Yes.
It's no mistake that the Universe only enmagicks troubling children. She has to. All the wicked must be punished before the Day of Tears. Even babies.
And magic is the worst punishment there is.
Why, of course, it is. It's more awful than anything you've heard of. Boulders and black holes and fires and lakes and endless, endless space. Magical children are dangerous, and that is that.
No, sweetheart, I don't know why this curse has come so suddenly. Certainly, worse children have been born yet. But people have begun to jump at shadows. They have ideas. Ask them your silly questions.
No, I'd rather not talk about it myself. You'll hear their rubbish before the stars come out, anyway.
Oh, for heaven's sake, swallow before you speak. How many times must I tell you?
Why they're dangerous? Darling. They're clearly unstable. And quite mad. Can't you tell?
Honestly. The things I have to explain to you.
Of course, I'm sure. Haven't you seen their blood? Their skin? Demonic! Witchcraft and fear and trails of starlight every which way. I shudder to think what your friends will do when they come of age. And that is why you can't play with them.
Oh, hush now. Don't cry. The world still spins, darling, and the sun still rises, as long as that continues, we'll be fine. It's not the end of the world.
Yet.
The Day of Tears waits for no one, after all. Now, hurry on and eat your supper. Don't you have chores to do?
Silly child.
