The Forge of Aante'an(WIP)

Chapter One       
          Ducking under a low stone archway, a white haired elf stepped into a small circular room. The air was stale; the smell of mildew and mold was almost overpowering. Shelves filled with books lined the walls. The walls and shelves were layered with dust and mold, yet the books remained spotless. A magical protection kept the damp air from destroying them.
         A tiny desk held the book he had come to see. One of the servants had been sent before him to find it and lay it out. There was barely enough room between the desk and the wall for him to sit down. Holding his breath, he squeezed into the chair.
         Lucien pushed the crown of braided vines back on his head before resting his chin on his hand. The blooms on the vines were going through a continual cycle of life. Starting as buds, the flowers would bloom. Then they would wither and die, only to start the process all over again. 
         The king read the last page to himself. "I have no doubt now. Only a weapon of immense power will stop the coming catastrophe. It must be made in the Heresy Forge by a Son of Man, borne by an elf and tied to nature. I have spent the last ten years trying to see a way to stop this.  It seems that only the union of Mankind and Elf-kind will stop this calamity."
         The words on the page of the ancient text seemed to echo around the stone walled room the old elf was sitting in. He had a hard time believing that Man could help. Damascus clearly believed that "Man would be just as important as Elf" in stopping the end of the world.                         
         Lucien respectfully made his way out of the Library of the Magi, thanking the librarian on the way out the door. He snapped to his driver as he exited the building, tapping his foot in impatience as his carriage was pulled around. Jumping in, he thought over his current problem.
         Lucien had received a report that morning stating that new prophesies from Damascus had been found. An old beggar had been overheard raving about this hidden book that had been recently discovered. The beggar had gone on to speak about the book at length. He mentioned a Forge of the Heretic that was locked in Damascus’ fortress.
         These books allege that a forge lies at the base of his tower, awaiting the human capable of awaking the forge’s inner fire. The beggar went on to say that these books had been written by Damascus, over one hundred years after his death.
         Upon hearing this, Lucien ordered his guard to apprehend the beggar for questioning. Unfortunately, the beggar was nowhere to be found when the guard arrived.
         One of the king’s advisors had reminded him about Damascus’ last known book. It had been named the Heresy Chronicles. Lucien hurried down to the Library of the Magi in hopes of refreshing his memory of the books contents.
         Prophesy was extremely dangerous in the wrong hands. It was possible to force a prophesy into being. It was also possible to misinterpret the prophesy’s true meaning. That was the reason that it was only taught to the royal family and the higher Magi. The information being bled into the streets, if true, could be disastrous.
         The carriage pulled into the courtyard where a page jumped to open the door. Lucien left a standing order with the guard not to be disturbed. Arriving at his conference room, he shoved the double doors open. He noted the books and papers spread across the massive oak table that dominated the room.