Dahlia and the Garden of Light - Chapter 83: Chapter 83

It was the first morning the sun had returned without apology — no mist, no gray veil, just pure, unfiltered light spilling across the worn stone paths of the ruined zoo.
Derek moved slowly, careful not to disturb the hush that had settled over the place. Birds trilled in the distance. Petals from Dahlia’s gifted blooms shimmered faintly near the enclosure, their bioluminescent glow slowly dimming in daylight. The warmth in the air felt… like a promise.
He carried a tray of food — slices of meat, rainwater, wild figs — balanced in one hand, the other reaching to unlatch the iron gate.
Inside, the lion was pacing.
But something was different.
No longer emaciated, The lion's frame had filled out with muscle, sinew coiled with purpose. His golden mane was brighter, and his movements — tense, measured — held a kind of readiness. Like he was waiting for something. Sensing something.
Derek froze as the wind shifted, catching the petals in the corner of the enclosure. They lifted — not like they were blown, but like they chose to rise — spinning gently, forming a soft spiral of light and scent.
The lion paused mid-step, head tilting.
Then it happened.
A pulse — not loud, not violent. Just a hum in the bones of the world.
The lion’s legs buckled.
Golden light burst around him like steam off sun-heated stone. His body twisted, shimmered, fractured across the air. Fur peeled back into skin, claws curling into fingers. Bones snapped, realigned. Muscles reformed.
And then silence.
Derek dropped the tray. Fruit rolled across the floor.
In the straw lay a boy. Maybe eighteen. Lanky, shaking, naked, but unmistakably alive. His chest heaved with ragged breath, and his limbs trembled like a fawn taking its first steps.
Derek stepped forward slowly, stunned. “Holy… Are you—?”
The boy’s eyes flicked open.
They were golden.
Same gold. Same depth.
He blinked hard against the light and tried to speak. The words came out hoarse and unfamiliar. “My name’s Leo,” he rasped, as if trying it on for the first time in years. “I think I forgot… how to be human.”
Derek crouched beside him, gently placing a blanket from his satchel over Leo’s shoulders. “You did it,” he said quietly. “You came back.”
Leo’s gaze flicked toward the petals. “It was the flowers. They whispered. They reminded me I wasn’t just muscle and hunger. I was… someone. I used to talk. I used to dream.”
“You still can,” Derek said. “You just needed time. And light.”
Leo exhaled, slow and long. “How long has it been,"
Leo sat up, knees drawn to his chest. “Four years I think, ” he whispers, as if tasting it. “I thought it was endless. I didn’t know if I’d ever… feel the sun on my face again.”
“I was starving,”. “My body locked in survival mode. The shift takes energy, and I didn’t have enough left to become myself.”
Derek nodded while listening. “The zoo was safe. For a while. Food came. Then it didn’t. I tried to leave… I couldn’t change back. I thought I was stuck. I thought maybe I wasn’t real anymore.”
Derek reached into his pack and pulled out a canteen. “You’re real. And you’re here. And you’re not alone.”
Leo drank greedily, water spilling down his chin. “You could’ve left me.”
“I don’t leave people or animals,” Derek said simply. “Especially not when they’re trapped.”
Leo looked at him. “You talk to animals. I saw it. Heard it. Even when I was lost, I could feel it. You don’t command them. You… ask.”
Derek smiled faintly. “Animals understand respect. Sometimes better than people.”
Leo laughed — a sound rusty from disuse but full of wonder.
Inside the Keeper’s Shed – That Evening
Wrapped in a blanket, sipping broth, Leo sat by the lanternlight.
“I was nine when I shifted the first time. My mother had the gift. Said it came from her grandmother. I thought it was just… play.”
“And four years ago?”
Leo swallowed. “I got caught. Hunting. They thought I was just an animal. Locked me up. At first it was okay. Food. Quiet. Then the zoo closed. Everyone left.”
Derek looked at him with quiet awe. “I thought I was dreaming about a lion because I was broken. Turns out, you were the one dreaming.”
Leo smiled faintly. “You pulled me out.”