The Distant Cartograph

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2026-08-23 22:22:55 -

"Put the quill down, Thomas. You are trembling." The voice of Brother Anselm cut through the silence of the scriptorium, sharp and dry as the winter air that seeped through the stone cracks of the cathedral. Thomas did not look up. His hand hovered over the parchment, the nib of his quill wet with ink that had not yet dried. He was twelve years old, small for his age, with hands that were...

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