Some mornings later...

There was a knock at the front door. Dealer glanced up from where she was Burning some platinum into her own Primal Ring.

Inheriting le Fey’s Elemental Attunement practically begged for Elemental Command to go along with it. Being a Clone and having overlapping magic items wasn’t all that intelligent, so she had been remanded the full Primus Ring to develop, while Dyna stuck with straight Air Elemental Command, which had the most diverse power-set of the main four types, and dovetailed with the other things she was doing.

Burning goldweight every day was an expensive hobby. It was a good thing they were making money.

She left off the process and glided down the stairs, wondering who might possibly be visiting. She accessed the reflective mirrors, touched with magic to reflect true appearances, and lifted her eyebrows at who she saw there.

She opened the door calmly, meeting the eyes of the young woman who had just raised her hand to use the knocker again. “Good morning!” Dealer greeted her professionally. “May I help you?”

“Oh!” The blue-eyed, platinum-haired woman in rather tight-fitting violet garb looked somewhat startled. “I am looking for Dr. Strange?” she asked hopefully.

Dealer smiled slightly. “Ah, you picked the obvious target. Take your ability to detect magic up to the next level and look across the road.” Dealer pointed over there in amusement.

The young-seeming woman blinked at her, and turned around. She glanced up and about for a moment, then obviously focused her eyes and concentrated, mystic light flaring up inside them.

She took a step back in sudden shock as abruptly the Wards of the Sanctum Sanctorum over there were suddenly visible to her, and the masking illusions rippled and were made clear.

“Oh, my apologies. Do you... know the Doctor?” she asked carefully.

“Of course. My boss is his number one thug!” The woman blinked in astonishment. “Who are you, and what are you here for? I might be able to help. I think the Doc is out-of-world right at this moment. Something about the Ghastly Caverns of Cavrus Ghak, or something.”

“Cavrus Ghakkle?” The woman’s elegant nose wrinkled. “I presume he has a very good reason for going to such a... noteworthy place.”

“I presumed it was a pretty bad reason. He came over to get some nose filters and goggles for the, um, fumes.” Dealer made a waving motion in front of her nose. “Also, a new box of extremely effective detergent for afterwards.”

“You are also his servant?” the woman asked brightly.

“No, but I help make some alchemical stuff for him and Master Wong at times.” Dealer tilted her head as she considered the woman, who looked young and ageless at the same time. “I’m the Dealer,” she introduced herself, clasping her hands before her in greeting.

“Ah, I am Clea, daughter of Umar the Unrelenting, born of the Dark Dimension! I have come here with the purpose of undertaking an apprenticeship under Dr. Strange!” was the polite, only slightly bombastically formal reply.

Dealer’s thundering lack of being impressed by her lineage was noted, too.

“Oh, that’s definitely a good idea, but I can tell you one hundred percent he’s not home right now, and I think Master Wong went out shopping.” Dealer looked her up and down once. “You have probably noticed your attire is a bit out of place here...”

“Yes, I had to resort to some minor illusions to deflect attention from myself,” Clea agreed, blushing a little bit. “I have not had much formal magical training...”

Dealer tapped her chin in consideration, then stepped aside invitingly. “Come on in. No reason not to get you started on acclimating to the local world, right? Let’s get you a proper change of clothes, and then we can pursue the default goals of every young woman with time and money, namely spending both!”

Clea lifted her own eyebrows in amusement, but stepped ahead, unafraid, and Dealer took a careful look around behind her before closing the door.

The resonance between the Wards she’d put up on this building and the Sanctum actually made both of them stronger, with a greatly increased ability to sense magical entities in the vicinity. There was nothing lingering around or trailing her, which was a good sign.

Dealer glided ahead towards the kitchen, saying she’d get some local drinks for Clea to sample, they could chat for a bit, and then get her a change of clothes for walking around.

------------

To say Clea was delighted to go shopping was not an exaggeration. Once dressed down to a more casual level that wouldn’t draw so much attention (aside for the fact that the two of them were both stunners who could turn heads, and Dealer didn’t remove her Mask), Dealer was happy to take her around to the local shops and eateries and let her experience some of the Greenwich Village lifestyle.

