A/N: I've decided to reopen my page on a certain platform—you know the one. If you enjoy my work and want to support it, you know where to look. No pressure, just putting it out there!
— HelloDarkness07
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London, 3rd March 1989:
Edwyn II Potter.
That was his name.
Wizard, Duelist, Philosopher, Politician, and the one he was proudest of, a master thief.
But that last one is not important right now.
What is important, is how he finds himself waking up not in the Pottery, as he expected, but instead in a dark vault at Gringotts.
Being a magical portrait, and a very old one in fact, Edwyn had no choice but to sleep for years at a time, staying awake for a couple years once he wakes. And each time, the time he stays awake keeps getting shorter, while the time he sleeps keeps getting longer.
So, there was a system in place. Whenever he woke up, Edwyn would call out for the Elves in the castle, who would then inform the family that he was available now if they had need of him for any reason whatsoever. And when he last slept, he clearly remembers the portrait being in the castle's portrait room, and not in the Vault.
And he recognizes it, of course. How could he not, for this is where he had kept two out of the three greatest treasures of his life. He had come here often, bringing his children along to tell them stories of these two treasures.
The first treasure was the sword used by his father at the time of his death. His father, Edwyn I. A hero of the Hundred year war, and a martyr in the Battle of Poitier. The best father anyone could have asked for.
And the second treasure, well it was a crown. A crown made out of Goblin Silver. Not exactly a common commodity, Goblin Silver, let alone a crown made out of it. So yes, a sword and a crown, both made of Goblin Silver.
Both of which seem to be missing from the Vault.
Now Edwyn might be a portrait, but when he sees his two treasures missing from where he remembers them to be, he finds himself enraged.
Even discounting the crown, Edwyn I was a hero to him, and he does not tolerate any insult to his father.
So yes, it really enraged him that the two things which he had specifically ordered all his descendants to not touch unless in case of an emergency, have been moved from their location.
The first thing he does then, is walk out of his current portrait, and into the secondary one which was last in the new cottage at Godric's Hollow. And when he does so, he finds himself.. surprised.
That was not Fleamont, and it did not look like the young James either. Well it did look a bit like James, but the eyes were green and glowing with power. James did not have such power, nor were his eyes green.
Is this a son of James? A grandson? He does not know how long it has been since he last awoke. Since James was still a child running around in the very house he is now in.
The thing that makes him stop his rant before it ever begins though, is the thing this child is doing in the living room where he finds himself.
There was a metallic golem laying on a table in the centre of the room, made out of multiple pieces attached together instead of a single one, with a metal skeleton to boot, to form the shape of a man.
No, not a man. A boy.
The young Potter was making a golem in his own image.
He finds himself captivated, unable to do anything but watch, as the boy starts chanting in a language he does not recognize. As a green glow surrounds the boy and the golem, the boy conjures from somewhere a real, but dead, heart, and places it inside the empty space within the golem's chest.
And then a liver, kidneys, and one by one, all the internal organs are placed in the metal body.
A few metal squares which are far away from his understanding, are inserted in the meaty bits, and slowly, bit by bit, the meat starts shrinking or growing to fit perfectly in the metallic body as the boy supplies his Magic for the same.
A few days later, blood is injected from a large bottle into the heart, and it starts pumping the blood with veins that grow as time passes.
A couple days after that a patch of what looks like flesh is placed on top of the heart, and after a few spells and potions injected once again into the heart and flesh, the flesh and muscles start growing on the body.
For days, Edwyn kept watching the boy work on the golem, wondering how exactly he was doing that. The box which he kept tapping on also evaded his understanding. All while the sword he came here to yell about sat on a shelf in the room itself while the crown remained hidden.
All the while Edwyn remains invisible, silently watching it all happen. He kept waiting for someone to barge in, to see this happen inside their home. But no Potter appears.
Days go by, and soon even Edwyn can tell that it is almost over. The heart is beating, the skin grown fully, hair covering his head. All in all, it looks completely indistinguishable from the real body doing all this.
And then, he takes out a small metal orb, made out of a metal he does not recognize, and inserts it in the heart after pulling the skin apart, and the golem.. starts breathing.
Once more the boy puts his hand on the head of the golem, and with spells whispered soft enough that he doesn't hear, he calls out, "Arise, my DOOMBOT!"
As if cue, the command causes the skies to thunder outside the house, and with a gasped breath, the golem snaps his eyes open and sits up on the table.
