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... The liquid, dark, yet holding a purple hint, like puthral armour stained in blood. Jurot remained silent for a long while, staring at the cups, holding his between his finger and thumb. He stared at the liquid for an age, looking to the past.
“My first memory was of grandfather,” Jurot admitted. “It was raining that day. I did not understand what had happened at the time, but he was full of rage. He was so… big. Red. Strong. As a boy, I knew grandfather was strong before I knew the meani ...
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