Prologue: Deciding Fate
"Now…where were we…" the hooded figure mused. She along with two other hooded figures were alone in the dark, candle-lit room. The other two figures moved to the side, revealing a small table with a few assorted objects and an elaborately-designed tablecloth. As they moved, one of them picked up a long, thin, strand of thread from the table. The speaker glided over to the table and picked up a pair of scissors.
"We gave him his time, and now he must give it back. It is time for him to go below," she said to the figures. The one holding the strand nodded her blank, emotionless face. She held the string taut in front of the first figure as she had done with hundreds of thousands of strings before this one.
"What a shame. He was an interesting character," the one with the strand said. The first figure opened the scissors and held them in front of her, the strand hovering between the blades.
"There will be more in time. This is the destiny of all mortals. We do not associate ourselves with them for this very purpose." She unceremoniously snapped the blades together, severing the strand. Overhead, a wisp of smoke curled around, and danced in the air as if blown by some unseen force. It continued its dance until it suddenly vanished.
The one with the scissors had been eyeing the smoke, and she nodded her head in approval before dismissing it. "He was old and frail as it was. We gave him a good life. Besides, we've been sparing those mortals so it is not as if they are in constant need for us to end their otherwise short lives."
"Very true," the third figure agreed. "They should enjoy their time of peace and good health."
The second smirked. "The calm before the storm."
"Precisely," the first said. "We can see everything. All that was, that is, and what will be. And they won't expect what will soon be coming their way. What will be coming to all of us. Including our immortal friends."
The third spoke next. "However, there is some leeway. They all have the ability to take our decisions into their own hands. They do have some control over their own destinies…"
The first lowered her hood. Her black hair fell in soft tangles around her beautiful, but sharp, face. "The question is," she started, "will they do it? And what path will they choose, should they decide to take it? We know the end results for each path…"
"It is time for things to change in the world," the second said, stepping forward. "It has been needed for a long time now."
The third raised her head, the candlelight scarcely illuminating her grinning, hooded face. "Then let us set that wheel in motion."
