Saying goodbye to Amelia

Amelia's reaction was swift and firm, her face screwing up in distaste at my suggestion of air as the superior element.

"Air is my least favorite," she said, her voice firm and resolute. "It's so...dry. It can't even hold its shape."

She glanced at me, her expression stubbornly determined. "And sure, flying might be cool, but I'd much rather control the ocean tides or freeze a lake with the snap of my fingers."

My hand flew up to my chest in a gesture of feigned injury, my face transforming into a mask of mock hurt.

"Ouch," I said, the word drawn out in a dramatic sigh.

Amelia's eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in surprise as she gaped at me.

"Your element is air?" she breathed, her voice hushed with surprise.

My expression grew solemn, my words tinged with a sense of tragedy.