Willowbrook Wood: A Narration, Representation & Prognostication of our Habitation in Three Parts

By Anatoli Korro

How it was. How it is. How it shall be.

For over two thousand years, the animals of Willowbrook Wood have lived side by side, sometimes at peace, more often at war. Empires have risen. Empires have fallen. After two millennia of conflict and strife, the animals of the wood have resolved to end the senseless bloodshed once and for all.

The Willowbrook Union, the great pan-species alliance was founded to bring peace and prosperity to all. But now, after several decades of increasing wealth and harmony, the cracks between the species are once again beginning to appear. Economic hardship and a sudden surge in immigrant species have led to increasingly animalist beliefs and a rise in specism.

What will the future hold for Willowbrook Wood?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398486959

Book preview

Part the First

How It Was

Chapter I

The Beginning

In the beginning, there was only ice. Ice and snow and Arctic winds. Many thousands of years ago, the area that would become known as Willowbrook Wood lay over a kilometre below the surface of a vast glacier. As the huge ice-sheet migrated incrementally southwards, its enormous, irresistible mass carved a broad, shallow valley in the soft, arable land beneath it. Around twenty to twenty-five thousand years ago, as the climate began to change and the ice slowly began to melt and finally retreated, it left in its wake a wide, gently undulating depression of fertile, rolling green countryside that inclined softly upwards at its eastern and western extremities. A capacious concavity of roughly ten million square kilometres gouged out of the earth’s surface.

Down the centre of this glacial valley snaked a narrow winding rivulet that eventually flowed out into a great sea to the south. Over time, this narrow, meandering tributary would gradually erode its banks, incrementally eating away at the soft, arable land on either side, growing wider and wider through the centuries, swelling, until it had grown into a wide, gentle-flowing river. In time, this waterway would gain the name the Willow Brook, due to the propensity for willow trees and willowherb wild-flowers to flourish upon the northern portions of its banks. Subsequently, over many millennia, the wood which was to appear in the valley on the western side of this placid river would come to be known as the Willowbrook Wood.

Over time, warmed by the benevolent rays of the sun, the lush green grass on the western side of the Brook gave birth to a plethora of trees, shrubs, flowers and plants. As aforementioned, the northern edge of the Wood was populated with broad, round crack willow trees and weeping willows, their long, trailing branches stretching down to softly brush the surface of the water below as it ambled imperturbably past. Their drooping limbs gently caressing the pale violet buds of the willowherb flowers that sought refuge under the trees’ dangling, tentacle-like arms.

The main central part of the Wood itself which was to flourish on the western side of the waterway was inhabited by tall, lofty, sprawling deciduous trees. There were majestic, pedunculate oaks with their irregularly-lobed leaves and clusters of distinctive green acorns; noble, stately beech trees with their dense canopies and curled, oval leaves; jagged-leafed, picturesque elm trees; rich green sycamores with their characteristic quintuple-lobed leaves and paired propeller fruits; sprawling, conker-producing horse-chestnuts; tall, round ash trees; silver birch, with their distinctive cracked, flaking bark; smaller hazel trees with their round, jagged leaves. A whole cornucopia of deciduous splendour and majesty creating a vast, luscious, wholesome forest.

The profusion of these deciduous trees allowed a rich, plentiful undergrowth to thrive within the Wood. The forest floor was carpeted with swathes of bracken and moss and ferns, interspersed with occasional bursts of colourful wild-flowers—tall, bright pink foxgloves with their pretty, conical bells; white-petalled sneezewort; dainty purple bluebells; golden yellow buttercups; crimson roses and tulips. A whole rainbow of colours. There was also an abundance of fungi such as the common, edible wood mushrooms with their aromatic aniseed odour; bright yellow, funnel-shaped chanterelle with their distinctive apricot aroma that infused the air; the uniquely identifiable fly agaric toadstools, with their white-spotted red caps, immediately enticing yet poisonous to those who were foolish enough to be inveigled to taste them.

Further south of this deciduous forest, stretching from the western edge of the valley all the way across to the Brook, there grew taller evergreen trees. Here soaring firs and towering pines were predominant with their sharp needles and pendulous cones. Cypress and yew trees also grew densely along the southern extremities of this coniferous forest around the river’s estuary, their flexible, rubbery, thin branches creating a thick, dense canopy above the forest floor that blocked out the light. The lack of natural light in this southern part of the Wood added to the turbulent twisted mass of bracken and ferns, tangled and knotted with giant hogweed and nettles and bramble. Whereas the central and northern regions of the Wood were serene and sedate, this south-easterly region was wild and overgrown, a dense mass of interwoven vegetation and thorns. Here also grew, as if to typify these wild, untamed and dark, dangerous nether regions, poisonous hemlock and death cap mushrooms, lending a distinctly perilous air to the woodland environment. But travelling further westwards the forest gave way once more to the mighty soaring coniferous pines and firs which typified the southern regions of the Wood. Further to the north of the central deciduous forests the oaks and sycamores were gradually replaced with more coniferous pines and firs as well as great swathes of spruce trees which populated these colder, snowy northern regions of the Wood. Thus the constitution of the forest itself was made up of three distinct regions or bands; snow-covered coniferous trees in the north which gave way to dense deciduous forests in the centre, which in turn gave way once more to vast coniferous forests in the south.

The main part of the Wood itself, that is to say its central, predominantly deciduous region, grew not upon the western bank of the Brook directly, but a fair distance away, on the crest of a gently rising slope. This interceding area, betwixt tree and watercourse, was lush, fertile, green grassland stretching as far as the eye could see through the softly undulating, rolling pastures. These western banks of the river were home to intermittent clusters of tall reeds and tufts of great reedmace with its brown, sausage-like flowers. Venturing further westwards still, up the gentle gradient towards the trees, soft rush and wood rush sprouted copiously, giving way to wood sedge, and on the border of the Wood itself common polypody ferns intertwined with clumps of drooping pendulous sedge. The entirety of this grassland area was a deep, rich, verdant shade of green. During the warmer months the morning dew would make the meadows shimmer and glow with plentiful, luxuriant fertility.

