The Distant Cartograph
The ink had not yet dried when the frost bit through the parchment, a sharp, physical severance that split the vellum along the line of the valley Elias had spent five years tracing. He held the sheet with both hands, the weight of it negligible, yet it felt as heavy as the guilt that had settled in his marrow since the Duke’s command, a silence so total it pressed against his eardrums like...
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