The Pale Fracture
The fracture did not start in the bone, but in the ink. Elara Vance stood before the Great Loom of the Aetheric Weave, her fingers stained with the black, viscous fluid that served as both fuel and scripture in the city of Oakhaven. Outside the high, arched windows, the sky was the color of bruised iron, heavy with the soot of the steam engines that drove the looms day and night. It was the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews