Chapter 1: The First Encounter

"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."

H.P. Lovecraft

The town of Genevra a mile behind, Tony Stark continued onwards, parallel to the edge of the gully as he broke through the treelines, eyes sharp and on the lookout. At his feet was a good 20 feet drop down into the steep gorge, where a body of fresh spring cracked from the face of the rock. It formed a gentle stream that ran through the narrow path as the opening several yards further eroded into a gaping valley that spanned miles forward towards the canyons beyond.

When he was a little boy, the river churned violently, the current stronger and the water level at greater heights. During the wet season he would not dare come close to the body of water deep in the valley. But two decades later, the river had rapidly dried up, especially in the current dry season where the sun was a scorching blaze in the sky and the mudbanks flanking the river were bone-dry. Facing westwards, Tony sucked in a deep breath, taking in the temporary serenity and peace carried by the comforting breeze despite the humidity. It was beautiful.

But dangerous all the same.

With his back against the steep gully, Tony swung his satchel around his back and retrieved his notes and handwritten location markings. He had not gotten the chance to check his traps after the scuffle at the border almost three days ago and finally deemed it safe to travel around the woodland on the outskirts of the town in solitary. With all the noise in the forest this would probably be a vain attempt but in the event of a success, Tony had rather not let the animal die of dehydration before he got to it.

This year, the dry season was especially unmerciful and last Tony had heard from the farmers the harvest was not doing well. Similarly, the wranglers had reported that livestock was dwindling. It was not terribly drastic that Genevra had to start rationing but it was bad enough for the people to feel the pinch.

As one of the best weapons blacksmith in town, though it not being his area of expertise, Tony felt obligated to pull his own weight around: there were only so much weapons one could forge and only so much battle armour one could upgrade. Thus, to assist the hunters and their wolfhounds, Tony had created a new set of experimental beast traps and scattered them around the edge of the forest.

Past experience had taught them that they needed the prey alive in the trap rather than dead when found - The last time they had used the basic steel-clamp snare, the hares had ripped itself apart in its vain struggle to escape. Stags and wild boars easily broke through the brittle metal. Honestly Tony had not realised how absolutely useless the previous traps were. He was going to have words with his people later about effectiveness and efficiency.

Contrary to popular belief and despite his profession, Tony really did not take delight in a slow and inhumane death for any living thing. No one deserved to slowly and painfully bleed out in the worst way possible. There really was nothing humane about trapping, food was food after all, but at least he could give them a quick and swift controlled end without any mangling.

Using a new method of pressure plates, a net and a complicated spring mechanic structure, the creation came to life. When the plate was struck, the pressure would release the heavy nylon netting under the trigger. As if the earth was going to swallow the prey, the contraption would rise from the ground below and consume the animal, pinning it down with the sheer size and weight of the net. Just like a dragonfly caught in a spider's web. Tony decided to strengthen the nylon with chainmail just so the animal would not be able to struggle out. (Not that it probably would, the net alone was already about a hundred pounds. Some might call it overkill but hey it was just his first draft and he was a perfectionist. There would always be room for improvement later.)

Frankly, it saved so much time and effort for retrieval. All they had to do to secure the animal was wrangle the four iron-reinforced ends together before hauling the fresh meat back to town.

Tony had thought of bringing Peter along, after all his apprentice was the one that had helped designed the traps alongside himself and affectionately gave the name The Iron Web to the creation. Peter had took it upon himself to bestold a name to all of Tony's creations, much to the latter's exasperation. Sometimes the blacksmith questioned why he picked the lithe, doe-eyed kid to pass his skills down to. But deep down Tony knew it was because Peter reminded him of his past young self. He hoped the light in the teen's eyes never went out and the innocence of life never extinguished.

However, Tony knew the boy was still inexperienced outside the safety of the townships. He was able to defend himself from foes but if there were to be rouge enemies around he would not have the strength to protect both the 14-year old and himself. He would know, his town had first-hand experience.

Kill on sight. Or They'll come back to kill you.

Anthony Edward Stark was born in the wake of fire and war with these words edged in his heart and ingrained into his memory. No one knew how they came to be but perhaps since the beginning of time, the Sorcerers made themselves known to the world. They were the epitome of abominations, a taint of the living and a disruption of the natural order.

While Man wielded axes and had to build physical defenses, these beings channeled their innate powers from fingertips and conjured golden shields of patterned mandalas through their palms. Where they walked, the Sorcerers scourged the earth and turned all they touched to dust and ash, leaving a trail of death in they path. Half of towns and villages were felled by the twist of their wrists and chantings of spells from the tip of their tongue. There were only so much one could do against a higher being that had the power of supernatural at their fingertips. Fear raged as powerful as the battle surrounding the people.

But humanity had proved again and again that they were a stubborn bunch. Man had evolved to endure hardship- even against the impossibly bleak circumstance. They were not one to lie down and surrender so easily.

