentally connect with something demonic?"
"I can assure you, your method was flawless."
"Then why couldn't I contact your astral form?" She widened her eyes in frustration.
Like all Kamar-Taj initiates, Wanda needed to understand the horrors of black magic, but the gruesome content in Solomon's books had terrified her. Few could imagine that Solomon had been exposed to such things at a single-digit age. If the education authorities found out, child protection organizations would storm Kamar-Taj in protest of their… unconventional teaching methods.
"What I saw was definitely not you."
She almost stuck out her tongue in a playful gesture to lighten the mood but reconsidered upon seeing Solomon's serious expression.
"You told me that demons are deceptive in appearance, that even beautiful visions should never be trusted immediately. 'Always remain vigilant.' That's what you said."
"I am considering this as well, dear."
Solomon sat cross-legged on Wanda's bed, resting his chin on one hand.
"Your invocation contained a fragment of my true name—it was a direct call. Only a select few know even a part of my true name, and you are one of them."
Wanda was touched. She understood the importance of true names to sorcerers.
A being's general name could shift depending on their species or actions at the time. If they underwent transformation magic, this name would change accordingly. However, a private true name never changed. Even the slightest fluctuation in pronunciation or tone could alter its magical properties.
She had spent a long time learning how to pronounce that small fragment of his true name and had eagerly applied it to the Ouija board.
But that excitement was quickly replaced by unease.
The dream she had was too strange.
A towering tree, a serpent, and a golden giant—Wanda knew she would never forget it. Every time she recalled the dream, new details emerged—details she hadn't noticed before.
The golden eagle wings spread upon the giant's armor.
The ancient serpent coiled around the great tree.
The luminous fruit hidden beneath the white-feathered leaves, carrying unfathomable wisdom.
The deep, abyssal roots whispering profane words into the earth.
In the presence of such grandiose visions, Wanda felt utterly small and insignificant. The sheer magnitude of it left her breathless, waking in a cold sweat.
Everything was crystal clear—except for the giant's face, shrouded in blinding light.
Solomon glanced at the sacred markings on his fingers. Clearly, they had affected Wanda as well.
"Wanda, I'd like to teach you a new spell. Don't worry, it's not black magic—just a simple, practical cantrip."
His smile melted the tension in the room, and Wanda let out a quiet breath of relief.
When she cast the spell as instructed, Solomon knew he had won.
Even if Chthon had his designs on Wanda Maximoff, Solomon now had a way to fight back.
"Remember to use the Ouija board before bed, Wanda," he advised. "That dream won't affect you too much. You've already grasped the basics of communication magic, and soon you'll be able to contact my astral form properly. Tonight, try Candlelight Communion—I'll make the necessary preparations for you."
"And tomorrow, eat lightly. Avoid rough foods."
Before leaving, he winked at the Maximoff twins.
"Pietro, stay away from your sister's books! Tomorrow, we're dining at Le Chat Blanc in Paris as a reward for your progress!"
Pietro glanced at Wanda, then tapped his temple, silently questioning what their teacher was up to. Wanda, equally puzzled, simply shrugged.
Neither of them understood why Solomon was in such a good mood.
Solomon left, satisfied enough to even forget about giving Pietro extra assignments.
He had to speak with the Ancient One about his discovery and his recent accomplishments. He was certain she would be pleased with his experiment's success.
It had been a risky gambit, but he had succeeded.
Now, he had the right to speak with the Earth Mother, Gaea.
And only one person could arrange that meeting—Merlin.
The old trickster was the only one capable of contacting Gaea, and Solomon had no choice but to go through him.
It was infuriating.
Solomon had never even met Merlin in person. The enigmatic sorcerer was a mystery, his existence unquestionable but his whereabouts unknown. This time, however, Solomon needed a direct conversation.
Balthazar was out of the question—he had retired.
Dave hadn't even finished his studies and had no access to Merlin.
That left only one option.
He needed the Ancient One's help.
Otherwise, Merlin would just send illusions to fool him.
The infuriating old man had a thousand faces—who knew if he was already lurking nearby?
"Someone's coming."
Wanda tapped the wall, signaling Pietro to quiet down.
A HYDRA agent peered through the observation window, his sharp gaze sweeping the room.
"Not bad, kid."
The agent muttered in approval before shutting the window. He tossed his gun into the corner and, in an instant, transformed.
Now, he was an old man in an ivory wool coat and a plaid scarf. Tall and lean, his face was etched with deep wrinkles, and his long white hair cascaded past his shoulders.
But his most striking feature was his eyes—brilliant, swirling with a dreamlike radiance.
Despite his aged face, his gaze held no trace of weariness. Instead, his pupils shimmered with shifting, multicolored stardust, mesmerizing enough to drown anyone who stared too long.
Merlin.
He had slipped out of En-Galleth for a brief respite and decided to check on the young sorcerer the Ancient One had placed so much faith in.
Of course, he hadn't forgotten about the last Druid of the Merlinian School.
Dave, that foolish boy—always more concerned with romance than magic.
A disgrace to the dashing legacy of the Merlinian Order.
It pained him.
"Why is Solomon so damn good at attracting women?" Merlin muttered, stepping through the solid wall with ease.
"Is he the real heir to the Merlinian School?"
Merlin had been observing Wanda all along.
Last night, he had even corrected her incantations and shielded her dream from Chthon's influence.
That reckless brat had somehow stumbled upon the truth.
Merlin recalled the intense battle from the previous night and sighed.
"Why do I still have to work overtime even when I sneak out?"
"Isn't this the Sorcerer Supreme's job?"
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