The Distant Journey
The brass lid of the compass snapped shut under the thumb of Elias Thorne, a sound like a small bone breaking in the quiet of the carriage. He was thirty-four years old, a sergeant with twelve years of service etched into the calluses of his hands, and he was currently defying a direct order from Colonel Halloway, who had labeled him a coward three days prior for hesitating at the drill. The...
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