Oaknut Company

There is a legend of a creature that lives in the woods, hidden amongst the trees. Often mistaken for a tree or a gathering of brush, but to mistake it was to die. The creature’s bark was made of lightning, its breath, fire. To stumble unwittingly into the midst of the beast was to bring devastation on all the land.

Every culture had a name for it—Jeongi, Dien, Umeme, Elekter—but it was the same; universal in the horror it evoked.

There were those that might suggest that the beast was just legend—a tale to instill caution into the young and reckless—but members of the Oaknut community knew better. They had seen the ruin brought on by the beast firsthand. They had struggled to survive in the barren wasteland that it left for them. They had starved through winter after the trees had been stripped of their fruits, then scrambled to navigate the land as the rains and the melt tore the very earth out from under them.

The Oaknut community survived—or, at least some of them had. A disaster like the one brought on by the wrath of the Elekter had taken its tole on them, starting with the poor Chitters boy. It was he who had come across the creature. Perhaps he hadn’t been vigilant, or perhaps he was arrogant enough to think himself invincible. The Oaknutians would never know, because the boy didn’t survive the encounter.

He leapt bodily onto the spine of the beast and suffered its wrath. The Elekter drove lightning into his body, causing him to cry out before being thrown into the air. The creature then breathed fire into his lifeless body so that the world ignited where he fell.

This was how the incident was reported, anyway. Sinktooth and Skitters were amongst the witnesses that rushed ahead of the wave of flames as it spread outward into the forest. It was their report that saved so many Oaknutians from certain death.

There were, of course, those that didn’t make it out in time, the ones that believed their trees and tunnels would protect them. They were wrong, and the loss of such goodhearted, but woefully mislead squirrels wracked the community.

The Oaknutians returned to the scorched land after the smoke lifted to survey the loss. They mourned through the winter, collecting the funguses of new growth to eek out their survival. All the while the charred forest echoed with whispers of the squirrel’s revenge.

Now, the time had finally come. After years of recovery and growth. After nursing the land back to life, planting and spreading seeds in the only way the squirrels knew, they were ready to face the creature.

“No longer will it hold our land in a grip of fear. Today the beast will die.”

~ ~ ~

“Our soldiers are in position and ready for your command, Sir!” Sergeant Flufftail reported, offering a solute with the flick of his tail.

“Excellent work, soldier. I’ll give the order once the scout team returns with their report,” Lieutenant Puffchest said. He gave a quick nod at his lieutenant before returning his focus to the lair of the beast.

From his position, high in the oldest oak tree, he could keep tabs on the entire situation. He could see the troops lined up along the Elekter’s net and the soldiers huddled in the trenches along the base. Beyond them, the Elekter stood as motionless as a tree, spine swaying in the breeze. At its side, the den where the human servants cowered, waiting to do the beast’s bidding.

“The Elekter suspects nothing. He thinks his net will protect him from us, but though it is made from some indestructible bark, it does not extend into the earth,” Lieutenant Puffchest mused, rubbing two tiny paws together underneath the tuft of his furry chest.

In the distance the scouting squad made their retreat, hopping lightly along the scaley top of the den and up into the branches. They scurried around the back of the Elekter’s lair so that they wouldn’t be detected. It was a redundancy suggested by Old Ma’am Squishcheeks, for while the sentinels along the net should draw the attention of the beast and his servants, a squirrel could never be too careful. There was too much at stake to risk being detected.

Puffchest and Flufftail tracked the scout’s progress along the tree-line, wincing at every rustle of leaves or snap of a branch that might draw attention. The scouts were made up of the sneakiest and craftiest of squirrels, but still, every sound seemed amplified in the still of the dry fall air.

Finally, Bigchirp descended onto the rendezvous branch, his fellow scouts gathering at his tail, “Ready for report, sir?” he asked in a low, raspy voice forced to be too quiet.

“What’s the situation?” Puffchest asked.

“It’s the fat one, sir,” Bigchirp said.

“Rootrot!” Flufftail cursed, then brough his paws up to his mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, you’ve spoken what’s on all our minds. Continue Bigchirp,” Puffchest said, raising the fur at his back.

Bigchirp gave the rest of the report. “He is watching the squirrels at the top of the net and does not know about our soldiers on the ground.”

“Excellent news Bigchirp. Has there been any sign of the deathstick?” Puffchest asked.

The squirrels shuddered at the mention of the terrible weapon, flicking their tails nervously and twitching their noses.

“Quickpaw saw the human stash it inside the den. Its belly was full of stonebark,” Bigchirp confirmed.