Edwyn is mesmerized.
This young Potter.. created life. Out of metal and his own flesh and blood. He created a new being.
He has long since forgotten his rage, since at least one object of his anger was now in front of him while the second he was pretty sure was also in the boy's possession. His father's sword hanging off the wall had reassured him that the family did not mean an insult, but actually meant to show off his family's status.
But.. there is no family to show off, is there? The boy lives alone, it seems to him.
Alone, lonely, and in possession of the best mind he has ever witnessed. And he used it to create a companion for himself.
Nay, this can't be allowed to pass. No descendant of his will live alone, without proper guidance.
"Ahem." Edwyn coughs forcefully, bringing the attention of both the boys, real and artificial, towards his portrait.
As their eyes pass over his portrait, the golem, or Doombot asks, "You.. heard it, right? Or am I… defective?"
'Fascinating.' Edwyn thinks to himself, amazed. He did not expect the golem to speak with such clarity, such emotion. And the last word was said with such disgust that even Edwyn felt like he had to cringe.
The real Potter boy scoffs, and taking a few steps towards Edwyn, he says, "I do not make errors. No, someone is here, in this room or maybe around it."
Pride for his work, now that Edwyn could understand. Afterall, not everyone could do what he could, stealing from Kings, Lords, Sorcerers, and Demons alike.
Although… 'Around?' Edwyn wondered to himself.
But not wanting to alarm the boys any more, he slowly pulls the Cloak of Invisibility off his body, immediately gaining the attention of the boys. Smiling disarmingly, he hopes, he says, "Greetings, descendant, golem. My name is Edwyn II Potter. What is your name and what relation do you have with James Potter?"
The Potter boy frowns in thought, his eyes caught on the Cloak for some reason. 'Ah, he must recognize the Cloak, after all.' He thinks. The boy turns his eyes up to look at him, and says, "I always wanted to talk to an ancestor of mine. Family history is.. important to me. I just never thought that it would happen this soon."
He then shakes his head, and continues, "My name is Harry by the way, James was my father. I did not know Portraits could become invisible or use Invisibility cloaks. Fascinating. Have you always been there, sitting in that chair?"
Edwyn could admit that the multiple questions reminded him of his children. The curiosity, the demand for answers.
"Ah, no. I have been here for a couple weeks, I was.. observing you, sorry about that. Before that though, I was asleep for the last 30 odd years, in another portrait which is supposed to be in our castle, but was in the Vault. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you? As for the Cloak, well, it is our Cloak. You must know exactly how special it is." Edwyn cheerfully answers, more to make the boy a bit more relaxed than anything else.
The boy, Harry James, frowns, and says, "I'm afraid I haven't encountered it before. I assume it belongs to our family?"
Edwyn.. is scandalized.
A Potter, doesn't know about the Cloak? Now that just won't do.
He shakes his head, and softly asks, "Can you tell me what happened to our family? As I have noticed by my observations.. I assume you are the last one remaining."
Harry slowly nods, and says, "My parents lost their lives to the Dark Lord Voldemort 8 years ago. My grandparents died a couple years before then. I lived with my muggle relatives for a few years, but last year I reclaimed this land from the Ministry."
Reclaimed?
Oh, Edwyn did not like the sound of that. He always knew nothing good would come with the formation of the Ministry. He tried to warn his descendant not to vote for it, but no. The young never listen.
Edwyn sits back down on the chair, and looking at the boy in front of him, "Ask the elf to make us tea if it would. I would like to hear how your life has been till now. Tell me everything."
"I don't have an elf." Harry says, sounding amused.. by him?
Oh, right. Edwyn had a tendency to forget that he wasn't alive anymore. He did miss tea the most.
Edwyn turns to look at the golem, but before he can even say anything, Harry says, "I will make myself some tea. Doombot, why don't you start our tale. Let's see how successful the memory transference was."
The golem bows his head, and walks to stand in front of the portrait, as Harry leaves for the kitchen. As the boy walks away, Edwyn looks at the golem, doubtful about how truthful it will be. Alive or not, golems have a wonderful tendency of being dumb as a brick.
But from what he has seen of his great-grandson, he might just be surprised.
——
Ever since that day, Edwyn remained a big part of Harry and the Doombot's life.
Or at least, he liked to think so.
Edwyn knew that for Harry he was nothing more than a source of information. Useful until he fell asleep again. But he didn't mind it. Why would he? That is why the portraits are made, isn't it?
