Changing Of Seasons Novels & Stories

Nevertheless, the days stretch on longer than usual, each bidding farewell never to be experienced again. Then comes Fall, blanketing the world with layers of leaves. The surroundings gradually lose their vibrancy. Flowers wither, and green grasses die. Fewer animals appear, for a new season is about to be born—one filled with much more torment. This is Winter. The unpleasant weather is compounded by a pervasive gloom. The skies are devoid of sunlight, replaced by a thin blanket of fluffy, grayish clouds that obscure the usual light. The air grows progressively colder. Snowflakes fall, accumulating on the ground and covering the grasses and soils that were once exposed, as well as some parts

I could feel the pulse of magic the tree emitted prick against my flesh, sending goosebumps skittering ominously in its wake, "It does. Spring is earth, for obvious reasons. Winter is water. Fire belongs to summer because of the unbearable heat. And, wind belongs to autumn because of the brisk breeze that whistles through the trees carrying loose leaves through the air." "I never thought about associating an element with the seasons but now that you mention it, it makes perfect sense," his features twisted into a pensive frown as he mulled over this new information. Every day he learned something new about my kind, things no outsider knew, "which season would shadows be connected to? I'm gue

He looks at the view. The Spring occurs once in a century. Ever since he was born, he has seen the flower in the trees outside his room. Slowly growing, he would often stare at it and wonder why it never changed. He read a book in their castle library that there are 4 seasons. The Spring, the Summer, Autumn, and Winter... consecutively. These 4 seasons happen in a cycle of a century. But on the other ream. Which were called the Mortal Realm, where beings like Humans exist. Everything happens so fast.

Silently of course, hoping somehow the amount of love that swells in my chest is somehow transmitted along to the tiny little treasure inside me. However, after three months things are finally changing. Autumn has arrived, bringing with it darker nights, loss of forest cover as the leaves tumble. For the past couple of nights howls and clattering noises have sounded above me. Hybrids requently heading out to fight. Change is in the air. That thick humidity before thunderstorms fall makes every garment uncomfortable and sleep impossible. My guard is reduced to one and even the Doctor stops visiting daily.

Moana’s POV The change in seasons was always heralded by the wind off the Northern Crags, but this morning, the air carried something different. It wasn't the bitter sting of the Frost-Bound or the oppressive ozone of an approaching Assembly vanguard. It was the rich, damp scent of turnip harvests, dried cedar, and the clean crispness of early winter.