The Wistful Skyline
The quill scratched against the vellum, a sound like a fingernail dragging across a chalkboard, as Elias pressed his shoulder against the cold stone to keep the page from drifting. He was twelve years old, small for his age, with hands that were perpetually stained blue-black to the wrist, and he was copying the final star of the constellation Orion from the forbidden map, a task that would...
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