The Village

The pale man had stopped on the side of the path, not to rest, but to enjoy the sight of the endless field ahead of him. He noticed that, oddly, the grass had taken on a subtle blue tint. The pale man enjoyed this. To his surprise, however, he began to hear sounds behind him, starting off quietly and rapidly becoming a symphony of life and activity. He turned, curiously.

There, alongside the trail, was a modest sized village of domed clay dwellings with oval windows. The village was built in a circular formation, with the center of it a sort of a plaza, surrounding a small well. The crowded village's inhabitants all wore robes that covered there entire bodies, with strange metal masks over their faces. The pale man entered the village, walking slowly amongst the crowds, unaware that his naked form was so foreign to these bundled people.

The village smelled sweet, like sugared candies. The villagers sounded content and cheerful. As he looked about, he saw no guards; no one was armed, and no one had armor, save for their metal masks. The village had no fences; no way to keep anyone in or out. The pale man approached one villager, who was sitting on a bench near the well.

"What are your people, villager?" He asked. The villager looked up at the pale man, expression hidden by the mask. The villager spoke, its voice neither masculine nor feminine, though it could not be described as in-between, either.

"Ti em fi dusha, harto." The villager seemed friendly, though the pale man could not understand the foreign language.

"I do not understand you, villager. Do you speak my language?" The villager cocked its head, staring at the pale man for several long moments.

"E kanno. Ten af em." The villager stood, leading the pale man away from the plaza. The pale man followed quietly, confused but somehow at ease. He was led through an area several 'streets' away from the central plaza, which contained only the clay dwellings, side by side. The pale man noticed that, despite all the people and the apparent level of resources needed, there were no crops, no farms, and as the pale man had already seen on his journey, no animals.

They stopped at one of the dwellings, identical to all the rest. There was no door, only a mild veil of beads. The villager led him inside, and what awaited him caused him to cry out in surprise. Beyond the veil, it seemed as though they had been inside already, and were now exiting the home. They entered an area of tall grass, with a single white path ahead of them, leading to a comfortably sized home. On their left was a vast field of crops, and on their right was a herd of cattle. The villager turned to the pale man's shock, and offered what could only be a statement of reassurance.

"Et ami onnak, harto. Kanno em rito." The villager nodded once, patting the pale man on the shoulder and continuing toward the house at the end of the path. Upon reaching it, the pale man noted that there were no beads, but an actual door. They entered, relieving the pale man when they simply entered a house. It seemed odd, however, that nothing in the home seemed to have any corners. The tables were round, the chairs were round, the windows were round. Even the stairs that led to the second floor were smooth and flowing. The villager led the pale man up these stairs, into what he assumed was where the villager slept. The bed, like all things, was circular, as were the sheets and pillows.

The villager led him to a storage container of some sort. It was similar in shape to an egg, though more appropriately symmetrical. It contained a small hole in the top. The villager put his index finger in this opening, then that of his other hand. Without any effort, he pulled the opening in both directions, making the contents of the container accessible. He brought forth a long robe, like his own, and a metal mask. The mask had a horizontal slit across the eyes for sight, and had a black line painted from the center of this slit down the gray mask, making a T shape. The villager held these things out to the pale man.

Hesitantly, he took them, watching as the villager headed back downstairs. The pale man pulled the robe on. It was simple in design; it slipped over his head, and had a few strips of leather that one could tighten by pulling on them. He adjusted the robe comfortably, then looked at the mask. He was tentative, but pulled up the hood on the robe and donned the mask. It seemed to meld to his facial shape, though only on the inside. The outer part of the mask was still smooth and flat. It only hampered his vision a little, but nonetheless he felt....different. Shrugging it off, the pale man came back down the stairs, into the main part of the house.

"Is that better, stranger?" The villager said, now distinctly feminine. She turned from the window, facing the pale man. She still bore a slit across her face where the masks' visors would be, though now it appeared moreso to be a tattoo. Her features were soft, with a narrow nose and rounded cheeks. Her eyes were large and solid blue, though natural and glistening, unlike that of those the pale man had once known. Her skin was faint of hue, nearly white, causing the sun to bounce off of her cheeks. She smiled at the pale man, and without thought, he smiled back. She laughed softly, then nodded. "Yes, it seems to be that way. You -are- able to understand me, correct?"

The pale man started, coming out of the strange trance he had been in. He nodded. "Yes, that is much better, villager. But...what is this magic? How does it work?" He asked curiously. Again, she laughed.

"It is not magic, stranger. It is simply what is. Without proper construction, two separate things cannot properly comprehend one another." Once again, she smiled. The pale man was confused, but nodded slowly. "You will understand in time, stranger. Do not worry." She walked in the pale man's direction, then up the stairs, motioning for him to follow. She stood at the top, and motioned for him to pass by. "Rest, stranger. The outer world does not allow for it, and you do not grow tired, but your travels will make the spirit weak. So go lie, stranger. I will take you to meet our leader when you wake. Then you can do what you must."

He furrowed his brow and cocked his head. "Villager, how do you know that I am here for a purpose? In fact, this purpose, if any, is unknown even to me. Previously, I did not even see your village." He gave her a skeptical look. She smiled back at him.

"Stranger, we do not get visitors without a purpose. That is why our village became known to you. Perhaps the purpose is only to rest your spirit, and if so, the village will be gone when you awaken."

He rubbed his cheek apprehensively. "I am not sure I want to leave, for I like your village very much. It has many things that amaze me; I have seen nothing like them before. Beyond that, you have been infinitely kind to me, with no obligation."

Her brows raised, and she looked at the pale man curiously. "Well, stranger, I would advise speaking to our leader after you have rested, nonetheless...but if you do so, and still wish to stay, you may do so. Just be aware that there is much you may be leaving behind."

The pale man gave her a confused look, but she shook her head and motioned to the bed. He nodded and headed that way, sitting down. She began down the steps, but turned briefly and smiled.

"Camrakis, stranger."