Romans & histoires Meadow Of Ash Trees

It's only proper for me to know about the source I was constantly drawing out my powers from, right? He chuckled a bit. “Yes, I am aware, Cassandra. No one is disputing you for that, but the Ash plant does exist. Every five years, it appears and it doesn't stay for a long period of time. Like the name says, it turns to ash, after a period of time, which is why it's important to get one early.” he explained. “With the power of the Ash leaves, the power of the concealing spell would be stronger. With your powers, combined with the amulet of Ameris and the Ash leaves. It's practically impossible for anyone to penetrate through the barrier. It's very important to.”

THE NEXT DAY, Ashley stumbled through the dense underbrush, her body aching with every step. She winced as she touched the makeshift bandage on her back, feeling the rough fabric against her skin. The forest around them was thick and oppressive, the trees towering above like silent sentinels guarding their secrets. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves, and the only sounds were the rustling of the underbrush and the distant chirping of birds.

He exclaimed enthusiastically. He's full of beans, and I understand why. The place is indeed scenic and breath-taking. From where we are standing, I can see the lush green valleys from afar. Before I got immersed in admiring the landscape, I helped Garren carry the stuff he brought with us. I don't want to be an encumbrance here when I'm just a chaperone. As we began walking through the viridescent meadow, I take the time to admire the place. There are sporadic tufts of Acacia, Aspen, and probably the most beautiful one I've seen, willow trees.

It’s height is taler than many other trees in the woods, yet oddly enough, I never be able to spot it during my walk here. I inched closer in wonder. As I neared, I noticed a movement at it’s roots—which consisted the same type of moving vines slithering about. To my horror, I saw Asher’s body being restrained by white vines as it covered his whole body except his head and some small margin of his arms and legs; it’s size is much smaller than the vines inside the woods yet the color is white like the tree. “Asher!” I panicked. Following my feet, I dashed to his side and knelt down to grab the thorny vines.

The "Bleeding Forest" did not end; it simply became more intentional. As Avery dragged the reinforced sled through the thickening violet fog, the chaotic tangle of the mangroves smoothed out into an aisle of gargantuan, white-barked trees that looked like bleached bone against the dark jungle floor. These weren't palms. They were Albizia Sombra—the "Ghost Trees" that only grew in the high-oxygen, high-protein soil of the island’s central spiral.

Asher asked jokingly. Callie laughed and said, “of course.” They reached the tree where the shadow blob had appeared before and Asher looked around trying to see if it was closeby, “I saw a creature stuck to this tree, it was kinda like a slime monster but black and not slippery.” Asher told her whilst still examining the tree. Callie stepped closer and looked at the tree, it looked old. “How long has this tree been here? It doesn’t exist in my world.”

Each step felt heavier than the last, as if something beneath the surface resisted her passage. After what could have been minutes or years, the ground changed. Ash became cracked earth. Then blackened soil. Then the faint outline of roots, twisted and charred, clawing upward like skeletal hands. A forest. Or what had once been one. Dead trees loomed around her, their trunks split and hollow, branches brittle and leafless. The air smelled faintly of smoke and something metallic — like old blood baked into stone. Recognition stabbed through her. “I know this place…”

But none of them see what I see. The seams are fraying. And one of them, she, is right in the center of the rip. I move fast through the trees, faster than any of them could track. The air is thick with that scent again. |Ash and memory. Not smoke. Not fire. But what’s left after. The quiet hush of something sacred being broken. The magic here has been torn. And it knows I can feel it. I pause near a tree marked by old runes. None of them mine, none of them friendly.

She flips me the coin, I snatch it from the air, and she heads into the trees. “I pulled up as close as I could with the trailer. You’ll need to carry the seedlings,” she says over her shoulder. We wind through the thick, towering elms, and she continues chatting a mile a minute as I follow her deeper into the woods. “Ashbalm is nearly impossible to cultivate, but the chance of finding it growing wild just when I need it is too slim. You’ll need to be tough as hell to get it to blossom, but I have full confidence in you.”

It was as if they had stepped into a different world altogether, one where time moved at a different pace. As they delved deeper into the tree, they began to encounter strange, luminescent plants that lined the walls. Asher explained that these plants were unique to the Heartwood Tree and were rumored to possess magical properties. Elira couldn't resist reaching out to touch one of the glowing leaves, and she was surprised when it emitted a soft, melodic chime in response.