But he also knew something else.
No matter how much Harry tried to hide it, he was beginning to grow used to Edwyn's presence. And if he was honest, Edwyn was fond of the boy too.
Hell, even the golem, apologies, Doombot, was growing on him.
The proof for that? Harry always took his time to come talk to the portrait, to ask for stories more than anything else. He did ask for some tips on how to use magic, but Edwyn had noticed over the months that Harry prefers to figure things out by himself.
So yes, it was mostly stories. Stories about his large family, about his father whose sword Harry hopes to weild, about the Pottery, about the Cloak which they are not sure who has, but mostly, about his various conquests. His thefts.
If it wasn't Harry, then it was Doombot in his stead.
Not that Edwyn could ever tell the difference between them, except for the first night when Doombot was ever so submissive.
But well, artificially created or not, dark magic or no, Doombot was created out of Harry's flesh and blood. His flesh and blood. Which means he was family. And that is all Edwyn cared about.
And now, it was time. He could feel the sleep creeping in. He had a few hours at most with Harry, for who knows when he will wake next. And so, he calls out, "Doombot, could you bring Harry out here please?"
Doombot, who had been in the kitchen fixing lunch for himself, stops what he is doing and calls for Harry immediately.
"Is it time then?" Harry asks as soon as he enters the room, while Doombot stays just a bit behind Harry.
Edwyn caresses the Cloak in his hands and nods. He says, "Yes, I can feel the sleep coming in, and I don't doubt that it will take decades for me to wake again."
Harry sighs, and sits down on the chair. There is silence for a few seconds, till Harry breaks it and says, "You know, I will miss you, old timer."
Edwyn smiles, although he does want to gloat that Harry does have feelings. He then looks towards Doombot, and says, "Come, boy. Sit down why don't you. Let me tell you one last story before I tell these stories to your children the next time I wake."
Doombot smiles and wandlessly conjures a chair for himself to sit on, which just makes Edwyn prouder at how his family is turning out to be. It may be a small family of one, or two depending on how one sees Doombot, but Edwyn has full confidence that both will become legends sooner than later.
Praises aside, Edwyn leans forward in his chair, and says, "Let me tell you two, a favourite story of mine. A story of bravery, of cunning, of intelligence, and most importantly, of love. This is the story of how I stole the greatest thing I could. The greatest treasure of my life."
He can see Harry and Doombot both lean forward, already invested.
He asks, "Harry, the day you took my father's sword from the Vault, you took something else too, am I right? A crown?"
Harry nods, and both their eyes widen in understanding. Harry conjures the Crown from the Vault, and floats it in the air in between them. He then asks, "So I was right? You stole this?"
Edwyn shakes his head with a smile, and says, "Now, Harry. The story comes first."
For a few seconds, Edwyn stares at the crown, lost in memories. He then says, "King Edward III had nine children who survived more than a couple years, have you read it?" At Harry's slow nod, "Well let me be the first to tell you, he actually had ten."
At Harry's surprised blink, he brings a smile to his face and says, "Blanche of House Plantagenet, born on 17th of April, 1342. Your history says she died the same day. But she lived, oh she lived for decades. You see, Blanche had the misfortune of being born as a magical child to a King of England. And they couldn't have that, no. The King silenced everyone who knew of her birth, spirited her away to be locked in the Tower of London, hidden by his own personal Wizards. And so she lived, for 15 years, hidden away from the muggles of England and known to the Wizards by a false name, Blanche Lockmoor. An orphan, I had assumed."
"You knew her?" Harry interjects, his eyes focused, no doubt already making the connections.
Edwyn nods, and smiling in nostalgia, he says, "I did. We were in the same year at Hogwarts, simply acquainted for the first three years, but I did start secretly courting her in our fourth. But during our summers before the fifth year, it happened. Something so traumatizing for her, but leading to the happiest moments of my life."
"You see, in the summer, the Church learned about Blanche, somehow. A soldier in the King's army decided to betray her, looking for some gold. The King killed him, of course. But he did not stop there. He decided that the only thing he can do is… kill her too, to make his shame disappear forever. For the damage was already done. The mob was barely a few days away from storming Windsor Castle, she had been allowed to visit her mother for the day. They demanded her immediate death, no witches to be suffered in the Royal family. And if she didn't die? Well, the Church always won. If it wasn't her, it was his entire family. His legacy. His reign."
