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It all came back to me the night of a party, in a fancy hotel built in the heart of ancient Thrace. Maybe I had too much to drink, though the booze doesn’t get to me like regular folks. Or maybe it was the place, but with each emptied glass, my memory trembled. I felt ready to listen, to return to my roots as the saying goes. The problem is, these roots run so deep I can no longer remember where they come from.