The Distant Cartograph
The carriage wheels grind against the loose gravel. You feel the vibration in your teeth. The sky is a bruised purple, heavy with the promise of rain. You are traveling to the estate of Lord Ashworth. You carry a leather case. Inside, you hold the map. It is not a map of land. It is a map of souls. You are a scholar of the invisible. You study the architecture of the human heart. You call it...
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