Shermans Tale: Part One- Into The Woods

Chapter V

Forrest Build Project Site #152
Northern Brasil

Berk was 22 years old back then. He was a tall elf, standing at six-foot-eight and weighing in at two ten. He was not the least bit overweight, maintaining his size and stature. Dark brown skin covered his massive structure, with streaks of black where his body had been scarred. His eyes were green as the leaves in the trees of which he worked with. His hair had been kept straight, about neck length, though most of the time he was working, it was matted with the sap of bleeding trees.

Berk was a Wood-elf, sworn into duty by his parents, who had long since passed away. They too were Wood-elves, working in the forests all their life. They felt no need to live outside the forests, or ever bother. Their work was their life and they were dedicated to it. Berk was born in a Project Site, not too far away from where he worked now-#127-which has since then been finished and is now used to house the workers still in the area. His mother died giving birth to him, and his father who was at work most of the time, left him in the care of his grandmother who raised him mostly by herself. His father would stop by every couple of days during his breaks, to see his son. Not too many years after, Berk’s father died, just of old age. “It was just his time to go, he did his part and we are thankful for that,” Berk’s grandmother explained to him. She raised him until he was able bodied enough to work as a Wood-elf in the forests below.

When she was ready to give him up to the work-life set before him, his care was transferred to a retired Wood-elf, Fern Birchbark. Fern was the assistant manager of Recruitment Affairs for Forrest Build, but even more he was a friend of the family. It was with him that Berk was to enter an apprenticeship, and learn the ways of the woods. Fern had decided that for the sake of learning, Berk should come live with him at his home, in his workshop. It was just an hour’s walk from his grandmother’s and he would be allowed to return to visit her on the weekends, so Berk was happy.

In the days that followed, Berk had take his necessary belongings, bid goodbye to his grandmother, and moved out to live with Fern. Fern had a workshop that branched off from his main cottage underneath the tall trees of the tropical forests. It was here that Berk would be quartered. The workshop was small, but cozy in a sense, and Berk had no problem with that. The ground below was covered with thick layers of saw dust and wood shavings, keeping the cold soil of the earth below from seeping through. In the middle of the room sat a workbench. Many woodworking tools were laid out on top. On the floor next to it sat a wooden bucket, filled with dirt covered planting tools. There was one window, on the east wall, and below it, a small cot, placed so that the sun would shine on it in the mornings. Aside from that the room was bare, though it allowed plenty of space to move around.

The night that Berk moved in, he shared a meal of fried plantains and five berry jelly, with a piping hot cup of tea to wash it down, before going to bed. As he was finishing his unpacking after dinner, Fern had silently waltzed in. When Berk turned around to see him, he jumped in surprise. Fern looked out him with mock curiosity before saying, in a deep gruff voice,”Hurry up and finish, get to bed soon, your training starts tomorrow.”

At hearing this Berk got excited. He was anxious to start his training, but before he could ask questions, Fern had walked out, pulling the door shut behind him. Berk did as Fern had said and hurriedly finished unpacking his belongings, before lying down on the cot to go to sleep. However, his excitement got the best of him. Berk soon broke out in a cold sweat, and he reached down to pull the sheets tight around his body. Falling into a deep slumber, his dreams of the path that followed pulled him.