What was once an abysmal nothingness was suddenly rocked to its core and sparked awake with a prominent thud.

A sharp pain sparked in a place he couldn't quite find the name for--he knew it was high up. Dizziness quickly set in as darkness was sliced away, sharp light spiking through to his only open eye. There was no control over his body, he couldn't close the eye to protect it and the pupil contracting so tightly was almost felt. Sandy colored pieces of hair flew in front of his face for just a moment until finally his body came to a halt.

Something was in front of him, out of focus amidst the strange colored area, but there were no words he could put to it. Nothing was making sense and it was all coming at him so fast, everything assaulting his senses while he was helpless, lying on the hard ground, frozen stiff.

Why?

Why couldn't he move at all?

It was now that "ironic timing" kicked in and his seized up body began to loosen. Not much, little by little, he slowly found himself twitching, inching. It started from the head, muscles relaxing. The time elapsed was probably much shorter then the eternity it felt like to him. After what could have been considered days, when in reality was a mere few seconds, he found himself able and urged to move that uncovered eye.

What was before him, hovering overhead, seemed to be as visibly surprised by him as he was of it. Black skin, long arms but no legs, a face with no features save for a single glowing, golden eye while the other was covered by purple strands pushed forward thanks to a grey hood atop its head. Though confusion was abundant, it looked decidedly female.

Both of them stared until he couldn't bear it anymore.

With newfound control he coaxed air into his mouth--he could feel it covered by something taut, wrapped around, but he couldn't be sure of what it was--bringing a strange sensation inside his throat; it was a mix of tickles, pain and general irritation, but he worked past it and managed a weak mutter.

"What are you?"

This possibly female thing seemed taken aback by the question, leaning her head back and staring him up and down… at least he assumed that was what she was doing, the fact she had no pupils made judging such things fairly difficult.

With no mouth, he wondered how she would be able to retort, never minding the fact that she could very well have been unable to understand him.

These questions were stomped out as he felt something brush against his mind, something invisible. It was like a cold rush of wind squeezing its way into his skull.

I'm a poe. …What are you? And why are you here?

It was her response.

Gender now confirmed, he had another problem on his hands. Mysterious as she and this place was, he couldn't answer her first question. He, quite simply, didn't have that information. The more he thought about it the more he felt like things were being blocked. Why wouldn't he know what he was? Her second question brought out similar results.

Again, he opened his mouth. It felt like his throat was getting air directly into it from the outside, not just from sucking it in voluntarily. The sensation was strange, as if his throat were wide open.

"…Poe?"

First he tried repeating; it seemed speaking was a bit difficult and he wanted to take it slowly.

"I… I don't know," that was the only response he could think of which would answer both questions simultaneously.

His response either seemed to anger or amuse her with the way her eye suddenly narrowed. Once again he felt the cold brush, though the second time was less surprising then the first despite how abrupt it was.

Spirit, ghost, whatever you want to call my kind.

A haunting laugh echoed inside his head.

I figured you to be a Gibdo, but… her words trailed off as she continued staring, eventually bringing a hand to what might be called her chin, Is it necessary for you to be wrapped up like this?

Without waiting for him to respond she moved closer, hand finding its way to the tight covering over his mouth, chilled fingers toying with whatever they were. There was no weight to her hand, it felt as though air was moving against his face instead of what he was certain was a physical body. At least that was what his eye was telling him.

Her new proximity was making it difficult to focus. Being careful not to knock her hand away, if that were possible, he attempted to wiggle himself into a better position--this was far more difficult then one would assume as more of what was covering his mouth was apparently wrapped all around the rest of his body.

After a couple more tries he was able to roll himself off of his shoulder and onto his back.

"A Gibdo?"

The word was foreign, just like 'poe'.

Was it necessary? Maybe. He couldn't say for sure seeing as he couldn't even tell what he was. Nothing was there, it was all blank before that knock to what he now knew had been his head.

"I don't know," the same answer came again.

Speaking was becoming easier each time he attempted it but those mixed sensations weren't calming down in the least, he was just becoming accustomed to them.

"What is this place?"

Now that he was on his back and the light wasn't spiking him right in the eye, he was noticing a lot of intricate designs along the walls in a variety of colors. While appreciating them, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread from it all.

The spirit's fingers paused in their tugging and exploration, her voice becoming quiet instead of the cautious, sturdiness it held before.

You've been sleeping for a long time… haven't you? she looped a finger beneath around one of the wrappings and pulled it back, the fabric stretching easily until it was torn.

Though the closeness of such a being to him was unnerving, he allowed her to do as she pleased with the wrappings. They hindered him as much as they seemed to hinder her, so it was actually a service she was doing, one he wasn't keen on giving up.

"Sleeping… Maybe. I still feel tired," and sluggish but he couldn't tell if that was actually his body or the wraps. "So you're a ghost?" That response had been posed what seemed like an eternity ago but he was only getting to it now. Strange a question as it was, it somehow made sense but the pause in her answer wasn't very reassuring. He glanced up to make sure the question hadn't been offensive and, for a moment, he thought it had; the poe's visible eye narrowed again, contorted in a way that denoted sadness.

