The Distant Cartograph
The clock on the wall of the Municipal Survey Office ticked with a heavy, mechanical indifference that Elias Vance felt in his teeth. It was four in the morning, and the gas lamps hissed their thin, blue flame, casting long, trembling shadows across the drafting table. Elias had been working for nineteen hours, measuring the bends of the River Thorne against a grid of iron rules. His hands were...
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