The Butcher's Mushroom

There once was a mining town far beyond the desert. It was led by a greedy and cold-hearted administrator who only had a mind for her riches. Caravans came from far and wide to buy the precious ore and gems that her workers dug from the ground. Yet she was never satisfied with the luxury in which she lived, while the townspeople toiled away from light to dark and from dark to light.

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One autumn when the town returned for the mining season, the administrator set her eyes on the Plains of Sparkling Colors. Hungry for the metals and minerals that glistened among the rocks, she commanded the miners to go and harvest them. But the miners hesitated. These plains were not without danger, as the elders had known for generations. "Good lady, the rocks themselves are treacherous there", said the foreman to the administrator. "A hundred of them could be harmless, and yet the very next one could burst into flames as soon as the pickaxe hits. We all heard the stories as children. Stories of fiery plumes that engulf the lands before they soar into the sky and spread out like the caps of giant mushrooms."
"Are you afraid of rocks now?" mocked the administrator. "So be it that some might burn. Many more will not. Now go forth and do as you are told." With these words she sent her enforcers to drive the miners out into the plains. And the more they brought back of the ore and the gems, the greedier she became. And the greedier she became, the harder she pushed the miners to work.

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Within the town there lived a healer. A gentle and generous man, he was beloved by all but the coldest hearts. Day after day, he tended to the miners who, exhausted from the long and strenuous shifts, came back injured more often than not. He splinted their broken bones, he wrapped their bleeding cuts, and he eased their burns with ointments.
Said ointments he made from the mushrooms that his family had bred for generations. One day he watered the fungal beds, his head heavy from the suffering he had tried to ease for hours on end. That was when he saw it. Gnarly as clouds, glowing in bright colors, the mushrooms rose from the soil like fiery plumes. And across the soil that was covered in their roots, pale as the frost on a winter dawn, the insects and worms crawled away from those plumes as if in fear. He saw it clearly now. The fire soaring into the sky above the frosty plains. The people in anguish, running for their lives and yet being caught in the blaze.
Shaken, he blinked away the dreadful sight. He was back in the greenhouse, the fungal beds watered and the mushrooms standing innocently in the damp soil. But he did not forget. "The danger is out there", he thought, "lurking among the treacherous rocks. And winter is approaching, bringing the cold that stiffens joints and minds. The worst is yet to come."

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And so the healer went to the administrator's house and approached the guards. "Good people, I bring a dire message. Please allow me to speak to the good lady, for grave danger looms over this town." The guards looked to each other, and the elder one nodded. "Follow us", said the guard to the healer, and they led him inside.
As they entered her writing room, the administrator looked up from her books. "Good lady", said the elder guard, "the healer wishes to speak to you. He warns of a great danger looming over the town." - "Is that so?" asked the administrator. "Then tell me, what danger would it be?" Taking a deep breath, the healer began. "Good lady, I fear the plains will burn when winter comes. The rocks will burst into fiery plumes which will soar into the sky and spread out like the caps of giant mushrooms. Across the frosty ground, the people will run in anguish, only to be engulfed in the blaze."
"What makes you think so?" asked the woman with narrowed eyes. "The miners have been working on these plains for months. They may get hurt, but none have died. Tell me what makes you think this will change." - "Good lady, I have seen it", replied the healer. "As I tended to my mushrooms, I could see it as clear as I see you. They sprouted from the soil like fire, as the insects and worms crawled like people fleeing." At this, the administrator laughed. "You are out of your mind", said the woman to the healer. "Should I be afraid of mushrooms sprouting from damp soil? Return to your patients, and see to it that they get back to work."
Saddened, the healer spoke up once more. "Good lady, let it be known that I warned you." - "Take him away", said the woman to the guards, "and send someone to watch over him. Nobody needs to hear his doomsaying. The miners are unruly enough as is."

