”The first sign was the thick mist. Micah and I were out in the fields, as we usually are, and it just came rolling out from the woods. Unnatural, it was.”

My colleague, I suppose I should call him, calmy beckons the mildly intoxicated farmer to continue.

“That was enough for us to stop what we were doing. It was the sound of bells jingling that made me nigh piss my breeches, I tell you. Apologies for the crude language, my lady.”

I shrug slightly beneath my black tunic. “Worse words have passed before my attention, I assure you. Please continue.”

“Right you are… the bells. They were soft, like the ones on those fancy jesters that come around for the festivals.”

I meet Kiron’s brown, almond eyes and he mine.

“That was right scary, I tell you, in the twilight. I don’t even know what came over me, I just turned and ran. Didn’t look back.”

“And Micah? What happened to him?” The Theremian scholar’s soft voice earns him nothing but a pained look from the farmer. “I am sorry if it is too fresh of a wound, but we need to know everything if we are to prevent this from happening to others here. Please.”

“I found his body the day after when I worked up the courage to return. Only… he had no face.”

“I walked into the stables that morning, as I always do, you see, only there was a white mist in there. And my mare… she was dead on the ground, no wounds to see. And her eyes, nose and mouth, you see, this is the weird part, they were gone. Just, gone. I don’t right understand it. Maybe I was still dreaming.”

“I was out fishing when I found the strangest thing. A dead pike on the shore. A-and I know that’s not that special, happens all the time, but it had no face, none at all. Said to myself, ‘Jonathan, no more drink for you, it’s messing with your eyes’.”

“I buried my daughter last month. She had gone to play in the woods right outside our farm. She didn’t come home for dinner. I found her that night with…”

“… no face.”

Kiron leans himself on the wall of the room that we have been using for the past couple of days as a base for our interviews. His silky-smooth, black ponytail and brown skin is very similar to that of the people here in my native Losia, though he is from Therem. I suppose it makes sense. Our southern dukedom here in Valis would share a border with eastern Therem had it not been for the mountains in the way. I take a position opposite of him and sigh heavily.

“You still haven’t told me why you are doing this.”

He looks to me with a playful glint in his eyes before answering. “Neither have you, Aaliyah. What reason could a priestess of Ogliara have to seek out something so dangerous? Curiosity?” He narrows his eyes while staring into mine. It’s unsettling. “Revenge?”

“Perhaps. I know these people, the victims and those left behind. You came seeking danger, though. I didn’t take you for a fool.”

“I didn’t either, but you are right. I came here seeking the Thief of Faces. Perhaps that is foolish.”

“Just a bit.”

“All I want is what no one has ever gotten before. A look at the Pale Jester, the faceless menace, all puns intended.”

I groan.

“And you think that you know how to do so?”

His smile is warm. I wonder if it is genuine.

“I do.”

The bleating of a goat is a sound that I have never been comfortable with, especially when I am tying said goat to a wooden stake in the middle of a damp field with barely a hint of sunlight to let me see. Ogliara the Moonshadow brings many blessings, but nocturnal sight is not one of them. Finally, the knot is secure and I turn to find Kiron preparing our lovely sleeping arrangement for the night – two bedrolls concealed behind a bush. I suspect the use of magic to make all the pieces fall into place – the branches bend so conveniently and the ground here is the only dry patch in sight. The man is a mage after all, like most academics, so it would be no surprise. I settle down next to him behind the cover.

“Ready when you are.” My voice probably betrays my nerves.

“Wonderful.” Kiron raises his right hand and lets his fingers ripple in a wave-like pattern. The effect is sensible in the oddest way. A pull, a tug. Like when children suddenly get it in their heads that they want exactly that toy, my mind is suddenly under occupation by a sharp awareness of… the goat?

Yes, the goat. Siblings, I know how that sounds. I pray that my feelings in this moment are conveyed properly through my Black Book to all of you that read this, for if they are not, you must surely have lost all respect for me by now.

“The bait is set.” The Theremian puts on a sly smile and tugs himself into his bedroll, all nice and comfortable. “You take first watch.”

I roll my eyes, more for my sake than his, given that he doesn’t even see it, then snuggle into my watching position a bit. Not so comfortable as to make me sleepy, not so horrid as to distract me from watching a goat be surrounded by… insects? Guess I’m not the only one feeling the effect of Kiron’s spell. Good. It’s working then. Now a cow joins them. And a horse. No mist yet, though. And they all have faces still. I don’t know if I want to be disappointed or relieved by that.

An impact in my lower back disturbs the nightmare that I can’t remember. Kiron’s boot. I groan, annoyed, and get to my feet while brushing some dirt off of my trousers.

“We overslept.” His voice is lighthearted, almost cheerful. He sounds like a prepubescent girl. It’s endearing, in its own way.

“Obviously. What now?”

Kiron smiles and points at the goat, still tied in the middle of the field and just dazing off in the shy sunlight of the early dawn. “It looks a bit too alive and… facey… for the trap to have worked, wouldn’t you say?”

However…

“Do you not see it? The mist.” Faint and pale. Almost tracing a path. Into the woods bordering the fields. Or perhaps that is my imagination. My nerves. I suddenly become very aware of the shallowness of my breath.

“I do. I also realize that it might just be the companion of the early morning and not the Pale Jester.”

I don’t want to answer. Instead, I leave the academic behind to have a look around. Most of the animals from earlier have left, probably when the spell faded. The goat doesn’t look particularly bothered about being tied to a stake in the middle of a dank field and being used in a trap for a mythical monster. Instead, its odd, line-shaped eyes just stare at me stupidly while it chews on something. Then, its eyes dart momentarily to the tree-line and then back to me. I feel a surge in my chest at that. Its irrational, I know, but it’s still uncanny and uncomfortable. I stand up, sigh and walk over to where the goat was looking. There is nothing here, but grass and dirt and a dead raven with no face.

What?

I pick it up, gently. It’s unharmed, if one ignores the fact that it doesn’t have a heartbeat nor any facial features. Its beak, eyes, even most cranial feathers are gone. All that’s left is just a pale, blank slate. It reminds me of…

I smack myself. Now is not the time.

“Kiron! Get over here!” A slight crack in my voice.

“What do you have? Oh…”

I start walking into the woods with Kiron right behind me. Ogliara protect me, this ends today, I swear it. I reach into my satchel and find the leather spine of my Black Book. It will keep me safe.

“Careful now,” Kiron says while looking concentrated on something else, his fingers tracing invisible lines as if to visualize some difficult mental image. “We don’t know what we are walking into.”

I clutch the book to my chest, tightly. The crunching of leaves beneath our boots is the only sound audible. I can barely see in the grey light of early dawn. Is the mist growing heavier?

“Any suggestions?” I have to force the words out.

Kiron doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts one finger up.

I stop.

The mist is moving. In front of me. Searching.

In Ogliara’s name…

Shadow of the Moon, protect me! Oh, Great Eye and Thousand Hands, reach down and save me from this nightmare!

Where did Kiron go!?

I…

Bells in the mist. A soft jingle.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

A tug on my senses. A new focus. My eyes are forced shut then reopen.

Am I dreaming?

Kiron is staring at me intensely, studying me. Does he look satisfied?

Then he turns and flees. Why?

There is a body on the ground next to me. How did I miss it before? A faceless woman in a tunic and trousers with short, black hair and brown skin. She dropped her book…

I am so very tired…