The Distant Cartograph
The fever broke not with a burst of clarity, but with a profound and terrifying silence. Inside the stone tower, where the air tasted of wet limestone and old blood, Elias watched the rain hammer against the narrow, arrow-slit windows. The water did not fall; it struck, a relentless, grey curtain that blurred the world outside into a smear of mud and broken branches. He was a prisoner of his...
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