The Distant Summer

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2026-08-17 23:05:04 -

The hammer struck the anvil. Thomas felt the vibration in his teeth. The forge was hot. Too hot. He was a blacksmith. He was also the King’s son. The crown was heavy. It sat upon the mind. It pressed down. It did not fit. The iron glowed orange. Then yellow. Then white. Thomas lifted the tongs. His arms trembled. Not from heat. From fear. The door opened. Wind rushed in. Dust swirled. A figure...

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