It is a circular space, its tiling a parody of the traditional black and white checkerboard pattern: a fern-shaped fractal curls towards the far end, stippling into infinity.
A resonant warmth of light falls from the low chandelier of crystal. Fairies move from facet to facet in a langorous dance, creating a shifting ambience. The walls are of some dark wood, seamless in a way suggesting one is within a hollowed out tree.
Along the walls are elaborate neo-Victorian sitting chairs and small couches that curl around elegant coffee tables. Were you a guest, you would be served tea and crumbs by soft spoken servants who seem to materialize from thin air. Small groups of fairies detach to congregate above your conversation, sending down muted light.
In the center of the room is a pillar of light, the cold fire of falling fairy dust. Thick motes swirl and eddy and rise beyond the chandelier into the blackness like sparks. To go anywhere in the house, you need but a thought.
Step through the light.