The historical record does appear to cite occasions of doublegoers or “synods,” beings who were only half each and whose fusion by means of historical coincidence must have relied on some occult mathesis, for why and how else? As such, some forty years before the aforementioned death of the men and women at Mainz, beneath strange crafts, and elsewhere on the Rhine, and fifty-eight years hence similar occurences in Flanders, and thirty four years hence the death of the true Frederick, rose to power the hermit pseudo-Frederick.
Their relationship followed the form of what astronomers now call a wobbling binary, for, witnessing only the life of true Frederick, the careful observer would see perturbations which signal without doubt the coming of pseudo-Frederick; a trained looker might even recognize in his supernatural demeanor the material cause: the shining halo, above him always, of a barycenter.
Over the course of the thirty years following the death of true Frederick – a period known now as the Great Interregnum, for it was a power vacuum, – a divine inspiration swept the villages. So then, by what way, truly, was the pseudo-king a usurper? Wasn’t his claim to the throne forced upon him, in the uncanniness of his bearded gaze, in the virtue and mythology of his rags? No, no one speaking in precision could rightly call pseudo-Frederick the author or the consequence of these events; their cause is the synod.
Nevertheless did pseudo-Frederick carry his end of the burden, given a sorcerer’s death at Wetzlar so that the barycenter might be squared, and the earth made flat again. As the synod often dictates, as with any challenge to the natural order, the doublegoers were cancelled in their redundancy; Yea, they were, in the words of Whitley Strieber, “roughly treated.”