could<\/em> do what you do. We\u2019re on the brink of a new age, one in which everyone has a chance to do what was once considered magic. Where no one is limited because their parents weren\u2019t wizards.\u201d<\/p>\nI could feel my body going numb as he spoke. This was madness, sheer madness. \u201cNo one will want to work in a place like this. At first they\u2019ll be excited to do something they once called magic, but that\u2019ll only last so long. Once the novelty wears off, once they\u2019ve seen what kind of devilry this really is, they\u2019ll go back to whatever they did before. And the smiths will come back to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Fletcher smiled again, looking far too self assured. \u201cWe\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n
By the time I got home my anger had been tempered into outrage.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy God, what happened to you?\u201d my wife Sarah asked as I entered the apartment above my shop.<\/p>\n
Realizing I probably still smelled of soot, I explained to her what Fletcher was doing. She sat while I paced back and forth in front of her, growing angry again just speaking about it. In the background I could hear my daughter Alice starting to cry. I tried lowering my voice, but when I got to Fletcher\u2019s comments about wizards I couldn\u2019t help but shout.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s terrible,\u201d Sarah said when I finished. \u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll have to speak with my customers, I suppose. Try to make them see reason. I\u2019m sure they\u2019ll come around, given time.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah didn\u2019t seem to share my confidence. \u201cAnd in the meantime? Alice is too young for me to go back to work, and with three of us to feed\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have enough saved to last for a while,\u201d I said, trying to sound reassuring. \u201cWe\u2019ll get by.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nThe next day I went to speak with the other smiths. I explained how Fletcher was creating his steel, how it was a far cry from alchemy. In return I got nothing but disinterest and a few looks of sympathy. It seemed the others didn\u2019t care as much as I\u2019d hoped.<\/p>\n
So I went to speak with the mayor. \u201cThis furnace is an abomination, and it\u2019s ruining my business,\u201d I told him. But he wasn\u2019t concerned either.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what do you want me to do about that?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cStop it. Non-wizards shouldn\u2019t be allowed to make steel; it\u2019s unnatural.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUnnatural maybe, but it\u2019s profitable. I\u2019ve spoken to Fletcher; did you know he has over a dozen people working for him now?\u201d<\/p>\n
I hadn\u2019t, and said as much.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s bringing gold into this town,\u201d the mayor said, \u201cmore than it\u2019s seen in years. I can\u2019t argue with that.\u201d<\/p>\n
What more could I say? I\u2019d told them this was wrong, what I saw this turning into. If they didn\u2019t want to listen, I would just have to wait until they saw the evil in it for themselves.<\/p>\n
In the meantime I tried selling glow stones for less than the price of a gas lamp, but it cost nearly that much to make them. Soon our savings started running dry. I wasn\u2019t using my enchanting equipment, so I sold it. I sold my inscriber, my decanter, my burners, my pyroglasser. I sold until one day I walked down into my office and found every shelf barren except one. It held the bare minimum I would need for steel-making. I suppose I should have sold that too, but it would have felt too much like giving up.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat now?\u201d Sarah asked me that night.<\/p>\n
\u201cI just need a little more time,\u201d I said. \u201cWe can get by another two weeks. People will come around, I know it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd if they don\u2019t?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen I\u2019ll look for something else to do,\u201d I said. \u201cTwo weeks; I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n
Two weeks came and went, but nothing changed except my purse getting lighter. One more week, I promised Sarah again. Then just one more week after that. Each time I could see her faith in me dwindle a little, but what could I do? It wasn\u2019t that I didn\u2019t intend to keep the promises when I made them. Things would change soon; I was sure of it.<\/p>\n
But they didn\u2019t. Another promise came and went, and then one day Fletcher came into my shop. I was immediately suspicious.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Fletcher didn\u2019t take the bait. \u201cI hear you\u2019ve been busy, speaking with all the smiths. Tell me, how many have you gotten to go back to you and your arcane arts?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d I said again, my eyes narrowing to slits.<\/p>\n
\u201cEasy, Alemnus, I came to make amends. I know you have a wife and child to feed. Your daughter\u2019s what, a year old?\u201d<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI came to offer you a job. You\u2019re still an able bodied man, and I could use another strong pair of arms. It\u2019s not glorious, but it\u2019s honest work.\u201d<\/p>\n
