Rictictik
the teacher guided her charges into the temporary school arena. Although they were still
very young, her students were old enough to know of the dangers that once resided
here; but all seemed quiet, there was none of the sounds of industry that used
to resound though the murk. Above them the sun shone bright; all around was
warm and clear.
“Now,
are we all here?” the teacher asked in her usually clicking and whistling
manner. “Twillin! Whatever you are playing with; drop it now and concentrate.”
Twillin
looked around sheepishly and let his toy drop to the floor, much to the amusement
of his fellow students.
The
teacher continued. “Now then class, I should warn you that the lesson today is
very upsetting. It deals with how those who should have been our brothers were taken
from us by a terrible madness that infected them. We tried to cure them, over
the long centuries we showed by example that there was another way...” The
teacher stopped her lesson as one of the students signalled that she wished to
speak. “Yes, Sherniac?”
“I’m
confused Miss,” Sherniac said in concern, “You called them brothers, but my
father says they were an evil race, intent on destruction, poisoning the lands
above and the waters around and below.”
The
teacher smiled at Sherniac but her eyes were full of sadness. “Not all were
evil, some knew the ways of stewardship but the madness was rife and dominated
their world- view. It was primarily a mental disease that was self-perpetuating
and ensured that it was the driving force in the development of their kind. It
is easy for us to think of them as the embodiment of evil due to their
atrocities against us and others; but our suffering was as nothing to what they
inflicted upon each other.”
The
teacher shook her head. “It all started so well. They were chosen to be
stewards of the lands as they were children of the forest and must have shown promise,
as we did, to the great navigator of destiny beyond the stars. Like us they had self-awareness of their
mortality and the altruistic qualities of love, mercy and pity. The trees in
the forests were their nursery and it gave them everything, food and shelter,
and later as they developed, tools, building materials and even fire for
warmth. Yet somehow the infection got embedded, their spirituality and quest
for knowledge changed from a love of the world into a lust for dominion; over
each other and their surroundings. In their arrogance they made gods in their
own image and in their madness fought and killed each other over such pointless
trivialities. They left the forests behind, cutting them down and burning them
to make other materials they deemed to be superior; breaking the rocks of the
earth and extracting all they could from them. They lost their sense of the
world, lost sight of the great magnetic channels by which the living planet
talks to all. It couldn’t go on. We knew the danger, and implored our brothers
to change. Many of our forebears would sacrifice themselves in a last ditch
attempt to communicate but they were never understood; indeed some were
butchered and eaten by them.”
The
students shuddered and cried out, suddenly wary anew of their surroundings.
“Thinking
they understood all, they endeavoured to challenge the knowledge of the great
navigator herself. They played at being gods but proved all too mortal.
Forgetting that they were part of nature, failing at stewardship of it, nature
turned its back on them; their crops failed, starvation and disease followed, and
the survivors fought each other for what they could. Now they are virtually
extinct. Let us take a look at what is left of their world.”
The
teacher turned and with a flick of her tail rocketed up to the surface. Her
students did likewise and looked beyond the mother waters onto the land. They
were in a wide basin surrounded by unnatural, crumbling cliffs with many
openings. Already though trees were beginning to grow amid the ruins, turning
green what once was grey.
“As you
can see,” the teacher clicked, “The trees are claiming back the land now. The
irony is that the lost stewards knew the truth in their hearts; they would
nurse their young in cribs of wood and bury their dead in wooden boxes. Such a
shame, it remains to be seen if any survivors learn from the disaster. Come on
now children, let’s go and play in the waves on the way back to your families.
Twillin, don’t forget your toy.”
The
young dolphin dived down to the sandy bottom and retrieved its kelp play thing,
hurrying to re-join the crèche as they left the crumbling harbour for the open
ocean.
