The night at Kamar-Taj was very quiet.
In the distance, the snowy peaks of the Himalayas shimmered with silver light under the moonlight, and the wind blowing down from the mountains carried the chill of ice and snow and the fragrance of pine resin.
Mavuika stood in the courtyard, looking at the snowy mountains, and took a deep breath.
Then he turned around and looked at Loki, Wanda, and Pietro.
"Let's go," he said, "home."
Loki nodded. Wanda and Pietro nodded as well.
The Ancient One stood at the doorway, watching their backs with a faint smile on her lips.
Mordo walked to her side. "Master, they have left."
The Ancient One nodded. "Yes."
Mordo hesitated for a moment. "Master, does Dormammu really not dare to come again?"
The Ancient One looked at the night sky and remained silent for a while.
"At least a thousand years," she said. "After a thousand years—we'll see then."
She turned and walked into the sanctum.
Behind her, the moonlight flowed quietly like Water.
The night in Hong Kong was still long.
But the darkness had already receded.
Mavuika led Loki, Wanda, and Pietro through the Portal and returned to New York.
The night sky of Manhattan was dyed with colorful neon lights, the roar of traffic could be heard from afar, the coffee shop was still lit, and a few pedestrians returning home were waiting for the red light at the street corner.
Everything was the same as when they left.
But Mavuika knew that everything had changed.
He stood at the door of the apartment, took out the key, and opened the door.
Inside, it was still that warm little space. The sofa, the coffee table, the bookshelf, and the flowers on the balcony. Everything was the same as it had been three days ago.
Wanda and Pietro walked in, changed their shoes, and went into the kitchen. Pietro opened the refrigerator and took out a few bottles of Water. Wanda took one, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.
Loki walked onto the balcony, sat in that chair, held a teacup, and watched the night view of Manhattan.
Mavuika walked into the kitchen, opened the cupboard, and took out a bag of tea leaves.
He boiled Water, made tea, and poured himself a cup.
Then he walked to the balcony and stood beside Loki.
"Big sister," Loki began, "did you use your full strength today?"
Mavuika thought for a moment. "I did. But I haven't reached my limit yet."
Loki turned his head to look at him. "Not reached your limit yet?"
Mavuika took a sip of tea. "Dormammu wasn't enough of a challenge. If he were a bit stronger, perhaps I could have forced out my limit."
Loki was silent for a moment, then laughed softly. "Big sister, you really are a monster."
Mavuika also laughed. "Thanks for the compliment."
The two stood on the balcony, drinking tea and watching the night view.
In the distance, the lights of Manhattan were still brilliant. This city, this World, did not know what had happened tonight. It did not know that an existence had once tried to devour it, nor did it know that a goddess had protected it with her flames.
But perhaps, it didn't need to know.
Mavuika put down the teacup and turned to walk into the house.
"Wanda, Pietro, what do you want to eat for breakfast tomorrow?"
Pietro thought for a moment. "Fried eggs. Add some more pepper."
Wanda said: "Porridge. White porridge."
Mavuika nodded. "Okay. White porridge with fried eggs."
He walked into the kitchen and began to prepare the ingredients for tomorrow.
Behind him, Loki held the teacup with a faint smile on his lips.
The night in Manhattan was still long.
But the sky would brighten soon.
...
That night after returning from the Dark Dimension, the courtyard of Kamar-Taj was exceptionally quiet.
The moonlight was like Water, spilling onto the ancient stone slabs, illuminating the vigorous pine tree and the outline of the distant snowy mountains.
The wind blew down from the Himalayas, carrying the chill of ice and snow and the fragrance of pine resin.
A few young mages stood under the corridor, curiously watching those who walked out of the Portal, and no one dared to step forward to ask.
Mavuika walked in the front, his golden-red long hair fluttering gently in the night wind.
His clothes had a few scorched marks, and the sleeve of his right arm was torn, revealing the wound underneath that was still slowly healing.
But his steps were steady, his back was straight, as if nothing had happened.
Loki followed behind him, hands in his pockets, with a calm expression.
Wanda and Pietro walked at the very back, the two of them leaning very close, Pietro's hand resting gently on Wanda's arm.
The Ancient One walked in the front, her yellow robes glowing with a faint luster under the moonlight.
She walked into the tea room, sat by the table, poured herself a cup of tea that had already gone cold, and drank it in one gulp. Then she looked up at everyone at the door.
"Come in and sit. It's late tonight; we'll talk about anything tomorrow."
That night, the guest rooms of Kamar-Taj were full for the first time.
Mavuika stayed in the room he often stayed in when he came to Kamar-Taj, the side room on the east side, with the window facing the snowy mountains.
He pushed open the window, and the cold wind blew in, carrying the crispness of snow. He took a deep breath, feeling the turbid air in his lungs being washed away.
He looked down at his right arm; the wound there had scabbed over, and the black lines had almost completely disappeared.
The Ancient One's magic was more effective than he had expected, and the speed of expelling the dark energy was fast. His ribs still ached faintly, but it no longer affected his movement.
"Two broken," he muttered to himself, "not bad."
He drew the curtains, lay down on that hard wooden bed, and closed his eyes.
In the darkness, he could still see the light in Dormammu's last eye, fear, anger, unwillingness...
Mavuika's lips curled slightly.
He hadn't fought this enjoyably for a long time.
In the next room, Loki sat on the windowsill, holding a cup of tea in his hand. His gaze landed on the courtyard, watching the moonlight move across the stone slabs, watching the shadow of the pine tree move from the west to the east.
His fingers traced gently in the air, leaving a green magic light trail.
"Interesting," he said softly.
Unlike the magic of Asgard, the magic of Kamar-Taj focused more on the understanding of space and dimensions, rather than simple energy output.
The things the Ancient One taught him opened up directions he had never thought of before.
Loki crushed the green light trail, turning it into specks of fluorescence that dissipated.
Perhaps he could stay at Kamar-Taj for a few more days.
In the room next door, Wanda and Pietro lived together, not because they didn't have separate rooms, but because they were used to being close to each other.
Pietro slept on the floor, covered with a thin blanket, his breathing steady, while Wanda lay on the bed, eyes open, looking at the ceiling.
She was recalling what the Ancient One had said to her.
"Your Chaos Magic is not a curse, but a gift; it's just that the person who gave you the gift did not know how to package it."
The methods the Ancient One taught her, guiding the energy instead of controlling it, feeling the flow of power instead of forcing it to obey.
Made her feel for the first time that the dark red power was no longer a Beast that could break free at any time, but a fiery horse that could be tamed.