Little Garden Arc Novels & Stories

ARIA’S POV The twilight wraps the garden in a shroud of tranquil hues, the sky shifting from deep indigo to a softer blend of violet and navy. Each stroke of the brush seems to echo the delicate balance between day and night, capturing a fleeting moment of serenity that has always eluded me. The cool air whispers through the leaves, and the distant hum of crickets adds a gentle rhythm to my creative process. In this ethereal light, the garden transforms into a sacred space where time seems to slow, allowing me to lose myself completely in the act of painting.

Chapter 16 You Seriously Can’t Go Fourteen Days? Arik stood up from where he’d been crouched over some weird, spiky little plant at the end of the garden, jumping a step back as I charged him between two rows of trellised peas. “Jared?” he asked warily. “What’s going—”

"Atarah!" Shouted a lady in a plain beige gown, with hairs nicely combed and folded into a bun at the lower back of her head. The girl with sparkly cornflower blue eyes turned as her name being called and she let go of the rabbit she holding in her hands. Atarah was sitting in a massive garden with the layer of grass spread till the vision ends. Her yellow, lace gown was filthy because of playing in the garden and grabbing were hopping around her. Atarah looked at the lady with no curiosity, it was like she was here to tell her of the same thing that she did every day.

“Don’t worry. When you see her, you’ll feel better.” I really hope so, because right now I’m having some truly serious reservations. Maybe it’s because the whole thing came down on us like a ton of bricks or because of all the drama we’ve had these last weeks – or maybe it’s normal and I’m overthinking this. The garden has been transformed into a fairytale. Little tables and chairs dot the green landscape, and on the far end, they set up a platform holding an arch decorated with gold and silver leaves. The inspiration being mine and Maya’s eyes, no doubt. The aging priest stands under the arch looking over the gathering crowd.

Birds chirped from the branches, their melodies blending harmoniously with the rustling leaves. Lily gasped, eyes widening as she took in the sight. “Whoa… it’s so pretty!” I smiled, squeezing her hand. “And I have something to show you before we start picking.” Her curiosity sparked. “What is it?” I led her toward the back of the garden, where a small corner was filled with delicate, colorful flowers I had been secretly tending. A tiny wooden bench sat in the middle, surrounded by pink lilies, deep red roses, and soft purple lavender.

“Just a few minutes from the main house. We are here whenever you need us.” Lena’s garden glowed behind her small veranda, wildflowers tangled in neat beds, twinkling stone lanterns winding along a cobbled path. Nyah’s yard was neat and shaded, soft grasses curling beneath wide maple trees. Neither home was small, but compared to Kieran’s looming fortress of marble and stone, they were intimate. Aria exhaled a soft breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “They’re beautiful. You have both made them full of life.”

The cool night air on the balcony carried the scent of rain-damp stone and blooming jasmine, wrapping around Aria Hartfield like an invisible embrace. Beyond the ornate balustrade, the garden stretched out, bathed in the moon’s silver glow, its fountains and roses softened by a light mist. The distant sounds of the orchestra inside the ballroom were muffled now, fading as if from another world—one that Aria had just left behind.

he teased, his voice low and velvety. We arrived at a secluded garden just beyond the palace grounds, a place I hadn’t even known existed. It was breathtaking—a hidden paradise filled with softly glowing lanterns, their light casting a warm golden hue across the space. The trees were adorned with delicate blossoms, their fragrance sweet and intoxicating, filling the air with a sense of calm. Beneath the branches, a small table was set up for two, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights that shimmered like stars fallen to the earth.

“Want one?” The vendor laughed, then nodded. “My daughter uses them in school.” She handed one over. “Clause Ten’s her favorite,” he added. “About rest as essential rhythm.” “She has taste,” Lia grinned. --- 1:34 PM — Southbank Garden The garden wasn't big—merely a wedge of earth reclaimed between two low structures. The soil was clay-laden, but careful tending had caused it to produce: gabi, kamote, climbing string beans on reused trellises. A hand-lettered sign protruded between two tomato vines:

No problems so far. Inside is a narrow cement walkway with garbage cans to the left. Eeew, gross. But then the noise comes again, another long unnnnnh, and I scurry forwards, as quietly as possible. Their garden is beautiful. It’s small but there’s an emerald square of manicured lawn in the center with a fountain of a little boy playing a flute, with one leg up while dancing a jig.