The Distant Cartograph
The rain against the windowpane of the manor house sounded like static, a low, ceaseless hiss that filled the silence of the study. Elias sat at the heavy oak desk, his hands resting on the leather-bound journal. It was a thin volume, unremarkable in size but infinite in weight. For three weeks, he had not slept. The words on the pages did not describe the world; they dictated it. Every...
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