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And so the days went by, and the townspeople grew ever more tired and weary. The healer held his tongue as demanded, and yet he could not forget the dreadful future he had seen. The miners toiled away from light to dark and from dark to light. Deeper and deeper they ventured into the Plains of Sparkling Colors. Soon the winter's cold came and made their hands and feet clumsy, bringing them to the healer in greater numbers than before.
Then one day, as the sun sank below the horizon, one miner stumbled into a cart loaded with ore. The cart was knocked over and the lumps of ore rolled down the hill. As they collided with the rocks below, one rock split open and burst into flames. Its cracked shell flew across the plains, hitting more and more of its lurking brethren. The miners turned to run, yet they did not get far. One massive plume of fire rose up from the ground, soaring into the sky and spreading out like the cap of a giant mushroom.
Back in the town, the walls shook and the windows shattered. As people ran from the flying glass and debris, they saw the fiery sign of death in the distance. The people began to scream and wail, torn between fleeing from the disaster and running toward their loved ones who had been out in the plains.

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The commotion in the street drew out the administrator, flanked by her guards. "What is going on here?" she demanded to know. Then she saw the mushroom cloud in the distance, and finally, she understood. The people, still shaken and now startled by the call, turned to her. Silence fell over the street, until one townswoman cried out. "This was your doing! You sent them to their death!" A man's voice followed. "You are nothing but a butcher, murdering our peers like cattle!" - "Yes, a butcher!" yelled yet another. "Their blood is on your hands, and yours alone!" - "Butcher! Butcher!" echoed the choir all over the town.
The accused said no word. Shielded by her guards, she slowly returned to her house.

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Days passed as the townspeople mourned and honored their dead. When the caravans came to trade, nobody greeted them. The doors to the administrator's house remained closed, and the streets around it were empty.
Months passed as the town fell into poverty. Food was scarce without the usual trade, clothes became tattered and broken vehicles were left where they had failed. During all this time, the administrator never left her home, too consumed by guilt and shame.

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One day, the healer knocked on her door. The guards who opened said no word, silently stepping aside to let him in. They led him to her private chamber where she sat, her whole body hanging limply as she stared ahead. "Good lady, I have come to see how you are faring in these times." She did not reply, merely twitching the tip of her tail to dismiss the guards. When she finally spoke, it was a mere ghost of the way her voice used to sound. "Good man, I am no lady. And I am certainly not good. I am but a butcher, murdering the good people of this town like cattle. They warned me, and I mocked them. You warned me, and I laughed in your face. Now half the town is dead and my blood is on their hands. I have no excuse. I have no solution. This is how I am faring in these times."
The healer stepped closer, not willing to leave. "Good lady, I fear this is no time for wallowing in guilt. See, half of the town is still alive. But they hunger without the trade from the caravans. Their clothes are tattered, and their broken vehicles line the streets. It is true that the dead will not come back. It is true that you ignored all warnings. But in destruction lies a lesson. I beg you, good lady, do not ignore this lesson, for if you do, all these deaths will have been in vain."
The woman sighed deeply. Slowly, her gaze rose to meet his. "Well then, good man", she finally said, "I will not ignore this lesson."

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As they stepped out into the street, the townsfolk quickly gathered, watching the woman with icy glares. "Good people, I was wrong", she began to speak. "You truly were", came a shout from the crowd, and within seconds, the choir rose up again. "Butcher! Butcher!" screamed those left behind, and the woman faltered. But then the healer stepped forward, and they fell silent. "Good people", said the healer, "I beg you to hear her out. Remember that everyone has the right to learn from mistakes."
Grumbles and murmurs filled the air. As they faded, the woman spoke again. "I apologize for ignoring your warnings. I apologize for sending your loved ones to their deaths. My blood is on their hands, and I have no-one to blame but myself." The grumbling and murmurs grew louder again, but she continued. "And I apologize for abandoning you when I had a duty to care for those who remain. So I promise you this: From this day on, this town will mine only where it is safe. All shall share that which is earned from trading with the caravans. And this town will rise again. For in destruction lies a lesson, and I will not ignore mine."

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So the town moved away from the Plains of Sparkling Colors. When the caravans returned, the administrator sold what resources they had mined before the mushroom cloud, and then traded her amassed fortune for everything the caravans had to offer. As the town grew, she met with the healer to discuss the injuries that had plagued the miners before. Together they devised methods to protect the workers and ensure that everyone was well-rested before their shift.
The administrator learned to tend to the mushrooms, and now that there was less demand for them, the surplus was traded with the caravans. As the town prospered and grew, the administrator and the healer got married, and together they ushered in an age of wealth and health for everyone.