Great! This chapter marks a turning point—not just in Mark's magical education, but also in his relationships. A deeper connection with **Wong** begins here, built not just on respect but shared pursuit of maste
The Kamar-Taj library was a cathedral of silence.
Dust hovered in golden shafts of light that spilled from high windows, cutting across rows of towering shelves. Scrolls whispered when touched. Books hummed with latent energy, some bound in materials that shimmered unnaturally.
Mark moved slowly through the aisles, his fingers brushing spines as if trying to read them by feel.
It was his first time here **not** seeking shelter, rest, or escape.
He was here now with purpose.
He approached the central desk, where **Wong** sat behind a thick tome, flipping pages with the precise grace of a monk and the deadpan intensity of a librarian who had once guarded this place against both theft and time itself.
"Looking for something in particular?" Wong asked without looking up.
Mark set a scroll down gently beside the desk. "Everything."
Wong's eyes finally lifted. "A broad request. Even more suspicious coming from someone who's spent a year studying *only* one spell."
Mark smirked. "So you noticed."
"Everyone noticed," Wong replied, deadpan. "There were debates about whether you were lazy, arrogant, or simply unteachable."
"And what did you vote for?"
Wong closed the book.
"I voted for 'unorthodox.' Which is often more dangerous than all three."
Mark leaned on the edge of the desk. "I wasn't being clever. I just… I wanted to understand it fully. Portals weren't a spell to me—they were a language. A lens to see how magic behaves. If I could master one, completely, then I could feel what control really is."
Wong raised an eyebrow. "Control?"
Mark nodded, thoughtful now. "Most people think magic is casting. But casting is just a result. *Channeling* is the real art. Most people rush into variety. I chose depth. I wanted to feel the raw current of energy and direct it like a needle, not a hammer."
Wong studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Then he stood.
"Follow me."
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**Library Annex – The Forbidden Section**
Wong led him through a corridor behind the library wall. It opened into a round annex lit by slow-turning lanterns. The air was heavier here. Older.
Here were books that glowed faintly even when closed. Shelves of sealed scrolls. One was chained shut.
Wong stopped before a table and spread out a selection of texts.
"These," he said, "are advanced manuals of energy theory. Most students aren't allowed to study them until they've completed six disciplines."
Mark blinked. "But—"
"But you already understand flow better than most masters," Wong interrupted. "You've mapped it through your body. Refined it through muscle. Contained it through will. So now, we begin refining your control into casting."
He tapped a parchment. "Start here: *Resonance Theory*. Then move to *Mental Anchoring* and *Runic Threading*. After that, we'll work on shaping energy into forms."
Mark stared at the pile, a strange awe settling over him.
"You're helping me train?"
Wong nodded slowly. "Because I've never seen anyone master portals without a Sling Ring."
He turned to go, but paused.
"One more thing," he said over his shoulder. "Next time Mordo picks a fight… use a spell."
Mark grinned. "I'm working on it."
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**Later That Night – Training Chamber**
By torchlight, Mark sat cross-legged on the stone floor. Scrolls opened around him, diagrams hovering in golden light.
Wong stood beside him, arms folded.
"Try the whip," Wong said. "Not with a gesture. Just with *intent.*"
Mark exhaled. He reached inward, to the pulse he'd sharpened through months of control. He didn't picture a spell—he pictured a **shape. A crack. A strike.**
A thin thread of light sparked from his hand. It flickered—then stabilized.
It formed into the first shape of an Eldritch Whip.
Wong gave a small nod.
Mark didn't say anything.
But inside, he knew:
His path had been slower. Stranger. Deeper.
But now, finally—
He was *becoming a sorcerer.*
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