Dimentio awoke in a strange bedroom with the mother of all migraines and no memory of what he had been doing the night before.

Normally this would be incredibly questionable and suggest events taking place that probably shouldn't be shared in polite company. But Dimentio wasn't the type to take any sort of enjoyment from those sorts of activities, and the mystery of where he was and what he had been doing would probably be something that our younger readers would be all right reading. In any case, Dimentio sat up to take in his surroundings, hoping they would provide an important clue to the mystery. Then he grabbed his head and slowly lay back down. Above him was an unfamiliar silk bed canopy that he stared at for a long time as he let the nausea subside.

The room he was in was lavishly ornate. He was lying on the right half of an enormous four-poster bed, with white satin sheets and a soft, Goonie-down quilt over him. The curtains were not drawn, and sunlight streamed in through the cathedral windows. On the left half of the bed, the covers had been rumpled and turned back, as if someone had been bunking there and gotten up. Around him, the walls were adorned with paintings unfamiliar to Dimentio but of a certain Renaissance quality that hinted at their true value, though the colors blurred together leaving him unable to discern the subjects. The bedroom seemed to be one belonging to a king, or else an emperor. Why he was here? He wasn't either of those things, and there was far too much color and light for this to be Castle Bleck.

The door opened and a red Shy Guy let himself in. Dimentio was startled to see that the Shy Guy's mask was exactly like his own face, black and light split down the middle. "My Lord, how are you feeling?" the Shy Guy asked.

Dimentio put his hand on his chest in a subtle who, me? gesture.

"You seemed very unwell when we tried to rouse you this morning."

Dimentio was about to begin asking questions: who are you, where am I, what kind of place is this, who brought me here, blah blah blah. But something about the situation frightened Dimentio. And when he was afraid, he knew it was certain doom to let on what his weaknesses were. The best thing he could do was play along as if he was completely in control of the situation, and figure out what he could. If anybody sensed that something was wrong, they would be all over him.

But he had no idea what to do. "Er... well, now that you mention it, I still have a rather terrible headache. And I'm very thirsty. Do you think you could-"

The Shy Guy bowed so low his mask touched the floor. "Of course!" he chirped. "I'll be back momentarily!" With that he bolted out of the room.

Dimentio lay back down and looked to his left. There was a nightstand there, a stained glass lamp and a leather book atop it. Dimentio opened the book and was surprised to see his own handwriting in it.

Day: XO
Weather: Perfect
Mood: Fabulous
The palace refurbishments are nearly complete. I hope that, when they are finished, we can open the doors to the public again. I do so miss their adoration in the halls.

Dimentio frowned. All that told him was that he was indeed in a palace, which he could have guessed. He turned the page back.

Day: OX
Weather: Perfect
Mood: Pleased
She asked me what form she should take. I told her to surprise me, always surprise me. It delights me what she comes up with.
Dinner was dreadful. This world is perhaps not as stable as I hoped it would be, but my advisers say it will sort itself out soon. I know magic, and this is nothing serious. Just... imperfection. But I hate imperfection. I wanted to blight it out-

"I'm back, My Lord!"

Dimentio slammed the book closed and tossed it sloppily onto the nightstand. He felt embarrassed, as if he had been caught snooping somewhere he shouldn't. Did it count as your own diary if you didn't remember writing in it?

In any case, the Shy Guy came scampering up to his bed. He had a glass of water and two pieces of dry toast. "For your stomach," he explained.

Dimentio took the water and as it passed over his lips, he realized just how incredibly thirsty he was. The water tasted sweet as super soda to him. At least some of the headache was, Dimentio surmised, due to dehydration. He finished the water and turned his attention to the toast. Though the thought of putting anything into his stomach made it turn flip-flops, he took a bite and was surprised that as soon as he tasted it, his stomach immediately settled down. When the water and toast were gone, Dimentio felt much better.

The Shy Guy was still standing there watching him, little triangle hand stubs clasped in front of his waist. "Is there anything else I can do for you, m'lord?" he asked eagerly.

Dimentio frowned as he thought of how best to phrase this question. If he was too forward and he did not have that power, he would raise unwanted attention to himself. However, if he was too meek, and they were ready to offer him that power, he would lose his high status in the eyes of his subordinates. Either way, he had to act exactly like they expected him to, without knowing exactly how they expected him to act.

Perhaps you could just ask what's going on, he thought. But no. They would prey upon weakness given the chance. Everyone would. Even Count Bleck had. So had Dimentio, far more than once.

"Tell me," said Dimentio casually, "are the grounds ready for a tour?"

The Shy Guy swallowed nervously. Dimentio felt that he had acted out of character, but he couldn't quite place why. Instead of elaborating, he waited patiently for the Shy Guy to speak, to tell him indirectly what he had done wrong.

"Well," said the Shy Guy nervously, after a long pause, "you know... normally you give us a few days of warning before you want to inspect us-"

"Oh, no, no, you misunderstand me," Dimentio said lightly. "I do not wish to run a formal inspection. I just feel like getting my bearings on things. This would be completely off the record."

"Off the record, huh?" The Shy Guy looked skeptical, but he shrugged. "All right... if you insist. But... really off the record, right?"

"Absolutely. Off the record. I just feel like enjoying my surroundings."

"If you say so." The Shy Guy frowned. Clearly Dimentio was acting unusually, but not too unusual as to raise real suspicion. He was also beginning to feel conformation that, wherever he was, the people here took him to be in charge. But how could they, if he hadn't been here?

But he had. The diary had his handwriting. It described him doing things. Living here.

But he never kept a diary.

Perhaps something had happened to cause him to come here, and a separate thing had happened to cause him to lose his memories?

No, the answer had to be simpler. The two things had to be related. What were the odds that two bizarre, life-changing events would happen independently so close together? If they were indeed close together.

But how could one have caused the other? Or, what one thing could cause two such different events?

Dimentio's head was spinning. He lay back down on his pillow and crossed his arms over his face.

"Perhaps you aren't feeling up to a tour this morning?" suggested the Shy Guy gently. He tried to mask it as concern for Dimentio's well-being, but they both knew he simply wanted to discourage Dimentio from snooping around. The problem was, only one of them knew why.

"Yes," said Dimentio. "I think I need... a bit more time to myself. Come back later, please."

"Of course." The Shy Guy bowed and scurried out of the room, leaving Dimentio alone with his thought.

He lay there for a long time, staring up at the canopy and going back in his memories. He could remember a yesterday, but he wasn't sure if it was today's yesterday. Waking up, arguing over breakfast, showing off his dimensional prowess to the less gifted minions... nothing unusual at all. He wasn't even certain as to when his memories cut off.

Suddenly, he sat up, his hands feeling around his pockets before he consciously realized he was looking for his Mailbox SP. When he found it, he punched in Count Bleck's number and a quick message: I don't know where I am. Please come and find me. Then he mashed send and lay back down on his pillow.

A minute later, the SP buzzed. Dimentio was so excited his heart skipped a beat as he opened it and read the reply:

Unable to send message. Reason: unrecognized number.

His heart sank. Slowly and sadly, Dimentio closed the SP and tucked it away. Then he lay back down, squeezed his eyes closed, and tried to go back to sleep.