Sometimes, when things look too good to be true .....

A Cautionary Tale

Imagine teachers. Bright, and shining forth with an inner light. Music and laughter, a place where darkness and despair could surely never enter. Imagine students, devoted, suffused with love, wishing they had swords to swear their loyalty upon.

Honesty, they are told - always honesty here. Growth - only fools hide from their own errors. Only the lesser cannot learn from their experience.

In this bliss, there are old tales of a past that surely need concern none here. Old times, when things hurt and there was harshness and betrayal. Those who teach, sitting in the center of the circle, admit a single mistake; a single bitter note among the songs of beauty. They trusted, they loved, they gave "too much".

A subtle thing, that sourness. Surely it is not important. People so fair that the fey tease them. A group so lovingly connected they share dreams and visions, that thought of someday leaving is cause for tears. They are too good to have any ill within them. They would not, could not - what?

What is it that is not said here? Are not we all, mortal and fey, subject to error and able to learn and correct ourselves? And such pain - which the oft-told tales depict as cyclical - Is there really nothing that the shining ones can do differently?

New, eager to learn, to grow, to serve, to stretch and learn from the stretching of others, the students wonder aloud; could there have been - mistakes?

Brows furrow, eyes narrow. How could any dare to question here? In the midst of all this light, how could shadows such as those go unseen? The pattern shifts slightly, and the ones who questioned are ... noted.

Time passes, the light shines. And then the earth shifts and pain comes. From another circle outside. The shining leaders weep, unable to fix this new wound. All around the circle tightens, supporting, loving. Still, pain comes, and finally one leader, faces the sky, tears streaming, and speaks:

"What is happening? What can I do?"

The circle tightens, supporting, loving.

A time of weeping and then again the leader speaks - commanding the very sky to yeild it's secrets: "Tell me, I want to know the truth!"

Two sets of eyes meet each other. An answer has been asked for. An answer they have. Or so they think. Can love and loyalty be served by keeping silent? ..... perhaps not.

Two questions. Two answers. "You have caused pain, and it festers." "You can apologize and love."

As well pour petrol on open flame; eyes that once held tears are host to blades that dwarf mere swords. The circle tightens, the questions begin. The circle tightens, supporting, loving. Brows furrow, eyes narrow. The ones who spoke are ... noted.

A decision reached: this wound, brought by another circle, it cannot be fixed. The leaders of the shining circle are in pain. Once again they have trusted , loved and given ... too much.

Two pairs of eyes meet. The shadow is seen. Loyalty here was not served by speaking, and for those impulsive, well-meant but wrongly spoken words, the price will be paid. But we spoke the truth. What is truth? Perhaps we do not know.

The circle tightens, supporting, loving. There is no darkness here. How could there be?

I can think of nothing more poisonous than to rot in the stink of your own reflections.
-As said by Lady Jessica in Dune Messiah by Frank Herbert

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