The Golden Myth

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2026-08-20 10:22:02 -

The Golden Myth

The axe bit deep. Wood splintered with a sound like a bone breaking. I did not look up. I kept swinging. The rhythm was a prayer. In. Out. In. Out. The village of Oakhaven lay behind me, silent under the grey sky. The war was over. The treaty was signed. The kings had gone home. But the smell of iron remained in the air, thick and wet. It clung to my beard. It stained my nails. I was Eamon....

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