Over on the north-western edge of the Wood the forest gave way to a profusion of shrubs and bushes. Buckthorn and dogwood with clumps of black berries; red-berried hawthorn and honeysuckle bushes; tangles of thorny bramble with their clusters of juicy red and black berries. There were also crab apple and wild pear trees and wild strawberries that grew here in the rich, fertile soil. The land in the valley on this western side sloped downwards once more towards a small stream which separated the forest itself from the grasslands and marshes which spread out towards the north-western regions of the valley, so as to render the wood proper in the centre of the valley on a sort of convex acclivity which was able to look down upon the surrounding landscape on each of its sides. This little stream, which ran from the north and curved around to the west, was much smaller than the main, central waterway of the valley, more of a tributary, and as such never came to be deemed worthy of any appellation other than the Stream.

Beyond the Stream on the extreme western flank of the valley, before the ground which was carved by the glacial flow climbed the gentle incline of the depression, the land was partitioned into several contrasting constituents. Far to the north-west stood a small, isolated thicket of snow-covered spruce trees, the southern tip of which gave way to an area of vast open green fields, in the centre of which was an area of swampy marshland where tall rush, sedge and reed grasses flourished, interspersed with clumps of round, dimple-leafed marsh pennywort and dainty little lilac marsh willowherb flowers. The green meadows around the swampland continued southwards until they met the Stream. Across the other side of the tributary, travelling southwards, the grasslands opened onto an expanse of wood rush and wood sedge grass mixed with occasional moonwort and pignut plants that proliferated along the edge of the coniferous pine and fir tree forests that ran all the way down to the south-eastern regions aforementioned. Here, too, amongst the majestic pines and firs flourished soft yellow primrose, delicate purple forget-me-nots and fronds of white stitchwort. And finally, at the southernmost end of this westerly region of the valley, stretching down to the great expanse of salt-water in the south, the grasses grew taller, with great swaying masses of rush and reed grass that shook and bowed gracefully in the breeze, mingled with tall soft grass and cotton grass and knots of timothy and catstail.

Contrary to this expanse of lush vegetation on the western banks of the Brook, the eastern banks of the river and the land the stretched away towards the rising sun on the horizon was, for want of a better word, barren. Empty. Desolate. Due to the unique topography of the valley, the soil here was unsuitable for the sustained growth of anything but the most hardy, robust vegetation. Stretching eastwards from the Brook as far as the eye could discern, all the way up the rolling edge of the valley to far distant mountain ranges in the east, was a great swathe of arid, yellow-brown, tufted grass and bare, dusty earth. No colourful flowers interrupted its monotony. No thickets of fertility or copses of fecundity. The only discernible features were the occasional stunted, twisted, dry remnants of bushes and the sporadic stumps of long-deceased trees from an ancient forest which must have flourished there long ago. True, at the southern edge on the eastern side of the river there was a copse of cypress trees, germinated, no doubt, by a westerly wind scattering seeds from their cousins in the Wood on the other side of the riverbank, but other than these sprawling evergreens the eastern part of the valley across the Brook was devoid of any other obvious characteristic. There were no pretty pink purslane or willowherb flowers as on the western banks of the Brook. There were no yellow buttercups or marigolds or dandelions proliferating amongst its endless landscape. There were no swathes of succulent white melilot and clover, nor moors full of purple heath and heather. No colour except the uninterrupted, infertile hues of weak, pallid greens and pale, dusty browns.

Further south, as already mentioned, was a vast expanse of salt-water. A sea, almost entirely surrounded by land, of which Willowbrook Wood constituted its entire northern shores. This great expanse of water, like the Stream, would simply become referred to as the Sea. The Sea was itself dotted with the occasional island here and there, predominantly towards its eastern shores, most fairly small and covered in grass and a few hazel or poplar trees and craggy cliffs, a few a little larger where tall coniferous pines and fir trees grew. There was also, in the middle of the Wood, a small, isolated pond located between the deciduous forests in the centre and the coniferous trees in the south. A tranquil, irregularly-shaped oval, fringed with tall reed grass and spikes of water horsetail, the surface of which being partially covered with broad-leafed pondweed and a carpet of perennial duckweed, occasionally interrupted by pretty little yellow and white water-lilies.

The concluding feature of noteworthiness that remains to be portrayed in our geographical description of the area was a small stretch of craggy sandstone cliffs on the western bank of the Brook at its most southerly promontory, overlooking the gentle flowing estuary of the river as it rolled out into the great expanse of the Sea. These smooth, orange, sandstone rocks stood in stark contrast to the ocean of greenery which surrounded them, the lower portions of which were partly covered in a thick, fecund blanket of ferns and moss. Thus was the area that would one day be known as Willowbrook Wood delineated.

To put the Wood into a more global perspective, to the north the snow-covered forests eventually gave way to frozen Arctic tundra, whilst to the south, across the Sea, lay another vast, sun-baked, arid continent of great deserts and thick, impenetrable jungle. To the east, on the other side of the mountainous peaks which marked the eastern perimeter of the glacial valley, stretched more barren, vacuous and desolate lands and far distant woods and thick tropical jungles, and to the west, on the other side of the hills that delineated the western periphery of Willowbrook Wood, stretched a vast expanse of water that was known as the Ocean, across which lay other vast woods and forests and great mountain ranges.

And so, over many thousands of years, thus would Willowbrook Wood grow to become an amalgamation of trees, grasses, plants and bushes. A conglomeration of colours, hues, textures and shades. An accumulation of scents, smells, aromas and fragrances. Uninhabited. Untouched. Unspoilt. A place where, so far, no life, other than that bestowed by Mother Nature herself, had yet to intrude. A place of sublime, endless tranquillity and peacefulness. A place of natural beauty and picturesque splendour. And so it would remain, for many thousands of years. But the silence and serenity would not last forever.

Chapter II

The Early Age

The abundance of sweet, rich and fertile land that constituted the Willowbrook Wood was not long in attracting life to the area. Enticed by the succulent, lush grasses and wild-flowers, the ripe, juicy berries and wholesome, nourishing plants and nuts, life soon began to flourish in all quarters. First came the insects, moths and butterflies, the crickets, bugs, wasps and ants, the beetles, spiders, flies and bees, all attracted to the colourful, fragrant flowers, and following these, in time, migrating from distant lands in the south and east, came those who would thrive within and come to dominate the Wood. Those who would call it their home. The animals.

First to arrive, due no doubt to their precipitate means of travel, were the birds, ravens and crows and swallows amongst them, together with magpies, robins and thrush, who built their homes amongst the branches of the forest trees. There were also kestrels and kites and partridges and small flocks of starlings, sparrows, cuckoos and finch, too. These feathered creatures soon began to nest predominantly in the tall trees at the southern end of the Wood, where the branches and boughs of the tall coniferous trees offered ample room for their lofty abodes, and also amongst the crags and crevices along the rocky sandstone cliffs in the south of the Wood where the Brook flowed out into the Sea. Some made their homes on the little rocky islands out to sea, and some were to eventually migrate as far as the north-western corner of the Wood to the small copse of spruce trees that grew there, whilst others were to settle in the lush, arable pastures on the western fringes of the valley. The forests, which had once been imperturbably silent, then filled with the soft hum and buzz of insects, now became alive with birdsong, the sweet, shrill music of the birds drifting mellifluously through the trees and filling the Wood with the unmistakeable sound of life.

Next came the smaller of the animals, the mice, voles, hedgehogs and moles amongst them, timidly venturing into the Wood, enticed by the insects and worms and the edible plants and the tall grasses. These timorous, nervous mammals dared not venture too deep into the dark unknown forests, preferring to make their homes on the fringes of the Wood and in the grasslands that surrounded it.

Then came the more inquisitive and curious animals, themselves eager to discover what oblations the Wood may hold for them. There were weasels and stoats who ventured further into the heart of the deciduous Wood, making their homes amongst the vegetation of the forest floor. The tall, nut-laden trees in the west of the forest were soon populated by squirrels, whilst the sweet, succulent, tender grasses on the western banks of the Brook were soon inundated with rabbits and hares, the gentle, rolling green slopes abundant with floppy ears and fluffy tails and studded with innumerable burrows.

Finally, with the exuberance of plant and animal life flourishing in the Wood, came the larger animals. Otters were soon fishing in the small Stream in the north-west and foraging along its banks. Foxes, too, roamed the plentiful fields in the west on the edge of the Wood and across the Stream, whilst badgers forged deeper into the very heart of the deciduous woodland itself. In the north of the forest, amongst the snow-covered trees, deer roamed the tall coniferous forests, whilst the barren lands on the eastern side of the Brook were soon home to packs of carnivorous wolves.

There were also ducks which swam lazily about on the little pond in the middle of the Wood, whilst croaking frogs were soon to be found in the marshy swampland in the west. Whilst in the dense, tangled, twisted, thorny part of the Wood, a part of the forest which would come to be known as the Wild Wood due to its wild, impenetrable undergrowth, dwelt wild, untamed animals that scurried and lurked in the dank depths. Rats and ferrets, mink and polecats, pine martens and wildcats. All scurrying and skulking about in the darkness amongst the impenetrable mass of nettles and ferns and bracken.

All these migrations, of course, took place over many thousands of years. But little by little, incrementally, Willowbrook Wood slowly began to come to life. Over the many centuries the various species of animal gradually started to flourish. Each began to cultivate and dominate their respective homes within the Wood. Over time the animals began to refer to their particular part of the Wood, the region where they had predominantly settled, as their neck. No one seems to recall just where this colloquialism first originated, but soon the phrase neck of the woods passed into the vernacular, coming to signify a distinct, separate area of the Wood where one particular species of animal resided or originated from.

For many centuries, the animals lived their simple lives in the forest and its surrounding fields, each predominantly keeping to their own neck of the woods, each concerning themselves mainly with their own business. There were travellers and traders, of course, who journeyed throughout the Wood carrying with them tales and stories between the different regions, and there were also the inevitable occasional disputes and squabbles between one species and another over territory or borders or their right to assert their dominance over one another, such is animal nature. But in time a natural order of precedence was generally established. Evolution and natural selection, concepts themselves that were several millennia from being understood or accepted by the animals, determined the approximate order of dominance amongst the inhabitants of the Wood. This is to say that basically the food chain defined their order of precedence to a great extent—the larger, more powerful or more intelligent animals, the more industrious or assiduous, were at the top, the smaller, more vulnerable, less organised were at the bottom. Not that things would always remain so. Naturally there were exceptions, but gradually this concept became accepted as the way of the Wood. It was just how life was. And it was under these conditions for several thousand years that the animals of Willowbrook Wood lived, thrived and prospered in their environment.

For many years, life for the animals of Willowbrook Wood consisted primarily of eating (or being eaten if unfortunate enough to be situated lower down the food chain), sleeping and procreating. Their daily lives, from the day they were born until the day they died, centred upon the one most important necessity common to all—food. The birds and frogs dined on the abundant insects. The rabbits and voles feasted on the plentiful grasses and flowers. The deer devoured the bountiful berries and wild-plants. The squirrels crunched the copious nuts. The badgers and moles consumed worms and slugs, and the foxes, weasels, wolves and stoats ate whatever or whomever they could find. Morning, noon and night. Spring, summer, autumn and winter. Whatever the time, whatever the day, the animals of the Wood devoted almost the entirety of their waking hours to the pursuit, discovery or collection of the food they needed just to survive.

Thus was life in Willowbrook Wood until around four and a half thousand years ago when the first literate civilisations began to develop, first out on the small islands in the east of the Sea close to the rocky outcrop at the southern edge of the Brook, and then later around those same sandstone rocks and the surrounding firs, pines and cypress trees that grew around the estuary of the Brook. These two early civilisations¹ would lead eventually to the founding of the first truly great species of the Wood, when around two and a half thousand years ago, an age of wisdom and enlightenment swept through, or perhaps more accurately, touched upon, the southern regions of the land. The birds, with their ability to travel great distances, far and wide, and to look down from their lofty positions upon foreign and distant lands and observe and acquire new ideas and new ways of doing things, were instrumental in carrying these new concepts and understandings to the Wood.

