Freiyon Fables A Tail To Remember

Micklang spent the next four weeks with the trees, learning that apart from Tursorl’s clan, there were many others around the world and they all had spread from this one position long ago, agreeing that the world needed a mixture of sentient trees and natural non-talking trees. A type of society amongst the clan soon became clear to Micklang, one that prospered on trust, kindness, and above all sharing. In fact if was a clear offence if a tree was caught not sharing something of importance with another tree. Micklang had witnessed this on the fifth day of his first week when a rude, stern, somewhat young eucaliptus tree had tried to get away with taking something from another sentient tree and hadn’t given anything back. The eucaliptus tree had been sentanced to a full week in a special large cage designed to keep sentient trees in at all cost. Micklang didn’t want to disobey the law and he certainly didn’t want to be in any sort of prison any more, after his zoo experience.

Slowly over time he learnt more and more about their clan, their laws, their families and friends, and the challenges and hobbies each sentient tree had. However, he soon learnt that the same eucaliptus tree that had been imprisoned for his crime was a particularly nasty character, who held a deep grudge against Tursorl and longed for becoming the tree chief himself. He had learnt that quite by accident when he had been walking past the sentient trees home and heard him discussing something with his family. “Tursorl can’t be chief of the clan much longer. Someone needs to take over soon and I intend for it to be me. I don’t know how I will do it, but I know that Micklang, that stubborn squirrel creature that has been learning our ways for some time now, will be a thorn in my trunk about this. I know you will support me in this family, as you have seen the strength I hold.”

Micklang peered into the home quietly and saw two over eucaliptus trees there. A wife, with a huge bushel of leaves for hair, and a younger one that was possibly the son of the two. ‘He plans to overthrow Tursorl! And I bet he has something terrible planned for me too! I have to tell Tursorl!’ Micklang thought to himself.

As he ran back to Tursorl’s tent of leaves which was in the center of the clan’s home, Micklang realized that his vision was actually coming true. He had discovered the bad seed amongst the good bark.

He approached the guard tree to the tent desperately. “I seek audience with Tursorl the tree chief. Desperate news!” He bowed to show respect to the guard and the guard, in return, smiled gently. “Tursorl will see you in a moment. I shall inform him of your arrival.” The guard stepped through the tent and things went silent for a moment, allowing Micklang to catch his breath. Tursorl came out and looked at the squirrel with adoring eyes. “Well now, my curious friend. What seems to be the issue?” Micklang started to tell everything to the chief about what he had heard, and Tursorl accepted everything in grim awareness. Once Micklang had told Tursorl everything, the two devised a special plan. One that would be risky possibly, but would certainly allow the other trees to see what the eucaliptus tree had planned.

~ ~ ~

The next day, Micklang approached the eucaliptus tree and, to its’ surprise, started talking to him friendly. “Tell me sir, what is your name? I have learnt just about all the other names in this clan apart from your own families. I would like to learn it too if that is ok?” The tree looked taken back slightly but smirked all the same as he answered. “Why, young Micklang, I thought you’d never ask! It’s Eucalicta. Proud to make your acquiantance I’m sure.” He extended a branch as a way to shake hands and be formal, and Micklang as part of the plan took it and shook firmly. “Tell me, Eucalicta. What would you like to do if… hypothetically of course, you were the chief of the trees?” Eucalicta didn’t catch on to the hint. “Hypothetically of course, I would spread the trees further along and bring to life more of my own kind, and we would than over-throw any resistance and be the supreme rul…. Ah I mean be the kind rulers of everything we see.” Micklang noticed the quick change of thought and made sure he would remember that.

“And out of curiosity, is the possibility of other creatures becoming a chief of the clan possible?” Eucalicta looked at Micklang hard The two stared in silence for a moment, Eucalicta seemingly trying to see what Micklang’s thoughts were. “Its’… possible, but none have ever survived the tests that come with trying to be the next chief. As you know by now there are challenges a non-tree being would have to go through, and the trees actually take a vote on who the being should fight as the final challenge if they survive the encounters.” Eucalicta finally said. “Yes I am well aware. And I am also aware that, currently, Tursorl has no succesor.” Micklang attempted a bait. “Ah, but that wouldn’t stop some-one like me stepping in at the right moment to challenge his fading authority and become the next chief myself. After all, Tursorl has no-one left to fight his battles. He has no hope.”

Micklang took that as his queue and took a glimpse towards Tursorl, who was not too far away and saw the squirrels’ nod. “He has me.” Micklang murmured. Than he stood up on a rock bravely, the wind coursing through his fur, as he spoke out loud to Tursorl. “Tursorl, my friend, since you saved my life, I would like to repay this favour by becoming the next chief in line if you are to die of old age, and if you are killed, then I will avenge your death no matter the costs. Do we agree?”

Although a few trees laughed, including Eucalicta, Tursorl raised his cup to the squirrel as he replied, with a wink.

