The Trees Novels & Stories

Fire and lightning The dense forest was alive with the sounds of nature, a symphony of rustling leaves, chirping birds, and the occasional snap of a twig. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor, which was covered in a rich carpet of moss and fallen leaves. Ancient trees, their trunks gnarled and twisted, stood tall and proud, their branches forming a tangled web overhead. Vines and creepers hung from the branches, swaying gently in the breeze, while the scent of damp earth and fresh pine filled the air.

It slammed into the man’s chest, sliding all the way to the hilt. Bile rose in my stomach. “Come. There are more fundamental lessons for you to learn about our ways.” Morrigan wandered off through the trees, leaving the men pinned to the trees. Her black dress fluttered on a fantom breeze as she disappeared around a tree. I rushed to catch up only to find her entering a clearing. “Look around and tell me what you see, Eileen.” Trees spiraled out from this clearing. As I looked, I realized the spirals were each a unique species of tree! Elm, Oak, Ash, Hawthorn, Elderberry, and tall cedars. “Sacred trees.”

The forest exhales. And somewhere beyond the trees, something shifts in response. Not yet. But soon.

The trees swayed and I saw a few cats playing with each other. "Yeah?" He said, his voice muffled as well. "Wait till you see the actual place." And we were silent for a while until I saw a sign. "Hot air balloon festival? You're taking me on an air hot air balloon?" "Yeah." Brayden laughed as he slowed the bike down. "Pretty cool, huh?" And we stopped in what seems like a field. The balloons were huge with variety of colors. I was so amused and amazed that Brayden would actually do something like this for me.

But in time, when you keep looking, you will see the differences. The mixture of black and brown wood gave of the feeling as if the barks where weak, and the burden was too much on them. They looked frail, compared to the thick branches above. There was just too much green leaves, which made the picture too greenish. But then, you notice the yellow speck of colours and that’s all that is needed to explain the picture. I gasped in amazement. On hearing me, Jos turned towards what I was looking. “Oh this? It’s the only thing I’m good at. I’m only good at making trees.”

The only clue that it hasn’t is the trees. The trees surrounding the building are all younger, and shorter than the massive tall trees the forest usually produces. Where the trees around the complex are small and smooth, the old trees are wide and rough. The more I stare, the more out of place it seems to appear as though someone was trying to create a camouflage look, but somehow overdid it.

Partly submerged beneath a canopy of trees, the lake seems like a hidden treasure, a secret oasis nestled within the embrace of the forest. The soft rustle of leaves overhead mingles with the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, creating a symphony of sound that soothes my soul. The trees loom tall and majestic, their branches reaching out to touch the sky, casting dappled shadows upon the water below. I watch in awe as the moonlight filters through the branches, painting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon the surface of the lake. It's as if the trees themselves are reaching down to caress the water, their embrace

All living Hope's legacy. The Grove of Sacrifice was now a forest. Hundreds of trees. Memorials to all who gave everything. Hope's tree at the center—massive, ancient, impossibly beautiful. Spring's tree beside it. Echo's tree. The twenty-two trees. Alone's tree. Peace's tree. Memory's tree. Together's tree. Hundreds of trees. Each one a memorial. Each one a story. Each one a sacrifice that made everything possible. The forest was sacred. Was holy. Was the heart of everything.

Wayne had just cleaved through one tree's stems with his sword when he looked around to survey his men's condition, a horrifying battle ensued around him. These trees were invaders, they were not native to this plane. Little wonder he had not noticed their presence; their scent had been inconsequential because he had not expected to be assaulted by trees. They were widely known as the Jubboko vampiric trees, a species of leafless sprouts, that survived on blood, existing mostly in the realm of the vampires. They might have possibly crossed over from the rift in the veil and were currently traveling towards the village settlements.

And that was something he would never openly admit to. The sky was painted with shades of orange and pink as the sun slowly descended toward the horizon. The air was crisp with a hint of pine scent, typical of the dense forests that covered the western pack's lands. Tall, ancient trees with thick trunks and gnarled roots stood tall, forming a natural canopy that filtered the sunlight, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.