Chapter 3: Kamar-Taj

Seven days had passed since they left Sokovia.

In Kamanthu, Nepal, Pietro finally allowed himself a moment to stretch, feeling every muscle groan in protest after the grueling drive. Wanda followed suit, twisting her back and rolling her shoulders to shake off the stiffness that had settled in after hours of sitting.

"So, where to now?" Wanda asked, her voice carrying a mix of fatigue and curiosity.

"Kamar-Taj," Pietro replied, glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings. "But first, I'll scout around to make it easier to find. Keep an eye on the car for me, will you?"

Wanda frowned, clearly not thrilled with the idea. "Can't I come with you?"

Pietro shot her a quick, teasing smile. "Do you have super speed?"

She sighed, conceding the point. "No… fine, I'll stay."

As Pietro vanished in a blur, darting through the narrow streets in search of their destination, Wanda was left alone with the humming silence of the town. She fiddled with the car keys, already bored, when suddenly a portal shimmered into existence before her.

Startled, she took a step back, eyes wide as three men in robes emerged. The one at the front inclined his head respectfully. "You are Wanda Maximoff, correct?"

"Yes," she answered cautiously, trying to mask her surprise. "How do you know my name?"

"The Ancient One has been expecting you," he said, his tone reverent, as though he were discussing a revered figure.

"The Ancient One?" Wanda echoed, her confusion deepening.

"We are from Kamar-Taj," the man explained gently. "You need not be wary of us."

Wanda's gaze flicked between the three men, her suspicion far from eased. "If that's true, can you wait for my brother? He's just—"

"Pietro Maximoff will join you shortly," the man assured her with a calm smile. "He will arrive at Kamar-Taj on his own."

Wanda wasn't quite ready to trust them, though. "If I follow you, can you bring the car?" Her voice was firm, a subtle test of their intentions, knowing full well she could handle herself if it came to that.

"Of course, Wanda Maximoff," he said, as the other two men moved smoothly, teleporting the car away in a flash.

She hesitated for a moment, but something in his demeanor—or perhaps the mere fact that they knew her so well—compelled her to follow.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit alley, Pietro was struggling. Every door he checked led nowhere, each one identical, each one a dead end. Frustration gnawed at him, and the pounding headache from hours of driving made it worse. But just as he was about to give up, his gaze settled on a door that felt… different. With a sigh of relief, he sank to the ground in front of it, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders.

The door creaked open behind him, revealing a figure cloaked in shadows. A man with a commanding presence stepped out, his voice calm yet authoritative. "Follow me, Pietro Maximoff."

Pietro glanced up, recognizing the man instantly. A smirk tugged at his lips. 'Mordo, huh?' He pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the weariness, and fell in step behind him.

As they walked through the winding corridors, Mordo's curiosity broke the silence. "It's been a long time since the Ancient One sent someone out to personally retrieve anyone. Who exactly are you, Pietro Maximoff? Even with the perception-filtering magic, you managed to find the right door."

Pietro chuckled, his tone light. "Just a humble speedster, nothing more. Unlike you, a Master of the Mystic Arts."

Mordo's eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued. "You know more than you should. How does someone so young, with so little experience, possess such knowledge?"

Pietro's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "That's a trade secret." Then, a thought struck him. "Wait—Wanda. I left her behind."

"No need to worry," Mordo assured him. "Your sister has already arrived."

Pietro muttered under his breath, "The Ancient One really enjoys playing tricks on people."

Mordo gave a small, knowing smile. "She means no harm. Now, head inside. She's waiting for you."

Pietro stepped into the room, but instead of finding himself indoors, he was suddenly surrounded by an ethereal landscape—a different dimension altogether. The Ancient One stood there, serene and composed, as if expecting him. She turned, a faint smile on her lips. "Welcome to Kamar-Taj, Pietro."

Pietro raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Did you practice that for dramatic effect?"

The Ancient One chuckled softly. "That's a discussion for another time."

"Can we cut to the chase?" Pietro asked, impatience creeping into his voice.

