He stood where they lay. He stood six feet tall, they layed six feet under. Here he was, at the graveyard that brought all the painful, all the sad, all the angry memories he harboured for one thousand years. Over five hundred gravestones were placed in the ground, each looking like they were made just the day before: clean, prestine and ever living. In one hand he held a bouquet of roses and in the other, a bottle with swishing liquid inside and eight small dishes.

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