"Ten rings?" Salomon frowned. "What are you talking about?"
The Sorcerer Supreme gave him a measured look. "You've at least heard the stories of King Solomon, haven't you?"
"…Some of them."
"That's enough."
She folded her hands lightly. "According to legend, Solomon commanded seventy-two demons. Some accounts even claim he built the First Temple with their help. Whether that's true or not isn't the point."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"The rings are."
"Those rings were considered proof of divine recognition. Symbols of a mind acknowledged by higher powers. With them, Solomon could command both angels and demons."
She paused.
"And in the end, he gave them up of his own will."
Salomon tilted his head.
"…Okay. And what does that have to do with me?"
The Sorcerer Supreme tapped his head lightly with a folding fan.
"Pay attention."
"Magic, at its root, is imitation," she continued. "You replicate a structure, a pattern, or a fragment of something—and through that, you borrow its properties."
She tapped him again, just a little harder this time.
"The simplest forms of magic are perception. Seeing. Hearing. Recognizing."
Then her tone shifted.
"The marks on your fingers… I called them stigmata because I didn't have a better word."
She studied his hands.
"But they're not the wounds of a martyr."
A beat.
"They resemble something else."
Salomon didn't interrupt this time.
"They resemble Solomon's rings."
Silence hung in the room.
"I don't fully understand them," she admitted. "But based on the principles of imitation… you should inherit part of what they represent."
Her eyes met his.
"Authority. Command. Control."
Salomon stared at her.
"…So you weren't even sure I could handle that ring?"
There was a very clear accusation in his voice.
"I'm not saying I wouldn't have tried," he added, "but a warning would've been nice."
"Shh, shh." She waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing went wrong, did it? No harm done."
Salomon did not look convinced.
She didn't elaborate.
Instead, she shifted the topic.
"The other two rings," she said, "aren't here."
That got his attention.
"Where?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
"Not yet."
"…Why?"
The Sorcerer Supreme leaned back slightly.
"Because Kamar-Taj isn't the only magical presence on Earth."
Her tone turned serious.
"And we're not the only ones drawing power from something else."
She continued calmly.
"Not all magic comes from the Vishanti. Some comes from Chthon's chaos magic. Some from Dormammu and the Dark Dimension. Some from… less predictable sources."
A brief pause.
"Demons. Devils. Things older than either."
Salomon nodded slowly.
That part made sense.
"Our job," she went on, "is to keep those forces in check. To deal with practitioners who tap into them recklessly."
"…Got it."
Then—
"If that's the case, can you explain where beings like Chthon or Dormammu actually come from?"
The Sorcerer Supreme studied him for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Fair question."
"This isn't something I usually teach early," she said. "Names have weight. Knowing them can draw attention."
Her voice dropped slightly.
"But we're alone."
Salomon straightened.
"I swear I won't repeat it."
She gave a small nod.
"Good."
"Chthon," she began, "was one of the earliest forms of life on Earth. Born from the planet's own life force."
Her gaze drifted, as if looking through time itself.
"He's known as the God of Chaos Magic. One of the so-called Elder Gods."
"There were others. Gaia. Set."
"Billions of years ago, these beings turned on each other. Consumed one another. Some became something closer to demons."
"Chthon was among them."
Salomon didn't speak.
"To stop it," she continued, "Gaia and the God of Life created Atum."
Her tone sharpened slightly.
"Atum hunted the corrupted Elder Gods. Destroyed them."
A pause.
"Then became something worse."
"A devourer."
Salomon blinked.
"…That escalated."
"Chthon and Set fled," she said. "Escaped into other dimensions to survive."
"As for Atum…"
She shrugged slightly.
"Some say he became the sun."
"…That sounds like a rumor."
"It probably is."
"The power Atum left behind eventually gave rise to a new generation of gods," she continued. "The Norse pantheon. Others across the world."
"Odin," she said, "built his realm. Created the World Tree. Divided reality into realms."
"Other pantheons formed elsewhere. Different cultures. Different interpretations."
Salomon nodded slowly.
So far—
Messy, but consistent.
"And Gaia?" he asked.
"She had more children," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "Through them came figures like Zeus. The Greek pantheon you've read about."
Salomon rubbed his temple.
"…This world is crowded."
"That's one way to put it."
She took a sip of tea Salomon had quietly prepared and kept warm with magic.
She gave him a small approving nod.
Then continued.
"Eventually, something else arrived."
"The Celestials."
"They clashed with these newer gods. What exactly happened is unclear, but by the time human civilization began…"
She spread her hands slightly.
"Most of them were gone."
The room fell quiet for a moment.
Then she shifted topics again.
"The Vishanti."
Salomon straightened slightly.
Now this mattered.
"Agamotto," she said, "was the first Sorcerer Supreme. He specialized in foresight and truth. Many of our artifacts trace back to him."
"The Eye of Agamotto. The amulet. The crystal."
"Hoggoth," she continued, "is… harder to define."
Her lips curved faintly.
"You've already seen one of his preferred forms."
"…The giant tiger."
She nodded.
"He rarely appears in a way humans can fully understand. That form is… a compromise."
"He's also responsible for several spells—sleep, memory manipulation, pathways through dream realms."
"And the last—Oshtur."
Her tone softened slightly.
"She's tied to life. Wisdom. Reason."
"The origin of what we call white magic."
"She gave birth to Agamotto," Salomon said.
"…Technically."
A pause.
"She doesn't have a fixed gender."
Salomon blinked.
"…Right."
The Sorcerer Supreme leaned in slightly.
Her voice dropped to something closer to a whisper.
"Want to hear something unofficial?"
Salomon immediately nodded.
"Hoggoth may have been the last of an ancient species," she said. "Older than most recorded history."
"He met Oshtur while she was traveling between realities."
"He taught her."
Salomon narrowed his eyes.
"…Go on."
"They traveled together."
A beat.
"And there's a theory…"
She smiled faintly.
"…that he might be Agamotto's father."
Silence.
Salomon stared.
"…That's… complicated."
"Don't repeat it."
"I won't."
He paused.
Then—
"…How does any of this relate to the rings?"
The Sorcerer Supreme leaned back again.
"Because one of them is in London."
Salomon blinked.
"…That's it?"
"In the British Museum."
"…Of course it is."
She continued calmly.
"The British Empire collected artifacts from all over the world. Many of them… aren't just artifacts."
"They're tied to old pantheons. Old powers."
"Even if the gods are gone," she said, "their influence lingers."
Salomon's expression shifted.
"So if I go after one of those rings…"
"You'll have to deal with whatever's guarding it."
"…Right."
"For now," she said, her tone firm again, "you're not ready."
"Focus on your training. Learn everything you can."
Then she added, very deliberately—
"And when you find the other two rings…"
She held his gaze.
"Do not put them on one at a time."
"…Noted."
"Find both."
A pause.
"Then wear them together."
Salomon nodded slowly.
"That's when," she said, "you'll truly take control of the Vishanti's power."