I gripped the edge of my counter, knuckles going white. \u201cYou insult me in one breath and then offer me a job in the next?\u201d<\/p>\n
Fletcher smiled, holding up his hands defensively. \u201cI\u2019m trying to do you a favor. I know you haven\u2019t had much work lately.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was about all I could take. \u201cGet out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be a fool, Alemnus. I\u2019m offering you a way out.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stepped around the side of the counter, my hands clenched into fists. \u201cNow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave it your way,\u201d Fletcher said, and showed himself the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlemnus!\u201d Sarah called out the moment the door closed. I spun to find her at the top of the stairs leading from the shop to the apartment. <\/p>\n
\u201cAlemnus, he offered you work. We need the money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe came here to rub salt in my wounds,\u201d I said. \u201cThat\u2019s it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow many times have you promised me you would start looking for another job? And then one falls into your lap and you don\u2019t even consider it? Don\u2019t even speak to me before you turn it down?\u201d<\/p>\n
I knew the look on Sarah\u2019s face, a mix of disappointment and bewilderment. Now I was in trouble.<\/p>\n
\u201cSarah I\u2019m sorry you had to see it, but I can\u2019t take a job from him. I\u2019m a wizard.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, and a husband, and a father. You want to see why you should have said yes?\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t, not really, but when she stormed up the stairs I knew I had to follow. She flew into the kitchen, throwing open cabinets one by one.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmpty. Empty. Empty.\u201d The doors slammed against one another as she flung them open. From the other room I could hear Alice start to cry again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe can\u2019t go on like this, Alemnus. If you need to swallow your pride and work for Fletcher to put food on the table, that\u2019s what you need to do. We\u2019re at the end. I\u2019ve sold my jewelry, my dresses, what more do you want me to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
She was so distressed it pained me to look at her. \u201cI just need a little more time. It can\u2019t be much longer now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d she demanded. \u201cWhy won\u2019t you take another job? If not from Fletcher then from someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was so clear to me. Why couldn\u2019t she see it?<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t just take other work. How can I convince smiths to leave Fletcher if it looks like I\u2019ve already given up?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah stared at me, imploring.<\/p>\n
\u201cUnless you want me to give up,\u201d I said. \u201cIs that what it is?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot give up, move on.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere is no moving on. Wizardry isn\u2019t just a job; it\u2019s my career, and it\u2019s a part of who I am.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah\u2019s eyes burned like coals. I wasn\u2019t sure if I\u2019d ever seen that kind of anger in her before, and it scared me.<\/p>\n
\u201cFine.\u201d She spat the word like a curse. \u201cKeep waiting. But I can\u2019t, and your daughter can\u2019t. If you can\u2019t take a job I\u2019ll take her to my sister\u2019s in Greyspring.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSarah, you can\u2019t do that.\u201d For the first time a note of panic crept into my voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can and I will.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sarah turned away, and I followed her into our bedroom, watching as she gathered what few clothes she had left. Alice was still crying, so I picked her up and rocked her in my arms. I tried stepping between Sarah and the dresser, but she didn\u2019t back down. She put her hands on her hips, glancing down at Alice<\/p>\n
I handed our daughter over.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going, Alemnus. Let me know when you\u2019re ready to be a father again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nI think it was sometime after sundown when it hit me that she\u2019d really left. That night was the longest of my life. I kept waiting to be woken by Alice crying, to learn I\u2019d dreamt up the whole argument. But the house was silent. I spent another few days speaking with the smiths, but by that point even I could tell it wasn\u2019t doing any good. By now the changes were undeniable anyway. People were leaving their farms, coming from the villages to work for Fletcher. The building itself grew, inching ever closer to my home as a second chimney was added. A third quickly followed, then a fourth. Soon it would be so big people would have no choice but to see the evil in it. But soon didn\u2019t come quick enough.<\/p>\n
