The Distant Cartograph
The ink bled through the parchment before the brush had even lifted, a dark, wet wound that spread across the map of the Valley of Ashes. You watched it happen, standing in the center of the drafting hall, the smell of turpentine and stale coal smoke thick in your throat. The map was your life’s work, a meticulous rendering of the territory that the war had torn apart, and now it was dissolving...
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