The Distant Cartograph
The frost had settled on the glass of the conservatory like a fine, white powder. Elias Thorne stood alone, his breath a small ghost in the cold air. He held the brass telescope. It was heavy. The metal was warm from his hands, yet the world beyond the lens remained frigid. He adjusted the focus. The city of Oakhaven sprawled below, a tangle of iron and soot. Smoke rose from the chimneys, thick...
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