The Distant Crown
The fire did not arrive with a warning, but with a roar that swallowed the silence of the valley. It was a dry season, the kind that turned the grass of the highlands into brittle tinder, and the wind had been blowing from the north for three days, carrying the scent of smoke and ash. For centuries, the village of Oakhaven had stood on the edge of the forest, a quiet settlement of stone...
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