Ripples on water.
Concentric circles flowed outwards from where a stone had disturbed the surface.
The ripples were symbols of an ancient language. A language old as Time itself. Nature spoke this language and it was present in the intricate patterns of veins in leaves, in the shapes formed by fluffy innocent-looking clouds, in the tongues of flame that licked the air up greedily and released its own acrid fumes into the atmosphere. It was everywhere.
If you could read it, you could harness that ancient power and use it.
Reign over the land that was given to you.