The Faded Quadrant
Chapter One Bjorn Gundersen pressed the nib into the vellum, his hand trembling not from the cold but from the fever that had settled into his marrow like damp wood. He was thirty-four, a cartographer in a remote northern outpost, and he wanted to finish the final quadrant of the regional map before his tuberculosis worsened, a desire that felt less like ambition and more like a physical...
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