The Iron Sun of Blackmoor Fen

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2026-06-21 22:01:21 -

I. The moor wind came through the workhouse bars like a blade between the ribs. Thomas Blackwood pressed his face to the iron bars and watched the Yorkshire sky bleed grey into grey. Below him, the courtyard was a wash of mud and misery, and beyond that, the moors stretched to the horizon like a wound that would never heal. He was twelve years old, and he had never seen a tree that was not bent...

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