The Distant Cartograph
Chapter One The ink did not dry; it waited. Anca Adamyan sat at the drafting table in the processing ring, the recycled stock of his family photo tucked into the collar of his tunic, a small, warm weight against his throat. He was mapping the valley’s crevasses for the charter, a job that required steady hands and a silence that felt less like peace and more like a held breath. The Abbot, a man...
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