As the six figures dissolved into dust, Amelia's gaze stayed fixed on the silhouette in the sky.
Her thoughts raced, but her body remained still, frozen by the display of power.
The figure slowly descended, gliding effortlessly through the air.
Amelia squinted as the figure drew closer, and what she saw took her breath away, a woman, no older than herself, with a beauty that seemed otherworldly.
Her skin glowed with a soft, porcelain light, and her long, dark hair flowed like eclipse, framing a face that looked almost too perfect.
Her violet eyes shimmered with a deep, unreadable emotion, as if they held the wisdom of ages.
The woman landed gracefully, her presence commanding elegance.
Without hesitation, she bowed deeply.
"I've returned, young master," she said, her melodic voice full of respect.
Amelia blinked, thrown off. Young master?
Spark, completely unfazed, stretched lazily.