A Gathering
'One day will come when your children will be gathering under this tree, and they will not know what has happened here if nobody would tell them - not by the markings on the bast, nor by the scourged earth they will find underneath it. The split husk won't likely give that away, because at their age trees are different from everything. Will they would not like to hear how that happened and why the tree is still growing? Maybe the childrens will think, it is a magical tree, and that it has magical powers which keeps it alive while no grass dares to grow here, and even so, they could think the tree could be walking at nights, searching for bad kids. 'Wouldn't a child be asking if the tree could do it any harm? And that is where we land on the subject of the misconception that what ever is unexplainable, unevitably would try to kill them just because they think they are normal, or they hope to be. That is when the problem actually starts. Because, somewhere in their lives the children will grow up, and find themselves gifted with new talents, which sets them out of the mass around them, and wouldn't they reflect the tree to themselves? The tree is bad because it would try to kill me, if it has the chance would be hastely added, so when I am different, I will be bad too? I happen to think this could leave a scar.
'So what is my point? Tell what happened to the tree! Then they won't think of something themselves. I am not saying it is not good when a child thinks, I am saying it should be thinking about the nature of things, and never, EVER, assume something.
'You know, I happen to think that a lot of bad things have happened in history, because parents did not gave a solid explanation to their kids. Why? Because then they are easier to handle? Keeps them busy? From not asking any other stupid question? What happened to the tree? Lightning struck it. What is lightning? Big flashy thing in the sky at night. Oh the scary thing? Yes the scary thing. Could the lightning do that to me too? Yes it could. They think about that, later about the tree still living.
'And now my fellow people, they actually learned something. Is that so difficult? Likely it is, and that is why I, John Muslich, came here today, to tell you, it is allright to tell the truth to your kids! Do not forget that……..'
Suddenly the speech ended abruptly, John Muslich dresses in his fine speeching clothes, the doctor with the answer to anything everywhere, found himself speechless. The crowd, used to the rambling of a somewhat eccentric member of their society, found itself watching at an unusual sight: Muslich the loudmouth, the Towncryer of Good Morals as he likes to call himself, was standing, wide-eyed, looking at something just outside the crowd that had gathered around him on Dixie-Square. The torches hanging on the tree beside him gave but sparse light to it, as the men and women of the crowd were closely packed on their speaker, others that tried to see what he was seeing noticed they lacked the small podium that Mulich was standing on that enable him to see just pass the heads and shoulders.
John Mulich found himself staring at a pair of cold blue eyes, not the deep blue that was frequent in these parts of the land, but the chilling iced glance of pure coldness. Dazzled he could not help but maze into a world of frost and snow, that seemed to be streaming out of those eyes. He realised the eyes were looking backand a shudder went through his body as if the cold had reached him simply by looking at him. It told him the eyes had an owner, the owner had a name, the name is Annuschka.