A figure with hair like spun silver and skin that glows faintly under the moonlight stands on the edge of a crumbling tower. The western sky behind them is a canvas of swirling violets and golds, where stars flicker like distant lanterns. They stretch their arms wide, and the air around them hums with an electric charge. "Look to the sky, " they whisper, their voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken dreams. As they leap, the ground below fractures into fragments of earth that float upward, defying gravity. They soar, untethered, their laughter echoing like wind chimes in a storm. Below, shadowy figures with grasping hands and hollow eyes shout warnings, but their voices are swallowed by the vastness of the sky. "I’m flying free, " the figure declares, their form shimmering as they ascend higher, a beacon of defiance against the wizards and their hollow promises. The stars themselves seem to bow as they pass, and the heavens whisper back, "No one will ever bring you down. "