Chapter 306: The Exchange Student

Solomon spent a restless night in his powerless apartment. It was a tough adjustment, but with the company of Cheshire Cat and his homunculus, along with candlelight and books, he managed to make it through. By early morning, after washing up with cold water and putting on fresh clothes, he opened a portal back to Positano. Maya Hansen's vacation was nearly over—she was needed back in the Eternal City Library to organize the collection. Solomon had granted her full access to the library, ensuring that only she could open the magic books without triggering their protective enchantments and reducing them to ashes.

Meanwhile, Harold Finch required Shaw's assistance again. Two unrelated numbers had popped up simultaneously, and Reese couldn't handle both cases on his own. Shaw was visibly disappointed upon hearing the news—she had genuinely enjoyed her time under Solomon's employ. After all, it wasn't every day you got paid to drink fine wine while hanging out with fascinating individuals like the witches. With Solomon being the only man present, the women had hit it off splendidly.

When Solomon returned to the hotel room, he found Shaw sprawled across the couch, groaning with an ice pack on her forehead—a clear victim of last night's overindulgence.

"You need to sober up, Ms. Shaw," Solomon said, hauling her onto the balcony to let the crisp breeze dispel the stench of alcohol clinging to her. Maya Hansen lent a hand, as the witches had already left early that morning to investigate the ruins of Sun Island. The island was still a wasteland, though devout followers of the Lagna cult continued to live there. The witches needed to confirm whether the recent surge in angels had any connection to Sun Island before they could resume their lives.

Solomon handed Shaw a flask of alchemical concoction, its ingredients designed to bind temporarily to ethanol receptors in her body and alleviate her symptoms.

"How much did I drink?" Shaw groaned, clutching her head as the potion quickly took effect.

"I honestly have no idea," Solomon replied, glancing at the bottles scattered across the room. He decided it was best not to share the actual number. "Your job here is done, Ms. Shaw," he continued. "Finch needs you back. Take your payment, and I'll hire you again when I need your services. I trust Dr. Hansen wouldn't mind having you around as her bodyguard."

"Jobs like this? Keep them coming." Shaw wobbled to her feet, determination flashing in her eyes. "Next time, I swear I won't drink this much. Mark my words!"

"Hansen, please help Shaw pack her things. We're leaving now. Oh, and put up a 'Do Not Disturb' sign—I'll have the unseen servants clean this place. Move along, Shaw. Stop leaning on the wall; Jesus still needs you!" Solomon teased, referencing Shaw's knack for defying the odds, much like a certain messianic figure.

"Done with your errands?" the Ancient One asked, fanning herself as she addressed Solomon, who was seated further down the room. "When can we expect the network to be restored? Many of the apprentices are at their wits' end—they can't survive much longer without the internet."

"Soon, Master. Finch has already completed most of the work, and if Stark doesn't cause any more trouble, we'll have a working firewall ready by tomorrow," Solomon replied, glancing at the row of temple stewards seated beside him. "Once that's in place, we won't have to worry about spells being recorded anymore. But I'd still advise against using phones to photograph magical texts—privacy in the digital age is a tricky business."

"I say we don't need the internet at all," huffed Daniel, a white-bearded elder from the New York Sanctum. His gruff demeanor matched his bushy mustache, which seemed to bounce as he spoke. "I've already given my grandson a good thrashing for snapping a photo of a page from the Book of Vishanti and posting it online. Ancient One, I propose a total ban on phones and internet use within Kamar-Taj. Such things are too great a distraction for apprentices just beginning their magical studies."

"Agreed!"

"Young people these days just can't focus!"

A chorus of grumbles echoed from the elder stewards, all of whom seemed to share Daniel's sentiment. Mordo and Kaecilius, meanwhile, remained silent. They were inclined to disagree but lacked the authority to counter the elders, who were far older than them. Solomon glanced back at the Ancient One, whose face betrayed no emotion—but Solomon guessed she was internally debating whether to throw her teacup at the stubborn old-timers. Despite her millennia of experience, the Ancient One was far more progressive than these mere centenarians.

"It's not as dire as you think, stewards," Solomon interjected diplomatically. "The key is to enhance their training. After all, if they're ill-prepared, they're as good as dead on an extra-dimensional battlefield. I'm sure Mordo and Kaecilius would be happy to increase the apprentices' workload."

"Bah, youngsters are too easily tempted these days! Look at you—always glued to that phone!"

Solomon bowed his head, chastened. He hadn't expected the elders to redirect their ire toward him.

"Enough," the Ancient One said, setting down her fan. "A hundred years old, and yet you lot are less adaptable than I am. Solomon will handle this matter. You may all return to your sanctums. Mordo, Kaecilius—you two stay behind. Solomon, you as well. I have something to discuss with you."

"What's the matter, Master?" Solomon asked curiously once the room had cleared, leaving only the four of them amidst the lingering scent of incense. Mordo and Kaecilius exchanged puzzled glances—they had other tasks to attend to and were equally curious about the Ancient One's intentions.

"It's nothing too serious," the Ancient One began. "You're nearing the end of your high school education, Solomon. I've already arranged your summer plans. You'll be studying abroad—in Asgard's library."

"Asgard?" Solomon's eyebrows shot up.

"There are no schools in Asgard, as the Aesir and Vanir birth rates are too low to justify establishing one. Their children receive courtly education. As for the schools for ordinary Asgardians, they focus solely on trade skills—they'd be of no use to you. Instead, you'll be learning directly under Frigga's tutelage in magic. This has been arranged with Odin All-Father himself. Mordo, Kaecilius—which of you will escort him?"

"When are we leaving?" Solomon asked before either could respond. "I still have one semester and final exams left. Leaving now would render all my efforts pointless."

"Of course, you'll leave after your exams. Otherwise, your foster mother would be upset."

Mordo and Kaecilius exchanged a look. They knew nothing about Solomon's "foster mother," as the Ancient One had explicitly forbidden them from investigating her identity. Mordo suspected she was a powerful sorceress, while Kaecilius believed she might simply be a mundane woman working for Kamar-Taj's secular enterprises. Either way, they had followed the Ancient One's orders and refrained from digging deeper.

"I'll take him," Kaecilius offered. "Mordo can oversee the apprentices' training."

"Agreed, Master. This arrangement works best," Mordo concurred.

"Excellent," the Ancient One said with a nod. "As soon as Solomon finishes his A-Level exams, Kaecilius, you'll escort him to Asgard. Heimdall will open the Bifröst to transport you both. Solomon, remember: unless it pertains to Kamar-Taj's secrets, you are to follow Frigga's instructions without question. You may encounter things that seem incomprehensible, but don't worry—you'll understand in time."

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