Amaia gazed out at the midnight sky, marveling as the golden neon flowers reached up, their twisted tendrils as if trying to grasp the stars. The air hummed with an ethereal energy, as the night itself seemed to pulse with life.

"Why do you always come here at night, little one?" a soft voice asked from behind.

Amaia turned to see the gentle face of Elara, her guardian, framed in the shimmering light. "Because," she said simply, "the world feels most alive then. And I can sense..."

"Them?" Elara finished, her eyes darkening slightly. "The Others, yes. They move unseen under the stars."