Chapter Text
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He was young. Too young to understand the feeling that had settled into his chest. Too young to understand that everything was about to change.
His little sister had just turned four. She was sick a lot and while he didn't understand why, he understood that she shouldn't be. He was worried. As much as a six year old could be worried at least.
Their parents told them that they would have a visitor. That wasn't anything new, they often had visitors. Uncles, aunts, cousins, sometimes doctors; so he approached the day just like any other. Besides, he was going to enter school soon, and that was way more exciting than one of their parents' mystery visitors.
He tried to protest when his mother called him to come to the living room, but she told him it was important and that he had to behave, so he went, only complaining a little.
Something was different. They were all in the living room, him, his sister, their parents, even their grandparents were there. All waiting for something. He didn't like it. The sun was shining through the windows, he wanted to go outside and play, not sit here and be bored. His sister was deeply absorbed in a game with her plushies.
He was bored. Why did adult stuff always have to be so boring?
But then something shifted.
He looked toward the sliding door before it even opened.
A woman entered. The yellow of her robes was like nothing he had ever seen in his short life. Her feet didn't make sounds on the floor as she walked. She talked with a quiet voice that still somehow managed to carry through the room, but he didn't understand her words.
Their grandparents left after a short greeting, their father bowed, their mother bowed even deeper. He instinctively knew that this woman, whoever she was, must be very important.
He just quietly stared as the woman turned to them and slowly approached them, his sister abandoning her imagined game to focus on her as well. Their parents remained at the other end of the room, quietly observing.
The woman was a perfect stranger, and yet, she felt so familiar.
She sat down in front of them and asked questions. A great number of questions, which he wasn't able to fully understand, and not able to remember later. Still, they both answered, and the woman seemed satisfied with their answers, no matter whether they made sense or not.
Despite the strangeness of the situation, he felt calm and at ease. The woman was funny even, playing with the both of them while she watched their every move and listened intently to their every word.
"You are not here for me," his sister had said at some point. Back then, he didn't understand what she meant with that.
Instead he remembered the woman's surprise when his little sister continued to tell her that her nice shiny amulet would break soon and she had to be careful not to cut her finger. How the woman had pulled a small coin like object from her robes and inspected it, her eyes flashing green for a moment.
By the time the woman looked up again to ask another question, his sister had yawned and cuddled up to his side, her eyes slowly closing as she fell asleep.
After a moment the woman asked him if this happened often, his sister falling asleep after talking about tomorrow, and he had nodded, simply holding on to his little sister as she slept peacefully. He didn't pull away when the woman reached out to his sister's forehead, mumbling some unfamiliar words. Instead he watched with great fascination as a while glow emitted from his sister's little body, like an almost translucent veil, slowly dancing around her as she slept.
He heard his mother gasp quietly from the other end of the room. When he looked up, the woman's eyes were on him.
"Can you see that?" She had asked.
He only found it in himself to nod.
There was another flash of green in her eyes, longer this time. She seemed to look at him, but at the same time right through him, so he just stared right back. When she blinked after a few minutes and almost doubled over, he instinctively reached out to her, which for some reason made her smile.
He watched as the woman gently brushed an escaped strand of hair from his sister's face and tucked it back behind her ear.
"While it would be desirable to protect your abilities within Kamar-Taj, we both now it is your brother who will be needed," the woman had whispered.
The next moment she was standing and quietly talking to their parents again.
He didn't understand it back then. The feeling in his chest. The significance of this moment for the rest of his life. But he looked at his little sister and he knew that he would do anything in his power to ensure that she would always be able to sleep as peacefully as this.
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He was almost seven years old.
School was new and exciting, and his father and grandfather begun to teach him martial arts. It was lots of fun and a new outlet for all his endless energy, he absorbed every move they showed him like a sponge. He advanced quickly, and eventually his only limitation to fight even older students was him still being too small. He'd get there though. Soon.
His mother tried to teach him about awareness, but he wasn't much good at it. Sitting still just wasn't his thing when there was so much to do, so much to learn. His mother laughed and told him he would grow into it. He doubted it, but didn't say anything as she dismissed him to go run around outside and play. His little sister was way better at this anyways.
He was twelve years old and didn't understand why the other students at middle school were laughing when he told them his mother is a sorceress.
It's the truth; after all he was raised better than to lie.
His mother sat him down that night. Showed him the little things of magic he had seen her do so often, to heat a cup of tea, or pick something up from the floor without having to bend down.
She had said that only few people knew about magic and even fewer had actually seen it.
He asked if magic was a secret.
She answered that it depended on who you asked.
It was then that he learned that he didn't like riddles. They needlessly complicated things.
Before he could make his dissatisfaction known however, his mother asked him if he remembered the woman from all those years ago.
He did. There was no way he could ever forget that day.
His mother told him that the woman had said he was born with his third eye wide open.
