Under The Oak Tree Books Novels & Stories

I knew he was supposed to be here. Thinking he was yet to come, I sat under the oak tree and waited for him. I kind of see why he liked this place, the cool breeze brushing against my skin was so calming, and the leaves on the oak tree rustled with the wind. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, enjoying the calm environment. I think I was too engrossed in how good I was feeling that I did not know when I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I had slept, but when I woke up, I was moving in the air, my eyes immediately flew open, scared I was being kidnapped.

I lived just across the creek. Then, I saw the children playing. Near them, there was a puddle that starts to recede at the edge of the river. With their snot dangling, they cheerfully played partially naked under the umbrella of the cherry tree. Indeed, the night before, the rain fell heavily. But then, it was the sun that does not want to lose to show off its power.

He offered his wide hand, “Let me help you.” “I can help myself.” I stood, and shook off the dirt off my skirt. He just shrugged, “Okay.” He continued and went under the oak. It was only a bit higher than Gabriel, but taller for me that I was able to raise my head high and see its perfect oddity. Its shrunken trunk and all that was connected to it had perfect shade of homey brown and its foliage was thick, but there were spaces that allowed rays of sunshine to pass through it.

Alicia’s POV The oak tree was my sanctuary. The thick branches shaded me from the sun like a canopy, casting dappled patterns of light across the grass and my lap. My bare feet lay tucked on the velvet blanket I had laid out, while a young maid knelt dutifully beside me, massaging peppermint oil into my feet. Asides from dealing with my enemies I enjoy reading books, especially politics though. I didn’t acknowledge the maid, My mind was too deep in Niccolò Machiavelli’s The Prince.

Three hours had passed without me noticing a single minute. I looked down at the open sketchbook. The drawing covered the entire page. The oak tree stood strong in the center, its heavy branches casting long, shaded light across the grass. In the foreground, the small yellow lilies looked almost real, their thin petals catching light made entirely out of unpainted white paper. It was detailed, neat, and sharp.

How many times had they put themselves in danger while I was too focused on war plans and elder meetings to notice? I stayed far enough back that they wouldn't hear me. Close enough to intervene if something went wrong. The trees grew thicker. The light grew dimmer. Shadows stretched long and dark across the forest floor. Still, the children kept running. Finally, they stopped. A massive oak tree loomed ahead. Ancient and gnarled. Its roots twisted up from the ground like frozen snakes. Its branches spread wide, blocking out what little remained of the evening sky. Carl and Karin dropped to their knees beneath it.

she began, her voice soft as she closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. “We’ve gone over the book hoping for a clue about the oak tree, but there wasn’t anything,” I explained, my frustration evident in my tone. “That’s because we hid it, because we couldn’t trust the Werewolves,” Naomi said, her eyes narrowing as she shot a glare at Bas. “The Werewolves always believed they were immortal, the greatest and most powerful creatures on Earth. But one day, the witches found the oak tree—a loophole given by the universe. When the Werewolves found out, they saw us as a threat, killing every witch they knew and destroying all the oak trees. But there was one. So my ancestors created this bo

[So as I was saying, those oak trees were capable of predicting the future. Nero gave his master a side glance to check if she had any plans to interrupt him again. It was only when he confirmed that Audrey was already behaving like a good child, did he went on telling his story again. By that time, only the sound of Nero' soft meowing, as well as the sound made by the turning of the pages of the book, could be heard in the library. "MEOW... MEOW... MEOW... MEOW.." [One day, one of the talking oak trees saw that one from my race, the antediluvian cats, will going to bring utter distraction to the world by releasing all the creatures of the dark from their restriction.]

Leigh shouted into the little honey coloured house that sat quietly on one of the many rapidly occupied plains of Wild Oaks. The little town had earned its name from the ring of widespread Oak trees that sprouted out of the ground wherever they pleased. Leigh in fact, had one of the trees growing in her backyard right where a swing had been built. It provided shade on hot summer days and held most of the snow on the fiercest winters only to release them as water droplets later on.

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.