Novel Under The Oak Tree Novels & Stories

The path beneath their feet grew uneven, the forest growing thicker and more ancient as they walked, until they arrived at the base of the oldest oak tree in Valenwood. The massive oak towered above them, its gnarled branches stretching out like protective arms, creating a canopy that filtered the moonlight. Caius stopped beneath the tree, his shoulders tense as he exhaled a slow breath. Lira stood beside him, unsure of what to say, the weight of the prophecy hanging between them.

Robert replied. The high beams cut through the dust on the road. Kat could see the drive was lined with thick trees. “It is going to be impossible to find Jude in here if he wonders off.” She glanced worried at Robert and back at the barbequed covered boy. “Don’t worry babe. There’s a gate around the property itself.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Well this isn’t creepy or anything.” Ray snarked. “Its only creepy because its dark RayRay. Things always look different in the dark. It’s just new, new always feels uncertain, until it’s not new anymore.” Kat smiled back at Ray through the rear view.

Nova smiled. “The Cassie & Damon Legacy Sanctuary.” After the unveiling, the crowd lit candles, one by one, and circled the oak tree like they had for generations. The tree glowed, the roots bathed in gold, the wind wrapping itself around old names and new stories. Grace whispered into the air: “Still us. Always.” Late into the night, Nova sat at the base of the oak tree alone, journal in her lap. She wrote: Tonight, I saw the fire come home.

Curiosity got the best of me and I read the torn page in my hand. The paper was old, and yellow-colored from the ages that it’s been sitting in here for, and molded on the edges, but nonetheless, readable. I sat down crossed-legged, not giving a thought that the sun would set any minute and darkness would swallow the light any moment I waste my time satisfying my curiosity. “...under the cold sun, there comes a fair lady falling from the sky. The maiden lay there basking under the heated sun, upon her arrival, the trees made way. A huge gust of wind came waving in arc, cutting everything it touches. The tree…”

So I was surprised and a bit incredulous that there was an oak tree here that was new to my eyes. As if it could be any more perplexing. For the third time, I passed by the oak tree again. My jaw fell open. When I saw it, I became anxious. My pace accelerated as a result. It accelerated to the point where I was almost running. When I once more saw the oak tree, my knees buckled. I was so worn out. My knees sunk into the ground. I tightly close my eyes and realize that I'm mired in some kind of nonsense.

Its age was estimated to be hundreds of years, standing tall on their property long before Dana had moved in. But Sophia wanted to visit it with Albert. She refused to go alone. She had heard that oak trees were considered sacred. Wouldn’t it be lovely? Sophia also thought the tree could inspire her as she worked on her current novel. Her laptop sat open in front of her, yet she lacked the motivation to write. Her phone buzzed with a notification. Sophia eagerly grabbed it, her heart racing with anticipation, but her face fell upon seeing the sender’s name. It wasn’t who she had hoped for.

But the promise of answers to the issues that had been troubling me—the attraction of the unknown—was too great to fight. The old oak tree near the river stood silhouetted against the starry sky, its gnarled limbs extending like skeleton arms. I moved gingerly, my senses sharp. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze was the sole sound; it was a comforting song that did not help me to relax. I looked about, looking for some indication of Kavan. But the place was deserted; the only observer of my covert meeting the old oak tree. I started to feel let down. Had he come to another opinion? Had he chosen not to travel?

Birds and cricket songs are replaced by total silence, we can even hear the twigs and branches breaking underneath our legs as we walk on them. I can hear Owen's heavy breaths, even his hard swallowing. The air suddenly changes, when we get to a small opening after the thickets. There are seven tall trees, taller than the rest, which surround an old cabin. It practically looks deserted. The trees look so strange and peculiar. I have been to the woods before, but I have never come across such trees. I walk slowly towards the cabin, Owen is one step ahead of me and his hand is wrapped protectively around my waist.

Then Amber felt it too. “What is that?” “I think the tree is trying to communicate with us.” “What?” Amber looked shocked. “Let’s just go see.” Isabella continued up to the top and stood under the tall oak. She looked at the leaves and half rotten acorns around its base. “It’s a black oak.” She whispered to Amber. “How can you tell?” “You have to look at the leaves and the acorns. Those are black oak leaves and acorns.” “Okay.” Amber looked up at the tree.

“It’s not possible,” Mac said quietly, standing at the edge of Hope’s garden, looking at the small oak sapling with its cluster of pale, impossible blossoms. “Oaks don’t flower in October. They barely flower at all in the traditional sense. Something else must be growing through it.”