Under The Oak Tree Epub Novels & Stories

The good thing about being Butterfly with Carson — as I've come to enjoy — was I didn't need to any longer. Carson turned to me with a perked eyebrow. In the bright white light from the ceiling and floors I could now see the slight redness in his otherwise perfect eyes and I was glad we stopped. “Where is everyone?” I waved my hand about indicating the empty space. “Don't tell me you didn't see those cars.” Carson chuckled and drew a hand over his dark stubble, an action that made me involuntarily clench my thighs. “That. Well, you did not hear this from me, but, Jaime Crawford junior also hosts an underground and very illegal poker game every Tuesday night.”

Iditan added. Still captivated by the unusual soft countenance on Iditan’s face, I reclined back against the Oak tree which seemed not to posses the hardness of a normal tree, waiting for her to tell the story. The trunk of the tree was soft and comfortable, adding to the serenity. “Iditan…” I called softly as she took her time, curiosity to know more about this protector Oak tree which could seemingly make one at ease and free of worries getting the best of me.

“There is nowhere to hide.” “You think so?” she smirked suspiciously. I was no fool. Elena was a witch, so of course she had a lot of places to hide by simply vanishing into thin air. “You’ve heard of the Oak tree? It has the power to take the most ancient life. But that’s not my favourite part... it also has the power to suppress the power of a witch when sprinkled around the vicinity of where the witch is found,” the grin spread across my face, satisfied at the reaction I got out of Elena.

"I have my eyes on you" I scoffed. What is it with this witch? Her eyes on me? I can't believe her gut. But then again, what does Jo's mean. "I know what happens beneath The Oak." The compound was popularly known as The Oak. We have the Lady of the oak who was Sumaya, as well as the princes of the Oak. The servants and the slaves of the Oak who were also known as the Oak's commodity. But how could anyone claim to know what happens beneath The Oak? It sounds absurd. Especially the fact that their couldn't be anything beneath the plantation or the numerous chambers.

As soon as the car stopped rolling, Dominic gave Leesa a quick thumbs up—the signal they had agreed on that she should proceed as planned. She grabbed the ivory box from her bag and got out of the car. After waiting for a truck to flash by, she hurried across the road and found the spot Dominic had described to her. The old oak tree—almost twice as thick as any of its neighbors—was just barely visible from the highway. Its gnarled branches spread wide in every direction, and Leesa could imagine the huge canopy of shade they would provide when the leaves grew back. She imagined the tree had probably been left standing sometime far back in the past while its neighbors were felled for lumber an

Oaken Hills was a small town with a varied history. The whole town was built around a sacred tree. A long time ago according to the town's history a man named Oscar Oaken discovered the dilapidated and run down town of Oaken Hills and vowed to bring it back to life with the few locals who refused to leave. The only thing he had brought on his travels was a seed from an oak tree. It was customary in his family for many generations that once you reached 18 you were given a seed from the family’s oak tree and had to travel the world looking for a place to call home. Once you found that place you were to plant the seed and if you chose well then, the seed would bring prosperity and good luck to

“Kael… if you go, Ashwood collapses. The packs collapse. Everything you’ve bled for collapses. And Rhea will follow you into the grave.” Kael’s breathing tightened. Fenrak placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let me do this for you.” Violet stepped into the room behind them, her eyes red. “It’s time,” she whispered. --- The trek to the Ancient Oak was silent. Only the crackling of torches followed them as warriors marched through the forest. The ground trembled with something old, something waking beneath the soil. The Ancient Oak towered over them — massive, twisted, its roots half in the real world and half fading into swirling mist. The bark pulsed faintly like a beating heart.

--- I told Damon about the tree. He was in the study. Reading something on his computer. He looked up when I walked in. "A tree?" "A tree. For Sam. In the garden." "What kind." "I do not know. Something that will last. Something that will not die." He thought about it. "Oak." "Oak?" "Oaks live for hundreds of years. They grow slow. They get big. They do not die easily." "That sounds like Sam." "How." "He was stubborn. He was loud. He took up space. He did not die easily. He was not supposed to die at all."

m. I’m sitting cross-legged on the cedar stump where Elowene’s tree used to be before the black fire. The valley is still mirror-blind. The air smells like spray paint and broken glass. I close my eyes and fall inward. Mist-space. The orchard is darker than I’ve ever seen it (stars gone, sky the color of old blood). Dacia is waiting under the bare cedar tree. She’s not the towering eight-foot warrior-queen tonight. She’s my height.

"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.