Thia stepped through the portal and gasped at her new surroundings. It looked like they were still in the Marching Mountains in a hidden valley. The Dallnothax had used trees and rope to build a dome around the entire valley blocking out most of the sun to the point where it was a light green hue. Beautiful intricate tree houses were built fifty feet high with multiple levels and a complex system of pulleys used to move necessities from place to place. In the center of it was a luxurious garden of grass surrounded by uniform flower bushes. Thia walked forward to see what the garden had to offer.
The two of them made their way back the way they came through the twisting channels of The Underdark. When they reached the dead end Hadmorlin stopped and raised his hand and moved it in a circular motion while muttering the same incantations under his breath. After about ten seconds he stepped through and disappeared into the cave wall. Thia followed behind him. When they stepped through it was nightfall, but they were no longer in Sildëyuir.
Thia's village was located right in the middle of Sildëyuir. It was a very majestic and dense forest but Thia had wandered the woods so many times she knew how to manipulate it. She was enjoying her long walk to nowhere when she reached the edge of her village. Normally she walked in the forest during twilight, but the sky was still pitch black. She looked around in wonder at the large, silver trunked trees that now had phosphorescent fungus glowing up and down the trunks of them. A pack of silver deer ran across her path and glowing foot-long emerald and sapphire dragonflies buzzed around her. The grass lit up with every step she took. Everything seemed to be humming with magical energy.
Thia Amasticia was born in a dark cave in the Feywild. The Feywild or the plane of the faerie is where the fey originated from. Thia lived in a village just outside of Sildëyuir, a citadel created by the ancient star elves. It was a place of potent magic indeed. Sildëyuir is covered with dells with silver-boled trees and streams. At the borders of the demiplane, the forest grows thicker and thicker, and any track one follows or makes simply bends back on itself. This place is always in perpetual twilight. The sky in the distance above the crowns of the trees is a soft pearl-gray, and it seems as if there is no east or west, for the same source-less illumination lights the horizon no matter in what direction one looks. Near the sky’s zenith, however, the skies are the purple velvet of true night and are filled with preternaturally brilliant stars. During the “night,” the sky darkens into pure blackness.