Outside

Preceded by legend and hearsay. Given no name but the ancient title spoken in languages unspeakable to man. It stalks untamed lands. Appealing to its nature. Rarely seen but often heard. Those who see dread it and understandably so, for it appears unlike them and unlike in every way. Its form is as a man but exaggerated, magnified as if to mock and envy it in unison. Silver hair and grayed, unwrinkled skin. Unclothed because it belongs not to those fallen things. It stands above; seven, eight feet high, and only walks in grace in accordance with commandments unfathomable to all others.

The eyes. The lidless, unblinking gaze that has seen the vastness of existence. The greatest evil and the greatest good, each in their awe and horror. It has looked upon the face of the infinite. It has touched it and it has lived. It lives even now. Watching, waiting. To it millennia is like breath dissolving in the winter air. It has seen man rise and die and rise again. It has offered mercy to him and it has brought down the sword. So shall it be, until the end of its days.

It came from distanced places, from outside. It doesn't know when. To those inside it is an aberration. They scream and run and grovel in its presence. As do you. But it knows the truth. It is not the monstrous one. It is too great a creature than you've ever imagined. Too real. You fear it for it reminds you of what you are; small, damnable, without control. But it speaks of what lies beyond this fragile visage. Of blameless grandeur. There is unforeseen compassion and veiled kinship in its blood. The oldest of passions, even older than fear. But still it remains apart and unknown. Whispering its purpose and teeming with mystery.

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