Boredom is a feeling the dead cannot escape.
Unlike the living they don't have mindless tasks they can perform, nor can they sleep to waste time. The dead have no where to be and nothing to do, so starts the thrill of interacting with the living.
She was tired of that today, though. The land she inhabited was so sparsely populated that it was nearly impossible to find some one who wasn't dead or too stupid without traveling very far West. That large town, nestled at the center of everything, acting as the entire land's clock and compass. No, she was far too bored of them today. This day, she needed something brand new, something no one she knew of had attempted before.
Ikana Canyon wasn't exactly a spectacle; tall walls of craggy rock, wrecked and ruined structures, a river cutting right through the middle of it. The Stone Tower was the only truly eye catching piece of architecture and only the stupidest of creatures ventured in there, usually to their doom. She'd seen it once before. No, something even more interesting then that would need to happen this day and as she hovered near the edge of the canyon, the strong river below acting as a guide, she knew exactly what that thing was.
The castle's walls, though once pristine, were now yellowed and ugly. The turquoise markings that had once been attractive, she was sure, now only served to mar its appearance even more. One of the pillars at the front of the wall had toppled over on its side, leaving its base in a crumpled heap and even the crimson birds emblazoned on the doors no longer drew the fearful attention they once inspired.
It was all looking like a joke, really.
Pulling her grey, tattered hood up, Seahli moved towards the front gates with a remarkable fluidity. On the far left side of the wall she took note of a section where the painted tiles had crumpled off and there was a very obvious, person-sized hole leading right inside. She wouldn't be needing that, her way was far more interesting.
The lantern floating closely to her hand jingled as the chain clinked with her movement. A thin black arm peaked from beneath the purple robes and she pressed it against the aging structure, lightly brushing the stone before her hand was engulfed by it. Her arm followed, then her head and the rest of her. Getting the lantern to follow her was a little tricky, but by swinging her arm over the very top of the double gates, entry was made.
To her knowledge, only Guays had ever gone past the gate and anyone or anything that was already within the castle walls had been there from long ago. Non sentient as the birds were, she wasn't entirely sure they even counted.
Now that she was inside, Seahli lowered herself closer to the ground. If she had legs she might have appreciated the cool grass springing up alongside the castle itself, but alas, it was not to be. The walls protecting the true castle's structure seemed to be much taller on either side then in the front, stretching high enough to seemingly be touched by clouds--she assumed this was a trick of the light and dust. Stone Tower was easily visible over the left wall and it was as a giant compared to the miniscule castle.
The same wear and tear on the outer wall was present on the interior; there seemed to have been a small moat dug through the stone coming from a small, now dried up, reservoir at the far right which lead at the left into the well. Weeds had begun peeking through the stone long ago, trying to reclaim the land that once belonged solely to it. A colorful line of stone came directly from the gate leading towards the castle's entrance--a small distance, but a large stretch of stone nonetheless. Its colors swirled every which way, gold, green and red, all looking very tribal.
Similar to out front, two pillars stood in front of the castle, drawing more attention to the gaping entrance that was so dark it would rival the color of her skin, if it could be called that. The castle proper seemed to only have two stories, three at the most but she was unsure if there was a way to actually ascend so high or if it was just to make the castle look bigger as an intimidation tactic.
As she drew closer, mostly letting the wind carry her floating form, familiar sounds leaked from the entrance. The dead and living alike could name this sound immediately and it was one the living feared most and it meant almost certain injury or death--there were ReDeads inside. That was probably the main factor in why no living being on record had entered the castle and returned. Some of the others bet on it when some one was stupid enough to try and either they ran out screaming moment later or simply never came out again.
Interest piqued, Seahli pushed herself along the air, purple cloak trailing behind her almost like a wispy tail.
The interior was so dimly lit she had to intensify the fire in her lantern, holding it out in front of her. Four emaciated looking beings, stripped naked of all but a mask, stood at the corner's of the rooms center, each next to a support beam. ReDead were notoriously patient, some not even moving for months due to a lack of motivation. They barely acknowledged her presence, just giving their usual unearthly groans in response to her entry, though one shifted its foot as she moved past. Each was totally disinterested with the other, and she with them.
Her sights were on something far more special, something no one had dared to see in decades, possibly centuries.
The throne room.
Past the four dim beings was an even darker room with a circular door that looked almost shoved into place. Once again, she wouldn't be needing that, and passed through as simply as she had the front gates, stopping once half of her body was inside. It was a big disappointment, to be completely truthful. The room was large and rectangular and at the far end sat the infamous throne atop three stone steps. While the structure was fitting the coloration seemed to belie the room's true nature.
In truth, it looked as though a Takkuri had eaten paint and vomited all over everything.