Two weeks after Sarah left, Fletcher made his first offer to buy my shop. \u201cI\u2019m doing you a favor,\u201d he said, just as he had when he offered me a job. I turned him down the same way. He came again a week later, then a third time the week after that. By then my wizard\u2019s robes hung loose off my shoulders. The flesh had melted from my face, so that I barely recognized myself in the mirror.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you want from me?\u201d I asked him, unable to keep the dejection from my voice. <\/p>\n
\u201cSame as before. I want to buy your shop.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou ruined me,\u201d I said. <\/p>\n
Fletcher sighed. He wasn\u2019t wearing his glass contraption today, but that only annoyed me more. I didn\u2019t want to see him as human. \u201cMy gripe is with your profession, Alemnus, not you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I held back a laugh; you could no more separate me from wizardry than separate my mind from my body. But the shop\u2026 Maybe that was different. I could buy it back once the world came to its senses.<\/p>\n
Fletcher was still speaking, making me an offer. It was generous, even more so than the previous ones. \u201cSo, what do you say?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
I bit my lip, toying it over. I would still be a wizard, so long as I kept my equipment. Buildings could be replaced.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
The next day I walked out of the shop with my alchemical equipment bundled into my last spare set of robes. Finally I handed over the key.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re doing the right thing,\u201d Fletcher said. \u201cAnd the other offer still stands; I can always use a good set of arms.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned my back before he was finished speaking. I forwarded almost all the money to Sarah, and then I found myself standing alone on the street. That was the first night I spent outdoors.<\/p>\n
They tore down my home the very next day. In its place they added another wing to the blast furnace. Another chimney. I was watching the construction when Professor Thesius walked in front of me.<\/p>\n
\u201cProfessor?\u201d I could barely believe my eyes.<\/p>\n
He turned. \u201cAlemnus, is that you? You look\u2026 what happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI fell on some hard times,\u201d I said. It sounded more dignified that way, as if my robes and hair didn\u2019t give away where I\u2019d been sleeping.<\/p>\n
Thesius nodded. \u201cHaven\u2019t we all. Believe me; I miss the old days as much as anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cHeading east, looking for a new trade. Maybe I\u2019ll move through Greyspring and then on to Haplor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about the academy? Who\u2019s teaching alchemy?\u201d<\/p>\n
Thesius tilted his head to the side. \u201cYou haven\u2019t heard? The academy is closing. No one wants alchemists anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
The academy was eight hundred years old; it couldn\u2019t close. \u201cWhat about all the other disciplines?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSome held out longer than others. Potion-makers were doing well, but that\u2019s changing. Something new called chemistry. People are still buying charms, but that\u2019s soft magic. You don\u2019t need the academy for that.\u201d<\/p>\n
My head swam, like I\u2019d had too much to drink. But by now I could say the words by rote. \u201cThe world still needs alchemists; once people realize how evil these changes are, they\u2019ll come back to us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEvil? People\u2019s lives are getting better, Alemnus. People can afford more, do things which were once the domain of a select few. The world\u2019s changing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you\u2019re just going to let that happen? You\u2019re running away?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll I\u2019m doing is changing with the times.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCall it what you want, you\u2019re running.\u201d<\/p>\n
Thesius scowled. \u201cAnd what would you have me do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStay and fight. Call for a return to the way things were.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that what you\u2019ve been doing? Because it doesn\u2019t seem like anyone\u2019s listening. It\u2019s too late anyway; the world\u2019s moving on, and it\u2019s leaving you behind.\u201d He gave me a pitying look. \u201cGoodbye, Alemnus,\u201d he said, then started walking away.<\/p>\n
He took ten steps before I called out after him. \u201cYou\u2019re a coward, Thesius!\u201d<\/p>\n
He stopped and turned. \u201cYes, maybe. But at least I\u2019m not a fool.\u201d He turned back around, and that was the last I saw of him.<\/p>\n
His words played over and over again in my head as I sat on the side of the street. He was right about one thing; no one was listening any more. No one was paying attention. It was too late to just call for change; I had to create it. Something strange came over me then, a kind of manic certainty I\u2019d never known before. If the townspeople wouldn\u2019t throw Fletcher out on their own, I would just have to help them along.<\/p>\n
