The Distant Cartograph
Elias. The name hung in the damp air of the village square, called out not by a parent, but by the sharp, clipped voice of Elder Halloway, who stood at the head of the council table with his arms crossed over his chest. The boy froze, his boots sinking slightly into the wet mud of the lane, while the surrounding crowd shifted their weight, a collective exhalation of breath that smelled of...
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