The Golden Harbor
The bellows of the great furnace roared, a mechanical lung inhaling the damp chill of the foundry floor and exhaling a plume of orange soot that hung in the air like suspended time. Elias stood at the center of the vortex, his hands trembling not from cold, but from the violent, rhythmic pulse that had taken up residence in his chest. He was twelve years old, a boy of sharp angles and pale...
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