Syrlya-land is a lot less comforting, being somewhere deep in the humid jungle that's littered with the debris of shredded and smashed military airships tangled in thick, thorny vines. It's a silent battlefield, and over a cliff Syrlya stands on the wreckage, looking out at the distance.

The sounds of other people breaking the silence fets him to stop and turn to them immediately, initially tense. The he blinks rapidly, confused for a second before it comes back to him.

"Oh! You've made it. That is good, we weren't certain this would work..."