The Distant Cartograph
"Put the seal on the north quadrant, Ioanna. The ink is drying." Kael did not look up from the astrolabe, his fingers steady as he aligned the brass ring. The air in the office was thick with the damp chill of the off-season, a physical weight that pressed against Ioanna’s temples. She watched the ink on the master chart, a black pool that had begun to swirl into the unmistakable, hollow-eyed...
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