![]() “He’s a doctor,” you said, staring evenly at the blue-wearing man. Mordor opened his mouth as if to protest, but you held your hand up. “Allow me,” you said, pulling Strange away from the fight. There was nothing quite like the satisfaction you got from watching Mordor break in students who thought they were all that, but there was something particularly pitiful about the way his opponent fought back. You crossed your arms and leant against a pillar, watching Mordor talk about the Ancient One. However, you were sidetracked when you saw Mordo standing with the blue-wearing arrogant man from the month before. You strode back to the Hong Kong Sanctum to bring back the books Wong had borrowed from you. You knew tips and tricks to learning a language fast, especially when it’s written. Sometimes it took years for people to learn the language, but you had been a foreign language major at your undergraduate school. The language barrier rather hindered many new learners from learning new useful spells. You returned to transcribing books you had received from another sanctum into English to make it easier for new learners. You looked at the empty space on your shelves, already missing the books from being in their rightful place. He blinked slowly at you and you stalked away from him, going back to your sanctum. Go practice your endless questions elsewhere.” “I have better things to do than listen to you worry about books that are very precious to the leaders of the Mystic Arts. “The Master of the London Sanctum,” you snapped. “What is your job?” he asked and you couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine, so you rounded on him. “I was curious what those books were,” he said, his voice shocking a feeling that you haven’t felt in a long time shooting straight through you. “What do you want?” you asked bluntly, moving around him. The man in the blue robes was standing at the library, as if waiting for you. You laughed and left the room, your robes billowing behind you. Wong narrowed his eyes at you and flapped his arms at you, very clearly telling you to leave before you embarrassed him more. Music blared from it and you blinked slowly at him, recognizing the music vaguely. You strode into the library, letting the books drop onto Wong’s desk. His eyes stared at the books in your hands and you subtly shifted your fingers to where you were holding your middle finger up at him.Ī chuckle escaped his mouth as you strode by, having dealt with enough arrogant men to last a lifetime. Your eyes were drawn to the blue-wearing man striding by in quite obviously the same hurry as you. Power was one of the few things you could rely on, after all. So you chose purple, the color of royalty and power. Blue was advanced, but you felt it didn’t quite grasp the amount of time you spent practicing the arts. Red was for intermediate learners, which was unfortunate. You pushed open the door to the Hong Kong sanctum, striding past the learners in your purple clothes. The other belonged in the New York sanctum, where you refused to visit because of your animosity with the master there. The books were precious and there were only two copies in the world, one of which you were holding. He was going to transcribe some of the books you had at your sanctum. You worked in the halls of London, piling up the books Wong had asked to borrow.
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