“Agree? You can bet your lightning-stricken tail I agree. However, there are a few complications you have to consider. There’s the agreement papers you have to sign, but that comes last of all, then there’s the test you have to pass. You have to show us what you are capable of, and how smart you are, by going through this test. It’s not going to be easy, Micky.”

“Alright, I’ll do it. What’s the first test?”

Tursorl smiled as he came over to the squirrel and led him to the start of a big, very well built, hedge-maze. One that was so big, even Tursorl couldn’t see over the top of it.

“Pretty simple with this one, really; all you have to do is find your way out of the maze and into the next test. However, it’s not the maze itself that will test you, it’s whats inside. Be careful where you step and try to follow the same path you choose. Good luck, Micky.”

Micklang walked into the maze slowly and turned to the first left.

The maze certainly was a big one, and very confusing, but Micklang knew it was sensible to keep going in the same direction as much as possible.

When Micklang accidentally stepped on a cleverly placed trap, he had to jump back quickly to avoid being sliced in half by a huge axe. Running past the axe, he turned left again and saw he had made it to a swamp with only a small vine hanging down to help him cross.

Micklang made it over carefully and quickly and then continued onwards.

The rest of the maze was just as hard. There were falling pieces of mazes, bridges that criss-crossed everywhere but never seemed to have a purpose, a few more axe-swinging and swamp crossings parts, but finally he found his way out of the maze and into a small, dark cave.

“Um, hello? Little problem with seeing here.” Micklang called, hoping some-one would hear him.

Several fire-lit lanterns appeared and lit the cave up, with Tursorl leading the group.

“You’ve made it out, well done Micky, but this next part is harder. You must battle a tree from my gang, with only my torch to help you. This is going to test your strength, smartness, and fighting abilities,” He stopped and pulled out a voting barrel full of pieces of signed bark. This was the moment that would make sure the plan went correctly, but it was going to be risky. It would all rely on what was said. He pulled out some names and, just as he had organized, most of the voted names were all the same. “Good luck; your challenger will be Eucalicta.” Tursorl ordered.

“Do I have to KILL him to pass?” Micklang pretended to look very worried about that.

“I’m afraid so.” Tursorl answered, handing Micklang his torch.

“Me, sir? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Eucalicta asked, looking a little worried too. It seemed that Tursorl’s plan wasn’t quite a surprise to the eucaliptus tree after all.

“What’s the matter, Eucalicta? Scared a small squirrel will defeat you in battle?” Tursorl queried with a smirk.

“As a matter of fact, yes. There’s something about him I don’t like.” This, than, was the queue that Tursorl had been waiting for. Micklang, during his entire time with the clan, had never once appeared as anything dangerous or even threatening. Eucalicta was trying to question Tursorl’s authority.

Tursorl thundered over to Eucalicta, his thumping causing Micklang to fall down.

“Are you disobeying a direct order from me?” Tursorl questioned angrily.

The other trees gasped as they knew what that meant.

Eucalicta tried to avoid the stare of Tursorl, but knew it was useless.

“Yes, I am. What are you going to do about it?” He finally answered, gruffly.

Tursorl became furious as the trees surrounding them backed away carefully, one of them picking up Micklang to protect him.

Tursorl growled the one word that the trees were dreading to hear.

“Trengthgrit!”

And then, before Micklang could do or say anything, Tursorl grabbed another torch and prepared himself to fight.

“I hope that Tursorl survives.” Micklang whispered to the tree that was holding him.

“He’d better, because Eucalicta wants you gone and if he wins, you can be certain he will give you no mercy.”

Tursorl was the first to attack, sending some poison-filled roots and branches at Eucalicta, but somehow the evil tree managed to block it with a shield of vines and roots.

Then Tursorl sent some secret roots underground and tripped Eucalicta over, while Eucalicta sent several flying balls of dead leaves mixed with some poisonous branches and small logs at Tursorl.

Tursorl managed to bounce the balls back at Eucalicta, which caused him more pain.

Eucalicta struggled back up and pointed at Tursorl, and in one micro-second, sent his extended arm out and begun strangling Tursorl.

Tursorl, who hadn’t been prepared for this move, found he was unable to move his legs or arms and realized that Eucalicta was smiling in victory.

Tursorl dropped his fire-torch and it landed next to Micklang.

“Too good for you, huh chief Tursorl? Maybe you shouldn’t have been chief after all.” Eucalicta remarked, grinning at Tursorl evilly.

Micklang stared at the fire-torch that Tursorl dropped and then had an idea.

Sneaking into the circle of watchers, he made his way to the other side where he could get closer to Eucalicta.

“You never did fit into my clan, Eucalicta, it’s a wonder I ever kept you.”

“And yet, as you have found out, the young can be stronger than the extremely ancient and powerless, eh?”

Tursorl took a quick glance down at Micklang and then back at Eucalicta, thinking of something to distract him.

“You were always the odd type, Eucalicta, even your mother had to agree, especially seeing as she abandoned you here.” Tursorl pointed out.

“You leave my mother out of this, Tursorl!”