The Chiefs their Trackers and tacticians of all towns banded together tirelessly and sieved through each defeat and battle with a fine-tooth comb, struggling to look for weaknesses; anything that might give them an edge. Their search was ultimately not in vain. After a rather long and arduous battle, Man came together to the same conclusion that there were two important factors that they had over those magical abominations: Endurance and unity.

It turned out that a Sorcerer had a limited amount of magic they could use in their arsenal of tricks and they worked alone like lone wolves in a broken pack. They had no tactics, no strategy, no teamwork. Just a wild individual storm of madness.

So Man stood firm and planted themselves in the eye of the storm, unwavered and in union and fought back with strength of a thousand men.

Man started to forge stronger armor and weapons to hold up against the Sorcerers who were only clad in robes and rough hooded cloaks and goaded them to exhaust their magic supplies. Man targeted and crippled their hands where the sparks was channeled out. Man converged and picked their battles, taking each sorcerer down one at a time instead of going up against all of them as an entire entity. And then came the very day where the first Sorcerer fell: Man realized they had finally changed the tide of this war.

Because under all the magic and power, under all the dark robes and flaming gold, Sorcerers were still failable- they were still human.

And humans could be killed.

Failure dwindled. Defense morphed into attack. Man hunted the Sorcerers down like the abominations they were. Chased them away from their towns like animals.

Till one day they just all stopped coming altogether.

Sorcerers became the bogeymen in the bedtime stories mothers told their children. The things that went bump in the night. The monsters in the dark to fear. They were rare nowadays, a couple of rouges here and a little confrontation there but never again did towns fall under their name. But the town of Genevra remained vigilant nevertheless.

Tony recalled the Trackers marching back in high spirits days ago, Rogers sweeping the company as they emerged victorious. There were a couple of burns and bruises but nothing that was fatal.

"Well we hopefully wouldn't be seeing them again anytime soon." Rogers had announced two days ago, quick to dismount his stallion as Tony came to greet them at the entrance wanting to see how his latest weapons farred in the skirmish.

"Ahh you should have seen us Tones." The taller blond added with one hand adjusting his silver-navy chestplate before throwing him a smirk. Tony remembered ducking his head, rolling his eyes at the nickname and tried to look everywhere but those baby blues.

"Well do you want a congratulatory clap on the back for your good work Spangles?" He quipped back with apparent false adoration, refusing to add to Roger's slowly growing ego. Albeit, it was not all fake. Steven Rogers was the town's best warrior and Captain of the Trackers. With his adonis-sculpted body, that razor sharp jaw-line and those piercing sky-blue eyes, Tony was lying if he was not a little smittened by the excessive attention Rogers had been giving him recently.

Rogers barked out a contagious laugh that unwittingly curled Tony's lips into a smile before replying sweetly like a child that had been given candy before dinner.

"Mhm I would be blessed to have Genevra's sturdiest hands to do the honors for me."

Blood rapidly rushed up the blacksmith's face and Tony could not hide the red that suddenly dusted his cheeks at the innuendo. Ignoring the good-natured chuckles from the rest of the Trackers, Tony flipped them the bird before beating a hasty retreat.

By Roger's side in the company stood Clinton Barton. He was undoubtedly the best marksman in town with frightening hawk-like accuracy and a perpetual resting bitch-face. Said face had now tears running down from gwaffing at the antics between his captain and their blacksmith. Barton and him never really saw eye to eye at first. Their conversations often consisted of snark and loaded words of sarcasm. It was only recently where Tony had created new explosive arrows-tips and a lighter, sturdier bow for the marksman had Barton's attitude towards him lightened. One was not that stupid to had beef with Genevra's best weapons blacksmith who forged weapons that had the highest efficiency in battle. (He was just that good).

Shadowing them both was SIC tactician Natasha Romanoff. A year ago, Tony had made a fatal error by second-guessing Romanoff's ability to wield the weapons that he had forged for the men. In retrospect, Tony should have known better, she was no ordinary dame. Needless to say the weapons blacksmith had long learnt his very unforgettable lesson. Hopefully, with the amount of new armor and upgrades he had been providing her, he had successfully placated Romanoff from killing him in his sleep.

Tony watched wistfully as Rogers grabbed his weapons satchel and unlatched a heater-shaped shield still in its sleeve from his horse, going from flirty to serious in a heartbeat as he began giving orders to his company to remain for a debrief. Apparently, there were a trio of lone low-powered Sorcerers sighted along the western side of the area within 3 miles of the town which spelt danger.

Strangely, the magic-users did not attack when the company advanced. Within 15 minutes, they backed down and the Trackers chased them as far as the start of the canyons before turning back. This was the first time in a couple of months that Sorcerers had been seen. Rogers still have not decided if it was a tactical retreat for them in preparation for something bigger or a straight up folly on their part. But one would not look a gift horse in the mouth. When the time came, Genevra would be ready to defend.

