Dahlia and the Garden of Light - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

One warm afternoon, the schoolyard buzzed faintly in the background, but Dahlia and Amy sat tucked away beneath their favorite oak tree, where sunlight streamed through the branches like golden ribbons.
Amy twirled a dandelion between her fingers, staring at it with unusual seriousness. The breeze ruffled her curly puffs.
“If you blow all the fluff off in one go,” she said, eyes focused, “you get a wish.”
Dahlia glanced sideways. “What would you wish for?”
Amy hesitated, her thumb tracing circles on her knee. “…I wish I had powers. Like you.”
Dahlia blinked, surprised. “Why?”
Amy plucked a blade of grass and tied it in a knot. “Because sometimes… I feel small. Like, in a world full of big things, I don’t have anything special.”
Dahlia frowned. “But… you do. You so do.”
Amy snorted gently. “Yeah? Like what? I can’t make flowers glow or heal skinned knees with daisies.”
Dahlia leaned in. “Okay, but you walk into a room and everyone’s smiling five minutes later. You say exactly what people need to hear without even trying. And you’re not scared of anything.”
Amy raised an eyebrow. “That’s not true. I’m scared of deep water. And talking to grownups with mustaches. And sometimes I’m scared you’ll outgrow me.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I mean…” Amy looked down. “You’re magic. Real magic. I’m just… a kid with glue-sticky fingers and loud ideas.”
Dahlia reached out and took Amy’s hand. “Hey. Don’t say that. If I’m the magic… then you’re the reason it matters.”
Amy didn’t speak for a moment. Then she laughed softly. “That was so cheesy.”
Dahlia grinned. “You started it. With the wishing dandelion.”
Amy held it up. “Alright then. Let’s test it.” She puffed her cheeks and blew. Some fluff clung stubbornly to the stem.
“Ugh! Okay, that means my wish almost comes true,” she joked.
Dahlia tilted her head thoughtfully. “What if I help it along?”
She waved a hand lightly over the flower. The remaining fluff shimmered, gold catching the sunlight, and lifted into the air like tiny fireflies.
Amy gasped. “Did you just—”
“Maybe,” Dahlia said with a mischievous grin. “Secret superhero perk.”
The golden fluff danced higher, twirling above their heads, then scattered like wishes across the sky.
Amy watched in awe, mouth slightly open. “That’s… the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Dahlia rested her chin on her knees. “One day, you’re going to do things even bigger than this.”
Amy turned to her. “But what if I never get powers?”
Dahlia smiled. “Then you’ll just have to keep being amazing the normal way.”
Amy wrinkled her nose. “Boring.”
“But effective,” Dahlia teased.
They lay back in the grass, arms folded behind their heads, watching the golden dandelion seeds disappear into the blue.
“I’m glad you picked me,” Amy said quietly.
“I didn’t,” Dahlia replied, just as soft. “You showed up. And I think… maybe the world sent you.”
Amy turned her head. “You mean like fate?”
“Or like friendship,” Dahlia said. “Which might be the same thing.”