It was the Ravens who were first to raise themselves above the other animals, influenced, no doubt, by what they had seen and learnt and experienced on their journeys across the Sea and to lands far to the east. They brought home to the rocky cliffs at the estuary of the Brook where they built their nests a new way of thinking and new ideas. The new systems and beliefs that they developed and aspired to would in turn spread throughout the Wood and influence the other animals.

The Ravens established a system of democracy, a concept to some animals whose necks of the Wood were ruled by brute strength alone, so foreign and incomprehensible that it would take many centuries before they even came close to a system of governance that resembled it, and even then it was much corrupted and dysfunctional. Whilst the other animals were fighting and squabbling amongst themselves for control and dominance of their species and their necks of the Wood, the Ravens were ushering in a new system of discourse, thinking, understanding and egalitarianism that established rule that was fair, just and constructive to their society. While other animals were still resorting to violence to make decisions and settle disputes, the Ravens were becoming organised and liberal and enlightened. The Ravens themselves were a collection of individual (often warring) Raven states, but their democratic values and systems of governance allowed them to unite to repel foreign invaders from outside the Wood to the east and ultimately to create the first empire within the Wood itself.

The Ravens, some amongst them the greatest thinkers, philosophers, intellectuals, scholars and academics of the age such as Ravocrates, Ravlato and Ravistotle, established new ways of thinking and understanding the world, new sciences, new methods of governance that enabled them to work together effectively, whilst others like Ravthagorus and Ravclid, established new methods of mathematics and calculation and measurement that would enable them to construct monumental nests and temples along the rocky cliff-tops. They worshipped a complex pantheon of gods and goddesses, each of whom required veneration in order to ensure success in love, war, harvests, etc.

With this new-found unity, the Ravens became stronger—the sum total being greater than their combined individual parts. This in turn facilitated additional freedom and time to devote to the advancement and betterment of their species. Great works of architecture, legendary tales and intellectual pastimes were all devised and created that would last for thousands of years and come to stand as examples of the very quintessential pinnacle of their respective fields, a benchmark to which other animals would eternally aspire.

One Raven in particular stood above his species. With this new liberal-mindedness and explosion of ideas came, inevitably, a sense of superiority. As their neighbours, especially those from across the Sea to the east who had in a way inspired the Ravens, looked on at their burgeoning power and influence, they perhaps became aware of their growing dominance. The Ravens had created a redoubtable army, equipped with the most advanced weaponry of the time and led by a bird of singularly brilliant military prowess. Under this great leader the Ravens forged a vast, formidable empire, the greatest the world had ever seen, stretching from the south-eastern end of the Wood far eastwards to remote and distant lands populated by many different species of animal not indigenous to the valley. This bird’s name was Ravexander, and his conquests and military genius became so enormous and legendary that he was furnished with the soubriquet The Great.

Ravexander’s empire was to span from the edge of the known world to distant lands far, far to the east of the Wood.² Being more southerly inclined, the Ravens were more interested in the lands around the Sea and the plethora of small islands that lay off their coast than with the forests of Willowbrook Wood itself. But their culture, their art and science and their beliefs and ideologies were to have a far-reaching and long-lasting influence throughout the Wood long into the future. They would invariably be held up as an example of refined sophistication and intellect long after their dominance and influence had faded. They were regarded as an example to the other animals, none more so than the ones who were to end the Ravens’ dominance and usher in a greater, even more powerful, all-conquering empire of their own.

The Swallows who nested in the tall coniferous pine and fir trees in the south of the Wood had grown envious of their winged cousins. They watched as the Ravens dominated the trade around the Sea and grew rich and prosperous. They absorbed their new ideas and thinking, and, with great philosophers, intellectuals and leaders of their own, fashioned their own system of beliefs, their own laws, their own panegyrised Gods and Goddesses. Whereas the Ravens’ strength lay in their democratic values and higher thinking, the Swallows would base their strength on military might and organisation and ruthless administrative efficiency. Any animal who failed to succumb voluntarily to their dominance was forced to do so by the sheer force and brute strength of their formidable army with its organised legions of warrior birds. Those animals who deigned to resist were crushed and annihilated. In their prime, the Swallows were to become an almost irresistible force.

This is not to say that the Swallows were merely a military force. Far from it. They were highly organised and efficient bureaucrats too, creating an effective legal system and instituting laws with which to maintain order and administer justice throughout their far-flung empire. Laws which remain the bedrock of modern laws today. They set in place highly efficient systems with which to raise taxes to pay for the construction of their great cities and immense engineering projects and to finance their mighty armies that would smash their way through the Wood, defeating their opponents and claiming new territories, new subjects, new power and influence for themselves. They were also great builders and artists and intellectuals, building upon and furthering the advancements of the Ravens.

In order to facilitate the trade which funded the inexorable expansion of their ever-burgeoning empire and to expedite the movement of armies and slaves throughout their vast domain, they built pathways throughout the Wood, founded towns and cities and trading posts, and created and installed complex networks of loyal civil servants who ensured that laws were adhered to, taxes collected, and that the wheels of justice and progress were kept perpetually in motion.

One great Swallow in particular distinguished himself and did much to extend their influence and control through his military genius and strategic cunning and ruthlessness. Under his generalship the boundaries of the territory controlled by the Swallows were pushed ever further forward in all directions. Northwards into the dense coniferous forests, south across the Sea to the shores of the distant dry and arid lands, from the eastern realms of the Sea to the Ocean in the west. The Swallows methodically and systematically extended their dominance and influence throughout the Wood conquering all those who stood in their way. This great bird’s name was Swalius Caesar and his armies were to sweep through Willowbrook Wood as far north as the lands of the Badgers and Weasels and even as far as the land of the Foxes across the Stream in the west, species viewed by the refined and cultured Swallows as primitive, barbaric and savage.

Swalius Caesar and his Swallow legions would come to subjugate almost the entire southern regions of the Wood, stretching from the lands of the Mice, Partridges and Squirrels in the west, to the fringes of the Wild Wood and the Ravens’ rocky cliffs in the east, as well as the northern coast of the dry distant lands to the south across the Sea. All were to pay allegiance and bow down to the glory of this great general and leader. But even the great Swallow himself was unable to subdue the primitive, tribalistic animals deep in the deciduous heartlands of the Wood. Eventually, upon returning to the pine tree forests of Swalloland to rule as king in all but name, he would be surreptitiously dispatched at the wings of his own species, who viewed him as a threat to the democratic republic that the Swallows had built. But his legacy and the empire that he had helped forge would live on long after his departure.

