The Three Kings: The Hunt

Disclaimer (1): Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Systems, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.

Disclaimer (2): Golden Gate Park belongs to the city of San Francisco. The UCSF Medical Center is affiliated with the University of California.

Warning: Mentions of character death, gore, kidnapping, and alcoholism.

Epilogue: The Final Hour

On Tilla's command, Depre had sent up the signal for retreat, a flash of yellow sparks that lit up the sky. They didn't have a choice. After everything that had happened in the last ten minutes - the collapse of the barrier burning out their reserve, the hurricane that threw their ground force around like rag dolls, the crippling, inexplicable loss of the dementors - they'd lost more than three quarters of their numbers. The Department couldn't keep up this seize. It was time to go home.

Besides, they'd already got what they came here for. Keith had dragged in Solomon Mutuo, bruised and broken but miraculously alive, so there isn't much more of a reason to stay. So Tilla send up the call for retreat a second time, hoping that those who missed it at first would see it now, would come to the Oakland beaches to-

Lightning lances down from the sky, into the hills of San Francisco. Clean surgical strikes, one after the other, and Tilla knows that no one else is coming.

We've done enough. Captured nearly fifty mages and their ilk. We've done enough and I want to go home, she thinks. Depre stands beside her and his quiet is calming, enough to keep her from shaking. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye and something in him shifts.

It's a persona he was given for a mission a few years back, a pickpocket with a heart of gold who'd infiltrated the magical antiquities black market. Tilla doesn't even remember this one's name, but she knows that crooked grin and the Cockney accent.

"It's alright, darling," he closes his hand around her's. "We're all safe now. They can't touch us here."

Don't. Please, don't. They broke Depre so much that he couldn't even emote without slipping into the guise of someone else. But he's trying, Merlin, he's trying and that scares Tilla, because she appreciates it more than anything in the world.

Coppermine appears behind them and Depre drops back into himself, his hand leaving her's cold and clammy as he takes it back. Beside Depre is Jeremy Cooper, one of the Plants that she's sent after Kitamori. She catches his eye and he transmits a memory of the girl's body, of the deaths of the other Plants. Kitamori had put up more of a fight than Tilla had expected, but in the end, she'd fallen like any other target. Tilla nods at Jeremy, giving him a pulse of satisfaction.

"Reiko's dead," Coppermine's voice is terribly sad and there are red rings around his eyes. He's been crying. "We… we found her on the street. They took her head off. I - we…" he looks at Jeremy, "we brought her back. We just leave her there, I couldn't…"

"It's okay. It'll be okay," she pulls him into a hug. The boy had cared for Kitamori and he's mourning the loss of a girl he never truly knew. Tilla had long since came to terms with the fact that she needed to tell Keith, possibly even Pegasus, about the truth, but if she she could spare him, she'd keep Coppermine in the dark.

"Lew's dead, too," Keith says, appearing from nowhere. He doesn't look all too disheartened by the news of Kitamori's death, just bone tired. "Idiot ran into an army of Jacques ink creatures. Torn him and his people apart like dogs."

"I'm sorry. I know he was important to you," Tilla says. She may not like Keith, but she's not completely heartless.

"We got Mutuo, though," he shrugs, pulling a flask out of his coat pocket and taking a few swigs. "At least that's something."

"We got Jacques as well," Tilla says and Keith spits out his drink.

"You're shitting me," he gaps. "Matthew Jacques fell?"

"Latner got him. Apparently, the battle leveled a good chunk of Golden Gate Park. Her friend's dead, too. You know, the one she was always with," Tilla struggles to remember the name she'd been given at the start of the day. "Nat, she called her. Natasha Whicker."

"Merlin," Keith swears and runs a hand through his hair. "Let's get out of here."

Latner's co-worker, Gerrish, is in charge of the prisoners that they're sending to the island for processing. There's fifty of them, bound and Cuffed; some are awake and some aren't. Those that can stand huddle protectively around those who can't. Tilla spots Mokuba Kaiba amongst the crown, hovering protectively over an unconscious Jacques.

