After a few long moments and the sudden appearance and disappearance of Don's face, the vortex spat him out.
"Finally," Michael mumbled, bracing himself against a sudden wave of dizziness, his senses reeling from the abrupt transition. When he opened his eyes, the dim, oppressive atmosphere of the Obsidian Palace was gone, replaced by… well, by something else entirely.
He was standing on a hilltop, overlooking a sprawling kingdom that could only be described as… magical.
The sun hung high in a sky of the most brilliant blue Michael had ever seen. A gentle breeze, carrying the scent of wildflowers and freshly baked bread, rustled through his hair, and the air was alive with the sound of birdsong and distant laughter.