\nThe flames leapt into the night sky, sending out showers of sparks. Ten, twenty feet high they climbed, as if the inferno within the furnace had come free of its confines. I could still feel the slick of the oil between my fingers, smell the kerosene. I could have done it with magic, but it seemed more fitting this way, letting one bit of technological devilry destroy another.<\/p>\n
I expected it when they came to put out the blaze, everyone in town forming a bucket line. Living on the street seemed to make me invisible, and they passed me by without a second glance. The last flames were out by the time the sun set. What I didn\u2019t expect was everyone coming back the next day to rebuild. The entire town pitched in, raising new walls and filling in what fire had eaten away. A week later one could hardly tell anything had happened.<\/p>\n
Why? I shook my head, struggling to comprehend. It didn\u2019t make sense. Unless they really cared about the forge. Unless it really meant something to them. The reality sank in slowly. I was too late; their minds were already made up.<\/p>\n
I sank to my knees and then sat down in the alleyway. My stomach was tied in knots, a combination of grief and hunger. A part of me thought about going to Greyspring, the part which yearned to see Sarah. To see my daughter\u2019s smile again. But I couldn\u2019t face them like this. <\/p>\n
That was when I made the sign.<\/p>\n
Wizard
\nWill Work For Food<\/em><\/p>\nI chose a spot across from the forge. Looking at it repulsed me: the columns of smoke, the workers moving mindlessly in and out like bees. But at the same time I couldn\u2019t take myself away. Part of that plot of land had been my home. It was more than just a stretch of ground; it was where my daughter had been born, and where I\u2019d made my first sale as a wizard.<\/p>\n
The next day I had the first person stop. He was stocky, probably no more than twenty. One of the strangers come to work for Fletcher, no doubt. But my eyes were drawn to the sandwich he carried in one hand, missing only a single bite. He gave me a look, half amused and half suspicious, then pulled a glass and metal contraption from his pocket. Spectacles, I\u2019d heard them called. One of the lenses was cracked down the center.<\/p>\n
\u201cThink you can fix these?\u201d he asked. \u201cDamned backwater town doesn\u2019t even have a lens-grinder.\u201d<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t help but chuckle. \u201cIf you asked me a few months ago I could have fixed your eyes, made it so you didn\u2019t need those things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd how much would that have cost me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSixty gold marks,\u201d I said. The number sounded comical; what I would do now for a single copper bit.<\/p>\n
The man laughed. \u201cNo wonder you ended up like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe materials are expensive, and the labor–\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cSave it,\u201d he cut me off. \u201cCan you fix them or not?\u201d He held out the sandwich, making himself clear.<\/p>\n
I lowered my eyes to the ground. \u201cYes, I can fix them.\u201d<\/p>\n
He handed them over. I didn\u2019t even need equipment for something this small, and a few minutes later it was done. The man turned the lenses over in his hands, apparently satisfied.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere, enjoy.\u201d He tossed the food onto the ground. I dove for it, snatching it up and biting without even bothering to wipe the dust off. After going so long without, it almost hurt to eat. It wasn\u2019t until I was done that I stopped to look at myself. To consider what I was doing. What I saw revolted me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy God, what have I become?\u201d<\/p>\n
My fists clenched as the tears came, hot and sudden. It wasn\u2019t worth it. The certainty swept over me like a wave. I\u2019d had a family, a home, a life. I had traded them for pride, and I just sold that for a sandwich. It wasn\u2019t worth it.<\/p>\n
I stood up, my bones creaking from the time spent out in the elements. In an eye blink I crossed the street to the blast furnace. I hesitated for a moment, reaching out for the doorknob. If I went in, sold myself to Fletcher, there would be no going back. I pictured my wizard\u2019s robes left in the mud, saw myself hauling coal and iron, my face covered in soot. Then I saw Sarah, the way Alice\u2019s cheeks blushed when she laughed. I turned the knob.<\/p>\n
The silence threw me. The roar of the bellows and clanging of hammers was gone, replaced by hushed voices. With the furnaces cold the place was surprisingly dark, somber even. I found Fletcher in the back, near his office.<\/p>\n
\u201cI came to take you up on that offer, if it still stands,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Fletcher looked like he\u2019d just tasted something rotten. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
The remark struck me back a little. I\u2019d been afraid he would make me throw myself at his feet and grovel, but I didn\u2019t think he would just turn me down.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook, Fletcher, you win. I\u2019ll work for you.\u201d The words left a sour taste in my mouth, but I knew what I was doing was right.<\/p>\n
Fletcher took off his goggles, wiping them on the side of his apron. \u201cThat\u2019s not it. There\u2019s no job for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI might be dirty, but I\u2019m as strong as the next man.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you\u2019re here to gloat, there\u2019s the door.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGloat?\u201d I tried to piece together what I was hearing. Just a minute ago everything seemed so clear.<\/p>\n
