Whispers Of The Midnight Orchard

The night had always held a quiet kind of magic in Ravenwood Valley but for Elara Morse the darkness had started to feel like a calling. Something in the air stirred whenever she walked through the orchard behind her grandmother’s old house. The apple trees seemed to whisper and the wind felt like the breath of something unseen. She was twenty six a wandering portrait artist who had returned to the valley only to settle her grandmother’s estate but the land felt too alive to leave.

On the first night she stayed in the house she woke to the rustling of branches though there was no storm. Her room faced the orchard and the moonlight pouring through the window cast long pale shadows across the floor. Elara pushed up from the bed wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and looked outside. A figure stood between the trees motionless almost shimmering under the moon. It took her a long moment to realize he was looking directly at her.

She blinked and the figure vanished.

The next morning the orchard felt ordinary. Birds chirped. Dew glistened on red apples. The breeze was gentle. But Elara felt watched. She walked between the rows touching the bark of each tree trying to understand why the place hummed with a strange energy. Then she heard a voice.

You should not come here at night.

Elara spun around her heart lurching. A man stepped from behind a tree tall lean with dark hair that caught faint sunlight like strands of obsidian. His eyes were a deep haunting gray like a storm waiting to break. He wore clothes too old fashioned to belong to this era yet not costume like he had stepped out of another time entirely.

I did not mean to scare you he said raising his hands in a slow graceful motion. My name is Rowan.

Elara steadied her breath. You were in the orchard last night. I saw you.

His jaw tightened. Then you saw more than most can. Not many humans can.

Humans? Elara echoed. What are you then?

Rowan hesitated as if deciding whether the truth was too heavy for her. When he spoke his voice was softer than the morning wind. Bound. Cursed. The orchard has held me for a very long time.

Elara tried to laugh but the sound caught in her throat. That sounds dramatic.

It is not a story he said. It is a prison.

Something in his gaze made her believe him. She asked What do you mean the orchard holds you?

Rowan placed his palm on the gnarled bark of an ancient apple tree. The branches quivered around them as though reacting to his touch. These trees were planted with blood and oath magic by a woman who wanted my life to end. The orchard keeps me alive but only as a shadow of the man I once was. I cannot leave its borders.

Elara stared shocked and strangely drawn in. Why tell me this?

Because he said quietly you can see me. You are not supposed to but you can.

It became the beginning of nights filled with whispered conversations between the rows of trees. Elara found herself walking into the orchard every evening drawn by a force she could not define. Rowan was always there waiting leaning against a tree or sitting on a fallen branch looking as though he belonged to the moonlight. He spoke in riddles sometimes but his sorrow was unmistakable. He had been a healer in the old valley centuries ago beloved by the people but targeted by a jealous sorceress who wanted him for herself. When he rejected her she cursed him tying his spirit to the orchard that once thrived under his care.

The curse was cruel. Rowan could not step beyond the tree line. He could not touch another living soul without draining his own essence. He could only remain between worlds neither living nor dead.

The more he spoke the more Elara began to feel her chest tighten with something warm powerful and dangerous. She tried to ignore how her pulse raced when he looked at her for too long.

One night rain poured in sheets and thunder shook the ground. But the orchard called to her stronger than ever. She hurried outside soaked instantly and ran between the trees shouting for Rowan. He appeared beside her so suddenly she gasped.

You should not be here he said gripping her wrist before pulling back as though burned. The storm strengthens the magic. It is dangerous for both of us.

Elara shook her head. I do not care. Something is wrong. I can feel it.

Rowan looked at her with fear in his eyes a rare crack in his calm. The sorceress her spirit stirs on nights like this. She may try to reclaim her curse.

A jagged bolt of lightning tore across the sky illuminating a swirling form at the edge of the orchard. A woman’s shape formed vapor like yet terrifying dark tendrils twisting around her silhouette.

Rowan hissed a breath. She is here.

The apparition moved faster than Elara expected gliding across the orchard floor toward Rowan. You still resist me Rowan she whispered her voice cold and venomous. Even after centuries.

I will resist you until this curse ends Rowan growled.

Elara stepped between them without thinking. Leave him alone.

The spirit paused then looked at her with interest. A living girl. And you can see him. How fascinating.

Elara felt the air constrict around her throat. Rowan lunged forward shouting her name as the spirit coiled a strand of shadow around Elara’s neck.

Do not harm her Rowan demanded.

The sorceress smiled a twisted smile. Then break. Break your bond to this orchard and come to me willingly. Only then will I release her.

Rowan’s expression collapsed into agony. If he broke the bond he would become hers forever enslaved to her will. If he refused Elara would die.

Rowan whispered I cannot lose you.

Elara shook her head even as the shadow tightened. Rowan do not do it. Do not give yourself to her.

Rowan’s eyes burned with something fierce and heartbreaking. Elara I will not let you die.

He raised his hand and the orchard reacted violently. Branches whipped. Leaves spiraled. The ground trembled. Rowan summoned the magic that was bound to him pulling it into a vortex of glowing silver light. The sorceress shrieked realizing his intent. You fool. That will destroy you.

Better me than her Rowan shouted.

The light exploded in a wave that tore through the orchard dissolving the sorceress into a storm of dark dust. The power collapsed inward and Rowan fell to his knees his form flickering like a fading flame.

Elara ran to him catching his face in her hands. Rowan. Stay with me.

He smiled weakly. I used the last of the orchard’s magic. The curse is breaking but so am I.

No Elara whispered her voice trembling. You cannot die now.

Rowan brushed his thumb across her cheek though his touch was barely there. You gave me something stronger than life. Stronger than the curse. You gave me a reason to hope again.

His body flickered again. Elara pressed her forehead to his. Please do not leave me.

Rowan whispered I will find you. In whatever world waits beyond this one I will find you.

His form dissolved into glowing dust and drifted into the night leaving Elara alone surrounded by silent trees.

For weeks the orchard was quiet. The whispering had stopped. The air no longer hummed with magic. Elara wandered between the rows touching the bark where Rowan once leaned speaking to the wind as if he could still hear her.

Then one dawn she woke to the sound of footsteps. Slow human footsteps. She rushed to the orchard heart pounding. A man stood in the center warmed by sunlight his back to her. He wore simple modern clothes his hair tousled by the wind. When he turned her breath caught.

It was Rowan. Alive. Human. Mortal.

How are you here she breathed.

The curse died with the orchard magic he said stepping closer. And I was given a second chance. I am as real as the sunlight now.

Elara pressed her shaking hand to his chest feeling a heartbeat strong and steady. Rowan laughed softly pulling her into his arms. I told you I would find you.

And in the quiet morning between the apple trees now simply trees and nothing more Elara realized that love had rewritten the curse itself turning a prison into a promise fulfilled.