Tag: freedom

There once was a land, a far away place, where a small people lived in small houses. They had learned to live in silence, for silence was their legacy from the Darkness that had retreated from their land. They had lived through the dark and darkest days and had survived, and now were toiling away in silence, accepting their fate. They were blessed however, with fertile land, and underneath this land, they found many precious artifacts buried, artifacts that were easily shattered and broken if not handled with care. The small people learnt day by day to dig up these artifacts carefully with small shovels and small wheelbarrows, making sure to only use the small tracks they knew, for they did not know where other artifacts may lay, and there were places where the Darkness still lingered.

So they learnt, carefully, and did their best to tend to and put together the artifacts with care. Some stayed together, others fell apart repeatedly, and yet others were no more than ground dust, and those the small people buried in their small graves.  However, with every passing day, more and more artifacts were put together, and both young and old knew that one day these artifacts would lead to wealth and prosperity. It would be a day far away, but that day would come, and so they toiled away.

Then, one day, a runner came, and proclaimed that there was a loud cry among the other kingdoms and realms. It was found that the Lord of the Dark had lost his most precious gem, and it was said that gem was needed to defeat his armies. The small people listened and trembled for they knew that hard merciless stone, and knew the Lord of the Dark had many like it. He cast away one and put on another, and many were scattered beyond the small pathways they would not leave. Yet the cry was loud among the other kingdoms and realms, and scouts and men were sent out to find this gem, for the cry was great to find this lost thing, and the small people could do nothing to sooth the loud cry to silence.

And so the day came, and the machines rolled down the small people’s tracks, destroying the pathways and the artifacts underneath. Trees were hewn and soil dug up, dynamite was stuck into holes, blowing up the land wide. And the small people stood aside and watched in horror and dismay as the precious artifacts were flung into the air and shattered. And many cried, for it was to them as if the Darkness had returned again. And there were some among them who lost all hope and understood why the Lord of the Dark said there was no hope, only the Darkness beyond. And they ran and fled into the Darkness and were never seen again, except in nightmares that lurked in the night.

© 2014 threegoodwords