For the longest time Tony had always wanted to be part of the company of Trackers. To patrol the borders and protect his town in battle. But after The Fire, his weakened immune system and health made him perceptible to fatigue, breathlessness and vertigo if overexerted. Rubbing his sternum unconsciously, the weapon's blacksmith traced the lines of raised skin that encircled his chest just above his beating heart, inhaling sharply as the memory hit him faster than the air that entered scarred lungs.

On his third birthday, a blaze of inferno decimated half of Genevra. Tony was found, chest riddled with shrapnel and covered in his parent's blood. If smoke inhalation had not killed him, the puncture wounds inches from his heart would have. Tony should have died on that fateful day but somehow, by the will of a higher being, he pulled through. But never again could he run as fast as his peers or battle in long hours of combat like the warriors. Till this day, no one had discovered the responsible party. However, townsfolk have been pointing fingers at the Sorcerers. How else could a fire could burn for so long and so rapidly? Moreover, survivors had said that they felt a darkened sense of unease surrounding the town. Apparently, 28 years since Genevra had been infiltrated by either nature or mystic, it was said that the lingering feeling of the supernatural never abated.

If it was not for Yinsen, Tony's mentor who pulled him up and raised him out of the flames, Tony would have probably taken his life before his age reached double digits. The elder blacksmith took it up to himself to be a father figure Tony so desperately needed. Yinsen taught him everything, from basic first aid to forging the strongest iron. It was then where Tony found his love for creation and the art of constructing.

In time, when the smoke cleared and the dust settled, Genevra rebuilt itself back to its former glory. And so did Tony Stark.

"Don't waste it." Yinsen had whispered forlornly years later on his deathbed, aged-cloudy eyes locked firmly onto his as Tony sat by his side tearfully and stayed till he took his last breath.

"Don't waste your life Stark."

So as Tony caught sight of the red, white and blue shield he had personally created out of a new concoction of metal alloy, though blemished with several scourge-marks and dotted with scratches but undoubtedly whole and finally unbroken in Roger's proud grasp; the man smiling softly as he headed towards the blacksmith to present the success of his newest edition, Tony knew that this was what his life was meant for.

If he couldn't physically protect his town, he was damn well sure he was going to avenge it: For the fallen of the past and for the generations to come in the future.

Tony blinked out of his musings as he felt his boot scrap the edge of the valley halting him in his steps instinctively and rushing his mind back to the present. Right. His traps. Gazing down into the waters deep within the gorge, the blacksmith exhaled sharply. Damn that was close. He had got to stop pondering and walking around, one day it was going to get him killed.

The sun was lowering sluggishly into the canyons of the west, drapping the air into a cooler bearable temperature. Tony estimated he had around an hour of sunlight left before it grew too dark to wander around.

"Right. Let's hurry it up now." He announced under his breath, raising his handwritten location markings towards the light and studying them intently. There were three traps placed 20 yards between each other, all parallel to the treeline and the valley. He had to be careful, it would not do him and his health well if Tony accidentally triggered his own trap and was stuck under it for the entirety of the night. The blacksmith did not want to raise his expectations, after all these were just experimental snares. For all he knew they might not have worked at all.

(A little part of him wanted to see Peter's excited and adoring face when he brought back The Iron Web's first catch though. That kid really worshiped the ground he stood on. He did not want to be that guy to tell him that he was failable like any other man.)

But as he walked on, his hopes were setting faster than the sun. The fist two traps were intact but unmistakably empty. Grumbling under his breath, Tony was sorely tempted to turn back and return to Genevra. He could feel the chill of dusk seeping into his chest and was starting to feel the pangs of hunger-

A glint of metal that flashed, reflected from the last dying strands of sunlight about six yards away caught the sharp eyes of the blacksmith.

Bullseye . Tony smiled internally as he picked up the pace. There was a sizable lump under clumps of kicked up leaves directly at the spot of the third trap's location.

The last trap had definitely been sprung.

Delight surged through his body, adrenaline warming himself momentarily. In the madness of the border skirmish some poor creature must have ran right into the trap. Just want he needed to end an unsatisfactory day. As they say, third time's the charm!

But as Tony neared his snare, it dawned on the weapons blacksmith like a slap in the face that it was not an animal that was caught.

His jaw dropped with an audible snap, good mood evaporating. Shaking fingers unconsciously slid to the dagger at his belt as Tony backed away with a sudden rush of realization and dread.

" Oh fuck me. "

For lying just five feet away, motionless and entangled under the web of thick nylon ropes and heavy metal iron, was a Sorcerer.

A/N

It started of as a dream I had after re-watching Doctor Strange: What if the world saw Sorcerers as monsters to kill? Thus this came alive. Also recently, I have been waist-deep in Ironstrange stories and I have been quite obsessed! So this is my very first attempt at fanfiction in this fandom and for this ship. I know this has been quite description heavy and I promise there'll be more dialogue in the coming chapters between our favorite boys. I just had to build up the AU storyline first. With that said, I really don't mind hearing any conducive comments or criticism from the true veterans here on this site xD

Welcome to 'Of Man and Magic ' Hope you guys will stay for the ride! :)