"This is the Eye of Agamotto. Vishanti created several of them, it's not like there's only one."
Alaric said this calmly, without any weight in his voice, as if talking about something trivial.
After all, divine beings have their own ways, and the question of "copyright" belonged to them.
"Interesting... but I would still like to know how you, of all people, came into possession of such a sacred artifact," said Kaecilius, forcing a smile, while jealousy gnawed at his heart.
He couldn't understand. Why did everyone, from the Ancient One to the Vishanti themselves, show such affection toward Alaric? Why not him? Wasn't he dedicated enough? Hadn't he given everything?
A flame of envy began to smolder within him, soon flaring up.
"Maybe because I'm... more handsome," said Alaric with a slight smile, touching his face as if pondering.
Kaecilius froze for a moment, then gave a stiff laugh. He didn't know if Alaric was provoking him or being serious.
"In any case," Alaric continued, rising from the table, "it's time for me to go. I have a lot of work to do."
Kaecilius saw him off with a fake smile, suppressing the urge to stop him.
"Of course, Master Alaric, come again whenever you wish. You're always welcome."
Internally, however, he was scheming. He would have to study Alaric's relationship with the Ancient One more carefully. If he discovered any rift between them, perhaps he could sway him to his side. Still, Alaric seemed too calm, too stable, someone who didn't chase immortality, someone who didn't crave power.
After Alaric left, Kaecilius remained deep in thought. His mind returned to the Book of Cagliostro, a text so complex that only the Ancient One could fully comprehend it.
"What exactly do these spells mean...?" he murmured to himself.
Even after countless magical books read, he could hardly unravel the ancient symbols and cryptic patterns. Alaric and Strange, thanks to their gift of remembering every detail, were able to interpret what was impossible for others.
Kaecilius, without that gift, could only advance slowly, interpreting sentence by sentence, and only with the help of other texts. It was a grueling, exhausting process.
...
Over the next few days, Alaric secluded himself in his temple, devoted to studying the writings left by the Vishanti. Using the All-Seeing Eye, he tried to penetrate their logic and structure.
However, even after several days of nonstop work, he was able to understand only a small part. The reason was clear, the magic of the Vishanti wasn't written in human language, but in a complex system of symbols and codes that defied ordinary reasoning.
Although his mind was exceptionally sharp, even Alaric couldn't decipher everything. He was aware that he lacked the knowledge of ancient times, myths and stories that shaped the very concept of magic.
So he resorted to old methods.
He began studying historical texts, legends, and myths from various cultures. In them, traces of information about ancient spells and divine phenomena were hidden. Even the oldest European legends about witches and wizards could contain fragments of lost knowledge.
It was a monumental task, nearly impossible.
Compared to Kaecilius, who spent days trying to understand a single page from the Book of Cagliostro, Alaric felt like he was studying hundreds of tomes at once.
He jokingly thought that his brain might soon "burn out" from overload.
Lately, he had hardly left the temple. For days he read, interpreted, and translated, magical formulas, ancient symbols, and writings about deities.
"Another book finished," he finally said, placing a thick volume on the table. Tired, he lay on the sofa and closed his eyes.
"What other legends speak of magic...? Are there more stories about European witches?"
His voice echoed quietly in the empty room.
"If I had known, I would've asked Oshtur in the Supreme Dimension directly about the Book of Vishanti. Just looking at it would've been enough to understand everything..."
After a short rest, he opened his eyes.
"And the Darkhold... where exactly did it originate from?"
Thinking of that, he stood up and decided to go to the historical library in London. If there were records anywhere about old magics and legends of witches, it would be there.
Without hesitation, he activated teleportation magic and appeared inside the library itself.
He was now dressed in a black British suit, elegant and perfectly tailored. His tall figure and calm stride drew glances.
"Hey, Jane! I just saw a tall and handsome guy!"
A girl with brown, slightly curly hair falling down her back excitedly tugged at her friend who was walking with her nose in a book. Her eyes were fixed on Alaric as he approached between the shelves.
"Yeah, yeah... go ask him for his number," Jane Foster mumbled, not lifting her gaze from the text she was studying.
Unlike Darcy's superficial fascination with passersby, Jane was fully focused on the book in her hands.
As a dedicated astrophysicist, she was currently dealing with the question of how to develop a theory strong enough to gain recognition in academic circles.
Her attention was focused on wormholes, the theory of connecting space-time points in the universe. If she could demonstrate the possibility of passing through a wormhole, it would be a revolution in astrophysics.
Jane had read numerous papers on gravitational anomalies and quantum tunnels, but was also simultaneously studying myths: the Bifrost, Yggdrasil, the Nine Realms from Norse mythology...
Not because she believed in them, but because she was looking for patterns. If even one of those stories had a foundation in something real, it could help her develop the formula.
"Jane! Seriously, do you know how old you are? Every day buried in those astronomical calculations... people age! A little romance won't ruin your career!"
Darcy sighed, trying to pierce Jane's shell.
"Got it. So you want me to fire you, so you go get in a relationship, then come back begging me for an internship?"
Jane replied indifferently, without even glancing at her.
Meanwhile, Alaric, who was walking a few meters away, paused slightly. He had heard their names. Jane. Astronomy. Darcy.
That was enough to trigger memories from future timelines.
"Jane Foster... so already now..."
He knew he was in the time period before Thor arrived on Earth. Even Tony Stark hadn't yet experienced the events of Iron Man II.
"So, I've met an important character before the 'story' officially unfolded."
While he was thinking, there was a soft thud and a startled female voice. He turned and saw Jane lose her balance and fall, her books slipping from her hands.
Opposite her, another woman also sat on the floor, massaging her shoulder. Obviously, they had collided.
"Hey! Are you okay?" Darcy crouched beside Jane and helped her up.
"I'm fine... just bumped a little," Jane replied, gently rubbing her elbow.
"Watch where you're going, ma'am!" Darcy snapped at the other woman while gathering scattered books.
"Do you want help?"
Suddenly, a gentle voice sounded in Jane's ears, and a strong yet careful hand wrapped around hers and pulled her upward.
Before she could gather herself, she was already standing on her feet.
"I'm not... nothing special..." she stammered, lifting her gaze.
The eyes looking at her were dark, almost black, but in their depths was something... stellar.
Shimmering reflections of light, like constellations in motion.
Jane felt as if she were looking through a telescope into an unknown part of the universe, the place she had always tried to find.
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