Puffchest’s nose twitched again. They had lost good squirrels to the deathstick before. The fat one was slow, but his aim was true.

“We will wait until the fat one leaves,” He said.

“A whole sun?” Flufftail asked, eyes wide.

Puffchest was already moving. He hopped over to the far edge of the branch where the suckers rocked with his weight. He peered down at the soldiers hidden in the trench.

“Not completely,” he said, sniffing absently at an oak nut. “The ground squirrels will work through the day and night to create our entrance-point.”

The squirrels nodded at this. Puffchest had proven himself to be an excellent leader and this plan once again showed his cunning in the face of adversity.

“Flufftail!” He chirped.

“Yes sir?”

“Command your ground troops to begin. Make certain they see neither sun nor moon in their work.”

“Aye, Sir!” Flufftail saluted before scurrying down the trunk to relay the order.

The ground squirrels dug through the night, creating a massive crevice in the earth and clearing out the dirt under the net. The squirrels sitting atop the net drew all attention. Every time the fat one gazed out his eyes fell on them. Twice he stuck his hand out the window, pointing a finger and twitching his thumb in their direction. He was completely oblivious to the work being done underground. By the time the sun rose large and bright in the cloudless sky they had made their way three squirrel lengths into the Elektor’s lair, all while remaining hidden underground.

Flufftail scampered up the backside of the giant oak, fighting back the morning chill. He reached the top limb where Puffchest waited and stifled a yawn.

“Sorry Sir, it’s been a long night,” he said.

“It has,” Puffchest agreed.

“The troops are in position to surface now. I ordered a short rest just before dawn.”

“A wise decision. The battle is likely to be long.”

Flufftail nodded somberly. He knew what they were up against. They would lose many squirrels in the coming battle. But justice demanded sacrifice. The Elektor had to be brought down.

The songbird’s tune carried the sun to the treetops as the squirrels waited, nibbling their ration. They watched as another human arrived to trade places with the fat one. Puffchest recognized this one—he was younger with a dark, floppy mane. He sang loud songs and rarely gave a second glance into the treetops. This was ideal. Puffchest departed with the scouts to confirm the fat one’s departure.

As Flufftail watched the humans in their greeting ritual, he were joined by the littlest of the Whitestripe clan. The children had been told to stay clear of the Elektor’s lair, but Little Whitestripe was terrible at following instructions.

“Why do they serve the Elektor anyway?” Little Whitestripe mused, licking his paws and fidgeting with the shell of a nut ration.

“It’s some form of sorcery. Do you see the light inside the den? The Elektor directs his lightning into the dwellings of the humans in exchange for their service. They’re imprisoned by their dependence and thus do his bidding,” Flufftail explained.

“If we attack the Elektor, won’t the humans defend him?” Whitestripe asked.

“Not if we break the spell. We will break the connection between the Elektor’s lightning and the humans so he must fight alone.” Flufftail gave a mischievous wink at the youngling.

 “Whitestripe, You’ve been told to remain with the others!” Puffchest scolded upon his return.

“Aw Puffchest, that’s no fun at all. There’s nowhere to scamper in the clearing and I can’t stand the burrows anymore. I want to help!” little Whitestripe begged.

“Absolutely not! The battleground is no place for our younglings,” Puffchest snapped.

“I could sit—”

“No. This sacrifice is not yours to make. Go!” Puffchest dropped down to all four in the customary show of dominance and barked at the Whitestripe boy.

Being younger and smaller, Little Whitestripe wasn’t in a position to challenge the Lieutenant, so he tucked tail and scittered off toward the safety of the burrows. Puffchest watched him until he was certain he’d gone, hair sticking up and making him look twice his usual size.

The bang of a door followed by the roar of the fat one’s beast caused him to whirl. Flufftail’s body twitched nervously as he watched the beast pull away from the den below.

“Give the signal Sergeant.” Puffchest said. The calm of his voice masked the truth of what was about to happen.

Without words, Flufftail descended the tree.

Puffchest paced the branch, unable to shed his nervous energy. His duty was to oversee it all from up high, to give the commands and rally the troops. Make the hard decisions…

But it didn’t suit him. Puffchest thought himself a warrior. Only the weight of responsibility to the Oaknut Company rooted him to the branch. Begrudgingly he acted his part and kept his vigil. His heart raced as the dirt began to move. The ground squirrels were surfacing.

The first wave broke the surface, keeping their bodies low as they hurried toward the belly of the Elektor. They were silent fury, a wave of tiny terror that made Puffchest proud.

