The memory of the agonizing pain that had previously flayed his nerves was finally beginning to recede, replaced by a sense of comfort that felt almost alien to Dayat. For the first time since he had been thrust into the world of Aethera, he was no longer resting in a cramped, damp bunker or a temporary infirmary. His new quarters in the East Wing of the Emerald Palace were a botanical masterpiece; the walls were woven from ancient ironwood vines that emitted a faint, pulsing emerald luminescence, providing a soft, ethereal glow that made lanterns unnecessary.
On a desk that appeared to have grown directly from the floor, a vase of freshly picked lilies released a fragrance that acted as a natural sedative, keeping Dayat's mind sharp even though the mental residual of his massive manifestation still left a dull, rhythmic throb in his temples.
