Archon Vyra stood at the portal's threshold and didn't move for a long moment.
To most people, the Leon's World interior would have carried an eerie quality—the sourceless ambient light, the sky without sun or moon, the silence that was too complete to feel entirely natural. But Archon Vyra wasn't most people. She had spent centuries in a realm of volcanic red, magma rivers, constant heat, and the ambient smell of sulfur that had long since stopped registering as anything other than normal air.
This was the opposite of everything she had ever known as home.
The green. The rolling hills extend in every direction without the interruption of jagged rock formations or heat distortion. The cool stillness of the air. The way the light came from everywhere and created no harsh shadows, no blazing focal point that demanded you look away.
