The Distant Cartograph
The hearth fire in the great hall of the Ashworth estate burned with a ferocity that seemed to consume the very air, turning the night into a thick, orange haze where shadows stretched and twisted against the stone walls like grasping hands, and amidst the chaos of clinking silver and the heavy, cloying scent of roasted meat and spiced wine, Silas stood by the window, his fingers trembling not...
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