What is this mockery? There are useless children quibbling about on every corner. Though, admittedly, their intelligence level has not significantly decreased from their older state
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Lord Innes, the children are... confused enough as is. Please do not make this situation worse.
Had the same happened to you, would you have believed a stranger who told you that you have been spirited away to Elimine-knows-where, and that your parents are no longer around? Even if not for that, my lord, it does not make our job easier to stir up troubled reactions from the children.
If you understand that we have not the time to take care of this many children when we ourselves still have jobs to do, then please do not make this job harder.
The children seem to be reacting just fine. It seems that it is the adults who have underestimated them. The children have already accepted their parent's disappearance as fact. It seems the only person we are babying--are the adults.
Perhaps that is true, but it seems the children are only calm because they believe that, wherever their parents are, they will come for them, no matter what, even if it may take them a long time. Should they truly believe that their parents will not come, under any circumstances... I fear to see the results.
They will inevitably see that on their own, given enough time. It is worse to leave them in a sweetened lie, for they will have that much more to fall when they do indeed realize it. For that to happen, the results would be clearly catastrophic.
But is it not better for them to see on their own? Time heals wounds, and time also takes the edge off of facts that may hurt. If they... never return to normal, it would be better to allow them to settle down and feel secure, to have a routine and a life here, rather than to hit them with all the harshness of this reality so soon.
Time heals no wounds. It is merely that the fragile human mind chooses to forget about incidents. The pain will never truly fade. To think about the routine they will have is a mockery. And you suggest we build up a fake life for them, and then simply wait for it to shatter? A most cruel, torturous suggestion. However, if they learn about this now, then the life they build will be real.
No, my lord. With all due respect, I believe it is the opposite. Truly, it is our minds that do not forget; and those memories are the scars that remain when the wounds themselves close. Even here, when we remember, we encounter past memories of pain, and we learn once again to live through them, and to let the pain lessen. I do not say that it disappears, my lord, but the pain does fade.
We are building nothing for them, Lord Innes. It is they who build their lives upon the remains of what their former selves wrought. Even should they know the truth, this is the way they must live, if they are to remain here. This life, these routines, are what must be strong, for when their beliefs shatter, this must hold them together. Children in a panic will not think about building lives. They must have remnants of a life here already, that even when they find out the truth, they will know where to get food, and where to sleep; and they will have friends who may yet help them through these times.
What a romantic way to describe past pains. Romantic, but untrue. If pain does fade, it does not fade because of lovely descriptions of scars and memories. Just like humans cannot remember even last week's weather, they will slowly forget the memories as well.
A fake life will hold them together? A life pierced together of adults continuing to lie to them, a life of something they already built and are trying to rebuild? Indeed, children do not think about building lives. The only person who conscientiously builds them are the adults. When their belief shatters, they will have nothing left. They will no longer believe in parents, no longer believe in the adults who lied, no longer believe in their silly routines.
Of course not, my lord. Descriptions do nothing but describe. It would be foolishness to think otherwise. However, I do think there is healing, and not simply forgetfulness. And if we forget, it is the pain that we do, not the events themselves.
It matters not whether they believe in us or not, when the time comes. It is you who said that we are the ones underestimating them. Does that, then, not make you the same? They will need to find out for themselves the truth, not simply have it handed to them by a man they do not know. And when they do, it will be a slow realization, while they are at the same time adjusting to this life.
An odd argument with little merits. If you accuse me of babying them, then you fight against the general opinion of the mass population. Think not that I wish to shirk them of their self-realization trip. But it is inevitable they will end up in an incorrect conclusion. Hand them knowledge? Even I am not so generous to give them such a thing. I gave them an inkling of truth. It is up to them to learn more.
They will not break, Lord Innes. There is strength in them.
My lord, make no mistakes: you are the one throwing accusations; I do no such thing. An incorrect conclusion is not inevitable. They will find the truth in their own time, and more truth, perhaps, than what we can tell them.
Merely because you are a monk does not mean you can hide behind your pious robes. You are indeed throwing accusations, in the thinly-disguised veil of innocence. But this is a useless argument for another time.
Your speculation is sadly lacking. Without even the slightest hint, children--no, humans--are apt to be lead the incorrect way. This is no beautiful story. I am merely giving them the direction of the truth. The blind leading the blind is a harsher way of life.
It is, indeed, useless. My lord Innes, even my patience wears thin. I admit that it is my own fault that I have misjudged you, but it appears you are nothing but a self-righteous fool so wrapped in your own ideas that you would not listen to reason.
Reason, I have not heard. This argument has already gone on long enough.
Before you leave, I wish to inform you one thing. Do not put upon a title upon others just to self-deny yourself. Whether or not I am a Lord, you yourself do not know. Yet you call everybody as a Lady or a Lord, as if you do not understand the burden of those titles. In fact, by that very definition, you would not consider me a Lord.
Had the same happened to you, would you have believed a stranger who told you that you have been spirited away to Elimine-knows-where, and that your parents are no longer around? Even if not for that, my lord, it does not make our job easier to stir up troubled reactions from the children.
If you understand that we have not the time to take care of this many children when we ourselves still have jobs to do, then please do not make this job harder.
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We are building nothing for them, Lord Innes. It is they who build their lives upon the remains of what their former selves wrought. Even should they know the truth, this is the way they must live, if they are to remain here. This life, these routines, are what must be strong, for when their beliefs shatter, this must hold them together. Children in a panic will not think about building lives. They must have remnants of a life here already, that even when they find out the truth, they will know where to get food, and where to sleep; and they will have friends who may yet help them through these times.
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A fake life will hold them together? A life pierced together of adults continuing to lie to them, a life of something they already built and are trying to rebuild? Indeed, children do not think about building lives. The only person who conscientiously builds them are the adults. When their belief shatters, they will have nothing left. They will no longer believe in parents, no longer believe in the adults who lied, no longer believe in their silly routines.
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It matters not whether they believe in us or not, when the time comes. It is you who said that we are the ones underestimating them. Does that, then, not make you the same? They will need to find out for themselves the truth, not simply have it handed to them by a man they do not know. And when they do, it will be a slow realization, while they are at the same time adjusting to this life.
They will not break, my lord.
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An odd argument with little merits. If you accuse me of babying them, then you fight against the general opinion of the mass population. Think not that I wish to shirk them of their self-realization trip. But it is inevitable they will end up in an incorrect conclusion. Hand them knowledge? Even I am not so generous to give them such a thing. I gave them an inkling of truth. It is up to them to learn more.
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My lord, make no mistakes: you are the one throwing accusations; I do no such thing. An incorrect conclusion is not inevitable. They will find the truth in their own time, and more truth, perhaps, than what we can tell them.
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Your speculation is sadly lacking. Without even the slightest hint, children--no, humans--are apt to be lead the incorrect way. This is no beautiful story. I am merely giving them the direction of the truth. The blind leading the blind is a harsher way of life.
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I wish no more to do with you.
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Before you leave, I wish to inform you one thing. Do not put upon a title upon others just to self-deny yourself. Whether or not I am a Lord, you yourself do not know. Yet you call everybody as a Lady or a Lord, as if you do not understand the burden of those titles. In fact, by that very definition, you would not consider me a Lord.
Your saintly robes do not give you this right.
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