Georgia's fingers moved slowly, guiding the light with care. The green glow deepened, brighter and thicker, weaving into Amelia's energy field. It touched the gray edges, and the two colors met—one heavy with pain, the other soft with renewal.
The moment they touched, the gray began to thin, curling like smoke in the wind. The green surged forward, strong yet soothing, washing through the dullness and replacing it with warmth. Bit by bit, the red anger dissolved into golden calm, and the faint turquoise and yellow bloomed brighter, reclaiming their place in her aura.
Georgia's face glowed softly under the sunlight, her hair haloed with gold. Her lips moved soundlessly, whispering words that had no language, only meaning. The energy responded to her—alive, obedient, pure.