Remembering those memories makes Edwyn clench his fingers even now, centuries later. But no, now is not the time for that.
He shakes his head, and smiles wide as he says, "She was a smart one, Blanche. And the King did love his daughter, or at least he respected his own blood in her even if it was magical. She convinced him to reschedule her death to the next night, a new moon, so no one would see. And while King Edward used the last shred of his mercy to allow that, Blanche.. sent her owl to me."
And now Harry's eyes start glinting in pride.
Edwyn has a sad smile as he says, "She did not ask for my help, no. She wrote to say goodbye."
And it was something they had had a large fight over leading up to her kissing him. Scandalous at the time.
Edwyn's sad smile turns prideful, as he says, "But I delivered the help just the same. This was just a few months after my father's death, and I was not about to lose another loved one so soon. I took this Invisibility cloak and that sword, and I stole into Windsor castle. Under my Cloak's invisibility, Blanche and I simply walked out of Windsor Castle, bags and pockets full of all her stuff, and a few of the King's own stuff. She called it her rightful inheritance."
And she had left a letter threatening her father to forget about her, to claim that she had died at birth. Unless he wanted her to use her magic to claim the throne herself. But that is not that important.
"The next year at Hogwarts, Blanche Lockmoor failed to show up, but a surprisingly similar looking Elina Libre transferred to Hogwarts from France."
'I was locked up, but I am free now.' she had said. And so came the name, Libre.
"Everyone knew, of course, but no one would say. Not when it would mean the death of her, and them." Edwyn said, and it almost caused him to chuckle remembering those days..
Edwyn never did say he was subtle. Showing up with a large Goblin Silver sword on his hip for the first day of his fifth year at Hogwarts made a very good point. Even if he had to send the sword back the next day.
Edwyn smiles softly, and says, "She fell in love with me then, and I was always in love with her. And somehow, we both fell in love with the thrill of sneaking around to steal stuff."
'Ah, the glory days.' Edwyn thought back with wonder. So much they had stolen only to give back the next day, most of the time. Books, weapons, plants, and even a baby dragon once. And that was just on Earth. After discovering Sorcery and the other Realms? No Realm was safe from their grubby hands.
"So when did you steal the crown?" Harry impatiently asks.
To which Edwyn just laughs.
"Steal?" He asks. "My boy, I never claimed to have stolen this crown. Although as per the Goblin customs, it is considered stolen now."
And it is then that Harry's eyes light up.
So Edwyn explains, "You see, I commissioned it from the Goblins using my ill begotten goods as price. I commissioned it when I asked her to marry me, and she wore it at our wedding."
And the goblins had taken the high price of a baby dragon from Muspelheim just for the Potter family to retain ownership of both the crown and his father's sword forever.
Harry is mesmerized, Edwyn can tell. The crown gently floats down to Harry's hands and as he holds it reverently, Edwyn can't help but put his hand on the parchment of the portrait, trying to reach out, trying to touch it.
Unfortunately, Elina had never allowed for her own portrait to be made before her unexpected death at 40, and neither had any of his children. So he did feel a bit lonely, although these past few months have helped his emotional state a lot.
Shaking his head, Edwyn pulls his hand back, and says, "When we married in Godric's Hollow, I put this crown on her head myself. This was a gift from me for her. A crown not stolen, but bought even if with stolen goods. A crown made out of the very Goblin Silver that King Edward failed to buy from the Goblin Nation."
"This was the first item I bought her, but not the last. I later built her the Pottery, our castle, and in return, she gave me five beautiful children, and her love. And truthfully, I never asked nor wanted for anything else." Edwyn has tears in his eyes at the memories of his wife.
Wiping his eyes he says, "That is the Crown of the Princess Elina Potter of the Pottery, grandson, your many times removed great-grandmother. So you better give it the respect it deserves."
Harry nods slowly, and bows his head to Edwyn. He says, "Edwyn.. I promise you, this Crown will remain in the Vault for the next few years, safe. And when the time comes, the entire world will learn of the Witch Princess of England. This is the word of Doom."
Edwyn ignores the eccentricities of the boy and just smiles. And then, his goodbyes over with, Edwyn walks back to the portrait in the Vault, drapes his body with the Invisibility Cloak, and slowly falls asleep again.
——
Tilda.
A name she did not remember when she had last heard in regards to herself. For centuries now, she has been known by one name, and one name only.
The Ancient One.
