Harry sat on the train, deep in thought, looking out the window as Hogwarts faded into the distance.
When he came to the castle, he had a vague idea of what to expect, classes, quidditch, learning how to harness his magic, and begin his training with Merlin, but nothing could have prepared him for what he found.
Political machinations, conspiracies, cults, portals to other dimensions, demonic entities, glimpses into the afterlife, and meeting primordial and legendary beings, and it seemed like he was only scratching the surface of the oddities that he would experience in his future.
'Still… It isn't all bad though,' he thought, with a smile glancing at his friends sharing the train compartment with him. He'd made friends, real ones, ones that he could trust with his secrets, ones that cared about him.
Hermione had her nose in a book, unsurprisingly it was one about house-elves. He read the cover, House-Elves & Self-Hatred, wondering if it had been a good idea to open that can of worms for her.
The relationship between wizards, witches, and house-elves was a complex one. Some house-elves were treated like members of the family, trusted caretakers of children, and were well cared for, but there were also elves that were mistreated, punished, and even killed by their masters for little more than perceived slights.
He made a mental note to have a discussion with Hermione about it later, and explain things from his perspective before her book filled her head with all the wrong ideas.
Next he glanced at Draco sitting next to Hermione. It was strange to think about, considering his upbringing, but he seemed to be the closest to Hermione, both of them sharing a similar competitive streak, and also bonding over what they'd been through as members of the study group, and the aftermath of cheating on the test when they were ostracized by much of the school.
Draco had turned out to be far different from he expected. There was a certain amount of arrogance, especially in the beginning, but as he got to know Draco, he realized it was a mask he wore, one to fit in and thrive amongst the purebloods. But it wasn't who he truly was.
If anything, he was a kindred spirit, someone who also contended with the unrealistic expectations of his father, and never quiet measuring up, no matter how hard he tried.
Then he glanced at Ron, his first and truest friend, sitting next to Sally Perks, one of his scholarship students he had also become close with.
When he met Ron, he had seemed lost, not sure how he fit in with his family, and struggling to stand out amongst his older brothers. He clearly didn't have that problem anymore, and he couldn't be prouder of his friend's accomplishments.
Ron had faced every danger he had, from the Acromantula in the forbidden forest, the fight with the study group as they fled Ravenclaw tower, and the battles at the end of the school year, and unlike him, Ron didn't have Merlin's training to fall back on.
His friend's bravery left him in awe at times, a true Gryffindor in every sense of the word.
"Harry?" Ron asked, looking over at his friend curiously. "Any plans for the summer?"
Harry nodded, thinking about all the commitments he'd made. "Where to start?" he chuckled ruefully.
"I've got the promotion work for Nimbus to launch the new broom, catching up with Ted about the scholarship program, there's that favor I owe the goblins, so I'll have to get to the bank before Gringott gets impatient, and sends a goblin squad to come find me," he joked. "And if I can manage all that, find some time to visit Ben."
"Oh, I remember that," Sally said, her eyes lighting up. "When you introduced us to Mr. Whitehorn at the Ministry Christmas party. Are we still going to try out the Nimbus 2000s before they launch?"
"The 2000s?" Ron sputtered, looking between Sally and Harry wide eyed. "Why am I only finding out about that now?" he demanded.
"Relax," Harry chuckled, "You, Hermione, and Draco are invited too," he said, seeing the look in Draco's eyes as well. "We'll do it sometime before September. I'll let you know."
Hermione looked back and forth between the boys, her eyes dancing with amusement. Ron and Draco were both quidditch fanatics, so it came as no surprise they would both jump at the opportunity to try out the new state-of-the-art racing brooms.
It would probably be the highlight of their summer, and while she had little interest in Quidditch or flying, she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to catch up with her friends during the summer.
"I think you'll like it too, Hermione," Harry added, seeing the look on her face. "The charms, runes, and the enchantments on the broom are the most advanced I've ever seen. If you're interested, I can ask Devlin if he wouldn't mind sharing a few schematics of the older brooms with you."
Then it was Hermione's turn for her eyes to light up. Ancient Runes was a third-year course, and enchantments weren't taught at all at Hogwarts. The only way to learn was an apprenticeship, and those were extremely coveted spots handed out to only a handful of students.
"Seriously!?" Hermione beamed. "You have to tell me now if you're joking. I'll never forgive you if you are!"