Micklang sneaked over to Eucalicta’s huge feet and prepared to set fire to them, signalling to Tursorl to keep distracting Eucalicta.

“But it’s true, Eucalicta, you were always the worst in the clan, and you will be until you die.”

“Oh, really? And how do you know that, Tursorl?” Eucalicta asked, sneering at Tursorl and not noticing the faint smell of smoke.

“Oh, just by the fact that you’re about to die.”

Eucalicta chuckled evilly, even though he was feeling a little bit hot.

“Do you think I’m going to fall for that, old timer? I turn around to see if there is anyone about to attack and then you get out and attack me that way. That’s the oldest trick in the book, but I don’t blame you, old timer. Hahahahaa!”

Micklang ran around to Eucalicta’s left foot and set fire to that one as well.

Eucalicta was still feeling hot, but he imagined it was because he was feeling over-joyed with victory.

Micklang grabbed some tough vines and tied Eucalicta’s feet to a huge boulder and waited for the fire to do its work.

Tursorl was worried that the fire wasn’t working fast enough and wondered why Eucalicta hadn’t felt the extreme heat from the flames. If it was him, he’d be freaking out and desperately trying to find water.

“It appears that not everything is as it seems, though, Eucalicta. I’d say things are burning high and close if you ask me.” Tursorl remarked.

“What are you talking about, you mad tree chief? Burning, I can’t see anything burning around here, what are you talking abo … oh, gregthgrot!” Eucalicta exclaimed as he saw the fire burning up around him.

He turned around and saw Micklang standing there smiling.

“Warm greetings!”

“No! You meddling squirrel, you won’t get away with this.”

Tursorl and the other trees closed in around Eucalicta, stopping his only way of escape completely.

“No, YOU won’t get away at all, Eucalicta. You were planning to take over my clan! But now… YOU WILL PAY!!” Tursorl glared at Eucalicta angrily.

Micklang was pushed away as the trees closed in and started attacking Eucalicta. Micklang never saw what the trees did to Eucalicta, only that when they had finished there was nothing left of him but a huge pile of bark, ash and leaves.

Tursorl walked past Micklang without saying anything, but Micklang could understand clearly that he did not want to be talked to yet.

Micklang followed the trees out of the cave and back to the river, where he sat and wondered what he should do now.

A few hours later, Micklang was called to Tursorl for a special good-bye.

Tursorl had prepared a huge fare-well for Micklang and a special surprise made just for him.

“Well, my boy, looks like you passed the test quicker and easier than I thought. Your help in defeating and revealing that … traitor … has clearly shown me you deserve the title of next tree chief. And to show you my appreciation, here is something that will help you on your adventures should you ever come across any trees that don’t seem … nice … at first,” Tursorl explained, handing Micklang a small medallion shaped like a tree with a crown on it.

Micklang accepted the medallion, smiling, and wondered what the medallion was made of.

“And one other thing, before you leave, Micklang. You’ll need a suit to wear for the medallion and a belt for any weapons you might find, and we’ve prepared that for you. Bring it forward, Ashwood.”

Tursorl’s helpful friend, Ashwood, the same guard that Micklang had met once before, walked forward and presented Micklang with a stunning green uniform with small wooden buttons and two pockets just below where a chest would be. There was also a small belt with some pockets for weapons that Micklang noticed was brown with a hint of golden colour mixed in it.

Micklang took the items and tried them on, finding them fitting perfectly.

“Thank you so much, Chief Tursorl. These are most wonderful gifts, and I hope they can help me out with whatever trouble I might encounter.” Micklang said.

“I reckon they will, Micky my friend. We shall make you a little boat and you can continue your venture, with my thanks for your help and approval for you completing the test. You are now known as the next tree chief, Micklang, and may it help you wherever you go.” Tursorl picked Micklang up and led his trees back to the river.

Micklang waited patiently as the trees created a boat for him that was big enough to hold at least thirteen animals the same size as Micklang on it. Once they had done this, Micklang hopped into his boat and looked back at Tursorl, blinking a tear away.

Micklang was slightly sad to leave, but he knew he had to. For some reason, his heart and mind were telling him to move on, and he knew better than to argue with that.

Micklang waved to the clan, changing his face to look happy and joyful.

“Good-bye Tursorl! I hope I have the pleasure of meeting you again, and I hope you live a long and wonderful life.” Micklang announced.

“Don’t worry; I’ll be sure to keep myself busy for you. Goodbye, Micklang the Squirrel Warrior, Kin to the chief of faraway lake. Safe journey to you and never forget us, my friend.” Tursorl had to raise his voice slightly as Micklang sailed off.

Micklang let the boat sail itself as he watched the trees cheer and shout as he left.

“Farewell, Chief Tursorl. Long live the chief of the faraway lake.”

Back in the camp, the news of Eucalicta’s death reached his family. His wife, in sorrow, decided her best outcome was to leave the clan. However, the son stayed on. And as the long days passed, the son started to plan vengeance on Micklang and a plot to become chief himself.