The Distant Cartograph
The candlelight in the Governor’s great hall did not merely illuminate; it judged, casting long, distorted shadows against the tapestries that depicted conquests you had helped secure with your own hands. You stood in the center of the room, Elias Thorne, a border warden of twenty years, your breath shallow in the heavy, wine-sweet air, clutching the iron-banded map case that contained the only...
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