Unscramble Roots Novels & Stories

> “Your name is Ung’Adzi.” > “You are the hunger in the silence.” > “You are the forgetting between breaths.” > “And today, you will be remembered into stillness.” --- The air breaks. A scream — not from throat, but from sky. Clouds unravel. The river stops. And from the east comes the Root King. He does not walk. He erupts. A creature of root and soil, with a thousand mouths and no eyes. A crown made of children’s teeth. His presence bends time — flowers die and bloom at once, trees wither and re-root.

Leo rasped, his eyes fixed on the black screen. ​"I can't," Ren whispered, his blue-nebula eyes flickering as he replayed the sub-millisecond data. "The biometric signature is... it’s the 'Root'. Every Vane ever born, including us, is just a derivative of that specific genetic sequence. He didn't just walk out of the Trench, Leo. He unfolded himself from the pressure."

The light from the runes flared red, not gold this time. “Back,” Lira hissed, pulling him by the arm. The earth cracked open where they’d been kneeling, releasing a hiss of steam that reeked of decay. From within the fissure, something pulsed — a dark root slick with sap, moving like it was alive. “Moon help us…” Eastin breathed. The root recoiled from the air, curling back into the soil, leaving behind a faint smear of black that shimmered like oil. They backed away, hearts hammering. The mist seemed to thicken, almost angry at their discovery.

Despite the eerie atmosphere, the roots presented a potential means of escape. The roots, now rigid and bony, protruded from the ground like a macabre ladder leading upward. A silent understanding passed among us as we recognized this as the only way to escape the valley; a climb guided by the cold embrace of the dead roots. Dead, eerie looking trees. Although the roots looked skeletal and lifeless, they provided a sturdy grip as we ascended. The air shifted, the ominous heat dissipating as we climbed, leaving the molten abyss behind but not forgotten. The heat still clung to us. The sweat still dripping.

Angel was surprisingly here today and I have my first class with her, the thought of meeting my friends is enough to get through another day of school, with that thought I went inside and straight to the locker. **** “Radix!” my mom said and the roots started sprouting out of the ground, slowly coiling around this tree, we are currently in the forest, deeper than any person would go to make sure that people don’t hear us and we are alone. My mom uses Latin words to command me when she wants me to use a certain power, like radix which means root, it’s easy for me to just sprout them which sometimes even shocks me, it’s so normal now. I just have to believe that I can do it and make it happen.

She punches in a short code on the small brass lock and when it clicks open, she turns the box toward me. Inside, nestled in dark velvet lining, are several strange roots, each one different. They smell like damp earth after rain, crushed green grass, and burnt wood. It isn’t foul, but it’s not welcoming either. “What are these?” I ask quietly, though what I’m really wondering is how she managed to get her hands on them. Her eyes brighten, actually brighten. It’s rare to see anything close to excitement on Roxy’s face. “Possible roots that could’ve been used to poison you. Each one affects the tongue and how the body responds to food.”

Ursa’s once clean skin was again covered in dirt, her scars from her time in the forest reopening on her arms and legs as the harsh thorns of the wall grazed her limbs. She rounded another corner, but her face fell as she saw one of the marks that she had previously left. She quickly turned around, running in another direction. Her legs moved on their own; she could hardly feel them until her foot got caught on a branch that appeared out of nowhere. With a yelp, she fell to the ground face forward. Tears threatened to fall, but she was distracted when she felt something move under the ground right under her. It twisted and turned, shooting out of the soil. It was a tree root. It kept growing

They gave their blood to the earth, mixing it with the Vespera-ink. The ground began to **Scream**. --- ## The Birth of the Territory I felt a sudden, violent pull. The ink and the blood didn't just sit in the snow; they turned into **Roots**. Massive, obsidian tendrils erupted from the earth, reaching up like the fingers of a buried giant. They didn't pass through me. They **Caught** me. The roots wrapped around my flickering ankles, my waist, my throat. They weren't cold; they were burning with a fierce, wild heat

*** Something quieter. A tension in the roots. *** A slight delay in the way magic settled into place. *** Like a breath held just beneath the surface. *** ### The Worldroot They approached it slowly. *** The massive structure towered at the center of the clearing, its bark etched with patterns that shifted when not directly observed. Its roots spread outward in every direction, disappearing into the land—connecting everything. *** Raven stopped a few steps away. *** For the first time— she didn’t reach.

A sound like roots tearing through bone and stone alike. “Move!” Bryan shouted, and in the same breath, he shoved me sideways. The floor erupted. A monstrous root burst through the cracked stone, its surface slick with dark sap. It pulsed with a sick rhythm, veins glowing faintly with violet light. Thorns twisted along its length—barbed and dripping. Another root slammed down behind me, fracturing the floor into jagged pieces. A gust of fetid wind followed, carrying the scent of rotting wood and blood. Bryan reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me back just as another tendril crashed down where I had stood.