Secrets of blooming estate book one

Chapter twelve the aftermath

Sophia gasped as the chamber around her disintegrated in an explosion of light and sound. The ground shook violently beneath her feet, and she struggled to keep her balance. The walls of the chamber cracked, sending chunks of stone falling to the floor, while the roots and vines that lined them withered and crumbled to dust. The heart of the Garden, the pulsating stone she had destroyed, had been the anchor for all this power. And now, it was unraveling.

The blinding light forced her to shut her eyes. She felt herself being pulled, as if something was tearing her away from the physical world. The strange, otherworldly energy of the Garden coursed through her body, surging with violent intensity. For a brief moment, Sophia thought she might be torn apart by the raw force unleashed by the heart's destruction.

Suddenly, there was nothing.

An eerie, suffocating silence filled the void where the light had been. Sophia opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden darkness. She was no longer in the chamber where the heart had rested. She wasn't even sure where she was at all. The world around her was a swirling abyss, like the in-between place she had felt when she crossed the Threshold—an empty void where time and space no longer held meaning.

Her chest ached, and her limbs felt heavy as though the weight of the Garden's energy had burned through her veins. She tried to move but felt like she was floating in an endless expanse of nothingness. Panic clawed at her mind—had she failed? Was she trapped in this void, unable to return?

Then, in the distance, a faint voice called her name. It was distant, muffled, but familiar.

"Sophia..."

She blinked, trying to focus. The voice sounded like it was coming from a great distance, echoing through the vast emptiness. _Beatrice?_ The thought passed through her mind, but she wasn't sure. The voice seemed older, more ethereal, like someone from another time.

"Sophia, you've done well..."

The voice grew clearer, and then, in the distance, a figure emerged from the shadows. Sophia strained her eyes, trying to make out the details, but the figure was blurred and flickering, as if it wasn't quite there. But the voice—it was unmistakable now.

It was Eleanor.

Sophia's breath caught in her throat. Her ancestor—Eleanor Marlowe—was standing before her, or at least, the echo of her was. The figure was faint, almost transparent, but she could see Eleanor's features, her piercing eyes, and the weight of centuries in her expression.

"You've freed the Garden," Eleanor said, her voice gentle but filled with a sadness that cut through Sophia's soul. "But there is a price."

Sophia struggled to speak, her throat tight with emotion. "Eleanor... I... I finished what you started. I destroyed the heart. The Garden's power is gone."

Eleanor nodded, her translucent form shimmering as she moved closer. "You did what I could not. But the Garden was more than just a place. Its power was intertwined with your family—with me, with you. By destroying it, you have severed a connection that cannot be mended."

Sophia's stomach churned. "What does that mean? What happens now?"

Eleanor's gaze softened. "The Garden was a tether between worlds, a place where the boundaries between life and death, reality and dreams, were blurred. Without it, those who are tied to it—those like me—can no longer linger."

The realization hit Sophia like a punch to the chest. "You mean... you're leaving?"

Eleanor smiled faintly, though there was a deep sadness in her eyes. "I was never truly here, Sophia. I've been caught between worlds for centuries, trapped by the Garden's power. Now that it's gone, I can finally move on. But you... you still have a choice."