"Dunling technology?"
That place-name had been coming up a little too often in his recent life.
Thinking back carefully, Professor Calman's letter had indeed mentioned a breakthrough in Dunling's glassmaking technology. The creation of entirely new glass instruments had given Morrison the chance to discover the Black Fluid.
Kraft hadn't thought much of it at the time. It turned out the breakthrough had come much earlier than he'd imagined, and it had also been a far greater leap forward. He wondered what kind of "alchemical reagent" had brought about such a dramatic improvement in the glass's purity, and the joining technique had exceeded his expectations, too.
He hadn't expected to come across something so interesting while visiting a church. If the gods existed, perhaps they really were impartial and selfless, offering inspiration even to someone like him, whose family hadn't had a believer in three generations, in the earthly dwelling of the Heavenly Father's will.
"Why do you say there won't be any more?" Surely the Church hadn't crossed the river and burned the bridge—making the creator disappear after the church was completed to ensure this would remain the only example in the world?
Given the nature of this era, it wasn't impossible. Some unique handwritten books, after all, had the copyist's finger bones embedded in their covers and adorned with precious metals and jewels, to show they were truly one of a kind.
Such cruel acts were sometimes a way for scripture copyists to express extreme devotion, creating a treasure worthy of a church's precious collection. Or perhaps they were more often done willingly?
The last thing Kraft wanted to hear was that the creator of this technique had been erased along with his craft. That would dash his dream of owning such wonderful instruments.
Fortunately, the truth was