Survival Garden Book Novels & Stories

"Then you will wish you had never tried. But if you follow my instructions you will not be caught." The woman knelt beside another plant. This one had small yellow flowers and a strong smell. "This is for fevers. You boil the roots and drink the water." Gianna knelt beside her and looked at the plant. She committed it to memory. All of these plants. She did not know if she would need them but it was better to know than not. The woman stood again and moved to the last section of the garden. "There is another path on the east side of the camp. It is longer but safer. If you think the guards are watching the forest too closely use that one instead."

Josephine took a long look at her backyard, the green grasses that looked healthy, a large tree right at the center of the backyard, a two person swing that held important memories in her childhood and Three to four flower vases, There was also a small vegetable garden that had different varieties of vegies been grown, some pepper, cucumber, some pasli and some natural herbs. Josephine stood in front of the back door, she began searching for her book, she searched and searched all over the backyard but she couldn’t find the book. The book was not there, She remembered vividly she threw the book and it landed in her backyard. She searched once again for the book, she searched for over twenty

He was hoping that maybe there are still some left especially those which can reproduce through seeds. When Keir finally arrived, he was greeted with lots of vegetables hanging above him on the vines crawling everywhere. And on the ground, there were also various kinds that managed to survive on the overcrowded garden. It was a mess indeed but of all the mess he had seen, this was the one he approved the most. Keir quickly picked anything he needed and headed back to the house. He only took as much his hands can take because he didn't bring a basket where he could put the vegetables in.

She had just finished up the last of the trim. The garden was a very beautiful place and now that it was neat and clean again, it seems just as it used to, except for a few flowers that died due to the long-term lack of care but even those showed hope of being regrown if well taken care of. The ones that survived had tapped into the soil and fought for their own survival, growing wild. Now that it was all cleaned up.

“Here would be yours.” Something unfurled inside me at the thought. “There’s a garden,” I murmured. “There are three,” Gideon said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Maeryn keeps them with Harlen. One is for roses, one for vegetables. The third… my mother planted herself, before she died. Herbs, mostly. It’s overgrown now.” I looked back at him, a spark of something brighter catching hold. “Herbs?” “Yes.” Gideon studied me, as though realizing where my thoughts were going. “You’d have what you need. For your work.”

They vanished into the glowing void of the Sanctuary — weightless, safe, and ready for later use. [Storage Updated] [Food: 30 days supply. Water: 15 gallons. Medical Kits: 6.] Progress. But it wasn’t enough. ⸻ That night, I sat cross-legged in the Sanctuary, surrounded by the quiet pulse of my creation. The garden glowed softly, vines and herbs swaying in an invisible breeze. I planted more seeds — mint, ginseng, aloe. Life thrived here effortlessly. Echo appeared, her misty form weaving around me like smoke. “You cultivate well, Kiami Lynn. But do you understand why you must?”

Finn reached out his trembling hands and took the map from Uri's hand. "It's my family; I have to save my sister," Uri nodded. "I hope you and everyone else will find the key to the portal to get out of here, to a more livable place." Finn silently looked at Uri's determined face. With what was going on, he knew he couldn't stop Uri. Uri put the ancient book in his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and jumped to the ground. He looked up at Finn standing on top of the tree, raised his hand for the last time, and then walked briskly toward the Red Leaves group of people surrounding Clement.

Survival first, everything else could wait. The castle gardens were quiet. Sunlight filtered through the trees as I searched for the last herb on the list, the one that only grew here. My legs burned from all the walking, and my back ached. Even the baby felt heavier today. I found it. The very last one. It was a single small plant tucked near the edge of a flowerbed. I dug it up carefully, roots and all, and placed it in my basket. The sun was already low in the sky.

--- I started writing a new book. Not a memoir — a guide. For the ones who would come after. How to tend the garden. How to care for the fig tree. How to sit with grief and not run from it. The soil here is rich, I wrote. Not because of anything special. Because people have loved this ground for generations. Love makes things grow. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. --- Baby Daphne — the younger one, Celeste's daughter — took her first steps in the garden.

--- The fourth volume was completed on the winter solstice. Solenne set the bound pages on the stone bench, her hands trembling, her heart full. The book was thinner than the others, but its weight was greater. It contained the story of the garden after the first generation—the keepers who had followed, the witnesses who had spread the flowers, the watcher's slow transformation from attention to presence. "This is the story of staying," Solenne said, her voice carrying across the garden. "Not just the first witnesses—all of them. Everyone who ever tended a flower. Everyone who ever sat beside a bloom and let the watcher witness them."