Chapter 25- Fallen and Found

A Tree Named Zalmoxis

Author Note: This chapter is dedicated to Giulia. Thanks for the great input! <3

Kate’s POV

Liam’s recounting of the Seelie Court felt like a siren’s call, drawing me deeper into a world drenched in allure and ancient magic. As we sat nestled in the ethereal glow of the morning, the intensity of his longing was almost tangible—like a thin veil of mist, both beautiful and somber. The more he spoke, the more vividly I could imagine the shimmering dances and endless feasts, but his voice also carried a deep melancholy, like a beautiful dream he couldn’t return to.

Eventually, he stood up, stretching leisurely with a grace that seemed too fluid for the mortal world. “We shouldn’t keep the Iele waiting,” he said, a playful smirk on his lips. “It’s rather rude to hog you all to myself in their domain.” His words nudged me back to reality, and I followed him reluctantly, the images of the Seelie Court fading behind us.

As we returned to the cavern, the Iele’s faces were etched with concern, likely remembering the tension from our earlier argument. I flashed them a reassuring smile, hoping to dispel their worries. Their response was a series of nods, their expressions smoothing into serene masks.

A feast materialized before us without any delay, echoing the indulgence of the last night’s revelry. One of the Iele offered me a cup filled with the same potent nectar I had overindulged in last night. I hesitated, remembering the last time when I had enjoyed the nectar just a bit too much and glanced at Liam. “Great, let’s get even more sloshed in the morning,” I thought sarcastically, then realized the sun was already way past the zenith. Well, technically, it’s afternoon, so it’s fine, right?

Liam intercepted the cup with a sly smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He took a long sip, his gaze never leaving mine, then with a flourish of his hand, the nectar shifted into a harmless juice. With that same flirtatious air, he rotated the cup just like the night before, the section his lips had touched now facing me again and winked. I couldn’t help but laugh and swat at his arm before taking a sip, though I was secretly grateful for the switch to juice. There was plenty of time to get drunk on nectar later.

The leader of the Iele approached, her aura shimmering slightly in the dim light of the cavern. “Honor we have, for those who join our kind,” she intoned, her voice echoing slightly off the stone walls. “Tree grows in sacred grove, in name of the one who becomes Iele.” Her words carried a sense of ancient tradition, each syllable resonating with a sense of otherworldly power. “Meet your tree, for it is a symbol of your new life among us.”

Intrigued, I asked, “Are all Iele human converts?”

She shook her head, her expression ethereal. ” No, most Iele born of this realm. Some born from celestial events, or nature’s whimsy – like stars falling to earth, or moon’s love for single bloom. When numbers wane, Iele might split essence, or embrace spirit of maiden taken too soon by fate. And on very, very rare occasions, human joins us through rituals like yours.”

“And what does ‘greeting the tree’ involve?” I prodded further, intrigued by the mysticism of their customs.

“Rite of passage, it is,” she explained, her voice flowing like a gentle stream. “Marks transformation from what you were to what you will become. For native Iele, celebrates inception into existence. For you, marks transition from human to something… other. Ritual helps reflect on journey, prepare for new path. You’ll find grove… whispers secrets from past, through rustling of leaves.”

With Liam by my side, I followed the Iele through the forest. The path wound through towering trees with shimmering leaves, creating a canopy of green and gold. The sounds of birds singing and leaves rustling filled the air. We walked for what felt like an eternity, the forest around us growing denser and more magical with each step. Finally, we arrived at a grove filled with hundreds of trees, each adorned with carvings, ribbons, and painted patterns. I did not understand their meaning, but I could tell that each decoration told its own tale, a tapestry of history and myth interwoven with the natural world.

I wandered slightly ahead, drawn to a cluster of trees with symbols eerily similar to those on the Dacian tablet that had kickstarted this whole mess. Excitement bubbled up as I traced the symbols with my fingers, recognizing one from the tablet. I turned to one of the Iele near me, different from our usual guide. “Do you know what these mean?”

“Sacred names of Dacian gods,” she explained, pointing to the intertwined spirals and angular lines of the symbol I was pointing at. “This one Zalmoxis.”

My heart raced with excitement. “Could I possibly translate my tablet with your help if I showed you pictures later?”

She nodded, her smile enigmatic yet welcoming. “Would be honor to assist.”

We continued to a small, yet vibrant sapling at the grove’s edge. “This your tree,” she declared, handing me a bundle of colorful ribbons. “Meet your tree, share your story.”