Such was his grandeur and supremacy that his name would be given to the subsequent Swallows who ruled their empire and who would go on to subdue the Foxes in the north and extend their influence to lands further to the east of the Wood, though the uncivilised, feral Badgers in the north would forever remain persistently resistant to their domination and beyond their mastery and control. His long-lasting and enduring influence would also see his name given to the rulers of the Badgers’ and Wolves’ empires far, far in the future.

In order to govern these vast, disparate lands and species, the Swallows created systems of governance and laws and combined these with garrisoned regiments of well-organised avian soldiers. However, there were many uprisings by the animals who now found themselves under the control of, and forced to pay homage to, a foreign species. But these insurrections, such as one led be a Fox named Foxica who destroyed Swallow townships throughout the land of the Foxes and ransacked Swallow settlements that had been set up throughout her neck of the Woods in revenge for the brutal subjugation she and her cubs had endured at the wings of their Swallow subjugators, were soon crushed. Not even the vengeful fury of animals like Foxica was a match for the might of the Swallow Empire.

But, as already alluded to, it wasn’t simply a matter of using brutal, merciless strength that was to ultimately see the endurance of this great empire. Under their first, and greatest, emperor, Swagustus³, the Swallows, for several centuries, were to rule, like the Ravens before them, not only due to their military prowess, but due to the enduring power of their culture and beliefs, their laws and systems of governance. It wasn’t just that the Swallows set up towns and administered discipline throughout their far-flung dominions, it was due to the fact that their towns and cities were like no other seen before by the other primitive, pagan animals of the Wood. In their towns, great spectacles were lavishly held for the benefit and entertainment of the public in vast stadiums that towered over their surroundings inspiring awe and wonder.

Of course, as is predominantly the case, it was the ruling elite who benefited the most. But now, for many of the animals in Willowbrook Wood, the workers, the tradesmen and craftsmen, the artisans, the labourers, they too could enjoy the benefits of an improvement to their way of life as part of the vast Swallow Empire. Trade within the extensive empire had opened up the door to all sorts of foods and items that heretofore had been unknown in the Wood. The elaborate and extravagant public games and spectacles that took place in huge, specially constructed arenas, thrilled the animals as they beheld all sorts of weird and wonderful creatures from the distant corners of their realms. They marvelled at huge trumpeting elephants, they gazed in awe at ferocious, bloodthirsty lions, and gaped in disbelief at pre-historic, savage crocodiles, animals the likes of which, to the indigenous Foxes and Squirrels and Mice of the Wood, were beyond their wildest imaginations.

The Swallows’ empire, like the Ravens’ before them, was to have a long-lasting and enduring influence on Willowbrook Wood. Its architecture, its art, its spectacles and culture were to reverberate through time into the present day. Throughout their vast empire over the following two centuries the Pax Swallana would typify the relative peace, civilisation and efficient, centralised government that characterised their rule. In-fighting and civil wars would eventually put an end to this period of relative harmony, prosperity and advancement. But it was perhaps something that originated as somewhat of a thorn in the Swallows’ side, which they would not only come to embrace but become the custodians of, which would ultimately have perhaps the biggest impact upon the lives of the animals of Willowbrook Wood.

Religion had, for time immemorial, played a key role in the simple lives of the simple animals of the Wood. Each of the various species worshipped some god or other, some divine deity whom it was thought in some way affected their fortunes and held sway over their lives. Squirrels prayed to the god of nuts, Rabbits to the god of carrots, Mice to the god of crops and harvests, Moles to the goddess of worms, and so on and so forth. Indeed, the worship of such divine spirits had pre-dated the Swallows’ or even the Ravens’ civilisations, dating back many years to when the ancient, primitive, pagan animals of the Wood, with their rudimentary knowledge and understanding of the world, failed to comprehend how food could be plentiful one year and scarce or abundant the next, or how storms and floods and droughts and earthquakes could affect them seemingly indiscriminately, as if being due to the whims and caprices of some sort of unseen, omnipresent, omnipotent being who required supplication in order to determine the outcome over which he or she presided.

The superstitiously pagan animals of the Wood had always worshipped their gods and goddesses in one way or another, whether it be through the building of shrines and temples, the consecrating of sacred stones, or the offerings of appeasement and supplication. The Ravens and the Swallows had raised their gods to hitherto unforeseen heights, creating legendary tales and myths to explain their origins. These legends became embedded in the folklore of their species, emblematic of their divine right of dominance. Worship of the Raven and Swallow deities would result in the construction of temples and monuments that would be the example to, and envy of, the whole world.

However, even all this grandeur and religious idolatry would not be enough to stem the flow of theological spiritualism that was to emanate from the Swallows’ attempts to persecute and suppress the teachings of one animal in a land far to the east of the Wood, across the Sea. This new religion was based on the teachings of a Dove who, it was claimed, was the son of God who had descended from heaven to teach the word of the one true religion. This religion would become known, after the prophet, as Dovianity. The Dove preached love and forgiveness and taught that there was but one God responsible for everything in the world and that all other Gods were false, contrary to the Swallows’ complex and varied pantheonic beliefs at the time.

Soon, the prophet’s word had spread throughout the lands of the Swallows’ empire and animals were converting to this new divine faith. The Swallows acted quickly and brutally to repress these new and dangerous theological ideas which were incongruous to their own spiritual beliefs. The Dove was put to death, crucified by the Swallows for his religious ideology in an attempt to curtail the spread of Dovianity. But it was to no avail. When word of the Dove’s miraculous resurrection was learned his teachings and the word of God spread like wildfire throughout the Wood and took hold amongst many of the animals.

