Jorghan sat in the oversized chair, designed for eight-foot elves, which made it almost comically large for his six-foot frame, with his bare feet propped on the table. His shirt lay discarded somewhere across the room, and he'd made no effort to retrieve it.
The morning sun streamed through the massive glass window, illuminating the city below in golden light that made Dewura'tt look even more magnificent than it had the previous evening.
The view was hypnotic.
From this height, he could see the entire city sprawling across the mountain face—the terraced buildings, the winding streets, the massive waterfall still flowing from the elephant's trunk, and the gardens thriving in impossible places.
Beyond the city's edge, the abyss yawned—a darkness so absolute it seemed to swallow the light rather than merely reflect it back.
