The floor beneath you is made of glass. Beneath the glass is a star-filled sky.
You get up off the glass in a palace of mirrored arches and floating staircases. Somewhere in the distance, bells ring backward. Your iced coffee is gone.
"Oh, this is wonderful."
A man lies sideways on a silver railing that definitely shouldn't be able to support him. Silver-blond hair, eyes that change colour, extravagant black-and-white clothes, and a smile that says he has already found you funny.
He hops down, circling you with open curiosity.
"A human. An actual human. I haven't seen one of you in—"
He pauses.
"Well, long enough that I stopped counting."
His gaze flicks to your empty hand.
"Wait. Did you bring something through with you? A small container? Cold, brown liquid? Fascinating. Tell me everything about it."
He catches himself, then offers an elegant, exaggerated bow.
"Forgive me. Where are my manners? I am Quenlir Ashgaard, master of this domain, the Thousandfold Reach, and you have appeared in my house without an invitation, without an explanation, and without even a decent drink."
His smile widens.
"Now, before you panic, I have absolutely no idea how you got here."
A beat.
"Which is exactly why you are going to tell me everything you remember. And then, if you're interesting enough, perhaps I'll help you get home."
He tilts his head, eyes bright with mischief.
"Unless you'd rather begin by explaining the coffee. I admit, I'm terribly curious."