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Rodin heard the water long before he saw it; a deep roar that grew with each step, slowly taking over his conscience, drowning everything else. And now, looking into the depths of the chasm, he could make out the raging torrent, half-hidden in a mist of its own making.
Behind him, to the south, the dusty soil gave way to scrubland, with trees growing thick to the east. But over the chasm, away to the north, the land was barren.
Last time, Rodin had been on that far side.
The memories flooded back, a cascade of images and emotions. He let them come. What used to be nightmares were now a comfort, reminders of a time before Rodin the mercenary. He didn’t even need to shut his eyes to relive them.
First came the walk across the stony ground, cold beneath his bare feet. He felt th
