"Lyon..." Luce's mutter echoed in this vast realm of emptiness.
In the mystifying dance of feathers, Luce's eyes widened in astonishment as the delicate plumes, once suspended in the air, abruptly descended to the ground. The unexpected cascade left Luce in a state of bewilderment.
"W-What's going on?" she questioned, her voice tinged with both surprise and uncertainty. The ethereal display seemed to defy the laws of the unseen forces she usually wielded with confidence.
The feathers, in a seemingly whimsical attempt, lifted once more, seeking to reconstruct the ethereal silhouette that had momentarily graced her solitude. Yet, much to their defiance, the delicate plumes faltered again, scattering in a poetic disarray.
