"It's not just seven years ago... You just don't remember. I held you in my arms the day you were born." The mysterious yellow-robed woman spoke with a calm smile.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. His voice was sharp with suspicion. "Who are you, and what was your relationship with my parents?"
The woman slowly lifted the hood of her robe, revealing her unmistakable identity—the bald head that signified a true master of the mystic arts. "My name is The Ancient One, and I am a sorcerer."
Ethan exhaled sharply but didn't seem shocked. His suspicions had already led him to this conclusion. A bald woman in a flowing yellow robe who could summon portals? It was obvious.
"You don't look surprised," The Ancient One observed, her gaze calm yet piercing—similar to how Professor X would study someone's mind, as if seeing through his very soul.
Of course, I'm not surprised, Ethan thought. Not only do I know who you are, but I also know the truth about you secretly tapping into the Dark Dimension's power.
Still, he kept those thoughts to himself. Instead, he responded, "Mages like you prefer to operate behind the scenes.
Your movements may be mysterious, but you're not as hidden as you think. Don't underestimate the so-called 'mortals' in your eyes."
The Ancient One nodded in approval. Unlike many arrogant mystics, she had always acknowledged the potential of ordinary people.
"You still haven't answered me," Ethan pressed on. "What was your connection to my parents?"
"Your parents were once my finest students." A nostalgic glimmer flickered in The Ancient One's eyes.
Ethan's breath hitched. "My parents… were sorcerers?" He had never considered such a possibility.
He always thought they had their secrets, but magic had never crossed his mind.
Thinking back, though, if they were powerful sorcerers, it would've been easy for them to conceal the truth from him.
"They didn't want you to know." The Ancient One's voice softened. "They wanted to protect you."
"I don't care about that. I just want to know where they are." His voice trembled slightly. "After all these years…"
Even though he had lived another life before, in this one, his parents had raised him.
They were his family.
He wanted them to be alive, to return after seven years, to tell him they had their reasons, even if it meant scolding him afterward.
But The Ancient One's sigh shattered that fragile hope. "Lucas and Emily are gone."
Ethan's world darkened. He had anticipated this answer, but hearing it still left a hollow ache in his chest.
His fists clenched. "How did they die?"
"They fought a Dark Sorcerer," The Ancient One admitted solemnly.
Ethan's expression turned cold. "Tell me their name."
"It doesn't matter anymore." The Ancient One held his gaze. "Your father cast a forbidden spell in his final moments, ensuring their enemy perished alongside them."
Ethan's clenched fists loosened slightly. His thirst for vengeance had nowhere to go.
He felt as if he had been ready to throw a punch but hit only air.
"You're kidding me…"
He sat down, rubbing his face in frustration. "What kind of father doesn't even leave his kid an enemy to chase?"
The Ancient One's expression turned serious. "That's not the kind of man Lukas was. He never would have left his child to inherit a vendetta. Maybe he wasn't perfect, but he wasn't a failure as a father."
She pointed at the black notebook in Ethan's hands. "And they did leave something behind."
Ethan hesitated before opening the notebook. Inside, on the first page, he saw two elegant words: "Emily Hunt."
The words glowed momentarily, then shifted into new writing:
"For my dearest child—Ethan."
His hands trembled as his vision blurred with unshed tears. "Mom…"
For a long moment, he simply held the notebook, as if it were a piece of his parents that had returned to him.
Finally, he lifted his gaze to The Ancient One, eyes burning with newfound determination. "Can I learn magic?"
"Of course," she said without hesitation. "In fact, I had planned to bring you to Kamar-Taj years ago, but there was a dangerous conflict in the mystical world at the time.
I didn't want you involved, so I placed you in the orphanage instead and secured this house for you. I had intended to return when you were older to explain everything."
She gave a knowing smile. "But then, just yesterday, I learned someone had forcefully reclaimed this house.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered it was you. It seems you've grown into someone capable. Even without magic, you've obtained other strengths."
Ethan looked at her carefully. "Will my current abilities interfere with magic?"
"No," she assured him. "Your powers will not conflict with magic."
He let out a breath of relief. The last thing he wanted was some bizarre rule where using magic would drain his life force or something equally ridiculous.
"So… are you taking me to Kamar-Taj now?" Ethan asked, feeling slightly conflicted. There was no way he could explain his absence to Fury and Professor X with something like, 'Hey, I need some time off to study magic in a secret temple.'
Yeah, no way that would fly.
The Ancient One chuckled knowingly. "No need. Your father's notebook contains detailed lessons. You can begin learning here."
Ethan flipped through the pages, frowning when he saw they were blank. "Are you sure? There's nothing written here."
"Write down your questions," she instructed. "The notebook will respond."
"That's actually pretty cool…" Ethan muttered, eyes lighting up with interest as he reached for a pen.
But before he could try, The Ancient One's body flickered. A strange look crossed her face. "We'll continue this another time. I must leave."
Ethan could tell something was wrong. "What's happening?"
"I'll return soon to check your progress." She stepped into a portal, her presence vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared.
Ethan stared at the fading golden embers of the portal, rubbing his chin. "That was sudden."
