Precious One- A Doctor Strange Fanfic (Under Construction)

Introduction (Rewritten)

Sometimes secrets are meant to not be unveiled.

Sometimes they are meant to be exposed.

Sometimes secrets hide a truth some would not withstand.

But in the end, secrets are revealed one way or the other.

-
"Do you truly wish to know what hides behind the doors?" The dancing of flames encompasses the surroundings with a gentle warmth. The pop of burning wood bursts into small sparks, billowing in sizzling trails down until ceasing its luminescence.

The crowd is silent, some sharing sentiment as excitement, enthusiasm or a deep unsettling feeling that always comes with old legends of death, mystery and treason.

The figure, albeit shadowed by the heavy night's casted shadows still manages to hold everyone to their seats. The remnants of that days dinner sits poked and eaten from besides the crisp flames of the bonfire. Wooden plates carved by careful hands sit silently on the squished grass from years of being walked over by humanity.

The story teller is a woman, expression worn down by the experience of life and its many events that damage some more than the others. She is not a victim to suffering, but rather transmits the raw feelings of those who have been victimized, persecuted and inflicted pain on. All undeserving of each living soul.

She is a messenger of the untold and unbelieved. Stories belonging in fantasy books to some perespectives, and wholeheartedly believed in by others.

She leans forward, hand wrapped around a steaming cup, its beverage too obscured by the night to be recognized. But the smell was sweet and dense, slightly overwhelming in a good way. Like a heavy wool blanket that someone is wrapped in to be enveloped with a lulling warmth that puts them to sleep.

"Legends tell of a world, not far away from us. With people like you and me, living in villages that prospered and harboured within it thousands of loving families. Children ran through the stone matched streets every day, women and men sold their crops and goods in the local market. They celebrated with parties on special occasions. Truly it was a united community."

The woman made a pause, eyes roaming and settling on each and every one of the people sitting around her.

"But that contentment changed. People stopped celebrating. They spoke ill of each other and started retreating to themselves. War broke up in many of its territories, shedding the blood of the innocent and giving power to those who had bad intentions. Children stopped running through the streets, they stopped playing and exploring the world around them.

These same legends speak of a girl, wise even at her younger age and possessing abilities that no other inhabitant thought could be possible. She herself was confused with what she was capable. There was no soul that knew how to guide her through discovering the complete expanse of what she could do.

Her people, starting from her closest friend and ending on a place farther than she had even gone, were not happy with this. She was seen as a danger to everyone and evil followed her wherever she went. She realized that maybe that wasn't the place where she belonged. How could she if those she thought were her loved ones turned their backs on her? She realized this too late, as-"

"But Miss... Aren't you telling the legend of the Cloak of Levitation?"

All heads turned to look at the voice that spoke up, a girl, young and attentive, huddled in her parent's embrace. The attention she received on her end made her curiosity dim at the prospect of making someone angry for interrupting.

It didn't seem to be the case. Everyone nodding their heads in agreement. They have heard of a relic, making whoever wielded it powerful. No one knew of its whereabouts, neither if it still existed or if it even was real.

The woman regarded the girl with a gentle smile. "That's right."

The little one thought for a moment, thoroughly, then met her eyes with her own. "Then... this girl, did she create it? With... her powers?"

All eyes shifted to the storyteller, but before she could formulate an answer, someone else said.

"Where is it?"

"What does it have to do with the girl?"

"Is it true it was destroyed?"

The woman raised both hands to ask for silence, but out of the dark expanse walked a man. Tall and clothed in robes that didn't quite fit with those everyone used. His eyes wore wisdom and his posture told of authority and responsibility.

"The cloak wasn't destroyed." He stated calmly.

Murmurs rushed through the crowd in waves, judging from his attire, to the meaning of his words. The stranger waited patiently for everyone to quiet down, the heavy cloak attached around his neck gently billowing with the cold currents of an upcoming winter.

The woman took the initiative to speak, confusion altering her expression deeply.

"What do you mean?" Her question blended with the air, unanswered, when eyes focused on what laid past his back.

With a hint of smugness that was used many times, he cracked a small smile.

"I have the Cloak of Levitation."