The Keeper of the Forgotten Woods

Dark Fantasy Fiction fiction, short story JC Milan January 23, 2025 0 Comments

The faint, musty aroma of old wood clung to the large barn like a memory that refused to fade away. In the dim light, a solitary figure moved between the towering stacks of forgotten lumber—a man with eyes that saw not just the ordinary but the latent stories hidden in each grain. Clad in a tattered cloak dyed deep midnight blue, his mustard yellow leather boots creaked lightly against the old barn floor. This was no ordinary man; this was Alastair Cain, Master Scavenger and Keeper of the Forgotten Woods.

The barn, with its towering beams and spectral cobwebs, stood at the edge of a once-bustling village now abandoned to time. Originally erected in the late 15th century, this redoubt of history had withstood the passage of ages. Alastair had uncovered it through cryptic council records and now explored its secret troves under a pallid moon. His mission was curious: to recover the forgotten woods and craft them into new, wondrous creations.

Alastair's journey had begun in a world much like our own, yet different, an alternate Victorian epoch where the art of woodworking was revered even more than technology. As kingdoms vied for supremacy and craftsmanship stood as the pinnacle of cultural achievement, the names of master woodworkers were whispered with reverence. Yet, Alastair had eschewed the opulence that accompanied fame, often preferring the quietude of forgotten spaces rich with history’s touch.

His methods were marvels suited for the era. Where others saw firewood, he perceived instruments of grace and beauty waiting to be coaxed into existence. A piece of weather-stained oak, discarded and forlorn, offered more stories than logs hewn for palaces. Thus, Alastair employed techniques known only to his secretive guild, employing ingenious methods to dry the wood and preserve its narrative essence, often spending hours dreamily tracing the scars and nicks of once-living trees.

See also The Glitch in Eternity

Yet Alastair was but one of many dreamers caught in the web of the woodcraft renaissance. He was soon joined by a cadre of likeminded artisans, each with skills honed through years of study and toil. These were not just men and women of wood but storytellers who saw beyond the veneer. Together, they breathed life into the remnants society cast aside, sculpting them into grand furnishings, intricate objets d’art, and instruments that sang the songs of their origins.

One such collaboration came when Alastair serendipitously encountered Beatrice Monroe, a prodigy in piecing together the stories behind reclaimed wood. Known in artisan circles as the “Spirit Weaver,” Beatrice had a talent for revealing tales weathered into the wood’s very fibers. Alastair and Beatrice formed an alliance, their synergy yielding works that defied the bounds of traditional craftsmanship.

Guided by whispering winds and emboldened by the stars themselves, Alastair continued to rescue wood from oblivion, oftentimes venturing into territories uncharted for years. His extensive explorations had borne insight into secret sources: wastelands where ancient timbers lay strewn, old construction sites where the echoes of wooden narratives yearned to be set free, and forested sanctuaries where the whispers of wildlife exhaled through the bark and leaves.

Across the land, the name Alastair Cain began to resonate. Like legends once sworn in taverns, tales spread of a master who could discern the essence within the soul of a tree, who could, with deft hands, resurrect the past into the vibrant dance of the present. And as Alastair delved deeper into the heart of these ancient spaces, vestiges of forgotten woods began their rebirth, whispered myths chiseling across history’s scroll as masterpieces, each piece a masterful homage to life’s indomitable cycle.