Wizards
“What do you mean wizards,” Danny deadpaned, staring at Clockwork incredulously.
“They are called the Masters of the Mystic Arts,” Clockwork offered. “We do have a standing treaty with them, and as we now have a Prince, we should meet with them soon.”
“Wizards, Grandfather. Wizards,” Danny repeated, absolutely done with all of this.
“We are ghosts, Daniel,” Clockwork answered patiently. “In a world of superhumans and alien gods. Are earth based wizards really so shocking?”
Danny sighed, because that was a great point actually. “Fine, when do we meet with them?”
“No time like the present!” Clockwork answered chipperly.
“But what do I say?” Danny demanded, fretting.
“It is a simple meet and greet, Daniel, I assure you. Just be yourself and all will be well.”
Danny sighed but allowed Clockwork to fuss with his crown and cloak until he looks appropriately “princely”. Then Clockwork guided him through a portal.
They came out in the skies above NYC, which Danny was not honestly expecting. Wizards? Really? Here?
“The head of their order, the Sorcerer Supreme as they call him, resides in their base here in New York,” Clockwork explained. “He is fairly new to his role as well. His name is Stephen Strange, though he prefers to be called Doctor Strange.”
“Why?” Danny asked, following Clockwork.
“He was a neurosurgeon. Until he crashed his car and damaged the nerves in his hands.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”
Clockwork descended in front of a large, old building with seidr seeping out of it.
“This is it. Knock on the door, Daniel.”
Danny lifted the heavy knocker and let it pound back down onto the door. A moment later the door creaked open ominously to reveal…yep, definitely a wizard. He was wearing a red cloak, ostentatious green robes, and holy shit what was in his necklace that gave off that kind of energy signature?
“Do you have a reality gem in your necklace?” Danny demanded, propping his hands on his hips and glaring down at the wizard (Danny was only tall enough to glare down at the wizard because he was floating above him, but that was entirely beside the point).
“Are you ghosts?” Wizard man (presumably Doctor Strange) asked, his eye twitching.
“Yes. Are you going to invite us in?” Danny answered, still eyeing the definitely not reality gem containing necklace. It can’t be a reality gem, because he gave those to the core goddamnit.
“By all means,” Wizard answered, stepping back and gesturing them inside.
Danny could feel the wards brush against his core as he entered. There’s powerful, ancient magic guarding this place. Ancient for Earth, at least, but powerful nonetheless.
Clockwork followed him in and the door banged shut behind them. Danny looked around at the many ancient relics displayed proudly in glass cases. There’s powerful protective magic on each and every one of those, too. He turned back to face the Wizard.
“I am Prince Phantom of the Infinite Realms.”
“And I am Clockwork, Master of Time.”
“Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme,” Wizard answered, haughtily. Then, he turned his face over his shoulder. “WONG! THE GHOSTS ARE HERE!” he bellowed.
Danny had to try very hard not to wince at, not the volume, but the magical reverb in Doctor Strange’s voice.
“Well, do come in and sit down, I suppose,” Doctor Strange added, directed at Danny and Clockwork this time. Then he paused mid-step, turned back to face them. “Wait. Do ghosts sit down?” he asked, and his fledgling magic prodded at Danny’s core. Very inelegantly and obviously.
Does he not realize he’s doing it?
“We can, yes,” Danny answered, irritated.
The man had something with the power of a reality gem around his neck, some of the most powerful wards Danny’s ever felt on Earth protecting him, a cloak that’s absolutely sentient on his shoulders, and he’s dripping in seidr. And his qualifications are what?
Doctor Strange lead them to a library where the majority of the books give off a clear magical signature, gestured helpfully at a sofa, and floated down into his armchair.
Danny, uncharitably, already kind of despises this man. Nonetheless, he takes a seat on the sofa beside Clockwork.
“Stephen! We have guests, and you didn’t even offer them tea?” Another man admonished, striding purposefully into the room with a tea tray in his hands.
All Danny saw was his seidr, woven skillfully around him like a well-worn coat.
This one knows what he’s doing.
“Why aren’t you in charge?” Danny asked the man, as he set down the tea set on the low coffee table. Doctor Strange sputtered while the new man laughed heartily.
“What? Why would he be?” Doctor Strange asked, self-consciously smoothing down his robes.
His irritation tinged the air, pinging against Danny’s core. Stupid child-ghost constant energy absorption.
“He knows how to wield his magic,” Danny explained.
“Ah. I have been a sorcerer for many years. Forgive me, my name is Wong,” the man introduced, bowing briefly.
“I’m Prince Phantom of the Infinite Realms,” Danny returned, inclining his head briefly.
His crown tingled briefly, shimmering with power no doubt. It had a tendency to do that, he’d found. Usually with the appropriate sense of dramatic timing. Ereshkigal has a sense of humor after all.
“Wait, you can…sense magic?” Doctor Strange asked.
He was eyeing Danny speculatively.
Danny grinned, sharp canines poking out.
“I’m the Prince of the Infinite Realms. Of course I can sense seidr. And I can tell you have no idea how to use yours.”
