The Golden Song

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2026-08-22 22:39:43 -

The Golden Song

The tongs in Elias’s hand were cold, the iron biting into his palm as he held a sphere of molten glass that glowed with a dull, arterial orange. He was forty years old, and his knuckles were swollen from a lifetime of heat, but his eyes were clear, fixed on the faint distortion in the air above the crucible. The feast for his brother, Thomas, was in full swing in the great hall of the Guild of...

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