Stephen Strange Holmes: A Journey of Magic and Faith

Chapter Seventeen: Extra Help Needed

Stephen braced himself on his knees, gasping for breath. Adrenaline still pounded through his system, covering so many injuries. Traces of nausea as he noted cracked ribs, possibly even cracked wrists. At the very least they would be severely bruised. Oh, he wasn't in good shape. He could push himself if he had to, but he certainly wouldn't ever advise it. But . . . Dr. Strange's stubborn memories were showing that he most likely wouldn't be getting any rest within the next twenty-four hours. Of course it had to start on the night he barely got any sleep. Technically, he should be safely ensconced in Kamar-Taj right now, blissfully unaware as he slept for the coming day.

Instead, he was on the opposite side of the world, having narrowly defended the New York Sanctum from Kaecilius and his zealots. He didn't know Master Drumm's official condition. Didn't even know where to find him so he could check up on him. However, if that annoying muffled chanting was anything to go by, that was the least of his worries at the moment.

He glared at Kaecilius, currently bound in the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. "What?" He stepped forward, removing the bands that formed a gag. He rolled his eyes at the mumbled words, the only one of which he could make out was a form of "die." "Just stop it," Stephen said, pacing away. "I said, stop it!"

"You cannot stop this, Doctor," Kaecilius said. Now that there was no immediate danger, Stephen could now see that the "black eyes" were actually magic related damage. The black shimmered with dark purple. The immediate skin surrounding it was gray with hairline fissures, flaking away like dust. Black tracks that could remind one of tear stains further disfigured his face. A familiar rune was etched between and slightly above his eyebrows.

Stephen sighed harshly. "I'm not even sure of what 'this' is," he retorted.

"It's the end and the beginning," Kaecilius answered. "The many becoming the few becoming the one."

"Look, if you're not going to start making sense, I'm just gonna have to put this thing back on," Stephen said.

"Tell me, Doctor," Kaecilius said. "You're a man of science, yes? One who understands the laws of nature. All things age. All things die. In the end our sun burns out. Our universe grows cold and perishes. But the Dark Dimension . . . it's a place beyond time."

"I'm a man who fights to preserve life, first and foremost," Stephen countered. "It's my job to protect people and help them heal once injured. To help them at least enjoy life better even if I can't fully heal them. I don't care for this evolutionary theory concerning world ending demise. That's beyond our time, and I don't see the need to rush it nor worry myself about it." He moved to replace the gag.

"This world doesn't have to die, Doctor," Kaecilius said quickly. "This world can take its rightful place among so many others as part of the One. The great and beautiful One. And we can all live forever."

Stephen scowled. "Look," he said. "In addition to the mystic arts I've also been studying the Hebrew and Christian texts. I may not know everything, but the only One who deserves to be considered 'the great and beautiful One' is Yahweh, not this Dormammu. It is also only Yahweh Who can truly offer eternal life. So what do you honestly think you'll gain from this?"

"The same as you," Kaecilius answered. "The same as everyone: Life. Eternal life."

Stephen jammed the gag into the mouth of a guarding cat statue. "What did I just say?!"

"And what is the demand, Doctor?" Kaecilius argued. "Surrender? Giving up who you are? Your life? People, especially the Church, think in terms of good and evil, but really, time is the true enemy of us all. Time kills everything."

"You are starting to sound a bit hypocritical you know that?" Stephen challenged. "Besides that, what about the people you killed?"

Kaecilius shrugged as best he could. "Tiny, momentary specks within an indifferent universe."