The Pale Echo
The parchment in your coat pocket is cold, a chill that seeps through the wool and settles in the bone, a sensation that has nothing to do with the autumn air. You are Elias Thorne, a cartographer of forty years, and you are holding a secret that is slowly killing you. The war has turned the valley into a place of ash and silence, a no-man’s-land where the lines on the map have stopped meaning...
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