Silence. It was dark, and it was quiet, and all he could taste was ash. He didn't know how long it had been, since everything had happened. All he could remember was urgently pushing others ahead of him, and the screams of pain and panic as the flames grew larger and larger around them. He hadn't cared for a moment about his own well-being, merely making sure citizens escaped as the fire grew closer. When his final moments did come, he greeted them without hesitation, knowing that they had been coming. The all-consuming fire hurt like hell as it consumed him as well, but at least when he fell, he fell knowing that he had done all he could to help others. To help his home.

Now, he found that he could barely remember things clearly. He had no idea of how many days or months or even years had passed, but it all just felt like a moment to him. A mere second before his paws burst from the earth, and.he dragged himself upwards, gasping and wheezing. His entire body shook with the effort, and he practically collapsed onto the ground once he found himself freed. Around him... there was nothing left. No sign of a castle, or a town, or a kingdom at all. There was nothing but desolate land, and the remains of charred stone and seared wood. With every shift of his limbs, he could feel ash being flung into the air once more. He felt so... cold. His face felt cold, and the scent of rot and death hung on the air, although he wasn't sure of where it was coming from. Her was so disoriented and exhausted that he didn't realize the source of the scent was him. His form, once rather strong and handsome, broken down to a still decaying living corpse.

The next few hours were... meaningless, really. His memories were still hazy, and he couldn't even remember his own name, merely wandering through the broken and empty landscape. His dark gaze stared dully ahead as he moved, and he didn't seem to finally stir until his paws hit water. The sudden chill that ran through him caused him to yank his head back, although he was keenly aware of the fact that the water didn't feel as cold as usual. Almost as if his senses were dulled somehow. When he looked down, he was surprised to see that his paws seemed to be a stranger green color – a sharp contrast to the whites and greys they had once been. Had he been allowed a moment more of peace, he might've looked up to see his reflection in the water. A reflection that would've caused him to recoil in fear and dread, having to look into the deep black pits that now passed as his gaze, and see the jarring holes that now laid on his cheeks. He wasn't given that chance, however. His exhaustion finally seemed to catch up to him in that moment, and he found himself falling forward, eyes falling shut as he collided with the sand, and the sea. He figured he was going to drown.

He didn't.

---

When the zombified feline awoke once more, it was because he had hit something — land. Or rather, a rock on land. His back had collided with a large rock sticking out of the sand, driving a sharp gasp from him and causing him to flail around. When he finally got his bearings, he found himself sitting on a beach. It didn't seem to be the beach that he had been on before, however. There was no sign of the destroyed kingdom in the distance, nor were the surroundings in any way similar. Instead, palm trees swayed calmly in the breeze, and an almost welcoming tropical scent seemed to linger on the air, particularly strong. Where... where was he? Had the ocean truly dragged him all the way out to another island? If so, why did that awful scent of rot and death still linger on the air, beneath what he would soon come to know as the smell of The Palm Glades?

As he slowly made his way further inland, Phantom found himself taking stock of things. He certainly felt a lot less disoriented then before, and he could remember his own name. Phantomking. It felt good to remember once more. Additionally, he remembered what had come before all of this – the fire, and the destruction. Still, he had little idea of how the hell he was back, or how all of that had ended. Had he somehow managed to survive? The kingdom he had left seemed to be in ruins, but... perhaps they had all merely moved somewhere else for their own safety?

Still, even as he began to regain his usual memories and faculties, he didn't seem aware of his current status as a zombie. He wasn't aware of the fact that his skin and pelt were now a putrid and odd light green, with various blotches of darker green throughout. He didn't know that his old wounds were set starkly against his skin in shades of deep dark blue, for all to see. He had no idea that his eyes were now a deep navy blue color, edging particularly close to an empty and unpleasant black. Although, he had somewhat noticed that something was wrong with his face. His cheeks still felt so cold, although he wasn't sure why – it would be a shock to learn of the gaping wounds, revealing jagged and yellowing teeth. He would be quite a startling sight for whoever came across him.

Speaking of whoever came across him... it took about ten minutes of wandering around the beach before he noticed the scent on the air becoming stronger. He looked up and was relieved to see the shape of a figure on the horizon, seemingly coming towards him. He was quick to rush forward to meet them, although such an action brought with it a strange ache throughout his entire body. He wasn't sure why – he was a knight, he was trained for intense physical activity. This was hardly anything... still, he'd have time to worry about that later. For now, he simply focused on this newcomer, near black gaze gleaming as he spoke, "H... Hey! Hello... I'm so glad to see someone out here. Would you be able to tell me where I am?" His voice was hoarse from disuse, although it almost seemed to hold a slow pace to it, as well. As if it was an effort to get each word out.

Winterhymns. The first name was unfamiliar to Phantom, but the surname certainly wasn't. Pendragon was a name that he had been familiar with for pretty much his entire life, and he couldn't help the way he seemed to light up as he heard it. He tried not to make his excitement too overwhelmingly obvious, however. After all, this could be one of the several Pendragons he had never met, who had no reason to have heard of him or know what had happened to his old home. Or perhaps, they could be a member of a completely unrelated Pendragon family. It wasn't unheard of for names to repeat, after all. So, he didn't spew out too many questions just yet, merely looking down in thought before he spoke, "I... I suppose I'm looking for a place to stay. My old home is... it's not around anymore, I don't think." He couldn't help but glance back at the ocean as he said that, a heavy sigh leaving him as he thought of the burnt and desolate shore he had departed from. Was that truly all that was left of what he had vowed to protect?

With a brief shake of his head, the zombified feline then turned back to Winterhymns, continuing in a slightly softer tone, "My name is Phantomking. I'd be honored to have the opportunity to join the Palm Glades." His gaze then drifted in direction of Drayden, blinking in confusion at the boy's approach. Why did he seem so disgusted, even if he was attempting to hide it? In fact, why did Winterhymns seem so disturbed as well? With a frown of concern on his face, the knight then questioned, "What... what's wrong? Is something the matter? You both seem... off." He still seemingly wasn't aware of his own state, his short tail drooping behind him.

— Reggan

Have you looked at yourself recently? To anyone else, such a question might have been insulting, or demeaning. To Phantom, though, Drayden had a point. He hadn't looked at himself lately. He had tried to look into the ocean water, but then... he had passed out. With a slight frown coming to his face, the undead feline finally lifted up one of his paws, inspecting it. That ghastly green color was still there, and it seemed to continue up, farther. With an odd feeling of dread filling him, the knight lifted up a paw to his face, feeling at the strange cold patches that lingered there. When the pads of his paw connected with teeth, he knew that something was horribly wrong. As his heart dropped down into his stomach, the undead male merely chuckled, muttering weakly, "I... I hadn't looked at myself lately, actually." His voice was slightly strangled despite his best efforts, and he suddenly found himself very keenly aware of where that rotten smell was coming from.

He wasn't given much time to dwell on his current condition, though. No, there would be plenty of time for agonizing over it later. Instead, he had to deal with the fact that he was in a whole new group, with other people tossing their names in his general direction. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, the male dipped his head before speaking up, "Drayden, Goldenpaw, and Survivor... alright, I can remember those." They were all pretty different, weren't they? Goldenpaw's style of name was familiar to him, but the other two certainly weren't. He figured he could ask about that later, though. For now, he voiced the one question lingering on his mind, "Uh... if you don't mind me asking, where do you guys live? Like, housing. I think I need to... lay down for a bit." His question wasn't pointed at any of them in particular, and Win had practically faded into the background of his mind for now – mainly because he still didn't realize he knew the other.