The level of technology was naturally far above her homeworld, which ran on magic and personal power, not on technology, and where most fires burned dimmer, hence the name of the Dark Dimension.

Naturally enough, the sheer variety of foods, clothes, and items to be discovered was quite overwhelming when compared to even the greatest city of her homeland. There was much to be said for the wonders of technology and science, after all.

And a sky that was blue with white floaties in it, rather than a psychedelic dream.

Dealer patiently answered endless questions, complete with holographic supplements, explaining about history and basic science, introducing Clea to the Human language she had at least a partial affiliation with, and tampering down her eagerness by simply making lists for Clea of things to do and see in the future. They strolled through the streets while Clea admired the architecture, locals used to seeing the Dealer around waved at her, and they chatted.

---

“This ‘tea’ is excellent, Dealer,” Clea said, sipping at it carefully. A Disk heaped with bags and boxes floated next to the table, carefully out of the way.

“Master Wong recommended the place. Very good, old recipe refined over many generations. It’s not alchemical, but excellent for mundane standards.” QL 22, actually, and worth her time. “Of the drinks of Terra, it is the one most shared among mystics, and there are many subtle variations of it. When you leave, I expect it is the one thing you will most want to bring with you.”

“I shall keep that in mind, although the cola is also very interesting... and bubbly!” she smiled.

Their simple beef-and-broccoli dish arrived, the elderly Chinese server silently teaching Clea how to use the chopsticks, which she grew adept with quickly enough, helped along by some minor TK. Soon enough she was indulging in the rice, greens, and beef, commenting happily on the sauce, and the two of them ate in companionable quiet.

“My journey here was long, and if not arduous, I had to be most careful at times,” Clea admitted. “It is good to have reached here. I had no idea the world of Dr. Strange was so prosperous!”

“Magically speaking, you could probably consider it a desert compared to your own world. But magic is a tool of the powerful, not of the weak. Science,” Dealer circled her sticks to encompass the world, “benefits the weak most at its foundational level. At its highest end, it is as mighty as any magic, of course, but science is about the many working to a greater goal, as opposed to one almighty hand doing it all.

“Every car that passes on the road outside is literally the result of millions of people working long days and hours, figuring out the methods, bringing the resources together, making something, and then endlessly improving it over and over and over again, then replicating what they have done so others can benefit. It is very much not like magic.”

“I see.” Clea looked out the window at the passing traffic, shaking her head. “To accomplish so much without magic...”

“The same could be accomplished with magic, of course. It’s just that getting a bunch of Casters together and doing stuff for the common good is like herding cats. Once the Casters get what they want personally, they often care little if everyone else remains a peasant.”

Clea blushed slightly. “Yes, well, that is often about control as much as everything. When one’s subjects start being comfortable, they start having ideas about needing rulers at all. Deprive them of luxuries, and any that you do allow them are treasured so that they work themselves to the bone to gain them.”

“That sounds like proper tyrannical orthodoxy. You have exposure to an experienced magocracy, I see.”

She flushed as she scooped up more rice, tapping it in the sauce, and brought it up to chew and swallow slowly. “The Dark Dimension is ruled by the Dread Dormammu. He... is my uncle.”

“Oh, him!” Dealer made a disparaging sound. “Another one of those bloody world-conquerors who think Terra is a convenient source of magic and souls.” Dealer tilted her head. “I don’t think he’s run into The Great Bear or the Hag yet, or you’d probably be looking for a different teacher.” Dealer smirked despite herself as she pushed her plate back.

“The Hag?” Clea sat upright.

“Sama Rantha, the Golden Hag?” Dealer clarified.

Clea’s eyes went wide. “The Golden Hag comes from Terra?!” she blurted out in a stage whisper.

“Well, yeah. Isn’t that, like, common knowledge?” Dealer had to ask archly.

“Well... no!” Clea hissed. “Do you know how many demon princes she has killed?”

“Enough to warn the weak off, get the ambitious to scheming, and attract the powerful who don’t know better?” Dealer theorized.