It told a story... the story of Prythian. It began with a cauldron. A mighty black cauldron held by glowing, slender female hands in a starry, endless night. Those hands tipped it over, and, from it, golden sparkling liquid poured out over the lip. No – not sparkling, but... effervescent with small symbols, perhaps some ancient faerie language.
-Sarah J. Maas
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