The instant their feet met the earth, the phantom wind that had borne them through the air vanished abruptly and coldly, leaving behind only the echo of its chill in their bones.
'So, we already landed.'
For a time, Ruvian didn't move, the silence clinging tightly to his forms, broken only by the quiet rustle of leaves blown by a distant breeze. The wilderness around him was far less forgiving than the manicured ground below him.
Beneath his boots, the terrain was uneven — damp soil mixed with scattered stone, wild grass threading between cracks.
Then, suddenly, the blindfolds came undone — released, as if the air itself had plucked the fabric from their eyes. The cloth drifted upward, carried by the wind and disappeared into the sky.
Ruvian blinked; the shadow and sudden dimmed light pressed into his pupils. His vision gradually returned — he stood there, slowly adjusting to the murky palette of the world.
Ruvian scanned his surroundings.