He didn't understand what that meant. She asked if he wanted to learn.
The answer was yes, because of course it was. The martial arts handed down on his father's side of the family were fun, but he hadn't seen anything even remotely as cool as his mother's magic.
She nodded and told him to pay closer attention to his meditation practice.
It wasn't long after that his mother first took him along to Kamar-Taj.
Everything was huge and different and impressive.
So many different people, speaking what he now knew were many different languages.
They met the woman in yellow for a short moment, she commented on how much he had grown. She herself looked just the same. He still was too young to be aware that adults were supposed to age too with the years.
They passed a group of young people training. He said that he could probably fight them and win. His mother laughed, but didn't allow him to prove his claim. He was disappointed, but forgot all about it by the time they entered the library.
Books and books and books and even more books, he had never seen so many in one place! The young librarian couldn't save himself from the many many questions he was bombarded with, but took it with great humour. By the time they left he was in proud possession of a well-read book in a language he didn't understand. The librarian told him to take his time learning and return it whenever he had finished it.
He made his parents sign him up for language classes the moment they returned home. His sister joined him in an English class for middle school students, but none of the adults understood why a little kid with no connection to India would want to learn Sanskrit and even less why a little kid would want to learn Latin of all dead languages. They thought he'd quit after a couple lessons, but he didn't, instead leaving them all the more impressed with his progress as he stubbornly carried on. They didn't understand that he had a book sitting on his desk at home. They didn't understand just how determined he was to read it without any outside help.
Every year on his birthday his mother asked him if he was still certain about learning magic. Every year, he said yes.
He was fourteen by the next time he was allowed to come along to Kamar-Taj.
He had read the book front to back so often, he could almost recite it in his sleep. It was the introduction to multidimensional energies. Explaining what they were, how they worked. How a person could cultivate the ability to channel these energies into their body. About the limits of this magic potential, about its growth.
He still was no good at meditating, but he tried even harder now.
The librarian was impressed and complied when he demanded more.
He barely took notice of his mother speaking to the woman, already brooding over his new book. It was even more difficult, but that wouldn't stop him for long.
They ate in the communal kitchen. Grandma's cooking was better.
He was sixteen when he finally was allowed to challenge the novices at Kamar-Taj to a fight.
He was winning by his sheer martial ability alone. At least until they started to incorporate magic into their attacks.
It frustrated him to no end. Because he knew what they were doing, he could literally see it happening. But he couldn't do it himself.
His mother re-iterated how he had to be older before he was allowed to fully awaken his magic. How it was too dangerous.
He told her that it was ridiculous. That he was sixteen; he knew what he was doing. How he had been preparing for literal years now. She was steadfast.
His sister was fifteen when their mother died.
They didn't understand. One morning she left the house and never returned.
They were paralyzed.
Hearing the explanation of what had happened didn't help.
It was his seventeenth birthday and it was his sister asking him if he was still certain about learning magic. Now that they knew how high the price could be.
It took him a whole week to answer.
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"Are you sure?" She asked the seventh time today.
She had been following him around the big house as he collected the few things that were his. He had never owned much, didn't need or want to. All his life had been leading to today, to this.
"I am, and I still will be the next time you ask," he picked up a book and turned back toward his room.
"But are you sure?"
"Li." The use of her name coupled with a look that read "enough" stopped his sister in her tracks.
"It's not that you're leaving, I knew that would happen, but--" she searched for words for a moment, aimlessly gesturing in the air, "Your name! You are giving up your name, I don't-- Why? Just tell my why?"
"Its tradition," he answered simply.
"A tradition that hasn't been upheld in three generations!"
"Because the last three chosen sorcerers of our line were female, and never established a traditional name."
"But that doesn't mean you have to--"
"I want to," he interrupted her. "It's not about me, it's--" a single look into his sister's face made him give up. How could he possibly explain this decision, when he had only made it a couple days ago himself?
They continued walking the rest of the way to his room in tense silence. His things were pretty much packed by now, Li had commented before how sad it was that all his stuff fit into two suitcases. He'd just been glad. It saved him from having to do multiple trips. He carefully set the book into the last free space and closed up the suitcase before picking them up, Li following along as he took them to the front door.
"Come along," he said after setting the suitcases down and stepped outside.
"Where are you going?" Li called after him as she quickly put on her shoes.
"I want to visit the ancestral hall before I go."
It was a bit of a walk, their home being located on the outskirts of their little village and the clan's ancestral hall on the opposite end, but it was nice and warm, even with the sun slowly sinking toward the horizon.
The village was quiet, they only came across one of their aunts who once again went through her speech of how proud she was and how he should take care and be safe. He didn't have the heart to tell her how becoming a sorcerer was not safe at all, but she was still working through the loss of her sister over a year ago, so he just smiled and thanked her and told her they had to be on their way.