The new Cothalic religion of Dovianity, its name deriving from the Ravens’ word for universal, soon grew strong as devout believers and missionaries travelled throughout the Wood spreading the word of the Dove and converting the non-believers to the new faith. It wasn’t long until even the rulers of the various animal kingdoms were themselves enthusiastically renouncing their previous pagan Gods and converting to Dovianity. By the fourth century, the Swallow Empire had become so vast, encompassing, as it did, most of the land around the great Sea and most of the southern part of the Wood, that the administration and governance of such a large territory and so many diverse species (Swallows, Mice, Partridges, Squirrels, Foxes, Wild Animals⁴, Ravens, Crows, Robins, Magpies and Blackbirds) was becoming increasingly difficult.

Their huge empire had begun to crumble as it was having to constantly quell rebellions amongst its subjects whilst at the same time defending its borders against rival empires to the east, not to mention having to contain the spread of Dovianity within its own realms. In the year 313⁵, after three centuries of brutal suppression of the Dovian faith, the Swallow emperor Swalstantine the Great took the monumental, albeit by that time somewhat inevitable, decision to finally legalise Dovianity and to end the persecution of Dovians (who, amongst other injustices, had been fed to lions or other wild beasts as part of lavish public spectacles). By this time, the Swallow Empire had become so vast and unmanageable as to be undertaken by a single all-powerful emperor. In an effort to halt the decline it was decided, around the end of the third century, that the empire should be split into its eastern and western constituents⁶, each with its own emperor and its own capital.

By the end of the fourth century, this division would become permanent. In 330, Swalstantine founded the capital of the eastern empire amongst the cypress, yew and fir trees of the land of the Magpies⁷ which straddled the estuary where the Willow Brook flowed out into the vast Sea at the south-eastern edge of the valley, thus establishing the Eastern Swallow Empire, which, being in Magpieland, in time became known as the Magzantine⁸ Empire, and which would go on to long outlive its western counterpart. Around the year 380 eventually the Swallows, who had been so vehemently opposed to the new religious belief and who had for centuries persecuted and crucified its followers (turning them into martyrs and saints in the process), finally, and with surprisingly great vigour, converted to Dovianity themselves, and the seat of the Cothalic religion was henceforth proclaimed to reside in the Holy City in the very heart of Swalloland itself, ruled by a Pontiff by way of election who was predominantly, but not exclusively, a Swallow himself. It was seemingly a case of if you can’t beat them, join them, but instead of merely joining them, the Swallows had gone on to arrogate them.

It was around this time also that the little flock of Sparrows who nested amongst the same pines and firs of the Swallows gained their independence. The tiny republic of little chirping, plump birds with their grey-brown plumage and little conical black beaks continue to maintain their autonomy to the present day. However, we digress. These Pontiffs, the rulers of the Cothalic church, although no rulers of land or animals, ruled over something much more valuable—the animals’ minds and souls. As such they were to become immensely powerful and rich and would go on to play a defining role in many of the issues of Willowbrook Wood, and even to command armies and pronounce on the rule of animal kings and kingdoms themselves.

The heart of the new Dovian religion, like all beliefs, played on the superstitiousness of the simple-minded animals of the Wood and their fear of being condemned to a world of suffering, or, even worse, inadmittance to heaven, after death. The animals of the Wood, pious and simple-natured as they were, religiously adhered to their new beliefs. Long after the Swallow Empire had collapsed the Cothalic church, which had been temporarily relocated to the cypress forests of Magpieland during these tumultuous times, endured and grew stronger as its clerics travelled throughout the Wood preaching and converting the animals in ever increasing numbers. Even the fiercely pagan animals in the north of the Wood, whom the Swallows had viewed as primitive, barbaric heathens, the Deer, the Voles, Rabbits, Weasels and Badgers, would in time convert to the new religion.

Indeed, somewhat ironically, just as Dovianity had been taken up and propagated by the very animals who had tried so hard to suppress it in the first place, it was some of the least likely animals to embrace the new religion due to their pagan, primitive beliefs, who would go on to become some of the most staunch, ardent believers and defenders of the faith—the Badgers and Weasels. So much so, in fact, that in centuries to come the rulers of those lands, located deep in the heart of the deciduous Wood, would be anointed as Holy Emperors of the Cothalic faith, and would wield not only great military power, but also divine might throughout Willowbrook Wood. These religious beliefs and practices would remain largely unchallenged and accepted for one and a half thousand years, until a great change took place, incidentally also in the land of the Badgers. But we shall no doubt get to all that later in our tale.

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¹ These two societies were early proto-Raven civilisations which had both died out around 3100 years ago.↩︎

² Ravexander, a student of Ravistotle, died at the young age of 32, making his empirical conquests, occurring when he was only in his early 20s, all the more remarkable.↩︎

³ Swalius Caesar had been assassinated because he had grown to be so powerful through his military exploits and conquests that he was considered a threat to the democratic Swallow Republic. His death led to years of civil war as Swallows vied for power and as his adopted son, Swaltavian, pursued and defeated the birds responsible for his murder. Upon avenging Swalius Caesar’s death, with all his political and military opposition now eliminated, and with the Swallows wanting to put an end to the civil wars that had divided their neck of the woods, Swaltavian was proclaimed their first Emperor, and ruled as Swagustus.↩︎

⁴ The species designated as ‘Wild Animals’ were labelled so due to their inhabitation of the Wild Wood. There were in fact six different species of animals in these wild, untamed parts, including Rats, Ferrets, Mink, Polecats, Pine Martens and Wildcats, though centuries of cross-breeding had led to many mixed-breeds and mutations.↩︎

⁵ The passing and marking of time had been established by the animals of Willowbrook Wood to be based on the new religion of Dovianity that had by this time begun to proliferate throughout the Wood. Therefore, to say, the year 313 was three hundred and thirteen years subsequent to the birth of the Dove whose preaching and prophesies had initiated the founding of the new spiritual belief↩︎

⁶ The Swallow Empire was actually split into four constituents, such was its vast size, being ruled by a tetrarchy of four emperors, although two were more senior, one in the east and one in the west. This fragmentation of the empire occurred under the reign of Swalocletian, who, along with Swalaximian, led the first tetrarchy between 293–305. The tetrarchy system was eventually abandoned in 324 under the rule of Swalstantine the Great, the empire subsequently being ruled by just two emperors, one in the east and one in the west.↩︎

⁷ The Magpies are therefore notionally considered as being half-in and half-out of Willowbrook Wood.↩︎

⁸ Its name deriving from the city of Magzantium upon which it was centred.↩︎

Chapter III

The Dark Age

Perhaps it was the contrast to the intense iridescence of the illuminated times which shone so brightly during the preceding millennium of Raven and Swallow domination, but upon the extinguishing of the latter of these two great empires the whole of Willowbrook Wood was plunged, or perhaps more accurately, gradually receded, into a period of stagnation and decline that would last for several centuries. That is not to say that these succeeding centuries were necessarily moribund or obscure. The sun still shone as brightly as before, the birds still sang in the trees, but in terms of the vast strides of progress and amelioration that had hitherto swept through the various necks of the Wood over the past one thousand years, the period would appear gloomy, overcast and morose. Dark.

