The Distant Blade
The resin was drying too fast, a tacky amber web stretching between the jagged edges of the glass. Elias pressed his thumb against the crack, feeling the grit of the shard bite into his skin, and watched the reflection waver. It was not his face that looked back, but a distortion, a smudge of gray and bone that seemed to age before his eyes. He had been at this for three hours, his back aching,...
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