A Mantra

The field, for now, lies quiet. The only sound you can hear is the wind gently blowing. If you close your eyes, you can see the ghosts of the greatest warriors of all time, each one given the task of being guardian for the new warriors. Open your eyes, and the names of those warriors surround you. Tonight, their spirits will all be here.
Shortly before sunset, after all the swords have been sharpened, all shields polished, our General shall lead the legion onto this field for the very first time. Our Captain, who has not led a battle in many months, shall proudly carry the Horns upon this sacred ground. The entire legion has awaited this day for a time that seemed as though it would never end.
The newest of the warriors are questioning their readiness for this night. They know they have been chosen to bear the symbol of the Horns, and are honored to wear the Blue and Gold uniform next to some of the greatest warriors in history. Still, they cannot help but quake in awe of the battle that draws nigh. One of our elder warriors, one who remembers the dark ages, one who has fought in the old arena, steps forward.
“Eons ago, in the days before most of the Legion were born, the Spiralhorn had achieved greatness. Before all warriors wore the symbol of the horns into battle, a Captain had led the Legion to victory. Even though we have not always won the Great Battle of Winter, we have always been a force against all rivals. We have many spoils of war, but only one time have we been the Champions of all.
“I have worn the symbol of the Horns with pride since the darkest days of our history. I was one of the victorious that won the Great Battle. I have seen many of our greatest fall on the field you are about to enter. I have seen other warriors who were here for only a short time.
“One thing, one prize, gave them the hunger for battle: The right to be called the greatest warriors of all. We have been there before. Once, we were called the greatest. We shall be again.
“When you step onto the field of battle tonight, remember this: The hopes of the entire Legion are carried upon your shoulders. Do not fear, for the spirit of those who came before you shall guide you. You have been selected for your skills. You have trained for this day. There will be a flag of battle carried before you this night. Look upon it with pride, and carry yourselves with dignity, for you wear the same colors of Blue and Gold. We are the Legion. We are proud. We are courageous.”

As the elder sat, one lone voice came from the Legion. Within moments, the one voice became a chant, and soon the entire Legion spoke those words in unison. The words carried across the land, and those who wished to see the Spiralhorn defeated began to fear, for thousands of voices carried one message.

“I BELIEVE!”