The Distant Cartograph
The harvest feast of 1892 was a triumph of excess in the square of Oakhaven, a town where the air always tasted of woodsmoke and old grudges, and Magistrate Elias Thorne stood at the center of it all, his face flushed with the wine he had poured for the elders, his eyes scanning the crowd with the cold, precise assessment of a man who believed he was the only thing standing between order and...
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