Harry laughed, "It's no joke, Hermione. I promise."
Hermione quickly got a sheet of parchment and a quill, scribbling down some notes.
"What are you writing?" Draco asked curiously, looking over Hermione's shoulder.
"The questions I'm going to ask Mr. Whitehorn," Hermione said without glancing up. "You should too. We may never get another chance like this."
"No thanks," Draco replied, leaning back in his seat, imagining himself on the new Nimbus before anyone else. "I'll be too busy flying to worry about any of that," he said cheekily.
"So where are you going to be staying for the summer, Harry?" Sally asked, doubting that he would be going back to his family manor.
"I haven't really given it much thought," Harry said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose I could stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the summer, or maybe Gringott's if they let me."
"You mean in your vault?" Hermione asked confused, looking up from her notes. "They let you do that?"
"No," Draco shook his head. "They have special rooms reserved for high-profile clients. My father said he stayed in one in France once. It's invitation only."
"What do you think about staying at the Burrow?" Ron asked, "at least for part of the summer?"
"The Burrow?" Harry asked. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to impose. You said Bill was back home, too."
"Don't worry about that," Ron dismissed. "We're wizards. We can always make room, besides mum asked me to invite you… Actually, now that I think about it," he said, scratching his head. "It was more like an order with the threat of a punishment, if I forgot to ask."
Harry laughed, "well I guess I can't say no to that."
(break)
James sat in the living room, a proud smile on his face as he read the letter that just arrived. "Lily, Glory! Come in here," he called out happily.
"What is it?" Lily asked, coming into the living room a few moments later with their daughter in tow.
"It's happening, it's finally happening," he beamed. "The DMLE investigation is over. I'm finally getting back the Potter fortune."
"That's great!" Lily beamed, reading through the letter herself.
Glory stared at her parents celebrating, a slow smile working its way onto her face as it dawned on her. The one thing Harry had over her was his money, and now, with the Potter fortune, he didn't even have that.
"Does this mean we have more money than Harry?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes," James laughed, still celebrating. "Probably twenty times as much now!"
"Hold on, James," Lily said, reading the rest of the letter. "We don't know that for sure. We still have to visit Gringotts and sign the paperwork, and review the account holdings. Who knows what Dumbledore could have done with it after all these years."
"Daddy!" Glory interrupted. "Can we buy Cleansweep?" She demanded, still feeling a stab of jealousy that Harry bought Nimbus.
James's first thought was to say yes, loving the idea of owning a broom company as prestigious as Cleansweep, and all the perks that came along with it, but after one look at Lily, he thought better of it. "We'll have to see sweetheart."
"That's not fair!" Glory said, stamping her foot, not bothering to hide her disappointment. "Harry has Nimbus. We should have our own broom company, too!"
"Glory, we've talked about his," Lily said patiently. "You're getting to be a big girl now, and how people see us is important, especially with you going to Hogwarts in the fall. You need to make a good impression, and getting upset because Harry has something you don't isn't a good enough reason."
"But mom…" Glory whined, looking back and forth between her mother and father. She hated these new rules. They had the money now. Why couldn't they just spend it? Wasn't that what it was there for?
"No," James agreed, surprising both his wife and daughter as he got serious. "Your mother is right. I'm not saying no, but we need to look into it. A purchase that big has to make sense," he said, repeating what his father had said to him years earlier. "You're just going to have to be patient, sweetheart."
Glory crossed her arms angrily, looking back and forth between her mother and father. She didn't like it one bit. She had read about Harry in the newspaper, all the things he did, things she should have been the one to do, and if she didn't do something soon, he could become even more famous than her.
"Fine," she muttered. "But I want new clothes to go to Hogwarts, and a new broom."
"That's something we can definitely do," James chuckled, putting his arm around his daughter. "And not only that, we'll get you the best school supplies money can buy, and hire you a tutor for the summer."
"What?" Glory asked, alarmed. "A tutor? No! I don't want that!"
"It won't be that bad," Lily said, placating her. "Harry was at the top of the student rankings for his year, and people are going to expect the same from you."
"James," she said, looking at her husband. "Maybe we should hire that consultant we were talking about, the one that does image consultations."
"I don't see why not," James agreed.
"What's all the commotion?" Dung asked, walking in, looking like he had just woken up, despite that fact that it was already mid-afternoon.
"My family fortune," James replied. "I'm finally getting it back."
"Good," Dung agreed, getting a gleam in his eyes. "That means you can finally pay me."
James nodded. "I will, but there's something else I'd like to discuss with you first. Lily, why don't you take Glory to Diagon Alley for an ice cream to celebrate? I'll be there soon."
Lily caught James's eye, giving him a nod as she ushered an excited Glory out of the room.
They'd already discussed it beforehand, and after everything Dung had done for them already, they both agreed he would be perfect for what they planned next.
James cast a muffling charm as the door closed behind his wife and daughter, not willing to risk a certain reporter overhearing what he had to say.
"Can't be too careful," he explained. "Have a seat, Dung," he said, sitting down in his chair across from him. "I have another business proposal for you."
"And my money?" Dung asked, sitting down.
"Like I said, you'll get it," James agreed. "But how does another 25,000 galleons sound?"
"Like I want to hear more," Dung smiled greedily.
"Good," James agreed, a matching smile on his face. "Dumbledore stole my family fortune out from under me and played me for a fool for years. I want to do the same to him, take away everything he cares about, starting with his reputation."
"I like the way you think Potter," Dung agreed, remembering how Dumbledore has sent Moody to kill him, then hung Evergreen around his neck, and turning him into a wanted criminal.
"I discussed it with Lily. The Dumbledore's are a lordly family. They had no reason to steal family fortunes. I need you to find out why he did it," James said. "But I don't want you to stop there. Find out about every skeleton in his closet, everything his family may or may not have done. No rumor is too small. I want to know everything about him."
"I'm on it," Dung replied, agreeing wholeheartedly with the plan.
Dumbledore had already proven himself more than capable of weathering scandals, and bad press individually. To take him down, they would need to strip him of his prestige and the reverence the common man had for him, piece by piece, slowly chipping away at his armor until there was nothing left but an old man the world would soon forget about.
"There's one more thing," James said, his eyes darkening. "Moody."
"What about him?" Dung asked, curiously.
"I want him dead, and I want to be the one to land the killing blow," James replied.
Dung blanched, looking back at Potter. He had seen the man angry, but not like this. This was the kind of cold fury he rarely, if ever, saw. "…That's a tall order he replied," swallowing nervously.
"Moody is still one of the best duelists around. It's not a no…" he said, seeing the determined look on Potter's face. "But if we're going to do this, I need to know why. The real reason."
"He came into my house," James replied. "Slipped right past my wards and took me out of my bed with no one noticing. He told me to keep quiet, or he would be back to kill me."
Dung leaned back in his chair, letting out a sigh. He was more than positive Potter was holding out on him, omitting a few key details, but his anger was real, and so was the hint of fear in his tone.
Moody was no friend of his either, and more than likely still hunting for him to make sure the Evergreen story died with him. "First things first. I have a guy, a ward specialist. He's discreet, and he'll make sure Moody can't get back in here. He won't come cheap, though."
"That won't be a problem," James said, waving off the cost. "But there is one other thing. Lily, she wants Dumbledore in Azkaban, along with Moody. You and I… I think we're more practical about this kind of thing. I don't want them seeing the inside of a cell they can just break out of whenever they please. I want them both in the ground, but as far as Lily knows, that's what we're doing. Will you have a problem with that?"
"None at all," Dung replied, glad that he and Potter were on the same page. It made things so much easier when he didn't have to waste time hiding things like this from his clients.
James smiled. "You know what, Dung? I think I was wrong about you. I think we'll get along just fine," he said, extending his hand for the other man to shake.
"I couldn't agree more," Dung smiled.
(break)
Albus sighed tiredly, setting down his copy of the Quibbler as he rubbed his temples. He had expected no less after Skeeter's last two articles.
It was a full accounting of the battle against the demon, including an interview from a student whose identity had been withheld for their safety, along with pictures taken from their memories, leaving no doubt about what truly happened.
From the pictures he knew it had to be either Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, or Draco Malfoy, but it hardly mattered who, the proverbial cat was already out of the bag.
There was also a growing stack of letters on his desk as Owls came in and out of his office every few minutes. He had half a mind to simply close his window and be done with it.
Then take a nice long vacation and wait for everything to blow over, but his intuition told him there was a seismic shift happening in the wizarding world, and for the first time in a long time, he was on the outside, looking in.
