There were engravings of verse encrypted within the darkness of the storm, and within a momentary drift of balance, they were transformed into a stillness that seeped through far beyond the silence could fathom. Here lay a sign, a final piece of art that lay ruin to the misguided demeanours of the past. An ancestral call. A truthful bond so severe, that to deny it, would be as though to wipe the traces of time from its very existance.

We were fashioned in form to obey. Let us bow to the will of our call..