The Prophecy

The Council of the Sacred Volcano | Intro 2

In one of the hanging rooms that seemed more like a library than a reception room, Manoël was wandering from shelf to shelf and from book to book. Even though he was used to the muffled atmosphere and the peculiar smell of library scrolls, he was impressed. Never before had he got the privilege of entering the private library of the Kings of the Walk of Prophecies. And it was immense. The number of documents piled up here was truly incalculable, both in number and in value. The burning desire to open one of these priceless gems was in his mind and he thought he would not be able to resist it for long.

In the middle of the room were large, comfortable armchairs that were conducive to reading, the invitation was too tempting. He grabbed a bound red leather manuscript and moved to one of the tall armchairs. As he walked around one of them and settled in it, he realized that he wasn't the only one who had the same idea. In another armchair, barely lit by a dim lamp, a man whose age he could not estimate, was avidly reading an apparently ancient volume whose bound papers were beginning to fall dangerously loose. He was Human, and Manoël retained an instinct of disgust that drove him to look for another place. The man looked up at him and, contrary to what Manoël might have expected, he smiled at him. 

_Hmmm, I see you've taken the Red. I didn't dare for my part. I was content with this report on the oral traditions and prophecies of the Northern region, he said with a voice that betrayed his desire for communication.

_ And it is ... interesting? Manoël replied as kindly as possible, happy that his interlocutor did not notice the movement of retreat that his presence had inspired.

_ Enough. Although I'm not learning anything I don't already know. I continue to read up on things in order to prepare for tomorrow's Council, he did as if to justify his curiosity.

_ I understand perfectly, I do the same.

The man smiled.

_ I didn't think you would want to. Your knowledge is great, as is your wisdom, Manoël Link.

Manoël was startled at the mention of his name.

_ You are very well known in research circles, the human continued, in all seriousness.

Manoël slightly blushed at the compliment, seating down in front of the man. The man closed the manuscript he had been reading and pushed it back onto the coffee table in front of him. He leaned over to Manoël, suggesting that he wanted to speak discreetly.

_ What do you think of all this? he murmured. This Council is very late in coming, I think. I'm not a Sage for my part, just a simple second-category Wizard, which doesn't prevent me from feeling when something is wrong. I know how to decipher the signs of nature like any other, but I don't understand at all where this is leading us! Maybe you could explain it to me, with all your knowledge, you must appraise the situation better than I do, I'm sure.

This new compliment pushed Manoël back into his entrenchment. He leaned against the soft back of his seat, hiding his face in a relative shadow. He didn't know how to interpret the situation. This man, this human he didn't know, seemed to know a lot about him. He looked at him, searching for his deepest motivations in the features of his face. Was it just a simple discussion, an exchange of ideas and opinions, or was it something else? An unpleasant impression gripped him. Like a breath of wind slipping through his thoughts, searching, probing... raping. The man, with all the power of his brown eyes, was trying to penetrate his mind!

The shock was violent for Manoël and he pushed the intruder back with all his power to the gates of his consciousness. A drop of sweat slipped, icy, along the elf's back. And now he remembered. While the expression "Second Category" had no meaning for him, the expression "Segundus Tempus", which this harmless term tried to hide, was much more meaningful! He had a magus of Segundus Tempus in front of him! It was one of the highest degrees in the organization of the Human Wise Men, who called themselves the "Domini Tempum"; the Masters of Time! What hubris! Manoël said to himself as he stared at the man as calmly as he could, while he tried to regain control of his thoughts. Now the rest was up to him. Either he would make the truth come out, showing that he could not be played with so easily, or he would dominate himself or he would dominate himself and seize the advantage that the discovery of man's true identity, and therefore of his motivations, gave him. This way he could perhaps learn what the wise Human men were up to. What their chief, Sältar the Willow, would advocate at the Council. In possession of this information before the opening of the Golden Gates, it could give Old Bear a head start. It was worth the effort.