He would have to address it, but for the life of him, he didn't know how. His finances were all but gone. Too much of it had been tied up in Evergreen, and he had to sever it, otherwise the Wizengamot, or more likely the Goblins, would connect the dots back to him.
He sighed deeply, feeling another headache coming on. Combining the various factions of the Wizengamot under him, and taking control of the press had been his plan to weather the storm, and re-write the narrative, and as much as he hated to admit it Ogden had outmaneuvered him, and worse he hadn't seen any of it coming.
The sniveling jellyfish of a man had grown a spine at the least convenient time for him, and now his so-called allies weren't even responding to his letters.
He could feel the walls closing in around him as he struggled to find purchase. He needed something to change the narrative, knowing that Ogden wouldn't let an opportunity like this pass him by to further discredit him.
It was only a matter of time before the next addition of the Prophet came out, and unlike the Quibbler, they wouldn't limit themselves to what they could prove. They would publish every half-baked theory and opinion piece they could come up with until nothing remained of his reputation.
He reached into his robes, pulling out the elder wand as he stared at it for a long moment. It had been a source of comfort to him for many years, but not anymore. In his hands, it was all but useless now, just a pretty stick.
The only silver lining in all this mess was that Harry didn't know he was the master of the elder wand. To him, it was at most a fanciful story, and he would need to keep it that way.
'The things Harry could do with this wand in his possession…' Albus thought, remembering his battle with the demon. A shiver running down his spine as he thought about her.
His plans for the boy hadn't changed, he would have to deal with him, and soon, but at this point he was likely halfway back to London.
He couldn't risk sending Moody after him, not in a populated area, and now less sure than ever that Moody could even capture him again like he did the previous summer.
He would have to bide his time and wait for the right opportunity. After all, such things were always easier to manage in the shadows.
He looked up, scowling, as another owl swooped in, landing on his desk.
Irritated, he waved his hand, shoeing away the owl, but the stubborn thing refused to move.
"Put it over there with the rest," Albus finally said, pointing at the stack of letters, only for the owl to extend its leg with the letter tied to it.
Albus glared at the owl darkly as he gripped his wand, suddenly feeling the urge to take out his frustrations on it, only to remember that the elder wand no longer worked for him.
"Leave," Albus growled, roughly yanking the letter from the Owl's outstretched talon.
The Owl squawked indignantly at Albus as it jumped into the air, knocking over the neatly piled stack of letters as it flew out the window.
Albus glared at the owl as it flew off into the distance, crumpling the letter in his fist as it disappeared into the horizon, and tossed it on his desk, getting back to his thoughts on how to handle the situation with the Potter boy.
A direct confrontation would be problematic. There was no telling how many witnesses there would be, and without his finances and connections to smooth everything over, or the Obliviators to handle the muggles, it was far too risky a proposition. The last thing he needed was the press to get a hold of the story.
He combed his fingers through his beard, considering the possibilities until he noticed something about the crumpled letter sitting on his desk, making out the first name. "Nicolas," he read out loud.
Un-crumpling the letter, he confirmed his suspicions, reading the name Flamel. He looked at it curiously, wondering why his old mentor would be contacting him after all this time. It had, after all, been nearly twenty years since they last spoke.
His curiosity getting the better of him, he tore open the letter.
Hello Albus,
I have some fantastic news! Do you remember the item we found on the dig in Greece? The one you said was just a polished stone? Well, I looked at it this morning and something was different. You have to come see it! This could be even bigger than the twelve uses of Dragon Blood!
Albus put down the letter, a ghost of a smile on his face as he thought about his old mentor, thinking hard about what he could have meant. The last time had had been on a dig with his mentor was some thirty years ago, and they'd been on dozens of digs over the years.
One thing he had figured out about Nicolas and Perenelle early on was their sense of time was vastly different from everyone else.
After living for nearly six hundred years, they didn't perceive time in the same way anymore. For them, a period three of four decades would feel like only a year had passed.
He returned his attention to the letter, hoping there would be something there to jog his own memory.
Albus, I think it's an egg, and before you say it, I know. It was buried in a tomb for thousands of years, and whatever was in there should have petrified long ago, but I've been studying it for weeks, and there's no mistaking it. It's drawing in magic.
Admittedly, it's not much, but after being nothing more than a shiny rock for centuries, this is huge. I think it's trying to hatch.