Gerrish sends someone over to grab Kaiba, but the boy snaps, leaps into action and attempts to strangle the witch with the chain between his wrists. Three Unspeakables fire off Stunners and the kid collapses next to Jacques.

"Fuck," Coppermine lets out a low whistle. "Take back whatever I said about muggles. That guy's crazy. You should have seen him when he was riding the black dragon."

"You're lucky to be alive," Jeremy Cooper says. He turns to Tilla, "Look, I'm gonna go check in with my crew. I'll see you around?"

"Thank you for today. I know it couldn't have been easy," she says, shaking his hand. Cooper shrugs and smirks before lumbering off into the crowd.

When they get back to the island, Keith heads off to file his report to Pegasus. When Tilla follows him, he raises an eyebrow at her.

"There's something you need to know," she says grimly, and that's that.

She breaks the news in Keith's office, in front of Pegasus, who initially dismisses her theory off hand. But then she pulls up the memory Jeremy gave to her, showing them the chaos that this little girl had caused, and they have no choice but to believe her.

Keith is silent and pale as a ghost. His hands are shaking uncontrollably and he isn't looking at anyone in the room. Finally, Pegasus breaks the silence.

"Come with me," his voice is cold, final, deadly. And for all that he disgusts Tilla, she knows that she wouldn't want to get into a fight with this man. "Get your team and come with me."

Pegasus corners Latner the moment he finds her. The girl is sitting alone on a balcony overlooking the waves crashing against the western cliff, her head in her hands.

"Did you know?" He snaps, eyes like steel.

"Know what?" She answers, a poor attempt at her usual sass and flippancy. He voice gave away how tired she was, though. Latner keeps rubbing the palm of her wand hand, looking smaller than usual, like she was in terrible pain. Tilla remembers that she'd lost a friend taking in Matthew Jacques and almost feels sorry for her.

"Reiko Kitamori. Did you know that she was a Plant?" Pegasus hisses.

Latner quickly glances at Tilla, looking from her to Coppermine to Scott and Keith, "This isn't a conversation that they need to hear."

"Fuck you," Pegasus growls. "They deserve to hear this as much as I do, so don't you dare tell me what they should and shouldn't know. I'll have your head on a spike for his if you're involved in any way, and I'll make as many enemies as I have to to do it. Look me in the eye and say that I won't. Did you know about Reiko Kitamori?"

Latner sighs, any levity that she had in her dropping away. Tilla thinks she looks old, far older than her face suggests her age is.

"Sit," she motions towards the chairs around the table she's claimed as her own. "This is going to take a while."

Tilla eases into her seat, muscles screaming in protest. Depre sits on her right, Keith on her left. Pegasus remains standing, looming over Latner like the hand of God.

"Did I know that she was a Plant? Yes," Latner admits. "Is she mine? No."

"Do you know who's she is?" Pegasus tries his best to keep his voice level.

Latner snorts, "You know I know it's been a while for you, but I actually am surprised that you didn't recognize her. Actually, who am I kidding? Of course you didn't."

"What bile are you spouting now?" Pegasus asks.

"She's not one of mine. She's one of yours," Latner chuckles humourlessly at Pegasus's stock. "Well, not really. The woman you knew as Reiko Kitamori hasn't been under your command for a long, long time, but you were in charge of her training. Plant #1,014. Are you seriously telling me that you don't remember that little girl?"

Tilla notes two things of importance in that instant. The first being Kitamori's Plant code. She knows that Depre's is #85,470M; the number indicating that there were over eighty seven thousand four hundred and sixty nine Plants before him, the letter indicating his sex. But if Reiko Kitamori had been introduced into the program early enough not to receive a letter, early enough to be in the first thousand, then she must have been a hundred years old. Then Pegasus must be just as old, if not older to have trained her.

