This is the story of Nicolas Flamel, maker of the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.
There h...
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As we entered the fifteenth century, peace was never further from us. Together, we sought to destroy the haunting beast called the Night Mare, the product of my experiments with the Elixir of Life, which had bred and was wreaking havoc across Europe.
Then more came of my rival's impact on Peverell. In her absence, Peverell raised their son and sired for him two brothers from different bloodlines. I watched from afar, as the Peverell sons coveted the three precious magical artifacts — the stone, the cloak, and the wand — that their father had promised to give them when they came of age. When the eldest, Antioch, discovered where their father had hidden the items, he attempted to take his birthright. Peverell denied them access. He was then slain by his sons. And soon after taking possession of the artifacts without earning the necessary respect to wield such powerful magic, each of them subsequently lost their lives.
Word of their antics and deaths spread through the wizarding world and combined with the mystery of my everlasting life, which was also widely disbelieved. As a way to stop others from breaking magical law, and to teach morality to young witches and wizards through fable, the rumors of the Peverell sons found its way into text. Within The Tales of Beedle the Bard, our shared story became the myth of the Deathly Hallows, that if one were to possess all three, they could have power over death itself. Myth based on fact, but myth nonetheless — a reminder that the reckless legend of Sacredoon hovered in wait for me alone.
Our lives were solitary at this time. We went unrecognized, as our friends aged and our families perished. All but forgotten, we decided to begin a new life. Together, Perenelle and I cared for the weak and the excluded. And in doing so, we harnessed formulas and healing potions to extend life using as little magic as possible.
And not unlike before, I became widely famous and was invited to receive honors at the Alchemical Gathering, yet again.
The life of distinction and renown was unfulfilling, as I knew it would be, and when we opened an apothecary at 95 Diagon Alley, I realized why. We wanted children. We saw them each year, as they prepared to attend Hogwarts School. They had more life in their eyes than Perenelle and I had experienced in over a hundred years. But our dreams could not be fulfilled, for what if the elixir running through our veins would disrupt our child's aging process? Or, more frightening than that, what if our offspring could never die?
So, with great sorrow, we resigned ourselves to a lonely, yet peaceful life.
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