Ztrange vs. Old Magic

The Sorcerer Supreme, floated through the domain of a known magician. He had don the title Old Magic. Claims had been made that this Old Magic, was a great Sorcerer. His control over the mystic arts was rivaled by no man. Warriors quake in fear at the sight of him, kings bow to him. This intrigued the Great wizard. Ztrange had mastered many skill sets and magic styles.. White Magic, Black Magic, Blood Magic, Necromancy, incantations, curses, and the most powerful of all Life and Death magic. But in this realm his most powerful abilities were lost to him, as well as his fame. This meant Ztrange had much to prove, and his journey began here. At the home of the most powerful Sorcerer in this realm. As Ztrange glided through the halls he could not help but feel the echo of the power with in this abode. The cracks in the marble floor, the tiny holes in the gold plated walls, all orifices released the power that the creators of this palace held. To his shock, Ztrange had met no resistance. It was as if something wanted him to challenge this Magician, without interferences. The forces that controlled this world believed Ztrange would need to be at full strength if he planned to succeed in defeating this gentleman. There will would not be denied and he would bend to there will whenever he needed to.

He wandered aimlessly through the mansion, he had no real idea where to search for his enemy but he relied on the Unknown to guide him to his target eventually. Ztrange's eyes fell on a very strange ornament in cased in glass. It sat on a silver mount and shined brighter with each step he took. He raised his right arm and the correlating side of his cape slid back. His hand became enveloped in a pinkish aura and at that the same moment the aura appeared on the item. With a flick of his wrist the item was directly in front of his face. Ztrange twirled the item around and examined it for magical properties. He could feel a dark power inside it, he decided he would like to conduct experimentation on the item so he shrunk it and stored it in a small storage dimension in his pocket. He walked towards a flight of stairs and something guided him up two flights of stairs and into a large room. The enormous amount of magic that was spewing from the large room was creating a mystical pressure, had Ztrange not been as well versed in the arts as he was, the force would have surely killed him. He spotted another being in the room, he wasn't sure if this power was emanating from the man himself or the area. He took two great strides and then spoke.“You must be Old Magic, if you are then I wish to challenge you for your title in Sorcery and if not may you guide me to what I seek?”          

The room felt heavy and warn, dust crept towards him like ants wanting to eat the flesh from his body. His eyes felt heavy, the Endless delirium herself seemed to take a likeness towards him. A crack formed in his face to reveal a smile. A gentle smile with no meaning in life, eyes slightly slanted. Eyes as round and black as the abyss seemed to suck in any light that made appearance within this room. Exhaling a large amount of smoke, he sat down behind the shadows near the wall, resting his back. The smoke rising up creating a perpetual motion that involved time in all it's glory. The whiff of smoke released from his nostril seemed to swirl and formed into many shapes before dissipating. It was heavy and dark yet his body was as light as the feather.