“Do you think it will work?”
“Of course it will. It has to.”
“But what if it doesn’t? What if he doesn’t remember? What if he remembers too much too soon?”
“That won’t happen. Things will play out exactly as they need to. Our race will live on through him, and we will return one day. You will see.”
“But how can you be so sure? We can’t know which path he will take.”
“I know because that is the way it must be. There is nothing else that can happen. We have the proper shields in place to keep the others from tampering with our creation, and we have made the walls to dissipate when he needs the information they hold back. Everything will play out according to plan."
Looking away from his partner, the man walked to the table where their creation was laying. It was still, its chest neither rising nor falling. Its blue eyes were closed, and its face was smooth. The tiny body was so small and precious. The small precious hands where lying at its side, each one clenched around an object. In its left hand was a small ball of color, and inside that ball was the only shard that had been found of the Mask of Mastra after it had shattered. The ball was also the only one like it created. No one outside of their group even knew that it existed, and only his partner and he himself knew what it did, or what it could do one day. The colors where spun through music, and bathed in light before being wound together into the shape of a ball around the shard. Along with the colors however, the also used enchantments to make it last forever, eternally tied to the child through its genes. The magic and powers that created that tiny orb were more powerful than anything anyone had ever attempted, aside from Mastra himself.