After Event-X, when so many cities were reduced wholly to rubble, Son Lomas became as a city trapped between being and unbeing, whereby it earned the name the “City of Ghosts”.

From a distance the city appears and vanishes in an instant, such that one will perceive either a jumble of abandoned buildings or a shimmering metropolis, bathed in an eldritch blue glow.

If one moves closer, one can see the moving lights of vehicles. Closer still, and the figures of people walking by on bustling sidewalks. If you stand in the right place, you may even be able to hear the city—however faintly.

Some have posited that Son Lomas is trapped inside a rudimentary time-loop, whereby its inhabitants are doomed to live out “the day before” in perpetuity. It seems more likely, however, that the city continues to experience linear time.

We simply do not know how.

“The Neverous Ether is a place-outside-all-places, an “Eternal Transience” through which all other worlds drift like pieces across the playing field of that great game called “The Conflict”.

Despite existing beyond, or “outside of”, what we would commonly refer to as reality, the Neverous Ether is nonetheless visible to those who visit, or more commonly, find themselves trapped there.

The “sky” of the Neverous Ether is a glowing, unearthly pink. A colour that carries with it all of the burdens of nostalgia and pain; such is the memory of the Ether, forgetting nothing. This humbling, sardonic sky is shot through with tendrils of purple cloud that twist and writhe like smoke. These are the thoughts and actions that exist within the Ether; the forces of soul and intention. Distant shining lights are visible, each one a gatewaty to a different universe.

The most notable structure to exist within the Neverous Ether is a long-abandoned shrine devoted to some unknown god.”

— F.D. Truman, “Foundations”

Those creatures that some would call “elves” but in reality are of fey-blood, spawned by the Great Tree in opposition to Lilith’s creation of the Vampire Tree, which birthed those called upir, or “vampires”.

Fey who have not forsaken their magic (see Choosing Mortality) are able to “join with the forest” by transforming themselves into trees: these are the Whispering Trees.

The trees are so named because when the wind passes through a grove of Whispering Trees you can hear the voices of the fey; speaking warnings, or riddles. If one places their hand against the bark of such a tree, it is possible to hear the voice of the fey who chose to transform themselves (it is possible this relies on the psychic ability of the individual touching the tree, though this is yet to be confirmed).

It is not unheard of for Whispering Trees to grant pieces of themselves to those who carry heroic blood, usually for the forging of weapons. These weapons are imbued with something of the spirit of the tree, often creating weapons of considerable power–especially against upir.