Dahlia and the Garden of Light - Chapter 48: Chapter 48
You are reading Dahlia and the Garden of Light, Chapter 48: Chapter 48. Read more chapters of Dahlia and the Garden of Light.
Moments Before – A Garden Awakens
The air held its breath.
No blades whirred yet. No gunmetal boots crushed sand. But the wind whispered of something coming.
Dahlia stood barefoot in the center of her garden, palms resting on the earth. Around her, flowers pulsed with quiet life—petals opening like mouths to drink the moonlight.
Then, something stirred.
A hum—low and rising—beneath the soil.
And one by one, her plants began to glow.
The flowers she’d sown weren’t just traps. They were threads of healing, woven from her power. Quiet, patient—until now.
The Animals – The First to Feel It
The jackal with the missing eye sat near Derek, tense. Then its muzzle twitched.
Its ears perked up. It growled—not in warning, but in wonder.
Nearby, the old boar, half-limping for years, suddenly stepped forward with steadier hooves. Its twisted hindleg straightened with a crackle and pop of bone. Muscles thickened beneath its hide.
The hawk gave a startled cry and flapped upward—wings slicing the air cleaner, faster. The broken feather it always dragged behind? Gone. Regrown. Strong.
Dozens of others—foxes, snakes, owls, even a weathered mountain lion—stood taller. Straighter. Breathing deeper. Their bodies shimmered, faintly outlined in green.
Derek stared, eyes wide. “What’s happening?”
Dahlia turned slowly. “The flowers are healing them.”
“I thought they were for defense—”
“They are,” she said, voice low with awe. “But the roots go deeper. They chose to heal. Because your animals chose to stay.”
He reached for the jackal, tears stinging his eyes. “They’re not broken anymore…”
“They never were,” Dahlia said softly. “But now they’re whole.”
Watching – Markus and Mira
From the rock ledge, Mira watched the scene below unfold—animals growing stronger, vines pulsing with power, flowers flickering with energy like stars being born. For a moment, even she forgot about the war.
“…She’s different now,” she said.
Markus, arms crossed, nodded. “She was always different. But now she’s becoming what she was meant to be.”
“You think we’ll survive this?”
He hesitated. “If anyone has a shot—it’s her. It’s them.”
Mira didn’t reply. But for the first time, she didn’t check her escape routes. She didn’t grip her knives.
She just watched the garden breathe.
Below – Dahlia and Derek
Derek touched the back of a fox, newly whole. Its fur was no longer patchy. Its tail swayed like a banner.
“I can feel it,” he said. “They’re not just healing. They’re… stronger. Braver.”
Dahlia nodded, eyes glowing faintly green. “That’s what my flowers do when I stop holding back. They don’t just mend wounds—they give back what was taken.”
Derek looked at her, young and trembling but rooted now. “They’re ready to fight for us.”
“Then we fight with them,” she said. “Side by side.”
Rain roared in agreement.
A wave of energy rolled through the clearing. The petals flared, then settled again—like warriors bowing before the charge.
Final Words – Before the Fall
Markus approached Dahlia in the clearing, eyes flicking to the vines that curled protectively around her feet.
He studied her. “You don’t look scared.”
She smiled faintly. “I’m terrified.”
“But?”
“But I’m not alone.”
He nodded slowly. “Neither am I.”
She looked up at him, emotions swelling behind her eyes. “You came back when you didn’t have to.”
“I’ll keep coming back,” he said. “You know that.”
They held that gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then the air shifted again.
This time, they all felt it—engines in the distance, growing louder. A storm—not of nature, but of men and machines.
Derek stepped beside Dahlia. Mira unsheathed her blade. Markus raised the flare gun.
The sky flashed once. A spotlight cut the night.
And Dahlia whispered to the garden, “Bloom.”
The air held its breath.
No blades whirred yet. No gunmetal boots crushed sand. But the wind whispered of something coming.
Dahlia stood barefoot in the center of her garden, palms resting on the earth. Around her, flowers pulsed with quiet life—petals opening like mouths to drink the moonlight.
Then, something stirred.
A hum—low and rising—beneath the soil.
And one by one, her plants began to glow.
The flowers she’d sown weren’t just traps. They were threads of healing, woven from her power. Quiet, patient—until now.
The Animals – The First to Feel It
The jackal with the missing eye sat near Derek, tense. Then its muzzle twitched.
Its ears perked up. It growled—not in warning, but in wonder.
Nearby, the old boar, half-limping for years, suddenly stepped forward with steadier hooves. Its twisted hindleg straightened with a crackle and pop of bone. Muscles thickened beneath its hide.
The hawk gave a startled cry and flapped upward—wings slicing the air cleaner, faster. The broken feather it always dragged behind? Gone. Regrown. Strong.
Dozens of others—foxes, snakes, owls, even a weathered mountain lion—stood taller. Straighter. Breathing deeper. Their bodies shimmered, faintly outlined in green.
Derek stared, eyes wide. “What’s happening?”
Dahlia turned slowly. “The flowers are healing them.”
“I thought they were for defense—”
“They are,” she said, voice low with awe. “But the roots go deeper. They chose to heal. Because your animals chose to stay.”
He reached for the jackal, tears stinging his eyes. “They’re not broken anymore…”
“They never were,” Dahlia said softly. “But now they’re whole.”
Watching – Markus and Mira
From the rock ledge, Mira watched the scene below unfold—animals growing stronger, vines pulsing with power, flowers flickering with energy like stars being born. For a moment, even she forgot about the war.
“…She’s different now,” she said.
Markus, arms crossed, nodded. “She was always different. But now she’s becoming what she was meant to be.”
“You think we’ll survive this?”
He hesitated. “If anyone has a shot—it’s her. It’s them.”
Mira didn’t reply. But for the first time, she didn’t check her escape routes. She didn’t grip her knives.
She just watched the garden breathe.
Below – Dahlia and Derek
Derek touched the back of a fox, newly whole. Its fur was no longer patchy. Its tail swayed like a banner.
“I can feel it,” he said. “They’re not just healing. They’re… stronger. Braver.”
Dahlia nodded, eyes glowing faintly green. “That’s what my flowers do when I stop holding back. They don’t just mend wounds—they give back what was taken.”
Derek looked at her, young and trembling but rooted now. “They’re ready to fight for us.”
“Then we fight with them,” she said. “Side by side.”
Rain roared in agreement.
A wave of energy rolled through the clearing. The petals flared, then settled again—like warriors bowing before the charge.
Final Words – Before the Fall
Markus approached Dahlia in the clearing, eyes flicking to the vines that curled protectively around her feet.
He studied her. “You don’t look scared.”
She smiled faintly. “I’m terrified.”
“But?”
“But I’m not alone.”
He nodded slowly. “Neither am I.”
She looked up at him, emotions swelling behind her eyes. “You came back when you didn’t have to.”
“I’ll keep coming back,” he said. “You know that.”
They held that gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then the air shifted again.
This time, they all felt it—engines in the distance, growing louder. A storm—not of nature, but of men and machines.
Derek stepped beside Dahlia. Mira unsheathed her blade. Markus raised the flare gun.
The sky flashed once. A spotlight cut the night.
And Dahlia whispered to the garden, “Bloom.”
End of Dahlia and the Garden of Light Chapter 48. Continue reading Chapter 49 or return to Dahlia and the Garden of Light book page.