While most of the other worlds were either torn up and smashed together to produce the new world, or sequestered behind mystic veils and the like, Empyrea’s lot is different. No, Empyrea as she was is still entirely intact. You just can’t get there. Not on purpose, at any rate.
The old tales of the Elves sailing Westward across the sea, seeking their Grey Havens? The old Dwarven custom of inclining their heads down toward the earth, where the Deep Heavens lay? All of these customs and legends now have a ring of truth to them.
Empyrea (and Narvandier, for that matter) has never attracted the souls of the dead; that was solely the realm of the gods. (What happens to souls in the godless Conjoined world is still up in the air.) No, Empyrea attracts those who are dedicated, those who are victorious, those who are bold and those who are confident. It also attracts those who are shiftless, defeated, cowardly and unsure. Empyrea is accessible to anyone acting in accordance with his or her true nature and maintaining control over their own destiny.
Control is the key. So long as one keeps the reins taut, no matter their individual configuration or destiny, reaching Empyrea can be as simple as stepping through the familiar doorway of your favorite bar, finding instead a heavenesque realm of intense sensations. Getting back, of course, is a little less easy. While Narvandier sank into the earth, Empyrea floats distributed throughout the skies. Angels, birds, and other flying creatures are right at home, but poor wingless saps (those lacking a handy shot or three of Feather Fall, at least) may have a bit more convoluted journey home.
If you should ever find yourself suddenly transported to Empyrea, bear in mind that although the Angels claim to know what’s best for the new world, travelers might do well to keep their wits about them; what’s best for the world may not be what’s best for you, and indeed, may not even be what’s best for anyone but the Angels.