In the Dead of the Night || Winter Soldier

Eight: Crash Course in Magic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, with a fictional twist of mythologies and religions. What is written in this chapter has no intention of offending or challenging anyone's beliefs, for like I said, it is a work of fiction. Please don't burn me at the stake for witchcraft and blasphemy. Love you all xx

"You said you don't use a wand."

"I don't use a wand."

"Then what's that?"

"A staff." Clearly.

"It has a skull on the top of it."

"You have a skull on top of you."

Brooding, Winter Soldier glare intensifies like it is its own entity, fixated unmovably on me. His glare can sometimes speak more than words or a picture ever could.

Sheepishly, I shrink into my shoulders with a lop-sided, bashful smile whilst continuing to lean against my wooden black and vibranium staff. "Hee hee, sorry. Right, well, I'm a necromancer, so, you know, I work with dead people – spirits, imps, demons, poltergeists, undead and souls all kinda faction into that."

After having helped the assassin up off the floor, and a quick conjuration of a regeneration and purification poultice in the kitchen downstairs, I sat him back down on the same couch I lay him across the first night I brought him here. Freshly brewed sage tea and a chocolate chip cookie in hand – figured that would win me over a few points and ease him a smidge – he allows T'Challa to circle and ease himself onto his lap, Lady, for once, electing to lie herself down at my feet as I sit on the floor before him with the glass and timber coffee table between us. Precaution, 'tis all.

Glare softening more into a pouty grump – he's got such a perfect meme face – he expectantly waits for a proper elaboration into the magical arts I practice, and why I have Pandora's Box in my room as well, probably.

"Before I go into all the 'Ahh, demons! Ahh, imps! Ahh, ghosts! Ahh, this isn't like Harry Potter!' I should probably give you a crash course in magic itself," I begin, tenderly caressing Lady's head in my lap with the hand not holding a cup of tea.

"You see, the source of power in the universe comes from these concentrated ingots or 'stones' called the Infinity Stones. They were created at the beginning of existence, and represent every aspect of existence in the universe itself; power, time, space, reality, soul and mind. Everyone connects to them in some way; we all have some kind of power, we all are subjects to time, we all live in a point in space, we all live in reality, we all have a soul – you would hope – and we all have a mind. When it comes to us, the universe and the other beings within it, we are all subject to these stones and what each of them stands for. In the instance of magic, however, these stones are... not really important. They're important to know about though, in the very least."

"At the time these stones were created, three sisters were born," I slowly continue, allowing the information to settle in his mind at a rate he is comfortable with. Already he looks completely lost. "These sisters have too many friggin names to count, and are depicted differently in so many accounts over history, such as the three witches from Macbeth, Graeae from Greek myth, Greek Moirai, the northern European Norns, the Roman Parcae, the Slavic Sudice, the Celtic Morrigan, the Baltic goddess Laima and her two sisters, and so many more that I can't think of at the moment because I almost failed history. Because there are so many different names for them, we can't actually trace back to what their real names were, they are lost to time, so we just call them by what each of them represent. For, each sister was an original power – the three different kinds of magicks that a magical practitioner can work with; elemental, mind and arcane."