The Faded Frontier
The map was wrong. It had always been wrong, but only now, standing in the mud of the valley with the rain hammering against my oiled canvas coat, did I realize how deeply the error had been woven into the fabric of my life. We had been walking for three days. My boots were heavy, soaked through to the bone, and every step felt like a negotiation with the earth itself. The forest here was not...
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