It is a bit funny how that developed. For the first 50 odd years of her stay at Kamar Taj as Sorcerer Supreme, everyone knew her as Master Tilda of Scotland. Then in the next 50 years Sorcerers found it a bit reluctant to simply call her Master Tilda. Some even began worshipping her because of her stolen immortality.
And through that worship came the name Amruta - immortal, in Sanskrit. And a couple decades later, when she put an end to the worship thing, it became The Immortal One, which somehow evolved to The Ancient One.
And no one had even asked if she had a name before this since then. They wondered, sure, and she found it funny to listen to the theories they had. But no one asked.
So yes, she had not heard her true name in almost 400 years. And now she heard it again, just not in a way she expected.
She suspected it, when she asked young Harry to show her that moment in the past, that what she is about to witness is going to simply close a loop. Something that had confused her for decades, and something which she now knew was always supposed to happen.
Tilda remembers hearing it clear as day all these centuries ago, Dormammu calling someone a thief and getting distracted mid battle. Which made her think about how it is possible to steal from Dormammu, which prompted her to become the thief which Dormammu recognized.
She can admit that what she believes has the capacity to unravel time is what is helping her understand it. Something which even the Eye of Agamotto does not allow her to do.
And why would it? It is not her relic, after all. She is allowed to use it on account of being the Sorcerer Supreme but she does not own it.
The Eye of Agamotto is a bit special in terms of Relics. There were just 3 people in all its history to have Mastery over the Eye.
The one who created it - Agamotto.
The one who first used it in battle against a Demon - Saraswati.
And the one who truly conquered Time - Cagliostro.
In a couple decades, one more man is going to join the very short list. Stephen Strange, the future Master of the New York Sanctum, and hopefully the Sorcerer Supreme as well.
Although, not even all Sorcerers Supreme have managed mastery of it. The Eye allows her to use it, of course, but she cannot control it the way these three were documented to do.
She can use it to peer into a few possible futures, but nothing more than the most probable few. She can get glimpses, clues and hints, puzzles to be solved, instead of clear insight. She can use it to peer into the past, but nothing as precise as what she had seen a day before.
Which is all the Eye of Agamotto allowed her to do.
So yes, the number of people favoured by the Eye in the last twenty thousand years could be counted on one hand, with fingers to spare.
And now, someone else has just become a candidate for the Eye, caught the eye of the Eye.
Harry… James… Potter.
Just by sheer genius, this child whom she strongly suspects is an Ancient Sorcerer or in the worst case, a God of Magic reborn, has managed to begin a journey towards Mastery of Time. Genius enough to have found a way to hide his presence from all manner of spying spells. Genius enough to make his house, and perhaps even himself invisible even in the Mirror Dimension and the Astral Plane. Genius enough to have found a way to make creating portals inside his house an impossibility.
And she has no doubt that the demons he had killed and turned to crystals a couple years ago have a not so small part to play in how he is managing this.
But the most worrying of all was the way he was completely invisible to the sight of the Eye of Agamotto.
She has tried so hard to break through whatever spells protect him from the Eye's sight, but alas, all was for naught. It even made her believe that the Eye was favouring him, for some reason.
Why? That is a question that she has no answer for as of now. And she doubts she ever will, not unless she knows exactly how Harry's machine works. And judging by how their last meeting went, Tilda did not believe she would be allowed to observe it anytime soon.
"You seem troubled, Master." She suddenly hears, making her turn her head to look at her faithful attendant, Apprentice Wong.
Wong. Another of the hopeful Sorcerer Supremes. Something she hopes does not come to pass. Because if Wong becomes the Sorcerer Supreme then it means that the Universe is in danger from multiple threats from within, and without.
Bringing her head down again, she stares at the Eye of Agamotto sitting on her table, and says, "Yes, I am troubled, you can say."
"Anything I can help with?" Wong asks, stepping into her office proper.
Tilda shakes her head, and sighs. She thinks for a few seconds as Wong pours her tea, and says, "For centuries now, the Eye has kept me abreast of future threats and opportunities. And now, it is refusing to help me understand if one particular child is a threat, or a future ally."
Wong nods slowly, taking the problem statement in, and then asks, "Does it show you if the Universe is in any danger in the upcoming years?"
Tilda's lips twitch in a wry smile, as she says, "The Universe is always in danger, dear Wong. But for the next 34 years, nothing will manage to actually cause us too much concern."
As long as things don't deviate, of course. Which is entirely possible.
