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The dark haired boy managed to free himself of the water filled dip in the floor, crawling and stumbling over strange grooves on the surface. Still blind, still deaf, he could somehow feel something big happening around him. Rumbling vibrations of multiple footsteps.

It was frustrating. He didn't understand what he was doing here, what he was supposed to do to get out.

[Enter]
Julian stopped dead when he saw the sign. Losing his hearing had been bad for him, it wasn't something he was comfortable with. Losing his voice wasn't nearly as bad, especially since there wasn't anyone to talk to anyway.
Losing his vision... Now that was a completely different story. Normally he was nocturnal, or tried to be anyway. He didn't mind the dark, saw quite well in it. But this form, this form wasn't the same. He didn't think it would have the capability. And even then, that wasn't what the sign was talking about. He wouldn't just be entering a pitch-black room. Whatever the Voice was, it had made this place in such a way that if he stepped through that door he would. Not. See.
And that scared him.

But he couldn't just turn around. And he couldn't just stand here. It would do his friends no good. Without any other choice, he let the force drag him into the room, and his world went dark.

Jordan eased down the steps again, searching for something unknown in a slow, shuffling gait. It wasn't long before his foot bumped something again, but when he checked, he found that he had somehow gotten turned around, returning to the steps he'd just come from. He sighed with frustration.

Jordan's outstretched hands encountered a pillar, shorter than the pillars surrounding the mirror in the center. Its top was hollow; within it, he could feel some kind of cool liquid. A fountain made of purest water, he recalled. The purest symbol of his grief. Whose grief? King Arthur's? One of his knights? Someone else?

He wanted Ferros back in his mind, needed to talk this over with his weapon, exchange thoughts and reassure one another. That wasn't going to happen until they could get home. He sighed and moved away from the fountain.

Jordan had circled back to the stairs again, he found, and he groaned, sitting down on one of the steps and rubbing his hands tiredly over his face. What are you so afraid of us seeing that you had to take away all our senses? he thought angrily at the Voice. There was no answer.

Or maybe it was symbolic. The thought came out of nowhere, and he frowned, turning it over in his head. Maybe ... the Voice was blind and deaf? Or had been blind and deaf? Trapped somehow? That suggested Merlin, who had been trapped in a tree or stone, according to legend, though he knew Merlin as a staff ...

Unable to see, hear, or speak, he realized with a jolt. Like an unbonded weapon.

He'd found something, something cool and metal but somehow alive. Cautiously, Jordan ran his hands over the object. A throne, huge and empty, inanimate, but seeming almost to hum. The back of his neck prickled as though someone was watching him.

The throne's base was engraved, and as he ran his fingers over the inscription, he found words forming in his mind, clearly visualized and sharp.

Call my true name.

The first thing Julian walked into was a freaking table.
He bent at the waist when he ran into it, his hands catching himself on the tabletop. His lips drew into a frown as he ran his hands across it, one of them stopping when it touched a book. It was a big book, he could feel old, possibly even brittle pages under his fingers. Oh, if he could see, could read what it said.

His back straightened in and instant when someone touched his wings. He quickly turned, one hand grabbing at whomever it was. He caught a wrist and searched for a face with his other hand.
He was by no means any good with reading faces with his hand, but he could tell it was probably a ghoul and-
And his hand touched something in her hair, a fuzzy ear.
He drew his hand away from her face and moved it to hers. He carefully pressed his nail to her hand, lightly tracing letters.
L-U-M-I-?

It might not have been as frightening had only his sight been taken away. Deep down Remi was really an animal, he knew to rely on his other senses. Primarily, hearing. If you cant see, then the barest russle of sound would give him a few answers.

Only his hearing was the first thing taken away. Then his speech, and now his sight. He felt as vulnerable as a newborn pup, unable to see the truth and monsters in the world.

Still at least he could use his nose, and taste the air. Of course he was not going to go about and sniff, and lick, every person in the room. Cause ew, no.

He took a step forward, arms in front of him, trying to see if he could run in to any object, anything. Only for him, he found someone had hit him first. He went still, his tails drooping and trying to pretend he was something that he was not. He would know in a moment if there was a blossom of pain if this was an enemy, only he felt hands on his back... hands that moved down to run along his tails. He shivered from the touch, from the knowledge that really someone was trying to either A: Identify him or B: feel him up.

Only with the addition of the drawings on his back was he truly able to know which is was, and in reality? It was sort of both. He stood still, his trust weighing on the fact that this phantom person had not harmed him as of yet. His trust was fickle here anyways, but he also knew that some of them here were real. Was this Tomo or Erebus maybe? Actually... never mind, it was not Erebus. No.

He resisted the urge to reach back and touch to see who this was too, fidgeting a little as the other touched his ears. It was around then he realized he was an idiot, and should be using his nose. His sense of smell was better than average at best, and now with three senses null his sense of smell should be a hundred times better. At the exact same time he breathed in, his name were drawn on his back. He knew this scent, it was covered in something different... something foreign, but at the core he knew this one. While she was covered in a scent he would assume was from whatever kingdom she was thrust in to, he knew her.

He turned around abruptly. Placing his arms around her, he hoped she would not freak from the jerky motion. A moment late rhe placed his head on hers, and let out a sigh no one could hear. Oh god it was so good to know a familiar person here, someone whom would be trying to kill him he was sure, had he not seen her in the vision with Medea as well.

Amrita? He wrote on her back in return.