The Distant Clue
The mist does not rise so much as it remembers, a thick, grey tide that swallows the Blackwood Ridge in 1893, erasing the horizon and the distinction between the solid earth and the void above it. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-two years old, a surveyor of the Crown’s lands, standing at the precipice where the map ends and the unknown begins, your hands white-knuckled around a brass theodolite...
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