Eating From Our Roots Novels & Stories

It was the only thing Mama and I had in common, our shared desire to live someplace always warm. At the end of the day, with our limbs numb from digging roots from the frozen earth, we huddled together and ate a flavorless meal. Occasionally, once or twice a week, we would have oats made with molasses. It was our only treat as the days ran together while we waited for the lush green bounty of spring. Tonight would not be one of those nights.

She knelt in the cold soil, her fingers tracing the outlines of the beds, the hidden geometry of roots and bulbs. One afternoon, she found a small, forgotten bulb, half-buried in the leaf litter. She turned it over in her palm, feeling its firm, dense weight. It was alive. It was waiting. She planted it carefully, deeper than before, and covered it with a layer of compost. "You're a root person," Liam said, appearing at the garden gate. "Always planting things that are invisible." "Roots are where the promise is," she said, brushing the dirt from her hands. "They're what hold everything together when the top parts are gone."

While the species here were different, many shared similar characteristics with the flora back home and she found herself identifying edible roots and medicinal herbs that some of the women had walked right past. "This one," Mel said, crouching near a cluster of round, deep purple fruits nestled low to the ground. She plucked one and held it up. "The skin is rough, which means it's ripe. If it were smooth, you'd want to leave it for a few more days." Gerda peered at the fruit and raised a brow. "We've seen those before but never picked them. No one knew if they were safe."

One less complication in a world made of them. We moved on to the deeper brush, looking for tubers and the edible leaves we used for salad. As Ariana bent over to pull a root from the earth, I found my eyes straying. Despite the weight she’d lost, she still looked healthy. Her frame was leaner, her muscles more defined, and her ass... well, it was still round and plump against the fraying fabric of the pants. I looked away quickly, focusing on a nearby bush. "Nat!" she called out, waving me over.

It felt like a lump stuck in my throat, and I couldn't do anything about it. I wasn't short on money, but I was short on Dad's time. If that kingroot had truly gone into his system, I would've accepted it. Even if it had been overboiled into nothing, I would've let it go. Looking at Dad's face, which appeared so thin and almost unrecognizable, I felt nothing but suspicion. Had the kingroot really been "boiled away"?

"She said the only monument she needed was the fact that you can all breathe without a subscription." ​The Return to the Roots ​They lowered the casket into the dark, rich Siberian soil. As the first handful of earth hit the wood, the Heart-Tree began to pulse. ​Massive, glowing roots spiraled upward from the ground, wrapping around the casket and pulling it deep into the planetary network. It wasn't a burial; it was an Integration. Elena Vane was becoming the literal foundation of the Earth’s defense.

She shook the jar of jasmine gently, the scent drifting from the shaken jar. "It's this. It's roots that anchor you to the earth and flowers that hide you from the dark. It's cooking. It's gardening." Thorpe looked at the jars, then back at her face. He saw the terrifying resolve of a mother preparing to use soup ingredients to fight a necromancer. "We have forgotten," Thorpe admitted, his voice raspy. "The Council... we have been looking at the sky for so long, we forgot to look at the ground." Leela looked down at the Iron Root and Moon Jasmine in her hand, her knuckles turning white.

I pointed to the fresh root on the side. "Eat the root Daemon. It is part of the experience." He grabbed a piece. He bit into it. His face immediately twisted. He looked like he had bitten into a lemon. "It’s bitter!" He cried. Sophie smiled. It was a soft kind of expression. "Roots are often bitter, Little Prince. But they are good for the body. They make you strong." "I will only eat the sweet one." Daemon declared. He went back to the chicken. He was stuffing his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in a week.

I'm going to win and it knows it. It takes more power than you could imagine, pulling all the poison from the Earth itself. Thankfully it isn't too far deep in the ground. Just at the level of the roots. But I'm wearing down fast. I'm not going to get all of it, but it will be enough for the Earth to start healing itself.

"You are making the planet look like a dream again. They cannot find the dirt because they cannot see through the light." Suddenly the ground moved. It was not a ship. It was something from under the dirt. A massive black root burst out of the ground near Junes mother. It was not made of wood. It was made of the black metal as the Investors ships. "The plants!" the soldier yelled. "They are not just growing up. They are growing down into us!" June watched with horror. The roots started to wrap around the survivors legs. They were not crushing them. They were plugging into them like charging cables.