The Faded Quadrant
The soup boiled over. It hissed. Steam rose. Thick white clouds. They curled. They clung to the ceiling. The pot was black iron. It sat on the stove. The stove was stone. The stone was cold. The kitchen was dark. Only the fire glowed. Orange. Red. Blue at the core. Elara stood there. She held the wooden spoon. Her hands were small. They shook. A little. Just a tremor. She was seven. She was...
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