Silver that pulsed faintly with unseen power. The floors shifted texture between soft-grained marble and something warmer, almost like flesh. Occasionally, I passed murals that moved when I wasn't looking directly at them.
The aide stopped before a tall wooden door framed by thin blue flames that didn't burn.
He pressed a palm to a sigil, and it hissed open.
This is a very special place that was given," he said quietly, eyes still averted. "For you."
"You think?"
He swallowed. "Good night."
The door slid shut behind me.
Inside, the room was too silent. Too still. Like it had been waiting for someone.
A bed of floating glass hovered near a wide circular window that stared out into open night and three moons. All in different phases.
The air smelled like cedar and ozone. There was no fireplace, yet I felt warmth. And yet... something itched under my skin. Still. I was too tired to care. I just needed some, no a very long rest…
