Inez closed the books that she had collected. She wondered if she could ever finish the ancient hymns written by the goddess of healing herself. When she picked up the task, she thought, –Oh sure, it's going to be as easy as eating a little pie. After all, she was a siren; this should be in her blood. Only now did she realise that it wasn't that simple.
She didn't feel the tug, nor could she see the aether turning golden whenever she finished writing the lost verses of the hymns. According to the book, the aether—the very soul, the mana or the magic within the hymns—was supposed to turn golden if a siren succeeded in writing the correct hymn.
But forget about turning the aether golden; Inez couldn't even see any fizzle of it till now. No wonder the sirens who tried to rewrite these hymns turned crazy. Because she, too, could see herself walking down the same path. The lost hymns were not just hymns; they were the legacy of sirens – one that every siren dreamed of.
