The Pale Path
The soot of the Millhaven Ironworks did not merely settle on Elias Thorne; it became him, a fine, grey dust that worked its way into the pores of his skin and the creases of his knuckles, marking him as property of the machine. He was twelve years old, though he had the hollowed look of a man who had already spent his entire life in service to another, his eyes fixed not on the gears before him...
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