The Distant Cartograph
The map was wrong. That was the first thing Elias noticed. He held the parchment tight against his chest, the edges curling in the damp air of the cave. The ink bled, but the lines remained. They were sharp. Too sharp. "Look," he whispered. His brother, Julian, did not look. Julian was sitting on a flat stone, his back against the cold rock. His eyes were closed. He breathed shallowly, a rattle...
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