The Golden Master

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2026-08-18 05:42:14 -

The Golden Master

The forge sat in the corner of my father’s hall, a mouth of iron and ash that breathed only when he fed it. I had grown up in the shadow of that heat, learning the language of hammer on anvil before I learned to read the scriptures. We were smiths, the Ashworths, and our name was etched into the gates of the county, into the ploughshares of the neighbors, and into the very soil of the valley....

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