Again he thought of the facades human beings erected around themselves and others, and those imposed on them as children by The Lucitor ... if for no other reason than the very power such facades could either endow men with or rob them of.
Yet as he righted his course and continued along his way, he became acutely aware of the many men, women, and children now ogling them from the dark recesses of their dwellings, their faces blue-white with fear as if steeped in moonlight. Facades or no, perhaps they were right. How hideous he must have looked in their eyes; could he hardly blame them for their cowardice? He, who bore the exaggerated, slanted browed visage of Death itself? Who, slender as a leper in his ebony garments and billowing black cloak, rode arrogantly through their midst? Whose
