The Distant Cartograph

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2026-08-22 08:27:49 -

The ink was drying on the vellum when the pain started. It began as a prick, a small, sharp burn against the left side of Sir Thomas’s chest, just beneath the collar of his tunic. He did not flinch. He had learned, in his fifty years of service, that the body’s complaints were merely taxes to be paid, not commands to be obeyed. The map lay before him, a sprawling expanse of parchment that...

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