The Dissolution of Magick – Andrew Littler

Title: The Dissolution of Magick
Series: The Three Magicks #1

When Madeleine Maycott, a disillusioned historical consultant, stumbles upon a forgotten manuscript in an English airport café, she finds herself drawn into a past that won’t stay buried. Through the worn pages, she slips into the memories of Frances Bennett, a sharp-minded scribe navigating the dangerous twilight of England’s monastic age.

As King Henry VIII dismantles the monasteries and rewrites history, Frances is tasked with cataloguing sacred texts—only to uncover ones that were never meant to survive. Alongside the king’s agent, John Leland, and the enigmatic Father Iroh, Frances discovers books brimming with forbidden knowledge, ancient magick, and truths powerful enough to unravel empires.

Across time, Madeleine begins to question the world she thought she knew—and whether magick ever truly disappeared.

Blending historical fiction, arcane mystery, and quiet fantasy, The Dissolution of Magick is a haunting meditation on power, memory, and the stories we’re told to forget.

— I don’t know what just happened, one minute I was… me. In a cave underground. Standing, breathing, grounded, then… I woke up.

Only I didn’t.

I was awake, but not in the way that made sense. I was somewhere else, someone else. My thoughts were mine, but not all of them were. When I woke up, it was not me who had. I was awake, but I wasn’t me who had woken. Her name was… Frances? Our name? It felt like both of our names; I felt that I was Frances, but I also knew that was Madeleine.

Madeleine Catherina-Marie Maycott, to be precise.

We pulled ourselves to our feet — but they didn’t feel like mine. They didn’t feel like my feet at all. My hands did not look like my own when they picked up the book beside us. When I swung my arms forward, they weren’t mine, and when I stood up, I didn’t stand as tall as I remembered. When I stepped forward, I didn’t. When I didn’t step forward, I did. I was still in control of my body, but none of its movements felt like mine. I could look all about me, but nothing else did a lick of anything. My breath was steady, but the lungs were not mine.

It was like sleep paralysis, except my body kept moving. It just wasn’t me moving it, and it wasn’t really my body either. I could feel what she felt, I could feel that her feet had thinner ankles, callused doles, and did not have my preferred level of arch support.

My hands looked wrong. Narrower. Paler. Younger. When I flexed my fingers, they obeyed, but not the way I remember. Like the lag of a dream where your limbs forget their cues.

Her name was Frances. Frances Bennet.

The Dissolution of Magick is a richly layered historical fantasy that bridges modern-day academic malaise with the mysticism of England’s medieval past. Told primarily through the voice of Madeleine C.M. Maycott—a disillusioned creative consultant turned reluctant scholar—the story unfolds between airport lounges, windswept ruins, and cloistered priory libraries. When a mysterious manuscript pulls her into the memories of Frances Bennett, a young scribe entangled in the turbulent era of Henry VIII’s England, Madeleine finds herself caught between timelines, truths, and her own uncertain place in history.

As Frances navigates the perilous dissolution of monasteries under the watchful eye of royal agent John Leland, she uncovers suppressed texts, forgotten symbols, and unexpected allies—including the enigmatic Father Iroh, a monk whose wisdom and quiet defiance suggest deeper secrets. The narrative seamlessly blends archaeological intrigue, theological philosophy, and supernatural echoes, exploring the hidden threads of magick, belief, and resistance that have shaped England’s spiritual landscape.

At once a meditation on lost knowledge and a compelling story of two women divided by centuries yet bound by purpose, The Dissolution of Magick weaves past and present into a singular, haunting exploration of faith, power, and the stories history tries to bury.