Eternal Tree Novels & Stories

No one was allowed near the sacred heart of Aetherion without permission. The Tree of Life stood deep within the ancestral grounds of House Aetherion, beyond stone walls and ancient paths worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. Even stripped of magic, even after the heavens had gone quiet, the Tree remained… in the most breathtaking way. It glowed. Not brightly, not blindingly, but with a steady, unnatural radiance that pulsed like a living heartbeat. Its massive trunk twisted upward, silver-white bark etched with veins that shimmered faintly under the night sky. The leaves were translucent, like thin sheets of moonlight, and they whispered softly even when there was no wind.

Still and silent. I went to the backyard. There stood a sacred Laurel tree Ethan had planted with his own hands when I awakened at eighteen. Back then, he said this tree represented our love, blessed by the Moon Goddess—never withering, blooming every year. I called for a gardener with a strength-enhancement gift and ordered him to uproot it. "Luna, this tree holds the spiritual energy of the territory. It's growing so well; the buds are about to open. Are you sure you want to dig it up?" The gardener looked at me with a mix of pity and horror.

🌑 Chains of Eternity The road through the Nightmare was never the same twice. One moment, the ground was hard stone under their boots; the next, it was cracked earth littered with skeletal trees. A crooked moon hung above them like a watching eye, painting the world in pale silver.

Chapter 5: The Heirloom Amidst the ancient trees of the forest, their gnarled branches reaching skyward like ancient sentinels guarding secrets of old, Adrian and Seraphina found themselves inexplicably drawn to a secluded grove bathed in ethereal moonlight. The air was thick with anticipation as they ventured deeper into the heart of the forest, their senses heightened by the palpable energy that permeated the air.

Underneath the bottom of the trunk were the messily written words lightning tree. "Clearly it had been struck awhile ago, since its branches weren't bare," said Eric. I could feel him standing behind me, looking over my shoulder at the drawing. "I just thought it shows the imperfection of nature, you know? Some trees are struck by lightning. They eventually recover, though, and somehow are still beautiful even with the charring on them." Once again I was struck by Eric's incredible wisdom and his love for the Earth. I brushed my fingers over the drawing of the tree, feeling the indention from the press of his pen beneath my skin. Lightning tree.

“The tree stands as a human being, in other words, it explains the inner self of a person, the part which wants to remain hidden. You must have noticed the strong branches and the frail barks in the body. It means the strong branches are our outer self, that we use in our every day to day lives, to show others. But the barks, they are frail and rotting away, because of all the effort it goes through to hold the branches ahead. We never know, but the fake self that we display to the outside world, often ruins who we are in the inside, so that’s what this means. And the leaves? They just play the part to make it look more triggering.” I nod and turn pages after page. Half the book is taken ov

May you enjoy your new eternity. The one without me.

“Ana, I wish you had stayed too!” [I don’t have much time left. I keep calling Evan, but I can’t reach him. I miss him so much. These past few days, every time I close my eyes, all I see is how we first met. If only life could stay like that forever. Evan, I miss you so much.] Evan closed the diary. Then he drew the blade across his wrist, right over the artery. In the final moments of his life, Evan turned on the recorder. As words like “old lady,” “get on your knees and beg,” and “more entertaining than teasing a dog” filled his ears, it felt as if the blood in his veins had frozen.

“The world must keep telling it, or it will fade to ash.” Instead, she planted a sapling at the foot of the arch—a spiral seedling from Elara’s own garden, small enough that any child could reach its crown. She told the children, “Let this tree grow as you do, and let its rings remember you. Sit atop it when you are small, and beneath it when you are wise.” Decades spun by. The Eternal Garden thrived. The Spiral Tree grew, but never overtook the arch, its branches low and welcoming, its roots wide and warm.