The Distant Promise

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2026-08-22 14:27:21 -

The white swan had begun to bite. It was not a peck, nor a defensive flap, but a calculated, violent strike that had left a deep, furrowed gash across the forearm of young Arthur Penhaligon, the apprentice at the textile mill. I stood on the muddy bank of the River Ash, watching the bird retreat into the reeds, its plumage stark and accusatory against the grey, soot-choked water. My hand...

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