A clarion horn calls. Rich in timbre it be, and mirthful in deed. The cry of a noble soul yearning for the righting of wrongs, the seizing of glories, the finding of peace. The great ringing of unfathomable trumpets, wreathed in the deepest fog, the most sacrosanct of truths hidden within us all. It resonates in every beast of the field and in every bird of the heavens, and truly, in the hearts of all. Go now! Strike out and find its tune! For art thou not strong of sinew and stout of heart? Find it in the gleaming sword held aloft o'er the waves, in the tranquility of a bucolic expanse, in the levity of a companion's embrace, in the shimmering golden eternities locked within the light that streams through the boughs of the trees. Go now and become! Go now and ascend! Go now and find yourself, wherever you may be. For there in the most unlikely of places, if you let yourself listen, you may just hear its song.
