About You

Magic

"You think you know how the world works?" Strange asked as Wanda and I stood in front of him in the courtyard of Kamar-Taj, "You think that this material universe is all there is? What is real? What mysteries lie beyond the reach of your senses? At the root of existence, mind and matter meet. Thoughts shape reality. This universe is only one of an infinite number. Worlds without end. Some are benevolent and life-giving, others filled with malice and hunger. Dark places, where powers older than time lie ravenous and waiting-"

"What powers?" I asked,

"Will you let me finish?" he asked,

I bit back a smile and nodded my head, "the language of the mystic arts is as old as civilization," he continued, "the sorcerers of antiquity called the use of this language 'spells', but if that word offends your modern sensibilities, you can call it 'abilities'. The gift that shapes reality. We harness energy drawn from other dimensions of the multiverse, to cast spells, conjure shields and weapons to make magic."

"The multiverse is real?" Wanda questioned.

Strange nodded, "it's real and it's very dangerous, it's not to be messed with, in any case."

We both nodded shyly.

"Tell me about your abilities," he asked us, crossing his legs and sitting in thin air, hovering over the courtyard.

Wanda smirked at me and joined him, hovering herself in the air and crossing her legs, "both of them link directly to the stone that gave them to us."

I nodded in agreement, joining their floating sitting stance, "Wanda's are from the mind stone, so her abilities are very intellectually charged; telekinesis, mind control, mind reading."

"And Y/Ns are from the power stone," Wanda smiled, "hers focus on a much stronger level of 'magic'; teleportation, telekinesis, energy manipulation and she has the ability to feel other's emotions when they're feeling them."

"Do you guys ever talk for yourselves?" Strange asked us.

"Yeah," we both said at the same time.

"We've been inseparable for the past ... six months really," I clarified.

"Not counting the three weeks we spent in the raft," Wanda added.

"Yeah," I smiled sadly.

"Much longer story than I asked for," Strange added, "Y/N, tell me about your first memory."

"Like ... ever?" I asked.

He nodded slowly, "first memory, go."

"Umm, I was about four or five and I was in ballet," I started.

"In the red room?" he asked.

I nodded, "Dreykov made all his widows do ballet from the moment they arrived. My first memory, in the red room, I was in ballet, and he told us to keep going, keep dancing, and keep turning. But I couldn't. I was a child, and I was tired."

"You stopped," he concluded.

"Yeah," I whispered, "I stopped, and he hit me. Not once, not even five times but until I was begging for him to stop. My ear was bleeding, and my lip was cracked. I- I never stopped again."

"Y/N," Wanda whispered sadly.

I hummed and nodded slowly.

"Channel that," Strange said.

"What?"

"Channel that anger you're feeling into your abilities," he repeated.

I furrowed my brows, and he nodded in encouragement.