#4. Balor of the Rather Harmless Evil Eye
(Year is 2010...7 years before the Personal Apocalypse)
Many have passionately argued that the Eternal Sleep was not a fitting punishment for Balor. The ones left behind, the ones who survived the Second Revolution, raged then, and they’re ancestors rage today, that such a monster deserved nothing less than a monstrous punishment, and not the peace granted by oblivion. These cries of unjustness have always had merit. The pain, the horror, the sheer volume of death that ensued from Balor’s crimes against humanity are unquestionable. Even to this day they bring forth a visceral feeling of revulsion in the most stoic of souls.
However, I digress, the topic of punishment, just or unjust, is for another author. The focus of this text is rather on the young Balor; a Balor that was noticeably different to the later infamous incarnation. Though, as we now know, this difference proved to be only skin deep.
Centuries before the idea of the Eternal Sleep was even devised, Balor the Fomorian had been considered a good looking fellow. He has always been blessed with height – having stood well over six feet from a young age – but not many people know that Balor once possessed a sculpted body, encapsulated by a back and shoulders that were broad and powerful, though not to the extent they resembled an upside-down pyramid. This early Balor had also hit the genetic jackpot in terms of hair – a shimmering, jet black mane flowed down to the middle of his back like some sort of miniaturized cape. A little cape for his head, one might say.
These solid genetics had translated into a face that possessed a charming yet sparingly used smile which decorated a strong jawline and neck; both which were kept clean shaven and smooth. As a result, Balor always appeared fresh faced and youthful, which is quite a contrast to how he ended up. Balor’s eyes were also dramatically different in these early days – being vivid blue in color and shining no matter the situation. It was often said that when night fell, Balor's eyes lit up the world and led the way out of the darkness. While during the day, these same eyes sparkled in the sunlight and captivated those who were lucky enough to be in their presence. These vibrant and enchanting windows into the soul were a perfect representation of Balor's personality, or at least that is what people had once believed. Also, rather significantly, in these early days Balor had possessed two eyes instead of the later infamous sole eyeball. Quite the transformation.
This young Balor was viewed as a man who possessed limitless energy and crystal-clear purpose. A man whose mere presence inspired others both in resolve and ambition. He was the kind of man that when he spoke, others listened, and when he was listening, others made sure to say nothing foolish. Essentially, this youthful, undamaged Balor, was the sort of man that everyone wanted to know as well as to been known by. Of course, this was exactly how Balor had designed things to be.
Balor’s appeal was such that no matter how far or wide one was to travel in the Fomorian Empire – and it was a vast empire in the days before Balor’s mutilation – you would not encounter a soul who had a bad word to say about the man. Terms like “shining light for the Fomorian people”, or “beacon of hope for the Ever-Living Death” were often mentioned when Balor's name was brought up in conversation. His seemingly wholesale popularity was even more impressive considering the Fomorian Empire was infamous for its in-fighting – with the fierce rivalries more often than not ending in mass scale slaughter.
In those days, the Empire had been split into numerous factions that had spent their time searching for new allies, betraying their current ones, or attempting to do both at the same time. It was a very unstable sociopolitical landscape to say the least. Yet, despite this turbulent environment, Balor seemed impervious to this hereditary trait of betraying one another. Instead, he had been perpetually seen in a good light…just as he had designed things to be.
As a result, wherever he went, Balor was quickly joined by numerous young men and women who were only delighted to be in his presence. The men were hoping to gain his good grace and thus advance themselves in the eyes of their peers, while the women were hoping to gain his love and become the wife of the fastest rising practitioner of the Death in Fomorian history. Balor's response to these young admirers was always the same – he was more than happy to offer a kind word or piece of advice to the men, yet he never let any of them become too comfortable, and while he often complimented and charmed the women, he never did so to the point where something physical would happen. By doing this, Balor kept his large group of followers satisfied yet eager. This resulted in Balor never being short of people to do him a favor, though, conversely, none of these people could have been described as a true friend or a loved one. Things were this way because, yes, you guessed it, this was exactly how Balor had designed them to be.
None the wiser, Balor’s followers viewed their relationship with him in a spectacularly miscued light. They believed they were his closest confidants. His most trusted allies. These Fomorians thought they knew Balor on a personal level. They would often describe their friend Balor as a warm-hearted individual; someone who you could rely upon; a man whose own interests most definitely came second to the interests of the overall community. All these people, every single man and woman, could not have been more wrong. The truth was that Balor would have happily slaughtered all of his followers if it had furthered his ambitions. The only vexing aspect for Balor of having so much blood on his hands would have been the actual physical mess of it.
Balor’s lack of interest in building relationships stemmed from the fact that he hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared about his family. He hadn’t cared about his self-proclaimed friends. He hadn't even care about the Fomorians as a race. Not even a little bit. Though, in Balor's defense, this really hadn't been his fault. You see, Balor had been born not caring. Not once, not even for a single moment in his life, had he ever felt anything remotely resembling empathy towards another living soul. Not even a hint.
In his youth, Balor had been aware of this emotional void within himself and had spent much time pondering the why of it. He had devoted countless hours to studying concepts such as kindness, compassion, and the greatest display of empathy of them all: love. Despite his efforts, all of these notions remained a mystery to him. Balor's lack of emotion hadn’t just stopped at empathetic feelings; he’d also been incapable of stirring up negative ones. As such, there was no-one he disliked. He didn't feel envy, and he certainly had never feared anyone. To Balor, each individual he came across were simply people. Much in the same way that a spoon and fork were just cutlery. In fact, to him, there was no difference between cutlery and people – they were all just tools that could be used in varying ways. True, people were more complex and challenging tools to master, but still, tools nonetheless.
As mentioned, Balor’s lack of emotional responses had been something he’d studied in an attempt to ascertain what the problem was. He conducted experiments and theorized without any joy – both literally and figuratively. In the end, Balor had arrived at the conclusion there was nothing wrong with him and that the problem lay with everyone else. He began to see emotions as nothing more than weaknesses and distractions. To him, they served no purpose other than to make people lose focus, like when anger was roused, or, worse still, when an emotion caused a person to fixate on something needlessly, like loving a child. By viewing emotions in this way, Balor became thankful he hadn’t to contend with these uncontrollable disturbances.
As you may have gathered by now, this ultimately resulted in Balor being a bona fide psychopath…who had psychotic plans in store.
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“What do you get if you add a naturally psychotic genius who excels in a mysterious Power known as the Death, with an insatiable yearning to dominate a militaristic society bereft of empathy? Well, nothing good!!! Click below to find out just how bad such a combination can get! :0
- Aj