All that remains of the legend of Phaedrus is an old song passed down from generation to generation
The song of Paedrus
We follow the light that unites,
we were Phadrus’s children. Four
in magic, loyal acolytes,
though gone, his fate we can’t ignore.
The lights of Poiesis and Phroneo
shine deep below the ware line;
casting magic where none would know
a pink and orange twine.
Light as a feather in the wind,
Kurious and Xenia magic;
their slow and floating dances swing
like a cloud-made, winged basilisk.
Dynamis and Nekros, the lights
of immovable strength like rock;
behold, for these are common sights.
Cities are built upon such bloc.
Philos and Ares, combusting
The proud flame that will never die;
for the magic is threatening
an impossible world of dry.
We follow the light that unites,
Phaedrus casts a shadow no more;
we know in the darkest of nights
his bright new light will make us four.