The second thing is how Pegasus's shoulders tense as his hand twitches towards his left forearm.

"That's… that's not possible. They said she was dead," Pegasus sputters.

"Not possible? Maxie, honey, we work for the Department of Mysteries. And you're honestly surprised that someone lied to you?" Latner laughs, "You think too much of yourself." She pauses, glancing vaguely towards the sea, before refocusing on her explanation. "But you made your choice. You chose the boy, sent him off into the world, and sent his sister into hell to keep him from going off mission. Except, you wanted to keep #1,014, didn't you? You wanted her all to yourself. That's why you didn't even consider choosing her. She hated you, though. Enough to try and escape the moment she could get away from you.

"Except, you weren't the only one watching her. The Department Head saw her talent, saw it in a way you never could. So the Head took her, trainer hed, and created Kiyoshi."

Tilla's heart stops.

"Kiyoshi's a legend. There's… there's no way," Coppermine stutters from where he's sitting. "Reiko… Reiko couldn't be…"

"A master at the silent Killing Curse and broomless aerial combat? Yeah, she is. Kiyoshi is able to hit a moving target nearly five kilometers away while in the middle of disapparating," Latner continues. "She's gone on four hundred and thirty-three assassination missions over the last hundred years, and she has completed every single one. She's done over twenty deep cover missions and knows more than I ever will. I may be the Head's right hand woman, but Kiyoshi is the most capable Plant that the Department has ever created. She's the shadowy figure just off to the left."

"What was she doing here?" Pegasus asks, looking stricken.

"I have no idea," Latner shook her head. "I really don't, I'm not lying here." She sighs, "Ariana Dumbledore. Mala Pukar. Countless others. If there was a problem that we couldn't handle through normal means, we gave them to Kiyoshi. And she went out and did what she did best. Until one day, she didn't.

"It was a routine mission, nothing special about it. In Germany, I think - just over twenty years ago. We'd sent her to kill a Curse-Breaker there, one that was looking too closely into Gellert Grindelwald, into his history. And then… nothing. There was nothing, she just disappeared. No apparition trail, no magical signature, no body, no sign of a struggle. We never found out what happened to her, so we listed her MIA. We'd all given up hope until Nat and I walked into your office and there she was."

"But who sent her? Who's she reporting to?" Pegasus leaned forward anxiously.

"Honestly? I don't think anyone sent her. I think she's gone completely off the book and running her own show. Which begs the question, what was she doing here?" Latner stops suddenly and without warning. "Who recommended her for this team?"

"Keith came to me with recommendations," Pegasus frowns.

"But how did you know to pick her?" Latner rounds on Keith. "Who told you about her?"

"I did," Coppermine says, shaken.

Latner stands suddenly, turning to Pegasus, "Get me his file. Now."

Pegasus calls upon an aging, ugly house elf, who hands her a stack of papers. She glances over them before throwing them in Pegasus' face, "I don't have time for this, Maxie! His real file, damn it!"

The elf produces a second file, slimmer than the last, and covered in a green folder. Something about it makes Tilla's skin crawl. She's seen green folders like that before at the Gardens, but only at a distance in a room that she'd never been allowed into.

Latner flips through the pages before taking one out and shoving it under Pegasus's nose. Tilla can't see what is it, but Pegasus clearly can - she knows because the man's face loses all of its colour.

"She got him young, must have implanted the idea somewhere in his subconscious. And, Merlin, she knew that you'd be in charge of this mission, if it was ever deemed necessary - middle management dotes on you, because you were the last to join up. Kiyoshi knew, she's had to have known - so when the assignment went out for San Francsico, she sent the kid straight towards the mission commander, all to recommend her. For fucks sake, who brings a historian into an active warzone?" Latner practically shouts.

Beside Keith, Coppermine is muttering, "I don't know what she's talking about. I never saw Reiko, not before I came here. I swear, I never met her - I don't know what she's talking about."

