She was everything. Her beauty, her power, her touch. The way she commanded the winds, bent gravity to her will and made the world tremble beneath her. It wasn’t just strength. I could never look away when she moved, when her hair danced in the storm she conjured, or when her eyes blazed with the force of a thousand tempests.

We were so close to freedom, so close to a life where we could wake up to the sound of her laughter instead of the chase. But they knew her secret, her origin and the bottle that could cage her.

Now all I have are the memories. I wonder if she still lingers in that bottle, her touch as soft in her mind as I remember it on my skin. Does she ache for me the way I ache for her, the way my hands long to hold her again, to trace the lines of her face, to lose myself in the perfection of her eyes?

I imagine her beauty still glows, even in that cursed prison and I would give anything... my soul, my life, my very being to see her again like in my dreams.

NOTES:
I love Love when it works. I think of times when I had it all, but lost it all too. What a cruel joke life can be for both parties.

NO AI USED (Not uploaded a website for "upscaling", no Stable Diffusion, etc. Just used Affinity Photo 1.0 and the free Google Snapseed)