“Phantom,” Clockwork chided.
But Doctor Strange was blinking at him thoughtfully.
“I saved this universe,” he said, voice challenging.
The man had his shoulders squared and set. He was frowning thoughtfully.
“What happened?” Danny asked, because while most people would read his demeanor as “haughty” there was something in his face that made Danny think “haunted”. That and the emotional energy in the air. Okay, maybe he was cheating, but same difference.
And the Sorcerer Supreme obligingly wove a tale of a demon, an alternate dimension, and an uncountably high number of deaths. All his own. Repeated. Infinitely. It sounds like Danny’s worst nightmare, or one of them anyway.
While the story gives him a better understanding of Stephen Strange, honestly, it does not make the man more likable. As far as Danny gathered, he took a fairly simple problem and over complicated it to excessive and torturous lengths. Just kill the whatever-his-name-was god of the underworld, or else close the portal between worlds. Duh.
“And you’re sure that’s not a reality gem?” Danny demanded, when the story was finished, squinting suspiciously at the so-called “Time Stone”.
“I don’t know what a reality gem is,” Stephen snapped back irritably.
“Stephen wields an Infinity Stone,” Wong interrupted, serenely.
“Grandfather,” Danny finds himself saying, turning to Clockwork, a sense of dread growing inside him. “Are there multiple sets of rocks that are magical building blocks of the universe?”
Clockwork shrugged. “Just the two, I believe. You, of all people, should know that most ghostly artefacts have a non-ghostly equivalent.”
Danny could feel the headache forming. “Are you telling me these…Infinity Stones are the non-ghostly equivalent of the Reality Gems?”
“Indeed,” Clockwork agreed serenely.
“And you didn’t think to mention that?” Danny stressed, waving a hand expressively.
Clockwork tilted his head to the side. “I didn’t?” He asked, sounding genuinely confused. “Apologies, grandson. I believed I had.”
“It’s alright,” Danny assured, patting Clockwork’s hand. Danny knew, of course, that keeping track of multiple timelines was terribly difficult. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Clockwork to keep track of every possible timeline. Things were bound to get confused sometimes. Danny was honestly surprised it didn’t happen more often.
“What are ‘reality gems’?” Stephen asked, sounding vaguely annoyed.
“The building blocks of reality,” Danny offerred, blandly. “Look, it’s not important. I took care of those. No one can access them anymore. Tell me about the Infinity Stones.”
Stephen’s face took on a distinctly irritated look.
“Tell me about the Reality Gems, and I’ll tell you about the Infinity Stones,” he answered.
Danny glared at him. Was he being unreasonable right now? Maybe a little. But these Infinity Stones were clearly a Clear and Present Threat, whereas the only one who even had a chance of accessing the Reality Gems was Danny himself.
His eyes flashed in irritation as he glared at Stephen Strange.
“This isn't a negotiation, Wizard,” he grinded out. “If you won’t give me the information I need, I’ll just ask someone else.”
Was Danny being an asshole on purpose right now? Yes, yes he was. But he’s already significantly more mature than Stephen Strange, and he’s tired of dealing with the man. Man-child, more like. He’s dripping in seidr and power and doesn’t even know how to use it, and he claims it’s his job to protect Earth from intra-dimensional threats? As if Clockwork and the Ancients haven’t been doing that since the dawn of time?
They glare at each other for a long moment.
“There are six Infinity Stones,” Wong interrupted, serenely, though anxious energy is practically oozing from the man. “Space, Soul, Mind, Reality, Power, and Time. I trust the names are self explanatory,” he added, dryly. “We, the Masters of the Mystic Arts, are in possession of the Time Stone. I do not know the locations of the other stones. These six stones were formed during the big bang and are fundamental building blocks of the universe. Needless to say, whoever possesses these stones has great power. Too much power, some would say. It is our sacred duty as the Masters of the Mystic Arts to guard the time stone above all else. Does that answer your question adequately, Prince Phantom?”
“It does, thank you,” Danny answered, nodding thankfully to Wong.
“Now, if there’s nothing else, we’ll be leaving,” Clockwork interrupted cheerfully.
There was nothing else.
“Why would you answer him?” Stephen asked Wong, once the Ghost Prince has left.
“You would have been wise to,” Wong reprimanded tiredly. “Did you not feel the sheer amount of magical energy coming off the Prince?”
Stephen huffed. “He was a child.”
“He’s a ghost,” Wong countered. “Their appearance means nothing. He could be centuries old, millenia even. And did it escape your notice that he’s the Grandson of the Master of Time?”
Stephen blinked at him. “The ghost with him? I assumed it was an honorary title.”
“Stephen. Ghosts don’t have honorary titles. Ridiculous titles, maybe, but never honorary. They say what they mean and they mean what they say. And Clockwork, the Master of Time, is potentially the single oldest ghost in existence. He maintains the timelines. Do you understand?” Wong stressed.
“But I have the time stone,” Stephen protested.
Wong threw his hands up in frustration.
“Because he lets you keep it!”
“Really?”
“STEPHEN!”