Keith lays a hand on his knee, a solemn attempt at comfort. Coppermine starts to cry.

"Kiyoshi played you like a fiddle. She had everything under control. Whatever it was that tipped you off to her, I bet she planned that too. Knew exactly what to show to give herself away, to blow her cover. I bet it was you who spotted it, didn't you?" Latner turns to Tilla, "You worked in the Gardens long before coming here. She played you, too. What did you do, send some Plants after her?"

"They killed her, though. Kitamori - Kiyoshi, whatever her name is - her body's in the morgue. She's dead," Tilla says.

"Are you sure about that?"

"You don't survive getting your head blown off," Tilla snaps.

Latner shakes her head, "That's not what I'm saying." She laughs, high and heartless. "You honestly believe, after everything I've told you, that Kiyoshi went into a twenty year deep-cover mission, purposefully tipped you off to her, and then was dumb enough to die in a battle against a bunch of amateurs. Are you seriously stupid enough to believe that that's her lying headless in your morgue?"

"Prove it," Keith says, eyes daring.

"Show me the body," Latner says in return.

The morgue is two floors up and down a hall. The witch working there shows them to a table where a large blanket covers a corpse. She pulls back the cloth, revealing the red stump of a neck.

"That's her," Keith says. And of course, he'd know what Kitamori looked like naked. He's probably staring at some birthmark or beauty spot Tilla can't see. "Polyjuice potion wears off after an hour, even in death."

"No, it doesn't," Latner shakes her head. "The stuff I can make lasts a month. And Kiyoshi was always better at potions than me."

Tilla watches as she waves her wand over the body, making concentric circles while muttering in Latin and Greek. A glowing pale yellow strand follows the path of her wand, sinking slowly into the corpse below. Then, suddenly, Latner yanks her wand back and pulls. A bright red liquid, too light to be blood, begins to leak from the corpse's stump.

The body twists, shifts, and becomes a man. Latner swirls her wand again and the pale image of a face rests where the head should be.

Tilla gasps, "That's-"

"Jeremy," Coppermine stammers. "Merlin's beard, she saved me."

"When was the time of death?" Latner asks the mortician.

"Mid-morning. Around… ten o'clock."

"So right after the barrier went up," Latner nods. "Jeremy - your Plant, I'm assuming," she glances at Tilla, "never made it out of his confrontation with Kiyoshi. He died and she took his place."

"But… why?" Coppermine asks, broken.

Latner looks directly at Pegasus, staring him down with cold, deadly fury. "I don't know," she says, clearly lying. "Why do you think she's doing this, Maxie?"

Pegasus says nothing, just scowls and walks out of the morgue, Tilla looks at Latner, who's shaking her head again.

"What now?" Keith asks.

Latner looks up at him. There's something in her gaze, something sad and old and tired. "You… you and your team… You should know that she's more than what I said. I wanted to piss Pegasus off, wanted to get him angry, so I didn't say all that I could. Kiyoshi… Kitamori - she's a person, under it all. She's capable of so much. Friendship, love, companionship, compassion. When she comes, I don't think she'll hurt you. No…" Latner looks away, "she definitely won't want to hurt you."

She closes her eyes, breathes for a moment, and walks towards the door. Latner glances back before she leaves, "You should be wary of Pegasus, though. He's proud - stupid, but proud. He's bound to do something rash, sooner rather than later. And if Kiyoshi is doing what I think she's doing, you don't want to waste your time trying to save him. Don't get in her way. Run. And don't look back."

That's the last they see of Trista Latner for a long time.

Bakura stumbles into UCSF Medical Center. Both he and Amanda are supporting Duke, which isn't going very well considering that he's close to six feet tall and wearing several pounds of fire retardant gear. But Duke passed out from exhaustion about a mile out, so they've been carrying him the entire way. A very exhausted looking nurse takes him from them once they get past the army of corpses guarding the building, laying him down on a bed and pressing her stethoscope to his chest. They seem to have gotten the electricity back on.

