Chapter Two: A Question of Scrolls
Malak sat in his chair near the small stream, playing his fiddle; the tune was slow and soulful. Anya stood at a distance and allowed him to finish the song; it was "bad form" to interrupt a musician during a performance.
"T'was a sad tune you were playing, Malak. Has the season passed for cheer already?" asked the matron. Malak turned his head in her direction and, with almost no effort, began a lively jig that ended abruptly.
"Now, what brings a feather duster like yourself out so early in the morning? I figured you would still be roosting in your box." chuckled the old man.
"If you must know, I came to ask you about the scrolls and what they say about those Waldvolker who resist prophecy and raise arms against The Dark One." Silence met her request, and then Malak waved the matron over to his spot and pointed toward the stream.
"See the ripples, see how they dance and fight against the current; going against it seems natural for some." Anya studied the water, then asked her friend.
"You're telling me the scrolls are not prophetic and that, like flowing water, tend to seek the path of least resistance?" The man stood, put his arm around his friend, and suggested they have butter cake and elder nut tea.
"We can talk on the way, lass," Malak explained that it was not so much that the scrolls told the future. Instead, they guided folks to see possibilities or one way to view an event.
"The writings never spoke of things as unchanging. Like the rain that trickles over a stone, sometimes it flows straight; other times, it shoots off in a completely different direction. This was how the scrolls interpret life and nothing more."
Anya's brow furrowed, and she was about to ask a question.
Malak added, "We have had peace for so long now that any thought of things changing has no grounds for being; folks fear change. Instead of challenging the future, they merely accept the scrolls as unchangeable; that's not what the ancestors intended them for, Anya. Does that answer your query?"
She nodded and blew a shrill whistle, bringing several snowy white owls that encircled the two as they headed toward the building's entrance.