The Distant Cartograph
The carriage wheels groaned against the packed earth of the royal highway, a rhythmic, grinding sound that seemed to drill directly into the hollows of my skull. I sat in the corner of the open carriage, my hands folded tightly in my lap, watching the mist rise from the valley below like the breath of a sleeping giant. My father sat beside me, his spine rigid, his gaze fixed on the distant...
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