Chapter 35
Everywhere I go, there are faceless people. The tavern, the village market, the chapel—at least one out of five are faceless.
It takes visiting three dream islands before I realize that the specters still have faces, but many of the dreamers don’t. The specters’ faces are uniformly bland and their stares are more vacant than ever, but at least they have eyes. They’re not talking with each other, though, which is odd.
Usually, specters have their own lives during a dream. They talk with each other, they fight, they probably even fall in love. When a dreamer visits, the specters are fully alive with their own independent lives.
But something is missing today. They walk around lifeless, bumping into each other, standing and facing the corner, sitting and staring out to nowhere.
