The shimmering, almost nauseating sensation of the portal faded, leaving Elias Thorne blinking in the bright midday sun. He wasn’t in his basement anymore, that was for damn sure. Gone was the familiar smell of stale pizza and his mom’s laundry detergent. Instead, he was surrounded by the earthy scent of pine trees and damp soil, the air alive with the sounds of chattering voices and the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer.