The moment Aether stepped through the door, the interior of the inn swallowed him in warm light and clean order. It was nothing like the warped corridors or looping shadows outside. This place looked… crafted. Stable. Real.
The entrance opened into a wide main hall built from dark, polished wood that had been oiled until it reflected the lanterns above. The floorboards were long and straight, fitted together so tightly that not even a sliver of dust could slip between them. Each board carried a soft grain pattern, swirling gently like waves frozen mid-motion. No creaking, no shifting underfoot, every step felt grounded.
