"The Fate of the World" by Amanda Rosberg Olsson

The Fate of the World

In the middle of nothing, there is a table. It is circular and not very large. Around the table there are four chairs, one of them is empty. The others are occupied by three old men.

The first sits slightly leaning forward watching a fly make its way across the table. His skin is even darker than the worn wood. He's wearing his hooded cape up, although his tired eyes are clearly visible. His sparse white beard is a stark contrast to his dark brown skin.

The man next to him has let his white beard grow long and some stripes of hair falls from his nearly bald head. He is sitting leaned back, showing yellowing teeth in his slightly parted mouth. His eyes are closed and a soft snore comes from his figure.

The third and last is leaning forward as well, unseen light reflecting of his bald head and chin. The pink skin is sickly grey in spots. He keeps wringing his hands and looking intently at the one with the long beard.

"The world will soon be destroyed." It was the third one who spoke with firm albeit dry voice. The other two sits perfectly still. The third leans forward to nudge his adjacent, he who had been sleeping. "Wake up, old man!" The second roused from the movement.

"Huh? What?" He asks, "What do you want now?" His voice is weak and he speaks slowly.

"The world is coming to an end" The third clasps his hands over his generous abdomen . The second snorts scornfully and irritation twists the features of the third. "I'm serious! A disaster will soon strike…"

"You always say that disaster will strike." the second retorts, annoyed with being woken. "More often than not, you have been the cause of it," he added almost as an afterthought.

"I'm telling you; this is different. I haven't done anything since the last destroyer. Take a look for yourself and you will see this."

The centre of the table disappeared as the ancient ones would use it to look on the land of men. The first sighs and licks his lips as the fly takes flight and flies away into the nothingness.

"So there is still a world" Says the first as the mirror in the table fluttered and obeyed the third's wishes.

"Look upon mankind, have you ever seen them like this? There are no wars, famine or plagues. Children and grandchildren are happy to live the lives of their parents." The first smacks his lips again and the second begins to stroke his beard.

"This is truly new behaviour."

"Magic is no longer needed for anything but entertainment for children at carnivals." The third stops for a moment, a hint of surprise on his features. "They are content." The second nods and silence spreads between them.

"'Tis what our sister always wanted," says the first with a solemn glance at the empty chair. "She is gone."

"She has left."

"She is dead." They all nodded. Their thoughts were like one and they are once again quiet. After some time, possibly moments, possibly centuries. The third turns even more to the second. "We never agreed with her. This will be the end of everything. We must do something, interfere once again."

"Bah!" The second spoke unusually animatedly. "What can we do? We are but old men. We no longer have the strength to do what we did before. We cannot bring down lightening nor can we quake the earth. We are old, my friend." The second turns away for a moment, towards the empty seat before turning back.

"We'll summon a human to do our bidding, we have done it before."

"Simple child's play," says the first, the distant look still in his eyes. The third but glares at him.

"Yes, we have done it before, but only to tell them to clear up the mess we ourselves have created." The second finishes with a sigh. "What you want is impossible." He leans back in is chair again, closing his eyes as he does.

"But…" The third one starts to protest but was interupted by the second.

"Ah, such sweet memories…" his voice drifted off. "I shall dream of them."

"Listen to me, I say we can do it!" The fly comes buzzing back, the mirror ones again becomes wood as it lands. The first once again locks his eyes on to its movements. Eventually, the third also settles back in his chair, staring into oblivion.