Artos kept his balance as best as possible after Felix took him through the portal. Unfamiliar with such forms of travel it quickly overwhelmed his senses as the world all but seemed to shatter and reform in an instant, depositing the shaky swordsman in a living area entirely unfamiliar to him. 

Commotion started, and already the white haired youth felt out of place. Robed, hooded, armored, both swords attached to his hips, his northern pale skin identified him as an outcast in comparison to the tanned flesh of the others.
As the commotion with Nemo started, Artos swooned. The air was warm to a nearly suffocating degree, so familiar with the cold climate of home. The THUMP of his body hitting the ground was accompanied by a soft groan.

"sorry.. I'm not used to warm climates.." 

He panted and channeled his magic, a dull chill permeating from his body.