The Distant Legend
The furnace coughed. It was a dry, rattling sound, like a man clearing phlegm from a throat lined with rust. Elias stood in the shadow of the blast, his hands resting on the cold iron of the control lever. He did not move. The heat was not here yet, but the memory of it was. It lived in the marrow. It lived in the walls of the Ironworks. "Read the gauge, Elias," said Millard. His voice was...
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