The light in the bedchamber seemed strangely dim, as if the setting sun outside did nothing to illuminate the room around Bors and Isla. When he turned his head, searching for something to grasp on to, something to help him resist the pull of the light beyond the doorway, he found nothing that would help him.
The room itself vanished into darkness, leaving only the bed that he and Isla had shared for many years behind, but even that felt strange. Where the bed's canopy should have been, the posts of the bed instead wove themselves together, forming a vast tree trunk with branches that extended in all directions, while the feet of the bed had transformed into thick, gnarled roots that vanished into the darkness below.