"Amanda! Oh, oh god!" Tea Gardner races past Bakura, slamming into the young Spellcaster and kisses her full on the mouth. "You're alive! When I heard about Matthew, I thought - I thought-"

"I'm alright," Amanda presses her face into her girlfriend's shoulder. "I love you. I love you." She's crying.

"Bakura! Over here!" He turns towards the beds and sees Joey laying in one of them. They've got him on an IV drip and there's machines monitoring his heart rate, but otherwise, he seems okay. Mai, Serenity, and Haley are all sitting next to him. Serenity's grasp on her brother's hand is so tight, Bakura can see the whites of her knuckles.

"Hey," Bakura breathes from the foot of the bed, gripping Joey's ankle. "What happened to you?"

"Hit the barrier. Fell," Joey shrugs then winces in pain. "They got Mokuba. Took him. I don't know if he's… Seto's gonna kill me."

"No, he won't," Mai tries to reassure him, but to no avail.

"I'd kill me, if it was any of you," Joey sighs, then attempts a smile in Bakura's direction. "But you though, pulling out all the stops. Don't think I didn't notice you dropping a storm on us or ripping a hole between dimensions. Saved our asses, you did."

"Are you okay?" Serenity asks, the fingers of her free hand twitching towards the sound of Bakura's voice. He takes them, lets her See some of the happier memories that had been knocked loose by his unleashing the Ring's power, then let's go before she Sees anything else.

"Could have been worse," he says. "Has Tristan checked in yet?"

Their faces say it all. Mai stands, puts an arm around his shoulder, and tells her daughter that she'll be right back, so listen to Serenity, okay? There's a small moment of joy where Joey pretends to be offended that he wasn't put in charge, but it died in Bakura's heart when he sees them.

Rex and Rebecca are clutching at each other in a corner next to their adoptive parents. Tristan is nowhere to be seen and neither is Weevil. Bakura's heart sinks.

Rebecca sees him first, or maybe she just senses him; it doesn't matter, though. He feels awful. Keith had warned him specifically about how the Department would be targeting him. He should have gone himself. He should have been there, but he was cocky and too sure of himself. Bakura fucked up and this was the consequence that he would have to live with.

"You're going to get him back, right?" Rebecca asks, eyes pleading. "You'll get him back?"

"Rebecca-" Mina Simmington starts, but she's cut off by Rex.

"You saved us. You can do anything. You'll… you can…" Bakura watches as his eyes begin to water. "It's my fault. I should have gone with him. I should have fought, too."

"This is no one's fault but those who attacked us," Bakura says, trying to sound like the legend he's supposed to be. "This is no one's fault but those who refuse to let us live."

"The moment we know where they are is the moment we start planning to get them back," Mai says sternly. Bakura nods along beside her, about to say something, when a hush falls over the ER.

There, at the entrance, is Seto Kaiba. And at his side is the Atem.

Bakura doesn't even realize that he's moved until he's halfway across the room. He's can't stop staring, can't close his mouth after his jaw dropped open. She's beautiful, all alarming red hair and dark skin and widening purple eyes, stolen clothes hanging off her frame, two sizes too big. He's so caught up in it all that remembering his promise to Yuugi Mutuo physically jars him out of his stupper.

"I…" he starts, not sure how to proceed. Bakura's standing right in front of her, close enough to touch, but he doesn't dare.

He watches Atem swallow, her eyes an inch above his, "You were right."

"I was?" He frowns.

She smirks, shrugging, "It hurt."

He smiles, understanding that Yuugi is still there, just like Ryou is apart of him, somewhere underneath everything. Atem wraps her arms around him and Bakura leans into her and for a moment everything is okay.

This, of course, does not last.

A cry goes out from the corpses outside as they burst into flames. Both Atem and Bakura react, pushing Seto behind them and calling upon their power to defend against whoever was out there.

A Japanese witch walked through the flames, small and slight, with long black hair and fierce eyes. In each hand, she held a wand. Atem tenses beside him, ready to burst forth with incredible speed and-

The witch tosses her wands at their feet, gets down on her knees, and holds her hands high in the air.

"My name is Reiko Kitamori," she says. "And I surrender myself to whoever is in charge."

Solomon shares a cell with a young boy named Mokuba, who apparently took a class that his granddaughter had taught the year before. He's nice, kind, and familiar in a way that makes Solomon think that this is Monthu, his grandson, from all those years ago.

It's probably for the best that neither of them confirms anything. For all either of them knows, the wizards have placed listening spells in their cell and can hear everything they're saying. Solomon doesn't want to give away the secret of cycling - of course, that's assuming that they didn't know already.

So they talk about mundane things, just to pass the time. Something tells them that these wizards are in no hurry to start killing them. Killing was so much easier than subduing, so why go through the extra effort? Mokuba moves closer and tries his best to set the bones that Solomon's broken.

This goes on for a while, though he has no idea how long. Eventually, a witch comes to their cell. She has straw blonde hair and tired eyes. There's a man behind her, a bulky black boy that hovers protectively at her shoulder.

"Solomon Mutuo," the witch calls. He sighs and tries to stand.

Mokuba jumps into action, getting in between him and the witch. The wizard in the back puts his hand on his wand. Solomon puts his hand on Mokuba's shoulder and shakes his head.

"It's okay," he says. Mokuba turns to him, an expression of terrible worry on his face, and squeezes his eyes shut. The boy nods solemnly and sits back down.

Solomon limps out of the cell, stumbling slightly because his legs burn with pain. The witch rolls her eyes and taps him with her wand, muttering a word beneath her breath. The pain begins to ebb away.

"Thank you, my dear," he says, determined to be polite all the way to the end. "Was that spell in Greek?"

The witch blinks, shock gracing her features for a second, "Yes…?"

"Interesting. I was under the impression that most of your kind used Latin spells. Unless…" He tilts his head to the side, gazing at her as they walk towards a set of stairs, "...is Latin for battle? And Greek for… healing, perhaps?"

"What is it to you?"

"Nothing, I suppose. Just a scholar's curiousity," Solomon smiles at her, receiving a puzzled look in return.

They lead him into a room furnished only with a wooden table and a pair of chairs, one on either side. They sit Solomon down in one, locking the chain to the small ring of steel nailed into the table, and leave him alone.

He sits there, focusing on his breathing. He's never been much of a fighter. To be honest, he'd fully expected to die in that fire than the Unspeakable had created. But he didn't, and now he has to deal with the consequences of his survival.

A man enters the room. He looks to be about a decade younger than Solomon, with salt and pepper hair tied in a horse tail at the back of his neck. He sits down in the other chair and stares at Solomon. So Solomon stares back.

This continues on for several minutes, until a drip of sweat rolls down the man's temple. Then, suddenly, he leaps out of his seat, slams his fists down on the table, and yells, "Jacques!"

He grabs Solomon by the sides of his head, forcing him across the table, "Damn it, damn it! He's protecting you, too! Can't get in - can't - he's got his thrice damned mages gods protecting you! I'm not stupid, I know what you're hiding!" The man spits in Solomon's face as he screams, "You stole the Pharaoh's Pendant! You walked in and took it! You know how-"

The man shoves him away, his chest heaving. He shouts, "I will not continue to be made a fool of."

He slams the door behind him, leaves Solomon to collect himself and wait.

There's a terrible scream. And then-

At exactly 4:04p.m. UTC, a series of events occur around the world.

Bakura and Atem shudder and gasp, weakened terribly from their fight, and fall to their knees.

A man laying in bed shakes and shivers, rolling over and throwing up into a bucket off to the side. It's not the first time today and his older brother holds back what is left of his hair.