The transformation, or gradual deceleration, and in some aspects reverse, began to occur around the year 410. There had been previous signs, earlier indications of the troubles that were to come. The Swallows, pushing the frontiers of their enormous empire ever further northwards and eastwards (their influence and control having already reached an ocean in the west and a desert in the south, therefore offering no further opportunity for conquest in either of those directions), came into contact with animals who proved frustratingly aloof, indifferent and resistant to their desire for empirical expansion. It was to the north where the irresistible force met the proverbial immovable object.

The deciduous lands of the Badgers, Weasels, Stoats and Thrush, deep in the heart of the forest, home of barbaric, primitive, and to the Swallows, uncultured races, as yet untamed by civilisation, had not only by this time halted the spread of the Swallows’ ever-burgeoning domination, but had also begun to strike back at their would-be subjugators. Enticed by the untold riches of the Swallows’ lands, and becoming increasingly more organised and united, the barbaric animals began to strike deeper and deeper into the Swallows’ empire.

The Swallows’ vast empire, you will recall, had, by the fourth century, been split into two constituents, each with its own emperor, one in the west, in the traditional land of the Swallows, and another in the east, in what is today the land of the Magpies, but was, at that time, part of the Swallow Empire. Over time the eastern part of this realm had become stronger as barbaric raiders gradually weakened its richer western counterpart. The eastern portion of the Swallow Empire based in Magpieland, which, as mentioned, was known as the Magzantine Empire, consisted predominantly of lands to the east of the Wood and to the south across the Sea and was to survive for another thousand years (though in a much altered form), whilst the western part of the empire, which included the southern lands of the Wood stretching from the lands of the Partridges in the west all the way to the primordial Wild Wood, would be overrun and ultimately collapse. (In the sixth century, the great eastern emperor Magstinian would briefly attempt to reconquer the western realms and reunite both halves of the Swallow Empire, instigating a brief revival of the Swallows’ empirical dominance and propagating new laws, but it would not last.)

However, in the fateful year of 410, one such raid into the western part of the Swallow Empire, led by a powerful leader known as Thrusharic the Thrush who came from the tall coniferous trees in what is roughly now Thrushland⁹, struck right at the very heart of the Swallows’ western empire itself. The barbaric invading Thrush ransacked, looted and pillaged for many days and nights, destroying temples and monuments and setting the city ablaze. It would prove to be the death knell of the western Swallow Empire. The extinguishing of the eternal flame. Other savage raiders such as Stoatila the Stoat¹⁰ similarly struck at the Swallows’ eastern realms. The Swallow Empire, the greatest and most powerful empire the world had ever seen, teetered on the precipice of oblivion, until in the year 476 it finally collapsed.¹¹

Centuries of progress, understanding and enlightenment, albeit to some extent imposed rather than requested, suddenly ground to a halt throughout the Wood as the well-oiled machine that was the Swallow Empire came crashing down in the west. Whether their empire collapsed or whether it merely began to transform as it was besieged by nomadic invading tribes from the north is a point of contention. But what is certain is that the animals, throughout the forest, began to revert back to their own rule and their old ways. Previous customs, practices and systems were re-introduced and re-imposed. The animals, left to fend for themselves, relapsed back into their traditional habits as the vacuum left by the disappearance of the Swallows’ authoritarian administration receded from their lands. The vast strides which had been made, the brutal efficiency, the developments in the arts and sciences, in architecture, literature, philosophy, were seemingly forgotten.

This period of comparative obscurity which now swept through the Wood following the collapse of the western Swallow Empire would last for several centuries and give rise to a new feudal system of governance throughout the various necks of the Wood. The animals were to become preoccupied primarily with gaining control of and attempting to unite their own lands. This feudal system soon began to take shape as powerful, wealthy animals vied for dominance in their respective necks of the Wood. Strongholds and forts were constructed by the ruling class in order to bolster their might and subjugate their subjects. Foxes fought with Foxes. Badgers battled with Badgers. Squirrels squabbled with Squirrels. Weasels warred with Weasels. During this time certain families were to rise in prominence as they subdued their adversaries and gained greater influence and control over their kin.

As if to compound the backward steps that the animals of the Wood had seemed to have taken in respect to the progress in the Wood over the preceding centuries of Swallow rule, in the middle of the sixth century a great plague arose in the eastern lands of the Swallow Empire ruled by the great Emperor Magstinian, which, as you will recall, had remained fairly intact whilst its western counterpart had unravelled. The plague, known as the Plague of Magstinian, soon spread throughout the Wood and indeed most of the known world killing tens of millions of animals and reducing the population of the Wood by perhaps as much as fifty per cent.¹² If times were hard for the animals, they had seemingly become a lot harder.

For those animals fortunate enough to survive this great plague, if war and fighting weren’t sufficient to gain military and political dominance, strategic alliances and marriages were resorted to. All throughout the Wood developments in science and art and thinking made way to the struggle to claim the crowns of the various lands. Kings and queens began to unite their previously disparate, loosely connected tribes into single domains. There were at this time two clearly distinct categories of animal—the ruling, of whom there were decidedly few, although exceedingly wealthy, and the ruled, who accounted for practically the whole of the population and who were obliged to pay homage to their nominal overlords.