The Ieles dispersed, each attending to their own sacred trees, leaving Liam and me in a bubble of our own making. He dropped on the ground near the sapling and lounged casually beside me, propped on one elbow while watching with an amused glint in his eye.

I hesitated, looking at Liam for guidance. “What am I supposed to do exactly?” I asked, somewhat overwhelmed.

He just laughed, clearly finding the situation hilarious. “I’m not going to give you a script. That’s for you to figure out. Just start at the beginning – it’s not like the tree is going to interrupt you,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief that suggested he was perhaps enjoying my discomfort a little too much.

Rolling my eyes, I faced the sapling. “Great, now I’m talking to trees. There goes the last of my sanity,” I muttered under my breath, approaching the sapling. Okay, here goes nothing.

Clearing my throat, I began, “Umm… hello… tree… I’m Catherine Groza, but everyone just calls me Kate.” I paused, half-expecting a response. Liam raised an eyebrow, a silent chuckle in his gaze. I bit my tongue and cursed myself mentally. “Great, now he’s got my full name. As if he didn’t have enough power over me already. How very ‘Rumpelstiltskin’ of him,” I inwardly groaned.

“So, um… I was born in Romania, but my parents were always bustling about, given their jobs required frequent travel.” I fiddled with the ribbons, tying one awkwardly around a thin branch as I continued. “We moved so much, I barely remember the places, but the smells and sounds? Those are clear as day. The scent of wet earth from archaeological digs with dad, or the paprika mom loved to use in everything. It’s funny how you remember such random details.”

“My mom, Bianca, she was this incredible anthropologist, deeply passionate about Romanian and Hungarian folklore. I spent a lot of my childhood tagging along on her field trips, playing in the dirt while she unearthed relics. We were close, super close, really. She’d teach me about lots of legends and culture, and every spring we’d make Mărțișor together. Those were little trinkets we’d give out in March to celebrate the beginning of spring. It’s a big deal back home.” I smiled, lost for a moment in the memory.

“I didn’t have many friends my age,” I confessed to the sapling, tying another ribbon, this time a green one. Liam watched me silently, clearly amused but did not comment at all. I sighed, mentally preparing that he would use anything he heard against me later. “…mostly because I was never in one place long enough to make any. But mom’s colleagues—they were like aunts and uncles to me. They’d teach me how to dance and sneak me into pubs to play darts or billiards with them. Mom would’ve had a fit if she knew. We kept it our little secret.” I chuckled, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness of the grove.

I gently secured the ribbon around the sapling as I ventured into the darker chapters of my story. “Things really changed when I was about fourteen,” I began, the weight of the memories pressing down on me. “Mom went to Italy to visit a friend and… well, she never came back. They said she disappeared without a trace.” The words hung heavily in the still air. “At the time, Dad was on a dig in Israel, and he didn’t come back home—not even then. I was left with my grandparents, feeling completely abandoned.”

Liam reached out and squeezed my hand in a surprisingly gentle grip. He didn’t crack a joke or offer a witty remark, which was completely out of character for him. Instead, his silence spoke of a quiet empathy I hadn’t seen before. Wow, Liam actually knows when to shut up for once. Maybe there’s hope for him yet, I thought, a flicker of amusement momentarily distracting me from my sorrow.

The sapling seemed to lean in, absorbing every word as my voice trembled. “A few months after we got the news about Mom, my grandpa—Mom’s dad—suddenly died. It was so sudden; it shook us all. Dad finally came back then, but only to help with the funeral arrangements.” I paused, struggling to control the emotion in my voice. “I shut down completely. I couldn’t talk to him, not then. I was too angry, too hurt. I wanted to scream at him for not being there when we needed him. I didn’t talk to him during that entire time. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t come earlier, when we were all scared and confused. All I wanted was to fly to Italy myself, to find her, to do something.” I squeezed the last ribbon in my hand, the silk bunching in my trembling fist.  Through blurry eyes, I could see Liam’s somber expression as he patiently waited for me to continue.

“After the funeral, Dad left again, and the whispers started—people saying Mom had left us for a lover. That her trips were cover-ups for an affair.” I sighed deeply, the hurt still fresh. “I withdrew more and more. The rumors didn’t just hurt me; they affected Grandma too. She suffered from all the cruel things people said.”

“About six months after Grandpa passed, Grandma died too,” I continued, my voice barely a whisper. “It was as if she died of a broken heart, having lost both her husband and daughter so close together.” I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. “Dad came back then to handle the funeral, and it was then I really hit rock bottom. I was furious with him for his absence, for not being there when it felt like our family was falling apart.”