Wong nods and says, "I believe, Master, that if the child was a true threat to the Universe, then the Eye would have shown you. Perhaps, whatever future holds for this child, we are not meant to know yet."
Tilda sighs, and asks, "I have considered it, Wong. But what if our ignorance costs us heavily? What if the child becomes our destruction."
"He could become our salvation just the same. We do not shape or manipulate the flow of time, we guard it. We preserve the natural order of things, not rewrite it." Wong immediately counters.
Tilda could see why Wong becomes the Sorcerer Supreme whenever Strange is indisposed.
"And if the Order is threatened by our inaction?" Tilda asks him.
Wong frowns, and says, "Then we deal with it once it is real. Our order does not deal with hypothetical threats."
Tilda chuckles, standing up. As Wong starts following her outside to the training grounds, she says, "Wise words, Apprentice Wong. Mine, thrown right back at me."
"I do strive to annoy you, Master. As my ancestors have done for the last 500 years." Wong says, somehow keeping a straight face for a few seconds before they both chuckle.
As Tilda starts observing the future Sorcerers train in the Arts, she accepts that Wong was right and allows herself to breathe freely.
Harry, or whatever Sorcerer he used to be, is not a threat as of now. Not her enemy.
And if he becomes one? Well, she is the Sorcerer Supreme. She had stared down Dormammu, Mephisto, Shuma Gorath, and Set and fought them all back. She can deal with one Sorcerer from the past.
——
31st July, 1991:
On a completely different continent from where Harry was, sat a tall and well built man on a throne. He was surrounded by his advisors, seated on their own smaller thrones, while a single bald woman kneeled in front of him, a spear resting by her side.
"Anything new to report, Aya?" The man asks, weariness colouring his voice.
The woman shakes her head, and says, "No, my King. We are still unable to find the identity of the thief. The scanners continue to sweep all continents, and the only hit we have is the American shield in the Arctic. As soon as we detect Vibranium outside of Wakandan hands, we will know."
T'Chaka, the King of Wakanda, sighs, and rises to his feet.As his feet take him towards the large window overlooking his nation, he says, "Two years."
A glared look from the Queen Ramonda silences any protest Aya was beginning to make, which T'Chaka doesn't see, but notices just the same.
He continues, "Two years spent chasing a ghost. And not a single trace has been found. Centuries ahead of the rest of the world we are, and we were defeated by a thief. The camera's caught nothing, the War dogs found nothing, and not even our satellites have anything."
Aya's jaw tightened, shame flickered in her eyes. Ignoring the Queen this time, she pleads, "Give me leave, my King, and I will go to London and hunt down the thief myself."
T'Chaka shakes his head, without ever turning around and asks, "Why? Just so you can fail again?"
This causes Aya to stand up with a start, her hands shaking, as tears enter her eyes. For Dora Milaje, a group trained to fight alongside Black Panthers, to have their strength questioned was the greatest disrespect. And to be done so by the King Himself? That was beyond shameful.
King T'Chaka raises his hand, silencing her unspoken words once again, as he says, "No, Aya. I do not mean to question your skills as a Dora Milaje. But this.. this thief is something else. Either he had plans for the Vibranium we cannot imagine and has already used it, or he is waiting for us to stop looking."
A beat of silence, before he says, "Keep the satellites active but withdraw our War Dogs from the Isle of England. The moment Vibranium appears outside our borders, I want to know."
He turns around and it is the Black Panther's hardened gaze which stares in Aya's eyes, as he says, "I will deal with the thief myself."
——
A/N: I think this is enough for this chapter. Felt a bit too long and too many things happening at once.
Well, three things. Three thoughts.
First is Edwyn, who is the empty portrait I mentioned in my first few chapters. I realized that having an ancient mentor is not Doom's style, he will prefer to solve his doubts himself. So yeah, new plot point, Magical portraits sleep for years at a time. Not canon, and not my headcanon as well. Just something I cooked up for this specific story.
(He was also brought in so I can explain the Crown. Original idea was for Edwyn to be a son of King Edward whom Edwyn I either saved from Edward or was asked to raise by the King because he was magical.)
Then Tilda, we take off from the last chapter now. Her thoughts, her introspection.
And finally T'Chaka. Mainly because I did not show if Harry's vibranium theft had any consequences. Whether they'll be an enemy, or if he'll convince them he is not a threat (hah, he definitely is) we'll see later.
It is a surprise for me as well for now.
Until then,
Keep reading!
Tata!