Epilogue

Bodies lined the floor. More than Jan had ever seen, and she could put a name to each one. Each face covered by its sheet: blue for the scholars, purple for the masters, red for the students, and one more, singular and golden, for her. The Ancient One.

Jan wasn't a part of the funeral process. She didn't know what was done to prepare their bodies. Whatever it was, they'd done a good job: there wasn't even a smell. Their faces were covered, and would only be revealed once more for any visiting family members. The cooks would be working overtime during the next week to provide for all the extra guests.

The Ancient One had no living family. Her ancestors—if any existed—would never know of her work. Even Jan, who'd been raised by her as much as Wong, wasn't allowed to see her face. For once, she envied the embalmers, for their last memory of her would be in here: Kamar-Taj, and not some steel-grey hospital.

Just four months ago they'd burned one. Today that number increased by fifteen.

Everyone knew that, technically, there were sixteen. But only fifteen would be given full burial rites. Found in a hall of the New York Sanctum, the only remaining body of Kaecilius' zealots was kept in the basement, wrapped in black.

Jan knew that Stephen had killed him. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't bring it up. Even she had never killed anyone.

Unlike her, he walked the halls of Kamar-Taj with a purpose: a point to prove. He'd saved Hong Kong and defeated Dormammu with his use of the time spell. Jan remembered how she'd felt, disorientated and disarranged, when Kaecilius had been dragged away by his master. That hadn't been natural, but then again, what part of this was?

There were serious talks of elevating Stephen to "Master Strange" after everything he'd done. Jan knew that he more than deserved the title. Plus, New York was in need of a new guardian. Kamar-Taj had lost enough Masters for one week.

Cleaning through the rubble at London had been rough. Most of the dead and wounded came from there, and although the guardian had survived, five young acolytes had not. They put up concealment charms around the Sanctum so that the bodies could be salvaged without questioning from regular paramedics.

Numerous relics had been destroyed in the explosion. All of that magic... just, wasted.

Rebuilding the physical structure of the Sanctum wouldn't take long—not with everything they were capable of. It was the magical foundation that worried the Masters. It had been damaged during Kaecilius' attack, and without the Ancient One's vast reserves of knowledge, it would be some time before the Sanctum would be back at its full strength. Until then, Earth's mystical defences would be weak.

What angered Jan most was Earth. Why. Earth.

Of all the planets in every solar system imaginable—and she knew there were others to choose from—why go after this particular one? What unlucky lot in the universal game of Life did Earth choose to have it screwed over so royally?

"A wise choice," Wong said after Stephen placed the Eye of Agamotto back on its restored pedestal. "You'll wear the Eye of Agamotto once you've mastered its powers. Until then, best not to walk the streets wearing an infinity stone."

"A what?" said Stephen.

Wong looked at him. The lore behind the infinity stones was in the beginner's guide to the mystic arts (chapter three). It was one of the fundamental principles upon which the universe was built.

He sighed. "You may have a gift for the mystic arts, but you still have much to learn." Wong looked up at the three-dimensional model of the Earth; at all its blinking lights; the symbols that represented the Sanctums. "Word of the Ancient One's death will spread through the multiverse. The Earth has no Sorcerer Supreme to defend it."

He looked to the Master's section, where Jan stood by one of the shelves, slowly flipping through a book. "We must be ready."

"We'll be ready," said Stephen.

Jan went to the garden, a leather backpack slung over one shoulder, and a packet of seeds tucked into her belt. She retrieved a watering can and a spade from the tool shed. Placing her backpack on the ground, she knelt at the foot of the apple tree.

The spade dug into the dirt with ease, only catching on a few small weeds. She dug several small holes, sprinkling an even amount of seeds in each one. When they were finally covered back up, she brushed the dirt from her hands and picked up the watering can.

"I hope you'll understand why I'm going," she said. "Before the funeral, and all... I mean, I already said goodbye and—and I can't do that again. Not in front of everyone." Wong and Stephen would have to do it on their own. They'd be all right: they had two dozen masters on their side.

Jan let her chin fall to her chest. "You- you confuse me very much."

She sighed. "I don't know if I should resent you for lying and keeping me here all this time, or if I should thank you for what I learned and for the protection you gave me... Maybe someday I'll figure out which."

Jan thought of the main courtyard, where they'd be setting up the pyres for the ceremony that night. Fifteen pyres.

"I understand what the questions meant—I know why you did what you did. I think." Jan hoped the Ancient One was more at peace than the drug dealer would be. "You used the power to help the people you cared about—to help the world. And you knew the consequences of that..."

She took a deep breath. "I'm leaving. Not sure where to—maybe Africa, for starters. I know it isn't what you wanted for me. You wanted to keep me safe, but- I am safe. I am. And you never trusted me with that. I'm going to take care of myself—and that's what you wanted, right?"

She sighed, trickling the watering can's remains over the freshly-planted seeds. "There's no way you're even listening..."

She unfolded a piece of paper from inside her pocket and put it under a rock at the base of the tree. Somehow, Jan knew the flowers would grow there—even if no one knew to care for them. She knew that the ceremony would have to start, regardless of her absence. She knew they would search her room for any sign as to where she'd gone, and she knew the note wouldn't be enough for Wong.

She had her weapon, and a book from the library. She had most of her worldly possessions stuffed inside this leather backpack. She also had her sling ring for any overseas travel. But for now, Jan tucked it away at the bottom of her bag.

If someone were to walk through the garden in a minute's time, they would find it empty save for a displaced watering can. They would continue on their way, as nothing was amiss in that moment.

She slipped out of Kamar-Taj into the busy streets of Kathmandu. Jan glanced back a couple of times, waiting to see if anyone called out her name—if anyone ran after her.

She smiled sadly, relived when no one did, then melted into a passing crowd.

A/N: So there it is: the epilogue. As for a sequel? That isn't on the table for the moment—I have other projects I'm working on, though I'm always thinking of how Jan could fit into the MCU in other ways.

It's difficult to say goodbye—especially when it's to a world you love writing in so much. But it's also important to note that farewells like this are almost always temporary. Although my next project(s) likely won't involve Jan—or the MCU—this story and the people who read it (AKA you, dear reader) will always be a source of support in my future writing endeavours.

So once more: thank you for taking the time to read this story. It really means a lot :)

BrySt1: THANK YOU, I'm happy you love it :)