The Distant Legend
The brass lid of the compass cracked under the pressure of Elias Thorne’s thumb, a sharp, metallic shriek that cut through the heavy silence of the attic. He did not look up. His hands, stained with the grey dust of decades, moved with the mechanical precision of a man who had forgotten how to tremble. He was packing the last of his father’s tools: a set of calipers, a chisel worn smooth by...
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