Magik, The Sorceress Supreme

                                    

                                              
             
                          
The warm rays baked into Illyana Rasputin's pale skin as she languished on the reclining day bed. Sunglasses protected her eyes, but only a two-piece did as much for her body. She was long overdue for some very much required relaxation. That's why she was far less than amused when she sensed the presence of the middle-aged man with graying hair at his temples.
                          
"You do realize how creepy it is to sneak up on a girl whose half your age while she's sunbathing, right?" Illyana asked.

                          
"I'm not one to skulk." Doctor Strange responded. And as he looked up half or so dozen miniature suns floating in the air, in the otherwise dark room, he sighed. "And I don't think the intended purpose of the Suns of Solaran is merely... 'suntanning.'"
                          
"I'm starting to think that your intended purpose is pretty much just grating my nerves."
                          
Shutting his eyes for a moment, Strange clasped his hands before his face like he was praying and took a slow deep breath in and out through his nose before opening them again. "Illyana, not to sound like an overbearing parent, but I think there are far more constructive things you could be doing right now."
                          
"I'm reading" she said. Strange started slightly at the flutter of a book page turning to his right. It was floating there in the air, and hovering just above it, lenses gazing down at the ancient arcane texts, was the fully opened Eye of Agamotto.
                          
"I see..." he said, rubbing his chin. There was a slight frustration there, as he gazed at it in mild surprise for a moment. The eye was as it has always been- smoothed, polished and some color that wasn't quite gold or quite bronze. "I used to love reading."
                          
"We are in a library, you know."
                          
"It's the understanding I lack. The pages of the Vishanti, and many magical texts require an arcane familiarity that, as you know, I no longer possess." He somehow managed not to sound like a whimpering puppy as he said the words.
                          
The Eye of Agamotto angled up to peer at him. Illyana was only now noticing how truly plain the man looked as of late. Thin, still muscular, but thin from the passing of many years, or perhaps the stress that came with them. Without his cape and robes, or any other magical affects, he looked like a simple man. The word "muggle" came to mind and a grin pulled at the edges of her lips. She took care not to let him see.
                          
Doctor Strange was just that- a doctor, and nothing more. No master of the mystic arts. No Sorcerer Supreme. In fact, the latter title was precisely why he was here to scold her, she was sure. "Well, try not to cry about it."
                          
"Illyana, the title of Sorceress Supreme is not one to be taken lightly. When I gave you the banner, my magical relics, my home, it wasn't a solely a gesture of kindness. I want to be sure that you are able to fulfill the duties of the role."
                          
"I am."
                          
"As of late? I'm not so sure..."
                          
I low guttural noise sounded, like bestial creaking and Doctor Strange put his hands up, in caution. "It's okay, Lockheed." Illyana said. "He's just being an annoyingly concerned caretaker, like Batman's guy from the comics." Lockheed, Illyana's purple miniature dragon, sat on the top of one of the tall book shelves, whipping his tail back and forth like a cat.
                          
Strange tilted his head. "Did you just compare me to Alfred?"
                          
"I'm the Sorceress Supreme and you're the 'no powers having guy' that looks after me, right?"
                          
"I'm not Alfred. Alfred is way older than me."
                          
"Fine, then. You're my Wong."
                          
Wong was Strange's old caretaker. He looked like he wanted to object, seemed to consider the futility of it, and then changed course. "Listen, I understand if you're trying to slow down with your use of magic. I know the toll it can take, especially considering the source of your powers."