I dreamed last night that I was in Minas Tirith. It was just before first light, but I was up and clothed. As I looked through the casement of my chamber, I saw a sight that had not been seen in the memory of any man living. On a hill beyond the wall of the city, the great beacon was ablaze, to signify that open war was upon us. Bending to look out, I saw men already running through the streets, and arming themselves. I shouted to encourage them, in so loud a voice that I awoke.