In the child’s right hand was an orb of pure darkness. Both the man and his partner could be cut off from the abilities pool if it became known that they had even attempted to create such an object, let alone succeed at it. The orb was a tightly kept secret not only because it was forbidden, but also because of the reason behind making such an object. They knew when they started this dangerous endeavor that they would have to break rules, and they knew that they would probably be cut off, but all the same they knew that it had to be done. They had to ensure that their race would continue on in at least one of the worlds, their powers and abilities preserved somehow. That was why they created it. To allow the child to become the most powerful to ever be born, the greatest of all of them, with strength to match and possibly beat Mastra himself. The tiny child laying in front of them was their only hope to continue on the bloodline of their great and noble race.
There was a loud blast somewhere outside, and they heard voices shouting, and people running. The man turned back to his partner and put on a pair of glasses that made the world extremely dark, and held out his hand saying, “It’s time. We must send him on, and we must do it now. Are you ready?”
Facing the man, his partner took his hand in hers and walked around the opposite side of the table where she put on a similar pair of glasses and then took his other hand. After their hands touched, she merely nodded her head, assenting that she was ready and squeezed his hands. Nodding his head in return and returning the squeeze, the man opened his mouth and began to sing, and the woman began to direct flows of color. They could hear the voices growing louder now, getting closer.