Caleb and the Forest Book...
Caleb has lived in his village, all his life, as long as he can remember. His father lived there, so that is where he lived. But it was a terrible, awful place, full of unpleasent things. There was no rhyme or reason, and anger and fear held fast to all those that dwelled there. Caleb knew this, but was powerless to do anything. He did not want to be there any longer, but he could not get out. His village, Vree, was surrounded by large, tall tree's. They stood close together, so that a man, trying to pass through them, would never have an easy time, and their leaves grew so thick, and close, that once inside, a man would never know the where the sun rested in the sky.
So surrounded the Village of Vree was, by the Forest of Twifjel.
Now Caleb knew that other villages existed, past the forest. Even if one could not easily pass through the trees and arrive at another village, one could still converse with others. For all the distance between them, all one had to do was look over their shoulder, and there they were, and there you could speak. But if one turned all the way around, they would be gone, vanished.
It was through this, that Caleb heard of the other villages. Some worse, but many, so many, that were better. How badly he wanted to up and leave. To settle down, and start fresh, far away from the foundations set by his father. To create a new house, a new family, a new name. A new life. But, young Caleb was scared. The forest was oppresive, and was enough to make any man think twice about venturing forth.
It was not his life, that Caleb feared for though. He did not fear dying. That is to say, he did not fear the possibility of dying, at the hands of the forest. He was not the first fool-hardy young man to want a better life elsewhere. There were those who tried. But they rarely ever met their end in the forest. No, sooner or later, then ended back up on the edges of the forest, facing towards the village Vree, as if they had come from some other village, and made their long journey to this destination. But, that was never the case. They always came staggering out of the forest, somehow turned around in their journey, looking at what should be there destination, but instead was their starting point.
It was enough to break a man, but rarely did it ever kill them
Oddly enough, although rarely, a man would stumble through those woods, looking beaten and ragged, and his face, would be that of a stranger. Someone from a distant village, who perhaps one day was out for a walk, driven to explore the forest for one reason or another, whether by god or man, and now, found himself here.
But no, it was not his life Caleb was fearful of. He knew, or as well figured, one way or another he would still have that. It was the forest itself. The journey. There were no paths in the forest. The air itself in there was close, almost suffocating. To stand at the edge, and peer in, was to be overcome will a kind of terror. Not a stark terror, that drove you mad to turn and run, and lay weeping on the floor. A subtle terror, that lodged itself deep in your chest, and urged with all of itself, that to press forth, would be sheer madness.
He had felt it many times, did Caleb.....
So surrounded the Village of Vree was, by the Forest of Twifjel.
Now Caleb knew that other villages existed, past the forest. Even if one could not easily pass through the trees and arrive at another village, one could still converse with others. For all the distance between them, all one had to do was look over their shoulder, and there they were, and there you could speak. But if one turned all the way around, they would be gone, vanished.
It was through this, that Caleb heard of the other villages. Some worse, but many, so many, that were better. How badly he wanted to up and leave. To settle down, and start fresh, far away from the foundations set by his father. To create a new house, a new family, a new name. A new life. But, young Caleb was scared. The forest was oppresive, and was enough to make any man think twice about venturing forth.
It was not his life, that Caleb feared for though. He did not fear dying. That is to say, he did not fear the possibility of dying, at the hands of the forest. He was not the first fool-hardy young man to want a better life elsewhere. There were those who tried. But they rarely ever met their end in the forest. No, sooner or later, then ended back up on the edges of the forest, facing towards the village Vree, as if they had come from some other village, and made their long journey to this destination. But, that was never the case. They always came staggering out of the forest, somehow turned around in their journey, looking at what should be there destination, but instead was their starting point.
It was enough to break a man, but rarely did it ever kill them
Oddly enough, although rarely, a man would stumble through those woods, looking beaten and ragged, and his face, would be that of a stranger. Someone from a distant village, who perhaps one day was out for a walk, driven to explore the forest for one reason or another, whether by god or man, and now, found himself here.
But no, it was not his life Caleb was fearful of. He knew, or as well figured, one way or another he would still have that. It was the forest itself. The journey. There were no paths in the forest. The air itself in there was close, almost suffocating. To stand at the edge, and peer in, was to be overcome will a kind of terror. Not a stark terror, that drove you mad to turn and run, and lay weeping on the floor. A subtle terror, that lodged itself deep in your chest, and urged with all of itself, that to press forth, would be sheer madness.
He had felt it many times, did Caleb.....