Under The Oak Tree Chapter 19 Novels & Stories

Leonardo provided. "The oak tree in the midst of the pines," Hazel muttered as a memory flashed in her mind at those words. After a few minutes of pondering, her eyes widened as she realized what the clue was. "It's the oak tree in the middle of the large pine field, horses' hooves printed on the soaked ground on a rainy day, blood-red moon. The earth has been hurt, or is Mother Moon mourning for her dead children?" she began. "While many sleep, the earth weeps. What a sorrowful night. As the unknown enemy works in the darkness of the night. Under the large oak tree lies the secret to her salvation. But then again, it also holds the power to her damnation."

For a second, I see inside him. Not nothing. A seed. Small. Black. Cold. The part the Tree cut out. The part it was afraid of. It falls. Hits the dirt. The Tree moves. A root. One root. Thin as thread. It spears down and takes the seed. Pulls it deep. Mine. Silas collapses. Human. Empty. Alive. The wheat stops growing. The crown goes quiet. The gate opens. And thirty thousand people walk in. Draven catches me before I hit the ground.

I turned left, and there on the ground was a tiny old book that described the path the old woman had told me about. Quickly, I began to trace it, following the book's guidelines. I had walked a little farther, my feet aching and my body growing more exhausted, when I finally saw it—the Whispering Oak standing tall, its bark twisted into faces, whispering softly as though alive. And there it was—the veil. I pressed it, and it opened slowly, creaking like ancient wood. Before long, I was inside the oak tree. The wind had stopped blowing. Everything was suffocating—dark and scary.

“Glee . . . shit.” Another tremor jolted them, and the centuries-old cottonwood tree—the only thing left out there—twisted and leaned, losing its foothold on the remainder of the crumbling bank. Slipping away. Richard felt something at his elbow. This time it was Owen tugging at him, a clogged warning in his throat. Pulling him back from the decimated park area. Toward the waiting vehicle. “Daddeee . . . ” Katie fretted. Richard took heed and went.

“It can’t be any other tree than that. Aunty Corvina told me that I couldn’t miss it, and she was right. I did—” He freezes in his spot, staring down at where we left Corvina’s car, as he stops his pointing gesture mid-air. We observe him confused before we follow his gaze to the spot beneath the thick branches of the oak tree. “Where is the car?” he asks lowly, getting my heart to skyrocket in anxiety. “Where is the fucking car?” I blink several times as I think I must be imagining things. The oak tree is still standing there, its branches giving shadows to an now empty spot.

I climb off her back and thank her for giving me a ride here. “Are you staying?” I ask but she is already on her way back to the castle. That’s strange, why was she in a rush? Turning I see an enormous tree. It looked to be an old weeping cherry tree in full bloom with its pink spring flowers. The moon illuminated the bright colors and magical fireflies flew all about. There looked to be lighting coming from the center where the trunk of the tree should be. I stepped forward and moved a flower branch to the side so I could walk under the tree. I continued until I found the tree trunk. Lanterns were carefully placed all around underneath the weeping canopy. It’s simply breathtaking. I was so

I doubled down by crying out, “Would he give you a happy pat on the back if you allow something to happen to his unborn pups due to too much heat?” “No please, go on please. But at least let me escort you to make sure you're safe.” He offered. I bent over and cried out again, adding some convulsive shakes to the drama. “Ah, please just go quickly!” He conceded. I smiled out of the corner of my mouth as I left him. Fool. It wasn't such a long walk before I saw the oak tree described by the note-sender. I couldn't see anyone there. I went closer till I got to the tree itself. I stood there, looking around.

Chapter 3: Just A Breeder Fiona’s POV My stood beneath the ancient oak, its gnarled branches a silent witness to my reluctant union. A finery of lace and silk clung to me like a second skin, ill-fitting for my spirit, though it perfectly sculpted my form. The congregation held its breath as I took a step forward, the rustle of my gown whispering secrets of a heart yielded. My fingers trembled, barely touching the rough bark for support.

“He hasn’t released me.” “He will.” The certainty in her tone leaves no room for doubt. “What if he never does?” Her head tilts slightly. “He will.” Silence hums between us. “Where?...Where can i find you?” I ask. The clearing shifts. The trees blur and rearrange. The vision expands outward like a map unfurling. I see forest stretching westward denser, darker. A narrow trail barely visible beneath overgrowth. A river cutting through stone. Then a massive oak tree. Its trunk is split clean down the center, blackened along the jagged seam as if lightning once struck it from sky to root. The top half leans precariously but still lives, branches heavy with leaves.

I’m below a tree, an oak tree. The realization sends a shot of sobering adrenaline through me, and my mind emerges from the haze—it’s not just any oak tree. It’s our oak tree! I’m laying at the tunnel entrance, but how did I get here? Who brought me here? Why am I naked? Why can’t I move?