Read Under The Oak Tree Novels & Stories

Blood streamed down my calves, but I pushed myself up and wiped the corners of my lips. "Come on." The tension in Charles' face eased up, and Rachel smiled. "Where is she?" "Under the tree on the hill behind the town." "What's she doing there?" "Waiting for someone." Charles frowned but didn't press for more answers. He walked away, while Rachel followed him. I was dead last in the procession. We passed through the yard and stepped onto the dirt road leading to the hill. The winds were howling tonight, and my sister's favorite tree had nearly gone bald. Empty branches were extending themselves toward the sky. From afar, the tree resembled a withered person with their arms open.

KARIN The ancient oak tree at the center of the Nightfall Pack grounds had stood for more than three hundred years. Its thick trunk was wide and uneven, carved by lightning, claws, and long-forgotten battles. I pressed my palm against the rough bark. It scratched my skin, solid and real. Beneath it, I felt the slow, steady movement of life. This tree had watched leaders rise, rule, and fall. It had seen loyalty turn into betrayal. It had seen hope fail and return again.

Omega Orien Pov I sat beneath the towering oak tree, its branches offering a shield from the gentle drizzle that fell like a curtain around me. Tenu's laughter echoed through the air, a melody that always warmed my heart. Little did I know, our love, once serene, would soon encounter a tempest that threatened to tear us apart. Riley, Tenu's closest friend, had always been a constant presence in our lives. But beneath her smiles lay a storm of emotions she hid from the world. She held affections for me that went unspoken, buried under the guise of friendship.

There she was. Sat on a bench alone under an oak tree. There were three or four students loitered in Freedom park, most of the students must have gone home. A lot of oak trees were planted in this park that gave comforting shade to the students. Birds chirped transferring from one tree to another. Some of the trees were planted for almost a hundred years now. Orange clouds now appeared in the sky and the grayness of the area was illuminated faintly with the lamp posts.

The bracket was redirected — she could see that even in the dark, even in the storm, the downspout angled away from the foundation the way he had described — so he had finished, he had done what he came to do, which meant he should have been inside already, which meant — Where is he. She turned. And then she heard it. Not over the storm. Under it. The kind of sound that bypassed the ears and went straight to the spine — a deep structural crack that she felt in the soles of her feet and the base of her skull simultaneously, the sound of something enormous making an irreversible decision. She turned toward the forest edge. She saw the oak move. Eighty feet of tree and the root ball had let go

"Our journey, my love, has been nothing short of extraordinary. The garden, this tree, and the principles we hold dear have transformed not only our lives but the lives of countless others." Roberick nodded, his gaze fixed on the ancient oak. "We have witnessed the enduring power of love, wisdom, and justice. Our legacy is not confined to our kingdom; it is a legacy of inspiration and hope for the world." As they stood beneath the ancient oak, bathed in the moon's gentle glow, they shared a moment of silent communion with the tree. It was a moment of gratitude for the life they had built together and for the principles that had guided them.

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…”

Mountains and a city. I sat against a huge oak tree in this small clearing, a bottle of water lying on my lap. A withered book sat in my hands. I wasn't sure what the title was, nor did I really care. I read the words greedily, a desperate attempt to escape the world I lived in. The sound of snapping branches ripped me from my thoughts.

“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.”