Yet, something nagged at him. For a brief moment, just before she vanished, he could've sworn The Ancient One's body had looked… transparent.
...
"The awakening of mutant abilities typically occurs during adolescence, a time when the human body is at its peak vitality but also highly unstable, both physically and emotionally. If subjected to intense stimulation, whether emotional distress or physical trauma, there is a small chance that the dormant X-gene within an individual may activate.
Many ordinary people fear mutants, but that fear is largely unfounded. Research suggests that up to 80% of humanity may carry latent mutant genes."
Standing at the front of the classroom, Storm was passionately delivering a lecture on mutant genetics, her presence commanding attention.
Ethan sat at his desk, listening intently. After a week of dealing with the aftermath of the Abomination incident, he was finally back at the academy.
Everything seemed to be returning to normal, except for the inconvenient one-hour commute.
Fortunately, American schools had late start times, which meant he didn't have to wake up at an ungodly hour just to make it to class.
Of course, he wasn't particularly concerned about missing Cyclops' morning training sessions either.
Despite Storm's occasional worries, Cyclops had long since stopped paying attention to Ethan's presence in combat training.
It wasn't exactly fair to have him participate when he had already gone toe-to-toe with Magneto and lived to tell the tale.
This was part of the reason Ethan enjoyed theoretical classes more than practical training. It wasn't just his genuine interest in the subject—it was also the fact that, in a lecture, he didn't have to hold back.
As he focused on Storm's lecture, he became aware of two pairs of eyes locked onto him.
He didn't even need to turn his head to know who they belonged to—Bobby and John, two of his closest friends.
The moment the final bell rang, marking the end of the school day, the two wasted no time in rushing over to him.
"Dude, where the hell have you been all week?" John clapped a hand on Ethan's shoulder.
"I got a part-time job," Ethan answered casually.
John and Bobby exchanged baffled glances. A student at Xavier's taking on a part-time job? That was unheard of.
"A part-time job?" Bobby echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You do realize that students here don't really need to do that, right?"
"Yeah, well, I like to keep busy."
Bobby sighed. "That explains why Storm barged into our dorm yesterday and took all your stuff. She said you were moving into a private residence.
What's up with that? I didn't even know Xavier's had an off-campus housing program."
"Well, turns out they do," Ethan said with a grin. "Besides, it's not like I was spending much time in the dorms anyway."
Bobby stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to piece together some kind of puzzle.
Ethan's whole situation didn't make sense—he was a mutant at Xavier's Academy, but he also had an absurd amount of independence. Not to mention, there were… rumors.
Bobby hesitated before speaking again. "Okay, fine. But I gotta ask… where were you that night?"
Ethan met his gaze without flinching. "Saving people."
Bobby inhaled sharply. "So that was you?"
Ethan smirked and patted him on the shoulder. "Take a guess."
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed for the exit.
Standing at the front gates, Ethan glanced toward the direction of home, then shifted his gaze elsewhere.
"It's still early," he muttered to himself. "Might as well check in at S.H.I.E.L.D."
Half an hour later, Ethan was standing in front of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. But instead of heading straight to Fury's office, he made his way toward the recovery wing.
Navigating the corridors with practiced ease, he stopped in front of a door, took a deep breath, and knocked.
"Come in," a soft voice called from inside.
Ethan pushed the door open with a smile. Lying in the hospital bed was a young girl with light brown hair and a frail complexion. Her expression brightened the moment she saw him.
"Hey, how are you feeling today?" he asked.
"I'm doing pretty well," she answered with a warm smile. "The doctor says I was really lucky. The rusty metal didn't hit any vital organs, so my recovery's been smooth. If all goes well, I should be out of here by next month."
"That's great news." Ethan nodded, grabbing an apple from the bedside fruit basket and slowly peeling it.
"The doctor said I should be grateful to the person who brought me here." She gazed at Ethan knowingly.
"He said that, given how much blood I'd lost, I shouldn't have survived more than half an hour. And yet, somehow, my wounds were incredibly clean—like someone had taken care of it before I even arrived."
Ethan remained silent, focused on peeling the apple.
"Thank you," she said sincerely.
"Come on, Katie," Ethan waved a hand dismissively. "We're friends, right? No need to thank me."
"Just friends?" she asked quietly.
Ethan saw her expression, and for a second, his heart skipped a beat.
Ethan's knife slipped, and the apple peel dropped to the floor.
His brain momentarily short-circuited as he processed the sudden shift in atmosphere.
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the caller ID and immediately felt the urge to throw the device out the window.
Who the hell was calling at a moment like this? But after a deep breath, he begrudgingly answered.
"Sorry, I gotta take this," he said, handing the peeled apple to Katie before stepping out of the room.
Katie watched him leave, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face before she shook it off.
She wasn't the kind of girl to mope around over missed chances.
She clenched her fist slightly, determination lighting up her eyes.
If there was one thing she had realized after her near-death experience, it was that she didn't want to sit around waiting.
She needed to get stronger.
She needed to stand beside him, not behind him.
Lost in thought, she didn't notice the apple slipping through her fingers—until it phased right through her hand and hit the floor with a soft thud.
Thud.
_____________
Word count: 2054
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