It seemed she caught this lapse in appearance and altered her expression faster then he could open his mouth to ask.

You could say that. I'm not living, in simplest terms, her hand had gone back to work on the wrappings, so loose now that one had been snapped that she was able to pull them all down past his neck to his collar bones.

For a moment she seemed lost in thought, it looked like it was taking all of her energy for her to not move her hand along his skin, explore the new dark, uncovered flesh. Something was intriguing about his appearance, he could feel it.

"…Am I dead?"

His side was becoming sore. With the looseness of the rest of the bandages following since the first, he was able to move his arms far enough apart and separate them from the wraps. Moving was as alien as speaking the first time, though he was relieved it didn't give off the same pained sensation. No, the feeling that came from moving an arm up in front of his face was more like tiny pinpricks, tingles, through every pore.

A fist was made to test his control; little to none. She seemed amused by how clumsy he was.

You look like you could be… that laugh of hers chimed up again, echoing though it was not physically uttered, All of these scars… and considering how old these bandages look to be, I would think so.

A stream of air blew from his nostrils in frustration, "But I don't remember being alive."

Was it really possible?

There seemed to be just enough knowledge in there that couldn't have come from nothing--his ability to speak, for one--but if that was the case, why were there no memories among them?

It was then he came to the realization that, in all the time since she had torn and rearranged the bandages, she had moved away and he was still flat on his back. That wasn't exactly the most becoming position to stay in for as long as he had. Taking what little strength and control there was in his covered body, the so called corpse rolled himself to the side, using the stairs as a hoist. One by one, he climbed until his numb hands reached the arm of the very throne he had been tied to.

Slowly, dragging his feet up behind him, he made it to a shaky stand and felt her cold presence near him, rising up as he did.

Do you remember anything?

"Nothing before now," he shook his head to emphasize.

Not even your name?

The corpse paused a moment to offer this notion some thought: Would he have remembered his name right after being asked that or would he be doing as he was now? After wording it in such a way, the answer was obvious.

He just shook his head again before shuffling forward a few steps and peeking behind the throne, "I was here…?" Nails were stuck to the back with dark pieces of cloth, or some other material, hanging off. On the floor just below it began a filthy trail of wrappings he traced all the way to where he had been laying moments ago.

Yes, latched right onto the back, there.

He could only assume the leather straps had been holding him in place for however long it had been.

"And this place… Where is it?" vaguely, he recalled asking this before but she just responded with condolence and pity in her voice rather then an actual answer.

Where? she cast a look around as though this were obvious, This is Ikana, specifically Ikana Castle.

The name didn't ring any bells but now that he was on his feet that sense of dread he had earlier was growing stronger. Was it because of her, this place, or perhaps his body telling him not to do exactly what he was doing?

"How long could I have been here?"

No way to know for sure. No one's set foot in this castle for a very long time… when she said this--or would it rather be a thought?--she turned to start at one of the windows as if she were unsure of something.

Bringing a hand up to his head to scratch, watching the spirit's reaction to her own words, he felt more wrappings around the top and began undoing them, letting out dull, messy blond hair. The color of his skin and hair contrasted greatly but what seemed to be the part that called the most attention was the bright green eyes, they almost looked venomous--he caught the poe staring a moment before she turned her back to him.

"Could you… show me outside?" he stepped back from the freshly dropped bandages, still using the arm of the throne to keep himself upright.

Nothing in here was helping, just making that feeling get worse and he wanted to get out of there even if he couldn't rationalize just why. Maybe something out there would bring some memories back. That was probably all he needed, a kick start.

Once again, the question appeared to surprise her and she whirled around to face him, stuttering slightly in response, Ah… yes, I can show you. Almost like a cue, she tugged her hood down to further cover her face. I hope you can handle it, having been inside for so long. …Maybe all of your nerves are still intact.

He wasn't sure if the last statement was rhetorical or not so he kept his response to a single shrug and followed her back towards the circular entrance.

She was patient with him, his stumbling walk and having to use the nearest thing to lean against just to stand, slowing down if he tripped or stopped and looking back over her shoulder when she was unsure. The ReDeads in the next room hadn't moved since her entrance and they took no notice of the new presence just as they took no notice of her. Passing by, he was curious, and gave one of them an experimental nudge but all it did was recoil and groan before settling back into place. She explained what they were as they moved towards the badly lit entrance, no light pouring in like it had in the throne room windows despite it still being the middle of the day.

Walking through it sent a rush of heat and blinding glow to him all at once, nearly causing a collapse.

"Ah… bright," in defense, he brought a hand up to his eyes and covered them as fully as he could, back to the utter blackness he had seen just minutes before. It felt so much longer then that, everything felt as though it took an eternity.

Yes, it is bright. The sun is what we like to call it.

The comment could almost have been construed as a personal affront but all he could do was smirk while holding his eyes shut, probably looking a fool, "I remember that…" Peeking between his fingers he saw a change in her eye, she seemed delighted by his response.

That's good, at least I don't have to teach you basics, the laugh that carried from her to his mind was high pitched and spooky, ebbing his smile a little, I hope you remember your name, soon.