The air was thick with the smell of ash, a bitter tang that clung to the back of the throat and left a taste like regret. The city, or what remained of it, lay stretched before Jackal like a corpse beneath a gray shroud of smoke. Buildings leaned against one another, their steel ribs exposed, their windows gaping like blind eyes. Somewhere in the distance, a fire still crackled, a stubborn ember r...

The water fell in a silver scroll, splitting the air with a sound that was less a roar and more a hymn - an ancient voice echoing across the moss-draped stones. Beyond the waterfall, the forest hummed quietly with the murmurs of trees - pine, fir, spruce - leaning in like observers over the emerald glade in which they dominated. Mist rose from the river like a ghost, drifting in curling veils and ...