Chapter 88: The Garden of Secrets
Zora floats through the enchanted garden like a child in a toy store. His glowing boots barely touch the mossy floor as he flits from glowing flower to luminous fungus, muttering rapidly under his breath.
"Bioluminescence reacting to spiritual proximity... fascinating," he mumbles. A magical notebook and quill hover behind him, furiously scribbling notes as he darts from one specimen to the next.
The three witches trail behind him reverently. Unlike Zora’s buzzing energy, they move slowly, lovingly brushing their fingers over curling petals and whispering blessings to the vines. They sniff flowers, caress tree trunks, and sigh like they’ve returned to the heart of the world.
Vuvi sits on the soft grass, back against a glowing tree. Penelo and Lula curl beside her, and Veena sits cross-legged, scribbling notes in her journal while sneaking glances at the temple’s ornate ceiling.
The Seedmother sits before them, cross-legged on a throne made of twisted roots and vibrant blooms. Her beauty is unearthly, her skin glows with the shimmer of polished bark, and her eyes swirl with stars. Every word she speaks carries the rhythm of wind rustling through leaves.
"Long ago," she says, voice soft and melodic, "the world was full of balance. Spirits and sentients lived in harmony. The forest sang, the stars whispered, and the rivers told stories. But that was before the rise of unchecked progress."
Veena leans forward, frowning. "What do you mean by balance?"
The Seedmother smiles sadly. "Balance between need and want. Between flesh and spirit. Vexena’s father, the last Demon King... he tried to restore balance. But his way was... extreme. He conquered a world that had grown soft, complacent. His reign gave rise to invention. Machines replaced rituals. Convenience replaced connection. Magic was no longer sacred. It could be stored in runes, sold in vials, mass-produced."
Vuvi’s eyes go wide. "A-Alchemy?"
"It played its part, yes. But there was so much more." the Seedmother nods. "And with innovation, came distance. Between sentients and spirits. We spirits faded, forgotten. The forest lost its voice."
Veena sits back, shocked. "What about my mother’s curse? The... the one that stopped love and..." she trails off.
The Seedmother’s expression grows pained. "Ah... Vexena." She exhales like a tree sighing in the wind. "She did not create the curse. Her power was so vast, so pure, it became the perfect vessel. The curse, this... disconnect, this void of intimacy. It emerged from the imbalance, it was already seeded in the world, waiting. The moment balance tipped too far... it bloomed through her. She was merely the one to release it."