All across the walls were emblems of the same birds as on the front gates, she couldn't tell just what they were, accompanied by the occasional skeleton, hunkered down on its knees and its hands up as if it were praying. On the right wall were two large windows with the smallest remnants of burnt cloth dangling from their tops, blowing gently in the small breeze.
Is it really this empty…?
How boring.
Passing through completely she took note of some marks on the floor, as though something metallic had been dragged across it and sparked. Similar markings seemed to dot it here and there, all the way up towards the throne itself, though they were quite spaced out. Below one of the windows, she noted with slight amusement, was an old arrow that seemed burned until the middle, the head and back feathers still intact.
It seemed there was a battle of some kind. She wondered if it had been the King, defending his strong hold until his last breath, or perhaps some petty raiders that had managed to get past the ReDeads some how and fought for a treasure either long gone or nonexistent. There were many possible explanations and she didn't feel like naming them all off.
After a few more minutes of floating along the wall and picking out strange shapes within the intricate designs, Seahli was ready to leave. There truly was nothing else here, just the memories of some battle from long ago that most likely lost its importance as soon as it had begun. She turned, a purple stream of hair covering one of her glowing eyes, but she stopped and looked back towards the throne. Something she hadn't noticed before was peeking out right from behind it. Though hard to tell from her distance it looked off-white and appeared to be fabric of some sort.
Curiosity got the better of her and she floated over.
The throne wasn't quite propped up against the wall, through it was close to it. There seemed to be just enough room between it and the wall to fit exactly what had caught her eye.
Dark leather straps nailed to the back of the chair, several of them looping across a vaguely humanoid shaped lump that was wrapped in bandages so profusely that it was barely recognizable. The first thought that crept to mind was Gibdo, cousin to the ReDead and equally, if not moreso, frightening then their brethren. The only difference between the two was just this, bandages that hid the corpse.
Perhaps her inquiring mind was getting to be a little too intrusive but manners don't account for much to anyone but the living. Carefully she brought her free hand close, the other holding the lantern up. She trailed her fingers across the leather; it didn't feel quite like the usual cow hide you would find, it was a bit tauter and hadn't been dyed but discolored naturally from years of dormancy, just like the rest of the castle. The bandages seemed to be filthy, as well, though more from settling dust that worked its way in on the wind.
Seahli could only guess how long this thing had been here, stuck to an abandoned throne with only four ReDeads for company in the next room. Letting her hand drop roughly to her side, one of her fingers tugged a bit too hard on one of the straps. It didn't seem as though they would have needed much help, that was the last bit of strength they had and she wiped it out with a single swipe. One by one the straps snapped away, falling apart and letting the human shaped clump of bandages topple forward, nearly knocking into her. Its head, if it were upright, knocked sickeningly against the back wall before it slid down to its side and began rolling down the small stairs leaving a trail of ratty bandages behind it.
With most of the bandages wrapping its body unraveled it still looked like a Gibdo to her. An emaciated one, possibly with the thinnest layering of bandages strapped to its body she had seen yet, but that's all it could have been. If that was the case, however, what was it doing strapped to the King's chair? That hardly seemed the place for one, what would they have been doing with it?
She couldn't contain herself.
Had something interesting actually just happened?
Could it be possible?
What's this?
Upon closer inspection there seemed to be hair poking out from some of the bandages. The coloring of the hair was nearly the same as the filthy wrappings, causing it to blend in at first. This was one bit of evidence against it not being a Gibdo. …Interesting. Intent on finding out more about this strange corpse, as it were, Seahli settled herself on the stone floor and nudged the body onto its side. A few more of the bandages fell away with the movement, revealing a rather dark skinned eye, close.
If it weren't for the fact it still had lashes and, she assumed, the eyeball inside of it she would have written off the hair as a coincidence and named it a Gibdo just so no more questions arose.
That was too easy.
Her black thumb trailed gently over the skin that still felt soft, though cold as death. Along the bandages, through some hair, finally stopping atop the eyelid. The pause barely lasted a second before she gently pressed upwards, pulling the lid up and revealing, just as she had thought, the eye. A constricted pupil, as small as if its owner had been staring at the sun for too many hours, dotted the center of the brightest green iris she had ever seen. The coloring of it seemed almost sickly, like it could be dangerous to touch, like a poison.
Still, it was a little disappointing that after all of the excitement she had built it, this thing was dead after all. Sighing, she removed her thumb and adjusted her hood, sweeping away some of her purple hair before floating upwards.
Her stop was abrupt.
In the time she had taken to collect herself and begin departing, the eye had not closed itself. In fact, the eye was now staring directly at her, half lidded and looking tired, beaten. The outline of a jaw became difficult to ignore as it moved, though all she could hear was raspy air muffled by the bandages. It came in, clear as day, through her mind, though.
…What are you?