“It wasn’t until weeks later that I overheard a phone call between him and his boss,” I added, tying the final ribbon, this one a deep shade of violet, symbolizing the turmoil of those days. “He had been in Italy all along, searching for Mom. He was risking his job, having used up all the leave they could give him. They were about to let him go if he didn’t return.”

My voice softened as I recounted our reconciliation. “We finally talked. Really talked. And I realized he was just as lost and hurt as I was. We decided to spend that summer together at a dig site, reconnecting over the shared passion for archaeology that he and Mom had instilled in me.” A small smile played on my lips. “That summer changed everything. We renovated the house later, renting it out to some of Mom’s colleagues. This allowed me to stay with people who cared about me during school, and I would spend breaks and long weekends with my Dad. This arrangement, it… it helped us rebuild what we’d lost.”

“We continued like that for over three years until I graduated from high school,” I finished, feeling the sapling’s branches now adorned with my story. “That’s why I chose archaeology as my profession, though I’d always thought I’d follow in Mom’s footsteps and become an anthropologist.”

I continued, feeling a renewed connection to my past. “After high school, thanks to some help from my parents’ friends, I managed to secure a scholarship to attend Cambridge University. That’s where I truly started to forge real, lasting friendships—the kind that shapes who you are.” I smiled wistfully, recalling those transformative years.

“And that’s where I met Elena,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “She’s this crazy mix of Romanian fire and Irish wit, with a love for archaeology that’s only surpassed by her love for hard liquor.”  I glanced at Liam, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. He raised an eyebrow suggestively, as if to say, “Oh, I like the sound of this Elena.”

Note to self: Never, ever let these two meet. It would be the end of me.

“She’s the kind of person who can make you feel like you’ve known her your whole life, even if you just met,” I continued, a fond warmth spreading through me. “She is responsible for some of the most epic adventures but also the most brutal hangovers I’ve ever experienced in my life. She taught me how to embrace life, to find joy in the unexpected, and to always, always, have a backup bottle of Vișinată on hand.” I smirked, playing with the dangling ribbons that pulled on the sapling’s wispy branches.

“She’s also the one who talked me into the Dacian dig,” I said, my voice tight with emotion as the memories came flooding back. “I was actually set on going to Turkey, but she lured me in with the possibility of finding something linked to Mom’s research.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

“She really did give me the hangover of my life this time, in more ways than one.” The words were barely out of my mouth when the memory of my promise to Dad slammed into me like a freight train. “FUCK!” I cursed, the realization of my predicament hitting me full force. “I promised Dad I wouldn’t disappear like Mom, and now I’m stuck in… fucking fairyland?”

A sob choked off my laughter, tears blurring my vision as memories swirled like a dust devil in my mind. I felt Liam’s hand brush against mine, his touch sending a spark of warmth through me. Before he could utter a word, my breath hitched in my chest. The sapling before us was transforming, growing at an impossible rate, its branches thickening and leaves shimmering with an otherworldly light.

The grove seemed to awaken around us, trees rustling and swaying as if dancing to an unheard tune. Then, like stars descending from the heavens, glowing orbs emerged from the leaves, swirling and dancing in a breathtaking spectacle. Their warmth washed over me, filling me with a sense of peace I hadn’t known existed, each orb taking away a piece of my sadness until all that remained was a tranquil euphoria.

Liam stared, his usually mischievous grin replaced with wide-eyed wonder. “Well, someone’s throwing a heck of a welcome party,” he murmured, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Either that tree’s got a serious crush on you, or you’ve officially been inducted into the glitterati of the forest.”

Before Liam’s words could fully register, a chorus of ethereal voices filled the air. The Iele emerged from the trees, their forms shimmering in the light. They moved with a grace that seemed otherworldly, each carrying a delicate flower wreath woven with vibrant blossoms. With gentle smiles, they placed the wreaths upon my head and shoulders, their touch sending a warm rush through me. Then they pulled me to my feet, their laughter echoing through the grove.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there ladies,” I managed to squeak out between surprised giggles as the Iele kept spinning me around. “What’s happening now?”

Liam’s eyes danced with amusement as he watched the scene unfold, his grin both seductive and mischievous as he spoke. “You’ve had a taste of our world, princess, but there’s so much more to explore. A ritual without a party? That’s simply not how we do things.” His voice was an enticing purr, promising a night that would exceed even what I had experienced last night.