Two people, one dead and one very much alive, continue to clutch at each other with fear, not knowing what has happened, but scared regardless.

Albus Dumbledore sits in his office, breathing hard enough to force his head between his knees. He's thrown his wand in a corner, hoping that some distance will give him some relief.

A shattered mess of a soul screams inside the body of Quirinus Quirell as the man yelps and claws at his face.

A diary belonging to a former Hogwarts prefect flips into the air, causing a clatter as it falls to the floor.

A mystical ring of unearthly power jerks wildly, rolling right off of the rotting kitchen table it was resting on.

A locket hidden within a dresser drawer in London rattles so hard that it wakes house elf living in the basement.

A cup, hidden deep inside a Gringotts vault, clatters on the marble floor and knocks into a golden plate, causing it to multiply by two and four and eight.

A beautiful diadem rattles on the floor, skittering across the room.

A boy with green eyes and a lightning scar wonders what's happening to him as he sits on his bed inside the cupboard under the stairs, pale and gaunt with dread.

And finally, a woman with thick red hair and blue eyes pauses as she comforts Trista Latner, shivers and says, "Good god. What has he done?"

-Then, the door slams back open. And Solomon knows true horror.

It's the same man, only it's not. Whatever sanity he'd had is long gone because the left side of his face is covered in blood. He's holding a red, red knife in one hand and his wand in another. His salt and pepper hair has been pulled from its tie and hangs loosely around his face.

Beneath his bangs, there is a glint of terrible gold.

"Now, Solomon Mutuo, let's see what it is you know."

The End

And thus, Hunt comes to a close.

This is normally where I say thanks to all those who reviewed for the last chapter. But this time, I'm going to do something a little different. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed for The Three Kings: Hunt since the very beginning:

InsanityByDefinition, Kumagawa 'Godlike' Misogi, Rita Mu, dragomira, ranchan-akari, anita15, Pischaw, RogueDragonPrincess, green lilah, Aqua Burst 07, 1, Tz342, FangirlKatydid, dominique,engome, Dana Sto Helit, Dark-heika, YamiLuna, Devil Reader, Uryuu-Nipaa, Aurora Jetstream, Deer-Shifter, Gamma Cavy, The Truth of Words, isis424, thli1693, MyEyesOnew, MusingAIR, AngelofAngles, Eliphas-Chaos, Vladimir the Hamster, alyabunny, Emori Loul, TCOGS, Ren Tsune, vorpalreven, Fulgadrome, and CrimsonStrawberry17.

Thank you to all of those who favourited this story or put in on story alert.

And most importantly, thank you to you all for sticking with me through three years of on and off writing, over 120k of words, and eighteen chapters of madness. It feels like forever since I started writing this because so much has happened since December 26th, 2013 - I've dropped out of university, graduated college, had four different jobs, started a career - and yet you've all stuck with me through all of that. I only hope that, going forwards, you will continue to do that because it means so much to me.

I leave you all for now with a exert from the prologue chapter of Strike, which will be the second book in the Three Kings series. The first part of the prologue comprises of an essay written by a wizarding historian in the making and this is a small paragraph coming from the section titled 'Questioning the Statute':

Mage history is a controversial topic amongst many wizarding historians, with some refusing to even believe that it is a worthy field of study at all. And while it is true that there is very little about mages that has been published, most of those books are heavily biased and describe them as vicious, solo creatures with nothing but murder on their minds. In his book, The Mage Menace, author James Andrews puts forth the idea that mages are an offshoot of wizarding magic that went terribly wrong, possibly through experimentation with soul-based magic. There are a few who believe that mages have been wrongfully persecuted throughout history, though these people are usually told to keep their mouths shut or risk being whisked away in the middle of the night for being blood traitors. But regardless of the beliefs of wizarding kind, one thing about mages can be said for certain: mages existed in the early 1600s. And they hated us.

Until next time,

AlcatrazOutpatient