This is a tale buried in history:
One day, a student elated in victory,
Dashed around the Grove's territory —

“I saw the spell the professor carved on his body!”^[1]
The youth with white hair was beside himself in joy,
“It must be a power most secret, a means for one man to stand against a thousand!”

That spell was rare indeed, for it was —
A secret way to overturn a cart of hay.

The scholar was still a mortal body,
As yet to snatch life from death,
Or to reforge a new flesh through a god's remedy.

Various minute tricks and parody,
He studied them all, crafting schemes, oh so busy.

For everyone knows —
He wishes not to use the divine power that is his, refusing rightful custody.

And in that unwitnessed moment of his death, final tragedy,
He still held the hay cart spell steady,
Standing alone, facing the evil enemy.

Now, that craft is regarded as a magnificent study,
Not because of what it was,
But because of its purpose, known to everybody.