Faceless

Chapter Three: Deadleaf

It was the morning after the encounter with my mother about my father's file, and I was walking to the library near the castle. The air was brisk and smelled of half-frozen leaves. It is the third phase of Sintari's cycle (the star that this planet, Milburous, revolves around). Incaria is a cold place, even in the earliest phases of Sintari's cycle - Brightstar. In Deadleaf, it chills everyone to the bone. Everyone except for me.

One of my "talents" is not being able to feel the cold. Well, I do feel it- just as I feel everything- but I'm not affected by it. Heat, on the other hand... Well, I've never been much of a Brightstar person.

This Orangetree had been especially brisk, so when the beginning of Deadleaf came around, Incaria was prepared. People bustled around the busy streets, preparing for the freezing temperatures that came around in the middle of the cycle. I was the only one not looking forward to the end of Deadleaf and the beginning of Frostmelt.

The weather was best right before Deadleaf began, but I would never complain about the air being too cold. The Incarians, on the other hand, were not so happy with the bitter winds and rough snowfall.

"Princess Mokaia!" I turned toward the sound of the oncoming villager. It's easier to tell who it is if I face them. The warm tone of voice and clack of wooden shoes displayed the entrance of Missy. Misilna, actually, but she had once told me to call her Missy. Sounds more fun, she had said then. Sounded more prissy than fun to me, but what do I know?

"Princess Mokaia!" Missy ran up to me, still yelling despite the fact that I was right in front of her. Missy had never quite gotten over the fact that my face was basically a huge, tan forehead. "Mokaia, Mokaia! The Old Ones have proclaimed that Deadleaf has come! Would you tell your mother to sign me up for the preparation meeting? I'll be out if town until the day before, and you have to sign up at least three days prior!" She was out of breath by the time she finished, the combined running and jabbering exhausting her old body quickly. I simply nodded in reply.

"What.... a nice.... girl... you are.... Mokaia," Missy said, doubling over and clutching her elderly knees. I stared at her for a moment and then briskly walked away. I felt her stare bore into the back of my head all the way to the library.

* * *

Ever since I can remember, I have felt those same stares bore into the same spot on the back of my head. Some Incarians didn't even hide there distaste for me back then; spitting at my feet and calling me a hideous beast. I didn't blame them.

The moment I was born, I felt the gasps of the Birthers and Healers as their gazes fell to my disfigured head. I remember one of them whispering the word Feeler, and the other villagers laughing with a strange combination of nervousness and disapproval. I remember hands touching the side of my head gently, the soft fabric of a bed sheet brushing my toes. The calm voice of my mother, whispering that I would be fine. Even then, she knew that I would only ever be able to communicate with her.

Had I had eyes, or even just an nose and a sliver of a mouth, I would have thought myself to be at least decent looking. But, whenever I focused hard enough, sweat dripping down the skin on my head, I was able to see myself. And It was terrible.

My head was covered in thick, brown hair, tangled and matted as if made of mud. In place of eyes, I had slight indentations in my skin, as if touching it would cause both circles of skin to cave in. Instead if a mouth, I was given a ragged cut across my chin, the length of a fingernail. I had no lips; my "mouth" would forever stay closed and silent. No ears either, just pale skin stretched over my skull, pinched and cracking from lack of moisture. My nose was a stub, barely distinguishable from the many dots littering my skin - I believe they are called "moles." They weren't hideous, my moles; no hair growing out of them or pus dripping out. No, they weren't hideous, but they were moles. And they were stuck there on my crinkled skin. Forever.

* * *

I made my way across the snowy path to the library. It was a large enough building, about the size of one wing of my castle. It was made of brown and red brick, and covered with tiny rusted windows, their glass fogged up from the heat of the fire that was kept burning inside. It had a chimney as well, coming from the cement fire room that was completely sealed in- except for the chimney itself- so that the scrolls would always be protected.

"Hello, Mo," called a familiar voice. I mind-smiled, recognizing the voice of Old Chancing. He was Incaria's librarian, and my only true friend in this town. Except for Missy, I think. But then again, I didn't really know her that well yet. I nodded in greeting to Old Chancing, and I felt the warmth of his smile as he bent down to see me. Part of the reason the library was so tall was so that Old Chancing could fit through the doors.

"What are you looking for today, Mo?" Chancing pulled me by the arm to the edge of the nearest shelf, naming off all the genres I could pick from. "Children's geography- mostly of Incaria or Milburous-, fiction for the young, fiction for the older, fiction for the oldest, and-- ah! Here it is: The Royalty Section." He pointed to a small section on the right side of the highest shelf. Reaching up with his extremely long arms, Old Chancing pulled out a book I had never seen before. It had a light gold cover and silver lettering spelling out the title. I gasped inwardly, and the jerky movement if my body must have alerted Chancing to my reaction, because he said, "I thought you might be interested in this one: The J. Sinchestire Scam."