The empty carceral chamber echoed with time passed, pain now long faded but for memory. The figure lay tossed in a corner forgotten for hundreds of years. The grime and rind that had formed out of the stagnation and putrescence in this place covered it.  
A hand appeared in the high window, perhaps portending something. The scabrous green skinned hand grasped one bar, pulling and twisting it. Then, it grasped another, doing so until all had been felt. Slowly, an encrusted arm extended the hand through the bars so that the hand could move about, feeling the brickwork encasing the bars. At its zenith, the window held several sigils. The hand rubbed away the dirt to reveal them. They were of silver and gold.  After feeling them for some time the hand began twitching in a ritual long since forgotten, pausing in its casting to caress each sigil in its own right. Eventually, blue lines began forming in the air surrounding the window. At one point, these lines seemed to seize the arm and hand, but it could have been an illusion. When the casting finished a new mark appeared upon the overly tattooed arm. This new tattoo seemed to link itself through the bands of blue power to the capstone of the window. This is where the most powerful sigil resided. With one sharp jerk, the blue lines grasped this key sigil and the arm reached up to tug and twist it. In one motion of finality, the sigil shattered, causing a cascade of the rest to follow suit. So too, overly filled with power, the bricks vaporized into dust, leaving a gaping hole.  

Triumphantly, the arm retracted and a rope flew through the hole to land at the bottom of the cell. A figure now entered the cell that had not seen life for centuries. This figure clad in purple and red robes slid slowly down the rope. It was a woman who landed at the bottom.  Her fiery red hair poked out from beneath the cowl. Swiftly, she moved to the limp form of the dead occupant. From the depths of her robe, she retrieved a small box made from hastron wood. The woman proceeded to cast several incantations by tracing the tattoos on her skin. This opened the box from which she extracted a long metal tube. This she placed next to the ear of the dead person. She began chanting into the tube.  After days of ritualistic magic, the corpse began to stir. First, it turned its head to look at the sweat soaked woman. The thrall that held her as she continued, now through sheer force of will, to chant was palpable to the newly risen corpse. The deep green power lighting the corpse’s eyes grew brighter as the woman, her strength all but exhausted, began fading. The more the corpse woke up, the more she faded until, the woman slumped to lie still in the corner. The corpse, now discernible as a woman, stood looking down at the now dead woman who had woken her from her long slumber. It nodded and moved toward the rope after gathering all of the instruments used in her summoning. Then, she slowly climbed the rope and exited the room. Her final act was to reseal the window and bars. Silence settled slowly over the  carceral cell once more as it slowly filled with the echoes of sufferings past.