Albus's eyes widened as a memory hit him like a thunderbolt, remembering where they found the item Nicolas was talking about, an abandoned temple on Mount Cynthus.
It had been significant because there were clear signs of a magical community inhabiting the area, even crude muggle repelling wards that were still functional.
His interest truly peaked now. He returned his attention to the letter, wondering what else Nicholas had to say about it.
I've been studying my old journal, and the notes and etchings I took from the excavation site, and while I still haven't cracked the dialect, the location, the imagery, and the bits and pieces I've been able to put together, I think it's a phoenix egg.
If this turns out to be real, everything we thought we knew about wizarding history will be turned on its head. Pheonix's won't be creatures of myth and legend anymore.
You were there with Perenelle and I when we discovered the temple, when we found the egg. It's only right you're with us now when we make this discovery, too.
Get yourself an international portkey to France and get here as quickly as you can.
Nicholas
Albus put down the letter, considering the implications. It couldn't be a coincidence. The timing was too perfect. How else could a fossilized egg showing no signs of life for thousands of years suddenly come back to life?
The events in the forest, the portal. It all had to be connected, and he needed to find out more.
(break)
Remus read through the small stack of Quibbler articles he'd managed to get his hands on for what felt like the hundredth time.
The wizarding community in Canada was small, almost non-existent in comparison with Europe.
He had hoped to find a place within that community when he first arrived, but found the same bigotry towards werewolves as in Britain, and decided to keep to himself rather than risk being discovered.
It was on one of his infrequent trips there that he discovered a small shop selling international newspapers, and when he saw Harry on the front page he recognized him immediately, buying the newspaper on the spot, along with many others reporting on the portal, and the battle at Hogwarts.
He had discarded the Prophet immediately, not even bothering to read it beyond the headline as it widely differed from the other newspapers, heaping praise on Dumbledore more than anything else.
The others newspapers mostly re-treaded the same story as the Quibbler, adding few if any new information, but all painting the same story of Harry, along with a small group of students, professors, goblins, and Aurors battling against a demonic entity invading the world.
Ever since Rita visited him all the feelings he'd bottled up over the years came rushing back to him.
The betrayal of the people he'd once considered family, their abandonment, their accusations, how James and Lily hadn't even given him the opportunity to say goodbye to his godson, and just erased him from their lives like he was nothing.
It still boiled his blood even now, thinking about them.
When he fled England he had barely a handful of galleons left, and if he hadn't left when he did he would have been begging on the streets, but over the last decade he's scrimped and saved.
It wasn't a fortune, but enough for him to make a trip back to England, and stay for at least a few weeks.
With his beard and all the years that passed he doubted anyone would even recognize him anymore.
Despite all the changes he'd read about in the Quibbler, he doubted that any of them extended to werewolves and their treatment by the Ministry and the Wizengamot, but he wouldn't stay long enough for them to figure out who he was.
He would see Harry, make sure he was alright, maybe even share a few words with him if he was lucky.
He wouldn't tell him who he was. He didn't want Harry's pity or to complicate his life any more than it already was. He just wanted to see him again with his own eyes once more.
His decision made, Remus put down his newspaper, and went to pack a bag, making arrangements to travel to the country of his birth one last time.
(break)
Tonks marched through the cavernous underground compound, her heels clicking on the polished stone floor as she made her way to Saul Croaker's office, shoving open the door.
"Hello Tonks," Saul smiled, looking up from his copy of the Quibbler. "What can I do for you?"
"You can start by telling me what you're planning to do with Harry," she demanded, crossing her arms. "I know you've been watching him," she accused.
"Yes, but not for the reason you think," Saul replied, leaning back in his chair. "We've been observing him, that's true, but we have no plans to harm him, far from it. We simply want to know how he knows what he does."
"What things?" Tonks demanded suspiciously.
"There is a set of techniques that every wizarding government in the world has forbidden, then became lost to time centuries ago," Saul said, standing up from his desk. "I've studied these techniques extensively over the past thirty years, techniques you too will learn."
Before Tonks could question Saul further, she looked at his arm in surprise, seeing it encased in magic.
"This is called Sain," Saul continued. "It creates a hardened layer of magic around one's body, capable of protecting them from both physical and magical attacks."
"This is called Ausot," Saul said, speeding across the room faster than Tonks could blink.
