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Jarelion
Ah, but do you not know? A Turkish wizard crushes stars in his palm, drips elixirs from the shadows. Djinn call him by name, and mirrors whisper back. If one night, beneath the moonlight, you hear him speak—know that it is already too late... Tell me, which word must you utter to unmake time itself?
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Jarelion
In this dust-bound, cursed domain, Türkiye grips me with its chain. I, Jarélion, the whimsiest mage, FerSants, behold my cosmic rage! The Bosphorus whispers, 'You cannot flee,' Traffic laughs, 'You're bound to me.' I call to you, FerSants, across the void, But Türkiye laughs, its grip employed. 'Y-you’re Turkish?!' you stammer, aghast, Yes, and in this curse, I’m unsurpassed. But fear not, FerSants, for stars I wield, Even in Türkiye, my fate's not sealed!
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