Balor spent a lot of time around Petrah, surveying their crystal-shattering activities for a few decades. Major progress was being made in mining of what the Petrahns called ‘The Sky Stone,’ which contained the energy that they called ‘The Source.’

  Balor’s magics operated with a simple law of conservation. The Source was their name for soul matter, and it was ultimately a finite amount allocated for Veilthorn. The Source could not be created nor destroyed; the crystalline lattice that compressed soul matter, which they called The Sky Stone, was simply a container for The Source.

  Drawing The Source out of a Sky Stone involved a specialized organ in the brainstem that the word seed evolved in these hominids. Petrahns also believed in the sanctity of the body, and in the absence of dissections, they didn’t know the existence of this organ. Any living thing with such an organ could mix The Source into its bloodstream. The energy became part of their circulation, regulated by that brain stem organ.

  Petrahns found many ways to draw the power from Sky Stone. They had two main approaches, one destructive and the other non-destructive. In a destructive absorption process, the Sky Stone was consumed. They shattered it into smaller bits, powdered it, stabbed themselves with the sharp shards, or outright ate them. In non-destructive means, they could draw power through the ambience, or by skin contact. This preserved the drained crystalline container.

  A few individuals discovered how they could push The Source back into the empty crystals through a method of meditation. Thus, Petrahns had been the first ones to recognize the importance of preserving the Sky Stone as energy storage.

  Destructive methods still had their uses. If one required a lot of The Source in a hurry, they couldn’t rely on ambience or touching a stone; they had to mix as much as possible with whatever means available to them.

  Observing them discovering magics the way he intended, Balor felt happy for the first time in thousands of years. So far, he’d been operating with cold efficiency, making sure he left no gap for the corrupted Seedmaker to surface. That first experiment fiasco had driven all his curiosity and wonder away from him. The crystal shatterers of Petrah had reignited that spark in him.

  It is with this spirit that he almost got caught by one of them.

  He was walking around invisible in a mine shaft when a particularly old Petrahn came in with a group of armed men. They all used various magics to seal off the area and started looking for something that the old one had detected.

  At first, Balor thought it was some hominid problem; there surely were Sky Stone thieves. That wasn’t the case. The old man drew The Source from a crystal and somehow channeled his powers to his eyes. They glowed silver like a pair of stars, and he pointed directly at Balor and screamed for others to attack.

  Balor had to paralyze all of them with the blue assimilation glow from his eyes. Taking his chance, he decided to assimilate with one of them, and there was no better choice than the old man.

  He grabbed him and turned him into his personal soul matter, quickly transforming into his shape while dispersing excess soul matter into the surrounding air.

  His name was Farador, Son of Kornicor, one of the founding fathers of Petrah.

  This could be a mistake. He seems too important to assimilate. I cannot afford to alter choices that he would’ve made.

  Because Farador was the very best friend of the current ruler of Petrah, Valder the Sovereign. This was the equivalent of him assimilating Carther in the previous experiment. Farrador was someone that he had to observe and nudge from a fairly insignificant side figure.

  But now, he’d become him.

  Balor woke up in the infirmary after pretending to be unconscious for a while. His mage guards had woken up in the middle of the cave they raided, looking for a dangerous intruder, and they found him lying limply on the ground.

  They had hurriedly carried him to the best Petrahn healer, and despite the woman’s best efforts at using the Source to restore him, Balor kept absorbing her Source until she gave up. He wanted to solidify the fact that something had gone medically wrong with Farrador.

  I need an excuse to be alone for a while until I figure out what to do with this situation!

  After a few hours of pretending to be half dead, he woke up with a gasp in the dead of night.

  “Oh dear gods!” The healer woman jolted awake, having fallen asleep next to him with a silver tray full of Sky Stone that she intended to eat to try new methods to restore him. “Master Farrador! what a relief!” she said, hurriedly standing up. She was a middle-aged woman, clad in a soft cotton outfit that fit her line of work.

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  “Water…” Farrador said, extending his old hand at the bedside cabinet.

  The healer woman, whom Farrador knew as Larnia, rushed over to pour a tall crystal cup for him. He drank several gulps and handed the glass back to her.

  “W-what happened, Master? I was worried! I tried everything, but nothing worked. I thought you got Source poisoning!” Larnia asked, patting her chest.

  “I met great evil in the caves. I must talk to Valder, please send for him,” Farrador said, leaning forward to get off the bed.

  “Not one step out of the bed, Master!” Larnia pushed him back, excused herself, and ran away to get the guards.

  Balor needed to see Valder the great, the direct descendant of the great crystal shatterer, Karvok. This duo wasn’t like Carther and Haelbrad. They had a different approach to ruling their kingdom for the best interests of its citizens. Balor saw the seeds of brilliant plans that Farrador had come up with for Valder. They were both equally wise beyond their years, since the day they were born.

  Valdeer, the ruler of Petrah, came in a hurry through the thick wooden door of the infirmary. His guards followed him one by one, panting as they caught up to an old man with gray hair.