Tonk's eyes widened, remembering how she had seen Harry move like that when they fought the Alumni in Hogwarts earlier in the year.
"This is called Autain," Saul continued, launching a bolt of magic from his palm at the wall, leaving behind a blackened scorch mark.
Tonks stared at Saul, feeling like she was seeing him for the first time. He was far from the old man he appeared to be, maybe even strong enough to stand toe to toe with Dumbledore.
"Hit me," Saul instructed.
"W-what?" Tonks sputtered, wondering if she misheard him.
"I said hit me," Saul replied firmly.
Tonks could only nod, drawing her wand. "Stupefy," she said, watching as Saul twisted his body to the side, his body a blur as her curse sailed past him.
"Come on," Saul continued. "You can do better than that!"
"Stupefy, Stupefy, Stupefy!" Tonks shouted, throwing a trio of stunners only for Saul to dodge them just as easily.
"That is called Audia Ouromnte," Saul replied, staring back at Tonks. "It enhances the mind to process information at a much faster rate than normal."
"H-how," Tonks stuttered.
"That is what I would like to know," Saul replied, going back to his desk and sitting down. "These techniques are thousands of years old, and all but forgotten, yet Harry Potter knows how to perform all of them, and during the heat of battle, no less."
"Could he have figured it out on his own?" Tonks asked.
"There is an outside possibility he could have re-discovered one of them, however remote," Saul replied, "but certainly not all three, and not to the proficiency he is capable. The skills he displayed takes decades to hone, and master."
"And what are you going to do when you find out?" Tonks pressed.
"That is the question, isn't it?" Saul asked. "To be honest, I don't know. It depends what he has to say about it."
"You said you wanted to recruit him before, but it was more than that, wasn't it?" Tonks continued.
Saul snorted, cracking a smile. "I was a fool to deny your application when I did. That intuition you have, it can't be taught. And to answer your question, yes. There is more. I'm an old man, and my best days are nearly all behind me."
"He's your replacement," Tonks realized.
"You both are," Saul countered.
"Who are you people?" Tonks asked softly. "You're not just researchers. You're not just fighters. You're something else."
"We are shadows," Saul replied mysteriously.
(break)
Hi! I hope you enjoyed the Epilogue. This is NOT the end of the story, just the end of Book One. The next book will be called the Legacy of Shadows. It will consist of four arcs, the first of which will be about 30 chapters long, and pick up where book one left off which I'll have out on the normal day, two weeks from today.
The story is now 420k words give or take, and has been living rent free in my head for the better part of the last 20 years, and I'm really happy that I'm finally able to write some of it down, and how well it has been received.
It's evolved a lot from my outline back in 2022, and the original version of the story that I wrote way back in 2005. There is also a lot more coming, with at least another two books planned.
I have also been paying attention to all your feedback, and reviews, and one of the most consistent opinions is the depiction of the Potter family being over the top in how they treat Harry, with little to no reasoning behind it. In retrospect I see that. At the time I wanted to keep some aspects consistent with the original version of the story, and this was a big part of Harry's motivation in that version.
I've done some course correcting on this by reducing the Potter family's roles in the first book, and I'm planning some more changes to their motivations and storylines for book two. This will tone down some of the tensions between them, but not remove it entirely, especially with Glory going to Hogwarts in book two.
The second aspect of the story that I felt wasn't received very well was the flash backs to Merlin's past. My thinking behind that was Merlin's past directly linked to the story set in the present, and I wanted to show rather than tell in order to avoid a massive exposition dump in the middle of the story. I think I need to balance that better as the story progresses and will work on improving that.
The other aspect of the story that's been mentioned a lot is Ben, and yes he is Ben Parker from spiderman. This story will crossover with marvel, and there have been some references to marvel and the MCU that I've put in, but this won't be a direct insert of Harry into the MCU. There will be arcs in the story that deal more heavily with Marvel, but the story will primarily focus on the wizarding world.
thank you very much for reading, and supporting me, and please take the time to review and let me know what you thought of book 1.
If you would like to support me and my writing, please consider visiting https://taplink.cc/jumpin for all the stories I'm currently working on and early access to chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4 of Book Two, Legacy of Shadows, along with some character portraits for Merlin, Morgan and Nimue, and an audio versions of the chapters.
Thank you to all my supporters, and for everyone that reviewed. I really appreciate it.
Jumpin