The Pale Man

The armored monstrosity glared down at the pale man, grip tightening on the wicked axe it held. It took a slow, heavy step forward, and the pale man's heart sank. What faced him was both his life, and his death twice over. It was his past and his future, and yet it seemed to exist only to hold him back. His realization was interrupted by another strong footfall. His eyes, hidden behind his mask, darted upward to see his opponent raise his axe high in the air, ready to strike.

The Cheiftain stared up at the pale man, vivid blue eyes surrounded by pale gray skin. The Chieftain's black, wrinkled lips twitched into a smile, revealing two rows of sharp teeth. He stroked his beard as he surveyed the pale man. After some time, he spoke. "It is good that you realize you cannot stay. I took your place, for a time, but now that I have returned, you must go."

The leader of the village was a tall, lanky fellow whose arms seemed to outgrow him. Each movement of his was slow and deliberate. The pale man mused that it could very likely be a means of preventing himself from knocking into things. The Chieftain kept his head low at the pale man's arrival; the woman had stayed outside. The Chieftain wore a metal band across his eyes, but beneath his long, thin nose grew a hefty beard that reached his chest. From beneath the hair, two grey tusks grew. The pale man lowered his head in deference to the Chieftain. "I am but a guest in your village, though I find it welcoming and peaceful. In any case, I was told to speak to you, Chieftain."

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.