Driftrock is a world written by Enneth.

At heart, Enneth is an artist; she likes her works to send messages to the heart and soul, even if they are not strictly practical. The eerie world of Driftrock is, as examples of this tendency go, not a bad one.

To describe conditions on the surface of Driftrock is a tall order, for the surface itself is not accessible, if indeed there is one; from above, which is the only vantage point available, there is only an endless field of deep blue that is neither solid nor water, and no more is known. Enneth has flown down as far as she dared, only to find layers where it becomes hard to breathe, and has come no closer to the strange blue sea.

Everything of interest on Driftrock occurs within a shell of atmosphere several kilometers thick; here, drifting - indeed, hovering - among the clouds, are vertically-oriented spires of rock and crystal, ranging from chunks a few inches across to massive islands, hundreds of meters tall. Their ability to float appears to be related to the crystal veins permeating them, and the altitude at which each does so appears to be a function of both total mass and the proportion of crystal to rock. The spires are not anchored to anything, and are free to drift on the wind; it is not unknown for them to crash into each other, and for clouds of small pieces to form a particularly nasty sort of hail during a gale. How the spires are produced is not clear, but they form in the blue expanse below; new ones rise up quickly from the depths at long intervals, like a cork held underwater and allowed to pop up, whereas ones that are old and eroded will eventually sink.

The winds in this layer are no stronger than any seen on Avishraa, but are nonetheless nearly constant and frequently accompanied by rumbling thunderstorms and rain. It is only from those spires that extend below the clouds that the blueness below is visible, and only from those that extend above that the open sky can be seen. The sun is bright but the color not of the same warmth as Mikurmiya, and it moves quickly across the sky, returning to the same place approximately once every 17 rests.

Life is present, but relatively sparse. Vegetation consists of algae, small fungi, and lichens; these form the basis of a small food web consisting almost entirely of smallish air-travelling creatures. Some propel themselves with brief jets of air, “jumping” between spires; others are bloated gasbags drifting as gently as the spires; others are capable of true flight, though these are rare and mainly predators. Few of the animals are edible, but a visitor obliged to stay for long periods could cultivate a rather bleak-looking garden for her needs.

Enneth has fashioned a sparsely-furnished outpost in a hollow on the lee side of one of the larger, newer spires; short of an unexpected catastrophe, it will remain airborne for hundreds, if not thousands of cycles yet. She rarely stays there for more than a vigil or two at a time, and for a purpose rather like camping: to get away from people and civilization and safety for a while. Her main home away from home, however, is in Bubbles in the Dark.