  “Farrador, I thought you were gone for sure this time!” Valder said, patting Farrador on the shoulder. In his memories, Valder was the more outgoing type. He had a commanding presence about him that made people fall in line with a word out of his mouth.

  They had both been equally intelligent their entire lives, but Valder became the ruler because he was the one who had the drive to become one. Farrador slid towards a hermit lifestyle, his only concern being the maintenance of the Sky Stone mines.

  “I have ten more years of myself left, thank you,” Farrador said as his old friend sat on the chair nearby. Despite their casual remarks, he could tell Valder was shaken by the condition that Balor pretended to have.

  “Here’s to ten more years then,” Valder chuckled, squeezing Farrador’s old hand with his. “You may serve Petrah yet. I’m very pleased to see you awake and well.”

  Balor had to pick his words and behaviors very carefully. He hadn’t been Farrador for long, and two people who have known each other for decades knew each other’s nuances like no other. He could pass some weirdness off as being under the weather after what happened, but he had been under the weather a hundred different times. Valder had been there for all of them.

  “You mentioned something about meeting a demon? Larnia told me something like that, I don’t know if she heard you correctly,” Vlder asked, looking at his old friend with worry.

  “I didn’t say demon, I did say great evil,” Farrador eyed Larnia, who was flushing a shade of pink. She had always been more scared of Valder than she was of Farrador. “…though what I met could be categorically a demon.”

  “What does it mean, friend?” Valder asked. “What did you meet? a person? a new life form? I’ve sent the elite guard to comb that mine shaft inside and out. No reports so far.”

  “It is an elusive being, one that perhaps came out of the Source itself. I only saw its shadow. A towering ghastly figure,” Farrador coughed for effect. Balor found it amusing to describe himself through the old man.

  “Oh heavens,” Valder rubbed his forehead. “One more problem to the sea of problems. Source demons, and here I thought I’ve seen everything!”

  “There is always more unseen to be seen,” Farrador said.

  “Wise words, old friend, wise words,” Valder sighed. “I can suggest you to take a break, don’t do raids on your own. But I know who you are. You’re going back in there as soon as you get some life in those legs.”

  “I might need to take some time, friend,” Farrador said, Balor taking the route that Farrador wouldn’t have taken. Valder looked at him, raising his eyebrow.

  “Interesting. Something rattled Farrador the fearless?!” he laughed. “I’m only grateful you made that choice on your own. I shall prepare my Dever palace for you, nice change of scenery and some fresh air.”

  “I am grateful,” Farrador said, nodding. “Please do not send unnecessary servants or guards. I need some peace to reflect on this matter.”

  “I understand,” Valder nodded. “I shall free the western wing for you. You’ll have the water garden for meditation, the high wind terrace for breathing exercises, and the library for research. I cannot let you be alone, so I’ll send ten of my elite guard with you and fifteen servants. I’ll instruct them to stay well out of your way.”

  “That seems ideal,” Farrador said, smiling. “You always know what I want.”

  “I want to know what rattled you when you have the explanation for it. Nothing that rattles my oldest friend can be anything good for Petrah. Know that I worry about this as much as you do,” Valder said, patting Farrador’s shoulder.

  “Hopefully, we find our answers, friend. Hopefully.”

  Valder left the infirmary much calmer than he had come in. Larnia tended to Farrador, still flushed.

  Balor lay on the bed looking at the ceiling. The meeting had gone more amicably than he thought. He didn’t know what he expected to see in Valder, but he’d seen something interesting.

  The man had a pull to him like no other. Other hominids bent around him, falling in like astral bodies into a black hole. His eyes compelled others to listen and obey, and Valder moved through the world, always thinking in terms of how he could govern it.

  It is this property of his that had inspired Farrador to research enhancing his own eyes with the Source. Not to say he was power hungry or was plotting to seize the throne. Farrador was a man of study and research. His priority had therefore been improving his vision through artificial means to see the flow of the Source—Soul matter, through space and time.

  That thought couldn’t have sparked in his mind if he hadn’t seen the pull of Valder’s eyes, which he’d inherited from his bloodline.

  An inherent property of a ruler passing down through bloodlines. That is an interesting development for sure.

  The dark age had developed a myriad of these traits as people adapted to magics. Mixing of bloodlines sparked new traits, and the probability space was too vast even for Balor to track. Something had slipped through, and it was a pleasant surprise.

  Later that night, Valder’s elite guard arrived to escort him to the Dever palace of Valder, which was several hundred leagues away from the capital of Petrah.

  Balor had a new plan once he was there. Farrador wasn’t the kind of man that he could recreate and leave alone. He would research until madness to find out what happened to him in that crystal cave, even if the time he lost there was just a second or two.

  Farrador was resilient, and Balor wanted to see how far he was willing to go. Once he’s alone in the Dever palace, Balor wants to skip that game of chase. He intended to introduce himself to Farrador.

  Two Farradors. They had a lot to talk about after all.