The sky tore open as Rawa Vols plummeted from his floating bed, the freezing wind slicing through his skin. For a moment, his heart seized in his chest, the realization of his helplessness clear. The bed, once a solid platform in the sky, vanished as if it had never existed. He spun in the air, disoriented, watching the spot where it should have been.
"Oh... bed disappeared," he muttered, more out of confusion than panic, his words stolen by the wind.
And then it happened—a sharp, bone-deep sensation. He thought for sure something had broken, but instead, the world around him shifted, like glass cracking without shattering. He passed through something. Was it a barrier? A veil? The feeling left him briefly breathless, but no real harm came. The freezing air softened, and his senses dulled.
"I must've hit the ground," he thought, waiting for the impact. But the strike never came. Instead, he blinked, and the icy mountains were gone, replaced by a landscape unlike anything he had ever seen.
Rawa gasped. His mind spun, struggling to keep up with the transformation unfolding around him. There were no jagged, ice-capped peaks, no endless snow. The harsh white world that had surrounded him was gone, replaced by the most vivid greens and golds he had ever laid eyes on. Beneath him, endless rolling hills stretched in all directions, painted with the colors of life, not ice.
"Man, I'm not facing any problems," he muttered in disbelief. The fall had somehow lost its fear. He was still falling, yes, but with a strange grace now, as though something unseen was guiding him down gently. "But... why can't I see the ground? It was like an illusion above, but now it's pure green. And more beautiful than any ice-topped mountain."
Below him, the hills were wrapped in lush forests, dense canopies of emerald leaves glittering under the golden light of a sun that hung lazily in the sky. Massive trees, their trunks wide and gnarled, reached high into the heavens, their branches heavy with the weight of time. Vines thicker than rivers coiled up from the ground, winding their way across the landscape, linking the peaks together in a delicate network of green.
Farther in the distance, waterfalls tumbled from the cliffsides, their silver streams catching the sunlight and turning into threads of diamonds before disappearing into hidden valleys below. It was a landscape that seemed both impossibly beautiful and eternally ancient, untouched by the chaos of the world he knew.
He continued to descend, his body no longer flailing but gently drifting, as if guided by some invisible hand. The air was fragrant with the scent of earth and growing things, far different from the sterile chill of the mountains he'd left behind. The soft hum of unseen life filled his ears—birds singing melodies from the canopies, distant animals calling from hidden glades, and the quiet rustle of leaves in a breeze he still couldn't feel.
Far below, patches of wildflowers bloomed in vivid clusters of red, blue, and yellow. Their vibrant petals swayed in unison, as though the land itself was breathing, alive with purpose. The colors blurred and blended with the tall grasses, painting the landscape in a living mosaic. It was like stepping into a world shaped by a dream.
"Can this even be real?" he whispered, his voice now almost reverent. No longer was this the fall of a man lost in danger; it had become something greater, something magical. His heart swelled with a sense of wonder and awe, emotions that pushed aside all his fear.
In the distance, the shimmering surface of a lake caught his eye, nestled between two emerald ridges. The water glistened like polished glass, perfectly reflecting the vibrant world around it. Even from his height, he could see its purity, as if it held the very soul of the place. Rawa felt a pull, a calling from this world, as though he had always been meant to find it, to explore its secrets.
The ground still seemed impossibly far below, but he no longer worried about when—or if—he would land. The world beneath him felt like a promise, a mystery waiting to unfold. A place where illusions were real, where magic coursed through the veins of the earth itself.
And so, Rawa continued to fall, not with dread, but with hope. Something awaited him below, something powerful, and he knew with certainty that this strange, beautiful land would lead him toward his destiny.
For the mountains of ice were nothing compared to the boundless green world beneath him. And this, this was only the beginning.