The impact with soft loam and the more solid presence of ripening vegetables was jarring to say the least. For a moment, Eraqus lay stunned, body stiff with the shock of landing, before he winced and rolled onto his side.

It was not home (not that he would likely ever see such a place again in his afterlife time), but.. It was not the Port, either. Surely not - the world around him felt in balance with itself, lacked that caustic feel of the Darkness draining from the day. Rising to his feet was an unstead affair and hushed words under his breath preceded the flow of green-lit magic through lungs and veins. Settling the discomfort left behind by the twist and churn of arrival where...ever this place was.

Dawn, when it should have been the dead of night? Grey eyes squinted, making out other fallen shapes, and the rise of figures close and futher afield. Literally a field, no less! He did not call upon the Keyblade, not yet, and he did not need it on hand to sense familiar lights from familiar hearts nearby.

The faces closest to him were unfamiliar at best, save for recordings from the Newcomer Network -- such as the short but serious looking white-haired swordsman close by.

Eraqus frowned, then moved towards him with slow, but steady strides. "..I take it this place is unfamiliar to you as well?"