With her legs frozen in place as her shadow had been caught by Morpheus, Arabella felt gravity pull her downward. The earth beneath her split open, a muddy mess gaping to swallow her whole. She should have fallen and her body should have plummeted but instead, she floated.
Her feet didn't once sink in, instead it had hovered, her boots relaxed as it touched nothingness as if the air itself had became her staircase.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
The other sorcerers blinked, rubbing their eyes as if the sight before them couldn't possibly be real.
Witches could manipulate most elements including earth, fire, air, and water— but never in recorded history had anyone flown. To rise freely into the air without wings and just mere spells were impossible. They had never seen a magic written to fly, to go against the gravity of the world.
And yet, there she was.