"You wish to learn the Mystic Arts," she stated, more a fact than a question.

"Yeah," Pietro nodded, his tone earnest.

"You may," she said simply.

Pietro blinked, surprised. "Oh. I thought there'd be a test or something—"

"Like Stephen Strange?" The Ancient One shook her head slightly. "No, you've already shown humility and an understanding of your place in the grand scheme of things. But as for your sister's Chaos Magic, I will teach her to control it."

Pietro's shoulders relaxed, gratitude washing over him. "Thank you."

"There's no need," the Ancient One replied gently. "I know you're concerned about Chthon, but rest assured, it will be fine. For now, focus on your own journey."

Pietro nodded, the weight of his worries lightened for the first time in days. "Thank you. Truly."

"You're welcome," the Ancient One said with a serene smile, her gaze holding a depth of understanding that needed no further words.

...

Pietro stepped out of his room, glancing down at his new attire. The clothes were a modern take on the traditional Tibetan monk's robes, blending ancient design with contemporary flair. Despite the change, the two gladius swords still hung by his side. He ran a hand over the fabric, nodding in approval. "I kind of like this," he murmured to himself.

But there was someone he needed to find. Pietro began his search, weaving through the quiet halls and serene courtyards of Kamar-Taj. After about thirty-five minutes of wandering, he finally spotted her. Wanda was sitting alone on a bench, her eyes fixed on the sky, lost in thought.

Silently, Pietro approached from behind and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. "What've you been up to?" he asked, his voice soft in her ear.

Wanda startled slightly, but when she realized it was him, she relaxed into the embrace. She had missed this, the comfort of his presence. "Just thinking," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy.

Pietro slid onto the bench beside her, guiding her head to rest on his shoulder with a gentle push. "The Ancient One will be training you, right?"

"Yeah," Wanda said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "She told me the power I have could destroy the world if I don't learn to control it." Her words hung in the air, heavy with fear.

Pietro's hand found its way to her hair, smoothing it down in a soothing gesture. "It's true," he said, his tone honest yet comforting. "But you're not alone in this. If you ever lose control, I'll be there to help you. Trust me, just like I trust you."

Wanda let out a small, shaky laugh, trying to lighten the moment. "I'm supposed to be the older one, you know. The responsible sister. But I'll let it slide this time."

They shared a quiet smile, the kind that only siblings understand, and settled into a peaceful silence, finding warmth and solace in each other's presence. For now, the world could wait.

Atop the highest tower in Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One stood in quiet contemplation, her gaze drifting over the distant horizon. The air was still, charged with the unspoken mysteries of the universe.

"Master Mordo," she greeted warmly, sensing his presence before he spoke. "You have something on your mind, don't you?"

Mordo offered a small smile, his respect for her evident in his tone. "You always see right through me." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Who is Pietro Maximoff? He possesses knowledge of our existence, and his eyes... they carry the weight of someone who has faced death many times."

The Ancient One's smile deepened, touched with a hint of mystery. "He is a man displaced, yet destined to restore balance. He will guide the world back to where it belongs."

Mordo frowned slightly, her words as cryptic as ever.

"It's not your time to understand fully," she continued, her voice serene yet firm. "Train him, and you will see. Pietro will become one of your finest students."

Mordo nodded, accepting her guidance, but his thoughts shifted to another concern. "And his sister? I've heard she wields Chaos Magic, a power unlike any other. Will you lead her down the right path?"

The Ancient One's expression softened, a quiet resolve in her eyes. "I will. Wanda Maximoff is... special. She walks a delicate line, but with the right guidance, she will find her way."

Mordo noticed her eyes cloud momentarily as she murmured to herself, "A man out of the world and the Scarlet Witch..."

Then, as if concluding their conversation, she turned back to him. "Master Mordo, please leave me to my thoughts."

Mordo bowed deeply, acknowledging her wisdom. "Thank you for your time, and for listening." With that, he took his leave, the heavy wooden door closing softly behind him as the Ancient One returned to her silent meditation, the weight of the future resting quietly on her shoulders.