\u201cLike you haven\u2019t heard?\u201d Fletcher said. \u201cI\u2019m letting a third of my workers go.\u201d <\/p>\n
That would explain the mood. \u201cWhy?\u201d I asked. <\/p>\n
\u201cBecause the smiths have found someone else, that\u2019s why. Someone\u2019s found a way to make it better than I can.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you can\u2019t do the same?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe has some new process, some way of making the steel stronger.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned, confused. An annealing adjustment wasn\u2019t something to close shop over. \u201cWhat kind of inclusions are you using?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cInclusions?\u201d Fletcher looked puzzled for some reason.<\/p>\n
I stopped a moment, trying to decide if he was being genuine. \u201cTo adjust the properties. Like mirror-iron, for carbon.\u201d<\/p>\n
Fletcher looked at me like I was speaking another language.<\/p>\n
Could he really not know? I spouted off the most common additives and their properties, one after the other.<\/p>\n
Fletcher\u2019s jaw dropped. \u201cWhere did you learn chemistry?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve never touched your \u2018sciences\u2019. Any alchemist worth his salt knows about inclusions. You\u2019re telling me you\u2019ve never heard of mirror-iron?\u201d<\/p>\n
Fletcher shook his head. \u201cI\u2019m not an alchemist, I just do what works.\u201d He paused, scratching his chin. Then something in his eyes lit up. \u201cCome take a look at this.\u201d<\/p>\n
He started away so fast he was nearly running and, not knowing what else to do, I followed.<\/p>\n
\u201cSee here,\u201d he pointed to a bunch of metal bars, \u201chow it\u2019s blistered? It has something to do with the cooling curve, I just haven\u2019t been able to\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
He trailed off, because I had already turned away. I grabbed the first thing I could find, an iron poker, and started scratching formulas into the dirt floor. For a moment Fletcher just stared, and then he grabbed another poker and started writing equations next to mine. I wasn\u2019t sure what he was doing, until I took a step back and looked at them side by side. The symbols were different, but the relationships were the same. I was startled by how much of it I understood. More importantly, I saw the omissions, the little tweaks missing here and there. Maybe we weren\u2019t speaking different languages. We just had different alphabets.<\/p>\n
We looked up at the same time, and I could see in his eyes he understood too.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout that job: I think a position may have just opened up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo shoveling or hauling?\u201d<\/p>\n
Fletcher shook his head, smiled, and held out his hand. It was calloused and covered with the scars of a lifetime of metalwork, not so different from mine. Maybe there was a little alchemist in him after all. And maybe there was more to me than being a wizard. <\/p>\n
I thought of Alice, picturing the way she giggled when Sarah rocked her in her arms. I would have to throw myself at their feet, to beg Sarah for forgiveness. But the thought of humbling myself no longer bothered me. It was time to put wizardry aside. Time to be a father again.<\/p>\n
I stuck out my hand and shook.<\/p>\n
Author Joseph Argento is an engineering student at Manhattan College and hobby blacksmith.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I didn\u2019t realize what the building meant when I watched it go up. I didn\u2019t know what a blast furnace was, or a converter. I didn\u2019t care when the first plumes of smoke rose from its chimney. It wasn\u2019t until the orders stopped that I realized my life had changed forever. It started with the …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":21,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10,23],"tags":[1340,24],"class_list":["post-608","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fantasy","category-tcl-3-spring-2012","tag-fantasy","tag-the-colored-lens-3-spring-2012","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/608","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/21"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=608"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/608\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139717,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/608\/revisions\/139717"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=608"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=608"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=608"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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<\/a>I knew I\u2019d come across something terrible the moment I stepped through the door. This was no alchemist\u2019s lab. The center of the room was dominated by a furnace the size of a small home, and from the heat I might have stepped into hell itself. It was a blistering heat, the kind that makes you squint and turn your gaze away. The air stank of coal, soot and iron.<\/p>\n