The entrance to the den opened. The dark maned human was coming to fight for his master. Puffchest gave the signal to the waiting troops.

“Sentinels, attack!”

The squirrels on the net descended at once, filling the air with their battle cries and swarming the human. They attacked every square inch of him, shedding his armor and bringing him to the ground.

“Hold him!” Puffchest cried out.

The squirrels obeyed, rolling his body under the fence and away so the Elektor had no choice but to face them alone. They would have to decide what to do with the human after the battle. The squirrels weren’t a violent folk, but they couldn’t free him and risk aiding the beast before the battle was won.

Though the troops did their best to keep the human silent, Puffchest could hear his cries as he was swept away.

“All’s fair in war, M’boy,” he mumbled, returning his attention to the ground troops.

Flufftail lead them up the den, weapons in mouth. They would attack the Elektor from the top down, overwhelming it with their numbers. Surely the beast didn’t have enough lightning for them all!

The sounds of war were almost more than he could bear. The zap and pop of the Elektor’s fury seemed to know no bounds. It was unaffected by the numbers that descended upon it.

Again, and again the troops charged. Again, and again they fell, smoldering in defeat.

“No,” Puffchest breathed, overwrought by the extent of his falling brethren.

He descended to the third lowest branch so his commands could be heard more clearly. There was no choice but to alter the plan of attack. Too many lives would be lost this way.

At the edge of the branch he commanded, “Below, Sergeant! Send the troops to attack below!”

It was at that moment that the first tendrils of flame crawled through the dried wisps of grass below.

~ ~ ~

Flufftail heard the Lieutenant’s command. The only option was to obey. As more troops leapt for the Elektors spine he barked to the third wave, “You heard the orders! Dismantle the armor and attack below! Don’t wait, don’t fear and don’t relent!”

Dozens of squirrels turned on their heals and launched themselves at the Elektor’s armor. They scratched and gnawed, kicked and bit until the slabs of protective bark began to break free.

But the Elektor continued to fight, sending lighting down to its base and felling more squirrels. It breathed fire on their spent bodies so that a second branch of flames spread around the far side of the lair.

Flufftail choked against the rising smoke and cried out for his men, willing them forth and launching himself into the fray.

~ ~ ~

Little Whitestripe knew he should obey, but obeying was such a hard thing to do. Instead he turned at the tree before the burrows and scampered back toward the lair, making certain to keep to the backsides of the trees so he wouldn’t be spotted.

On his way he passed the group of soldiers carrying the human back to the burrows. The human let out an animalistic cry, followed by a series of yips and gibbers.

Little Whitestripe climbed higher to avoid detection. He gave one last look at the prisoner before continuing on his way back to the Elektor’s lair.

This part of the plan was too unbelievable. There was no way the squirrels would manage to teach the human to speak. They were far too stupid for something so complex. And, even if they succeeded, Whitestripe didn’t believe they could rally the humans to their cause…

Not while the magic lightning held them captive.

As he neared the battleground his senses heightened. Smoke rose from the ground as flames licked at the nearby trees, promising the Elektor was putting up a good fight. In the distance he could hear the mixed cries of the squirrels as they battled on, met by the cruel buzzes and zaps of the beast.

The Oaknut Company needed him.

Resisting the desire to flee, Whitestripe pressed on through the dense smoke. He climbed up the naked tree on the west side of the lair so that he could see.

The ground squirrel troops were fighting still, encircled by flames. At the foot of the best he could see Flufftail gnawing the beast’s mangled tendon, his whiskers singed and snout covered in char. They had silienced the lightning from one of the Elektor’s bases but he could still hear more zaps.

He saw Pufftail on the ground with another group of soldiers, trenching out the land and blocking the bulk of the flames so they wouldn’t reach the burrows.

So many squirrels had fallen.

It would take years to build the population again.

Whitestripe knew they wouldn’t defeat the Elektor on their own. It was too powerful, too much of a sacrifice.

The squirrels needed the humans to banish it from the lands. Stupid as they were, they seemed to have an innate knowledge of the anatomy of the Elektor…

But the humans would never help. Not unless…

Whitestripe launched himself down to the main line—the artery of the beast. He could see where it fed the beast’s power outward, toward the human’s dwellings. With one, calculated leap he landed on the wire.

~ ~ ~

Puffchest looked up from the trench. The world was still.

Flufftail pulled his head away from one of the beast’s gnarled tendons. Their eyes met in a sea of smoke.

The beast was quiet.

Now the real war could begin.