The white void did not simply swallow them. It yielded. As Elara and Julian plummeted through the infinite negation, the biting cold of the First Realm began to surrender to a gentle, humid warmth. The sensation of falling vanished, replaced by the feeling of being cradled by something ancient and patient.
Elara reached out, her fingers brushing against the air, and found it no longer thin or sterile. It was thick with the scent of ozone, damp loam, and the sharp, sweet fragrance of blooming jasmine.
She opened her eyes. They were not falling anymore. They were resting on a bed of verdant, velvet-soft moss that stretched endlessly beneath a sky of soft, pearlescent dawn. There were no stars, only a diffused, golden radiance that seemed to emanate from the very atmosphere.
Julian groane
