Grass Novel Novels & Stories

As Caitlin walked with her bridesmaids through the moss-covered hills of Skye, the sight took her breath away. The early morning sun broke low and red on the horizon, lighting up the open expanse before them. The landscape was dotted with small lakes, and the grass they walked on was a vibrant green, greener than anything she’d ever seen. It felt to her as if they had come to the very beginning of the earth, a place so pure, it hardly seemed real.

I had covered a good amount ground over my traveling years, but had yet to make too far. It used to be beautiful, with miles of bright green grass, a variety of gorgeous flowers, and a ton of big healthy trees. It was due to all the battles that took place over the years, that had done a huge number on Mother Nature. Now the grass was mostly brown and dead. It was pretty rare to see live, thriving, green grass any more. It was even rarer to see flowers of any kind. It was as if they were there one day, gone the next. This was one of the most horrible things for us Fae. We were so in tune with nature that this was almost causing physical pain.

An insignificant place. That was how aristocrats think and talk about the farmlands. Only when the genius prodigy, Liracynthia Maharlika, taught the upper class how significant the farmlands are to the nation’s economy that it is finally recognized as one, as a significant place. However, there are still people who hate the smell of grasses, including the genius prodigy herself – Duchess Liracynthia Morelli. “Lira, why are you scratching your skin aggressively?”

Why was my love life so frustrating? "Have you noticed how the grass isn't itchy like regular grass?" I was wanting to keep topics on the tour. "The griffins who live here have an oil on their skin that coats the grass and makes it velvety. It's been like that for so long that the grass grows like that naturally now. And the color is like a turquoise mineral." I was feeling more at peace as we walked along. I turned and stretched my hands up. "Look, it's a griffin nest," I whispered. "And around the family are the flowers I mentioned. They're magnificent!"

As a medicine man himself, Zephyr was quite familiar with chrono grass. Chrono grass was a rare and valuable herb. Although it looked like a common herb, its price fetched higher than many others. Once a fighter utilizes the grass, there is a good chance they would ‘break out’ of their current state. While within this state of induced euphoria, they would easily achieve many breakthroughs in the mysteries of the world.

The grass before his eyes was turning yellow and dark, to finally become completely silver-gray like metal! "Is this... a sword?" Ding Hao was stunned to find that every blade of grass that had previously formed the endless grassland was actually an extremely delicate and small sword. They were put together densely, becoming a fake grassland and with the tender green color and the endless vitality. "What kind of world is this?"

She should have been anxious, but the sound soothed her, like a lullaby for the mind. “You think that’s peaceful?” ReNew’s voice carried a teasing lilt. “Try this. Take off your shoes. Run your toes through the grass.” She hesitated, then obeyed. The moment her bare feet touched the ground, a sensation like rippling warmth surged up her legs. The grass was unlike any she had known—soft like velvet, yet firm enough to support her weight. It gave slightly beneath her feet before springing back. “That’s… weird,” she murmured. “But it feels so good.”

The New Wild was a magnificent draft, but it was a draft written in the northern hemisphere, where the sun was a distant, golden coin that spent less time on the horizon every day. The bread-trees had fully transitioned now. Their gnarled branches no longer dropped small loaves into the grass; they produced a hard, bitter nut that had to be soaked in mountain water for three days to leach out the acid before it could be ground into a coarse meal. The survivors were learning the true meaning of Grit. It wasn't a metaphor for survival; it was the sand in the flour that wore down your teeth while you ate.

But Clara restrained herself and just let her eyes satiate with the scenery’s beauty. The reflective green grass of the landscape glowed brighter in the strengthening light. It rose to meet the sun like a proud child showing a parent their accomplishment. There was even a barn on the hill amid the grass and the meadow flowers as if it sprung up like a seedling, turning into something big. And it belonged there. If it were absent, the picture of that landscape would be missing something very special. So even though the timbers were aged and the light that streamed in from the holey roof illuminated the dust like ethereal confetti—it was truly a great place. Clara loved it.

It was a shockwave of vitality. Cr-crack. The sound of life breaking through the impossible echoed across the silent dunes. Emerald-green grass, thick, lush, and smelling of morning dew, erupted from the parched earth beneath his feet. It didn't grow with the slow patience of nature; it surged with the ferocity of a flood. Within seconds, the orange sand around him was replaced by a carpet of deep, soft clover and wild moss. Ressi took his first step forward.