Snippet: A Pulp Moment

(Here, have a Robert E. Howard pastiche.)

“Know, O prince, that between the years when your ancestors brought the last of Eliéra’s shining cities beneath their aegis, and the years of the rise of the Thirteen Worlds beyond the Gates, there was an Age undreamed of, when gleaming habitats of steel and stone cloaked the twin suns in a jewel-studded mantle, when the lands and winds of far-flung spheres knew our shaping hand at last, and the old world dreamed beneath its new-wrought sky.”

(Because sometimes the pulp is strong with this one.)

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