This door was a circular portal made of a sand-scoured copper with thin aquamarine triangles ringing its frame. It was old and the metal was warm to the touch, but not too warm--like a nice cup of something hot on a cold day. The door itself opened in a spiral, and the soft whoosh of air was heavily scented with the bitter cinnamon scent of spice melange and an odd ozone tang that was faintly metallic at the back of one's throat.

There was something clean about it. Clean and calm and quiet, but beneath that, there was fire.

This was an odd place. Everywhere there was sand and rock. Stone trees were adorned with rustling, glowing aquamarine crystal leaves that shone brilliantly in the sunlight. Their light pooled in bright refracted blues that glittered across sand and the polished twisting rocks. Shapes, endless shapes, drifted within the forest of rock and crystal. Here and there one might catch a glimpse of a face, a smile across the lips of an old woman, a younger one, fleeting laughter, even deep discussion.

A glowing line threaded its way from trung to trunk, glittering and humming as it wound through the forest. At the center, the very dead center, was a most curious sight. A massive tree of light and rock had erupted like some sort of strange fountain, its roots threaded and twisted within the sand and rock. It was thick, massive, even, and its trunk was a braided mix of both light and worn rock. Coiled around the base of this tree was a massive Shai-Hulud. Sandtrout swam in a sand pool, swirling the surface of reddish sand as they moved.

It was here that Arha Masaari sat, her face upturned, bathing in the light of the tree, with a sandtrout and a swirl of sand suspended a few inches in the air, hovering over her palm.