From the Novel
"
Words desert Hyacinth. To hear his name coming from Apollo's lips is synonymous with the sublime. He can only nod as something stirs deep within his soul. What was dormant now awakens. His previous life, beguiled by dancing shadows, is no more. He is reborn abloom, and a blissful grief settles within upon realizing that, after hearing the God of Music's voice, the rest of the world will sound dull, and even the most exquisite of songs a hollow echo.
"
"With you at last," Apollo declares, only for Hyacinth to hear, "the future is no longer just a memory." His eyes encapsulate a cloudless midday sky, yet his gaze holds a sagacity capable of piercing the celestial dome and venturing into infinity.
"
Is there anything more outrageous, more wicked, unnatural even, than for the world to cheer for her youngest half-brother as he steals what by indisputable rights belongs to her? Yet it seems that, in everyone's eyes, her birthright is to be left with the sour crumbs.