Several powerful lands dominated the Wood during this period. The eastern Magzantine Empire held sway over the south-eastern lands of the Wood, although the Robins would, towards the end of the seventh century, rise to be their main rivals in these easterly regions populated with firs and cypresses.¹³ Whilst in the west the Squirrels, Badgers, Foxes and Mice would begin to forge their own identities out of the remnants of the Swallows’ western empire. This was a time of near constant bickering and fighting. Groups of animals formed alliances against others. Alliances changed. Allegiances shifted. Deals were made. Then broken. Wars and battles became commonplace and an accepted part of life. The common animals were called upon to pay service in battle to their chief or their king on whose land they dwelt. In return for their service, they could expect protection from rival rulers or foreign invaders. The Wood often during this time reverberated with the snarls, shrieks, growls and squawks of almost incessant battle.

But far from being a totally negative thing, of which wars predominantly and undoubtedly are, all this conflict and struggle, this striving for a common purpose, in some way helped to begin forming the animals’ individual national identities. During these feudal times the animals’ collective exertions and triumphs helped to create a sense of pride in their species. A feeling of unity and togetherness. You might well say that a Fox is a Fox, or a Mole is a Mole, or a Deer is a Deer, but to all the animals of the Wood there was previously little unity or coercion that united them amongst their species. A Badger from the north of what we now know today as Badgerland was every bit as foreign to a Badger from the south as a Squirrel or a Duck. Simply because they were both Badgers and spoke a similar language had hitherto counted for very little. But over the course of these dark centuries, out of all this chaos and confusion and conflict, sprouted the first shoots of nations.

Through victories and defeats animal characteristics were reinforced and territorial borders became more firmly established. The animals were still some way off becoming the unified nations and species that we know today, but it was as a result of all this turmoil and fighting that we are able to say today that a Mouse is a Mouse, or a Robin a Robin, and to know what kind of animal they are. Indeed it was during these darker ages in the Wood’s history that the name Willowbrook Wood was used for the first time¹⁴ to refer to the forests and surrounding fields within the valley. Just as the animals of the Wood were forging their own identities, so too was their habitation.

During all this time one thing did, however, remain constant. Religion. Throughout this bleak period missionaries from the Cothalic church were still travelling far and wide to all corners of the Wood to spread the word of God and the teachings of the Dove. Whilst individual animal kingdoms argued and fought amongst each other, the leaders of the Cothalic Dovian faith were able to grow rich and powerful, wielding immense influence and power over the thoughts, minds and souls of their superstitious subjects. So powerful, in fact, that the Cothalic church became, in a way, stronger than any of the animals in the whole of Willowbrook Wood. The capital of the Swallow Empire had, you will recall, been moved to the land of the Magpies in the fourth century by Swalstantine the Great, who had himself converted to Dovianity, the empire subsequently adopting it as its official religion a little later. After the fall of the Swallow Empire, its western regions, centred on the pine and fir trees of Swalloland, had been overrun with various invaders from the north and central parts of the Wood, whilst its eastern regions, the Magzantine Empire located around the southern banks of the Willow Brook, remained relatively unscathed.

It was around this time, in the seventh century, in the year 622 to be precise, that another prophet in lands far to the east of the Wood, a Nightingale, was to found a new religion based on a different god, who, it was proclaimed, was the one true God. The Nightingale’s preaching gave birth to the Aslimic religion, an ideological creed antithetical to the Cothalic Dovian faith, its name deriving from the words for acceptance and submission, two key facets of their ideological beliefs. The two opposing religions, Cothalicism and Aslim, from that day forth, would perpetually attempt to predicate their dominance over one another as their missionaries traversed the globe preaching and converting and establishing new churches from which to promulgate the spread of their respective beliefs. It certainly didn’t help matters that both religions claimed the same Holy Land to the east of the Wood as their own spiritual birthplace, a contentious issue which would lead to endless disagreement and conflict between the two faiths.

The animals, not just of the Wood, but of the whole world, would flock to these two powerful creeds (and we don’t simply refer to the avian species) as they attempted to discredit one another and claim the title of the one true religion. By this time, the Cothalic Dovian church could already lay claim to large parts of Willowbrook Wood as it continued to spread northwards and westwards. The growth and subsequent spread of the religion of Aslim in the east would henceforth lead to enduring discord between the two religions, particularly in the south-eastern corner of the Wood that still exists to this very day.

By the year 800, one animal who ruled over a vast, immense area of land encompassing the entire centre of the Wood in what is now roughly the combined lands of the Badgers, Squirrels, Otters, Moles, Hedgehogs, Ducks, Weasels, Stoats, Hares and half of the land of the Swallows, was to be anointed as Holy Emperor, defender of the Cothalic faith, in reciprocation for helping the Pontiff with a problem he was having with some of the northern Swallows. The Cothalic Holy Empire, founded under this great animal’s rule, would go on to play a key role in the Wood for the next one thousand years. This animal, who himself would be influential in defining the future of Willowbrook Wood, was named Badgermagne.

Badgermagne can in some sense be considered somewhat of a father of Willowbrook Wood. Under his reign as Holy Emperor, sanctioned and ordained by the Cothalic church and thus by God himself, the great and ancient lands of the Squirrels and Badgers as well as the entirety of the other central deciduous regions of the forest would be united as one single kingdom due to his immense foresight and political and military brilliance. His kingdom, consisting of so many different and diverse species, of course would not last, but the subsequent Holy Emperors of the Cothalic church would, over the course of the Wood’s history, wield much influence and power throughout the deciduous and coniferous heartlands of the forest and the surrounding meadows and pastures, and would play a leading role in determining the fate of the Wood and the animals who dwelt within its realms.

Not long after his death, Badgermagne’s vast empire was eventually split amongst his heirs and the great necks of the Wood which we know today began to take shape. The western third of his great realm, encompassing the towering pine and fir tree forests in the west of the valley, would eventually evolve to become the lands of the Squirrels. The central third, in what roughly today stretches from the land of the Otters down to the northern parts of the lands of the Swallows, would become the traditional heartland of the Holy Empire. Whilst the eastern third encompassed what is roughly today the northern parts of the lands of the Badgers and Weasels. But all this, of course, was far in the future and still yet to come.