The Distant Threshold
The furnace held a heat that pressed against Elias’s skin like a living thing, a constant, suffocating breath that never let him rest. He counted the seconds in his head, one through ten, watching the molten gather on the end of the pipe, a glowing orange eye staring back at him. The commission was simple, or so the lord had promised, a single vessel of clear glass for the dining hall, but the...
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