A small desert village

The sun above baked the desert, causing wisps of heal to bend and manipulate the landscape. As the citizens of such a place went about their business, one person not used to this weather slowly wandered into town. His face and body completely covered by a hood and cloak, attempting to stave off the violent rays of light that threaten to burn him. His companion, however, was not as inconspicuous. Rather, she seemed to draw attention to herself. Towering at over 8 feet in height and wearing what looked like a stereotypical genie garb, she practically soaked up the sun as she walked with a slight spring in her bare feet.

"Now THIS is my kind of weather!" She beamed, nudging the other figure affectionately. The other figure didn't respond. "A little dry, but this sun! Man it feels good! A lot better than that anti-magic dump, that's for sure."

"Let's just hope you didn't forget some details for this place too, like maybe it's filled with the undead, or there's an army about to kill us all...." The figure retorted in a young man's voice. The woman rolled her eyes.

"Please, it was their fault for being so afraid of magic in the first place! Also, I'm still mad that you desummoned me. You know how much I hate The First World...."

The man removed the hood, revealing a young elven face. He looked up to the woman with sincere eyes.

"It hurt me as much as it hurt you, Phoebe. I had to though, otherwise they'd kill you."

The woman didn't respond at first but sighed and had a slight smile on her face.

"Yeah....sorry."

The two hugged, mostly the woman nearly crushing him, before continuing on through the streets.