Thankfully, the ancestral hall was empty. The village had held their little goodbye celebration for him a few days ago, and while he wished they hadn't bothered at all, he had been glad about it.
They approached the altar, both of them going through the familiar motions of offering some incense to their ancestors. The wall behind the altar was covered in small wooden spirit tablets, each inscribed with the name of a passed clan member. Their mother's was the last in the long line.
"Did you ever count them?" He asked. It was a rhetorical question, because of course they both had. It was just a small village, but it was their ancestral home, many spirit tablets had been brought here even after their clan had been scattered further and further over the last few generations.
It was easy to make out the sorcerers that were honoured here between all the other clan members. Their tablets were just the same in shape and size, but around their names a tao mandala had been carved into the wood. There were a lot of them. Every generation had at least one sorcerer, in some cases two or even three. But even without the tao mandalas declaring their status, it was easy to pick out at least the male sorcerers between them all. While all the clan members' names consisted of three or four characters, the male sorcerers' names traditionally only had one: 王.
The name he would claim for himself the moment he left.
"Giving up my name, its proof of my dedication to the mystic arts, while also honouring the ones who came before me," he tried once more to explain, "but I'm also doing it for you. Knowing my birth name gives people power. It gives them a connection to follow that could eventually lead them back here, putting the entire village at risk. I won't let them hurt you in order to hurt me. I can't."
There was a moment of silence. Li understood his reasoning, he knew she did, she was incredibly smart. "But it's the name our parents gave you..." But she was also sentimental like that.
"It won't be forgotten, you know. You remember, everyone in the family remembers. I remember. When eventually I die and my name is put up here, it'll be there. Just engraved on the other side. The one you can't see."
"I won't be able to call you by your name anymore..."
Sadly, he could also understand her sentiment. He had to do something to loosen the tension floating around them, or else they'd never get past this. "Admit it; you just don't like the name."
Thankfully Li immediately jumped for the bait. "Oh I hate it, it's terrible!"
"Say that right in front of all our ancestors who carried it, will you!"
"I'm not saying it's terrible for them, I'm certain it fit them exceptionally well, but for you? No, nu-uh, it doesn't suit you at all."
"You'll get used to it," he tried to respond as flatly as possible, but he couldn't help the chuckle. He'd have to endure the teasing for the rest of the evening, but he'd gladly take it over his little sister sulking on his last day at home.
"More like you will get used to it!"
They made their way back through the village bantering back and forth like that; Li only stopping him short before they entered their home again.
"Promise you visit," she all but demanded.
"As soon as I have my own Sling Ring I can visit whenever I want and I will. I promise."
Li nodded. Her brother's word was his bond, more so than any other person she had ever met. He wouldn't break it, no matter what.
It was a nice evening. His grandmother had pulled out all the stops and cooked a feast with pretty much everything he had ever mentioned he loved. When he had offered to help, she had all but kicked him out of the kitchen, so instead he had a nice chat with his grandfather about the most inconsequential things.
Dinner was happy sad. It was his birthday after all, so celebration was in order, but they were all sad to see him go. Especially his father. He tried to hide it and it might even have worked on outsiders, but among family? It didn't work at all.
The sun was long gone by the time he finally made it out of the front door, fending off yet another hug attack from his sister. He bowed in respect to his grandparents and father, and turned to leave without another word. He'd see them again soon enough.
Walking up the hill by himself in the dark gave him a little time to breathe. There was this feeling in his chest, this special brand of tightness he had experienced just a few times in his life so far. He chalked it up to his nervousness and excitement.
He knew why the Ancient One had chosen the top of the hill as their rendezvous the moment she had set it. He could see his entire village from up here. His home, the ancestral hall, the little bakery. He could name every person living in the handful of houses down there. This is where he had spent his life. Sure, he had taken the bus to go over to the next city for school every day, but this is where he had grown up and he barely had ever left.
Squinting his eyes until everything swam out of focus a little, he could make out the slow flow of magic surrounding his village. His mother's domain. It had been fading ever since the day of her death, but the Ancient One had assured him that the domain was so old, upheld and cared for by so many generations of sorcerers, that it would still be here centuries from now.
He turned away from it all and made the rest of the way up the hill.
"I am sorry to have kept you waiting." He bowed the moment the Ancient One came into sight. He wasn't sure if she had been waiting at all, she had this unsettling penchant for timing, but a sincere apology never hurt.
She was standing on top of the hill, completely silent, even as she turned to greet him. She held a folding fan in her hands, idly turning it around and around as she looked at him and then through him in the way she did.
"You have chosen your path forward," she observed.
"Yes," he uselessly confirmed. "I have also chosen to claim the traditional name as my ancestors did."
"Very well." She smiled, a simple spin of her hand opening a portal to their side.
He stepped toward it and through without a sliver of hesitation. Leaving one life behind, beginning a new one.
The Ancient One followed closely behind him. "Welcome to Kamar-Taj, Wong."
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