And then he spoke - the Magus. Of a magick more ancient and arcane than others. A magick like no other - a magick so resplendent that all others seem to pale in its presence. Indeed all others seemed to emanate from it. And to return to it. The one magick that was both freely given and difficult to seek at once. The magick that gave time and space their meaning, the magick that made the sun and the moon glow, the magick that caused the passage of seasons. The one magick all men and women understood and excelled in, while masters failed. The one more sought than a Philosopher's Stone, more potent than an alchemist's elixir. And it is this magick he called "Love"
