Chapter 33: Beneath the Surface
The moon hung low and wide above the clearing, casting silver light across the wildflowers now folded in slumber. The wind whispered secrets through the branches, and in the gentle lullaby of the forest, Marissa lay awake, clutching the small bark pouch Ellara had given her. Mason slept beside her, his breathing soft and even, one arm curled around her waist as though even in dreams, he refused to let her drift too far.
But Marissa couldn't sleep.
Her thoughts spun like autumn leaves caught in a storm Ellara's words, the strange pull in her chest, the sense that something ancient had just begun to stir. She sat up quietly, careful not to wake Mason, and stared at the pouch again. It was bound with a single silver thread, delicate yet strong. Taking a slow breath, she untied it.
Inside was a single seed smooth, dark, and warm to the touch and a folded piece of parchment, aged and soft as petals.
She unfolded it.
The land will awaken when the seed is planted with intention. Speak your truth. Let your heart guide you. The bond runs deeper than blood.
Her heart pounded. What did it mean? Was this some kind of ritual? A key to unlocking whatever lived within her?
She looked over at Mason, his face peaceful and still kissed by moonlight. He had given her a new life. A future. A love that felt more like coming home than anything she'd ever known. If the earth itself was calling her to awaken, she would listen. But she needed to do it on her terms.
Quietly, she slipped from his embrace, tugged on her boots, and walked barefoot toward the edge of the clearing where the trees grew thick and shadowed. She stopped by the riverbank, where the moon's reflection danced on the water's surface.
Marissa knelt there, digging into the soil with her hands. The earth was cool, soft, and alive with hidden roots.
She placed the seed into the ground.
She closed her eyes.
"I don't know who I'm supposed to be," she whispered. "But I know I've found the person I want to become. I want to build. To love. To protect. If there's something in me, something meant to help this place, to heal it... I give it my yes."
She pressed the soil back over the seed and held her palm against the earth.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then warmth.
A pulse like a heartbeat throbbed under her palm. Light bloomed faintly from beneath the dirt, gold and soft, and as it faded, a tiny green sprout pushed its way through the soil. Marissa gasped.
A connection sparked to life inside her sudden and fierce a surge of understanding that didn't come from thought but from instinct. She knew the forest. She could feel its joy, its pain, its deep sighs of relief and sorrow. And just as clearly, it felt her.
The sprout shimmered once before settling into stillness.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Not because she was afraid. Because she was ready.
She returned to the tent just as the first hints of dawn stretched across the sky. Mason stirred as she climbed back under the blanket, pulling her close.
"Where'd you go?" he murmured, eyes still closed.
"Just needed some air," she said softly, curling into his warmth.
He nuzzled her hair. "You smell like rain and moss."
Marissa smiled to herself. "It's a new fragrance. Called Becoming."
He chuckled sleepily and kissed her shoulder. "Well, Becoming suits you."
They spent the morning building a small garden bed together, the kind that would one day overflow with herbs, flowers, and vegetables. As they worked, Marissa felt the earth differently like she could almost hear its hum, its encouragement. She didn't speak of what happened the night before. Not yet.
But the forest knew.
And it welcomed her.
Later, while Mason was down by the river fishing, Marissa wandered deeper into the woods with a notebook, sketching out ideas for their home. She paused near an ancient tree with roots as thick as her arms. Placing a hand on its bark, she closed her eyes. A memory flickered not hers, but the tree's.
Storms. Sunshine. Children playing. Fire. Renewal.
She jerked back, breathing hard. This was more than empathy. This was communion. The land wasn't just whispering anymore. It was sharing.
That evening, Ellara returned.
She didn't step out of the woods this time. She was simply there, like she had always belonged.
"You heard it," she said, her voice calm and proud.
Marissa nodded. "I felt everything. And now it won't stop."
"It's not supposed to. You've been chosen as a Guardian."
"A Guardian of what?"
Ellara stepped closer. "Of the balance. The bond between life and land. There have always been a few in every generation. It's not about power. It's about presence. Stewardship. Love."
Marissa's breath caught. "Why me?"
"Because you said yes. The land chooses those who are willing to love it without expecting anything in return. And now, you're part of something sacred."
A thousand questions swam in her mind, but none escaped her lips. Instead, she asked, "Does Mason need to know?"
Ellara smiled gently. "He already does. Maybe not in words. But in his soul. You chose each other. That is its own kind of magic."
With that, she placed a pendant in Marissa's hand a stone carved with a leaf, strung on a braided leather cord.
"For the times when doubt tries to silence your knowing."
Marissa nodded. "Thank you."
Ellara's form shimmered like heat rising from the earth and then vanished.
Marissa turned and found Mason standing behind her.
"I figured you'd gone for a walk," he said, stepping into her space.
"I needed answers."
"And?"
"I don't have all of them," she admitted. "But I have enough."
He looked at the pendant in her hand, then at her face. "You're changing."
"Am I?"
"In the best way," he said. "You've always been something more. I think I just didn't know how to see it until now."
She reached for him, her hands sliding around his waist. "This place... you... it's showing me who I've always been. I just didn't know how to listen before."
"I'm listening now," he whispered. "Every heartbeat, every breath you take, I hear it. I feel it. And I'm with you wherever this path goes."
Their kiss beneath the trees was deeper than passion. It was unity. And as they held each other, the wind danced around them like a song.
Marissa leaned her head on Mason's chest and whispered, "I think we're more than just a love story."
He kissed her hair. "We're a legend in the making."
That night, as stars spilled across the velvet sky, Mason and Marissa lay in their meadow, hand in hand. They spoke of dreams, of children one day, of seasons yet to come. And when silence settled, it wasn't empty. It was full of hope, of belonging, of love rooted deeper than any tree.
Marissa closed her eyes and breathed in the night. The earth pulsed beneath her, steady and strong.
A Guardian.
A lover.
A builder of new beginnings.
The journey had only just begun.