Free Dark Tales Of Lost Civilizations by Eric J. Guignard (Editor)

many contradictory ideas—it’s not good for them. They confuse easily, you see. One idea. One course. One way, the right way. That’s the proper method to civilize a populace. The school? No, no, there is still a school—a school I opened, a school I organized for them. Now they all learn to read and write and to count to one hundred and learn all about their duties as citizens of the state. I tell you, I had to completely restructure the educational systems around here. Their previous standard of learning was appallingly low and the subject matters were ridiculous. Music? Art? Have these ever benefited anyone? Sure, they make for fine leisure pastimes, but leisure is the only area where the Munchkins excelled. Kindness lessons? Such drivel! Why not deportment, that’s what I said. Proper etiquette and deportment will help you get on in the world. And do I receive thanks or praise? Of course not. But in government, no one can truly expect such commendation. No one ever thinks to thank their betters. Such is the way of the world.
    What? No, no, that simply is not true. Just another lie they tell in the square. Of course they still have their festival days, still gather together in great numbers in celebration. It is only the scope, the—what is the word—the focus of these festivals, well, of course that has changed. It’s all part of their re-education. Part of their learning. But I have not forbid them from gathering, from coming together in celebration. I only impose that they do it at certain times, under certain conditions, to celebrate the glory that is today, to toast the success of the state. And why not? Why should the people not be allowed to celebrate their own successes—oh yes, theirs as much as mine, for I do it all for them, every law, every commandment, every cleansing, every raid, every mass arrest, every new law, it is all for them, for the betterment of their lives. Why is that so hard to understand?
    Well of course there has been punishment. There must be punishment! If someone breaks the law, they must be punished. Is that not the way in the Winkie land? Is that not also true in Sapphire City? You find my punishments cruel and unusual? You simply do not understand the depraved nature of the little beasts. Nor the simple effectiveness of such measured and tested policy. And these punishments are not cruel. The method of execution is swift and sure. No one suffers here. There is no need to suffer. Everyone gets what they deserve, whatever that may be.
    Regrets? Oh, I’ve many, but most are for my people, the poor Munchkins. I fear my work is only begun. I fear what will happen to them without my strong, reasoned hand. Will they slip into anarchy, back into the revelry of yore? They need me, you see. They need me to fear because that is the only way they will ever change. Well, perhaps my lessons have sunk in. Perhaps these short years have been enough. I can only hope. They are my legacy, after all. Not the family I always planned on, or the happy life I envisioned. Not my simple, plaintive death. No, a house has put an end to all that. It is up to them, now. To carry on as I led them. To follow my example. To stay the course. It would be better for them. I know that. I absolutely do. And perhaps, in time, they will see that for themselves.
    And perhaps, now that I am gone, they will finally learn to appreciate me.
    South
    I wasn’t supposed to die.
    Not I, the most powerful being in all of Oz. More powerful than my good sister, more powerful than all the evil in Oz put together, more powerful than the charlatan Wizard and his foolish band. I, and I alone, am power incarnate.
    And they took it all away.
    I, and I alone, was destined to forestall death. That was my power, my right. And I had earned it. I was good . . . mostly. More truly I was power and, wielded for the right or the might, it did not matter. What I did was good because I did it. No one could say otherwise. But I did do good, I did.