– You call us Angels, but you laugh loudly at our backs when we speak to you of the flight. You crucify us when we come to your world as prophets only because of you and for you. Time and again you forget of the Highest world once you have clothed yourself in the armor of flesh. You made us the children's fairy tale and plunged yourself into the horrors of own adult reality. You remember nothing of own obligations, undertaken before the birth, and travel by roads not intended for you. You destroyed our teachings with your religions – and they were deprived of the last drop of life, sanctity and true kindness. You replaced soul with technologies, and your machines started killing you. You cease to remember, that the world does not live for long without a peace inside it. And by the end of your filled with vanity lives you keep thinking that have brought something to this suffering world that possess a quality of eternity, and therefore you should be awarded. But it’s not for you to decide.

– Amigo! – with these words dressed in a strict red attire Curator appeared before his Blue colleague, continuing to soar in the air, continually streaming air waves in all directions, under the influence of which numerous books and manuscripts in apartments of his old acquaintance were rustling with their pages, sometimes even soaring up for a while. – What is that are you doing here today? – he asked his friend a question, fixedly looking at how he was working behind the desk with some glistening manuscript.

– Writing a message to a prophet. I was ordered to deliver it to the destination. He will then give it to others.  However, I am afraid that they won't understand a single word, just like the last time. You know what they are.

– Nothing holy behind a mask of pseudo-sanctity! – Curator in red attire burst out laughing. – Here, I still remember how a couple of centuries ago you were still trying to tell them what was awaiting them a century later on – and what do you think? Even a century after these bloody events they still believe that he was not talking about a revolution in that particular poem. And this patronized poet of yours even named that poem “Prediction”.

– I am just doing my job, – with notes of grief in his voice said the Blue Curator, putting aside a silver feather. – How they will use its results – is their own personal choice.

– As well as the fate, – added the Red Curator.

– As well as the fate, – confirmed the Blue.

– By the way, I just flew to Scribes here, – shifting from one wing to the other, confusedly answered the Red. – Concerning yesterday couple, I asked for specifications on their life scenario. Anton with Olga, do you remember them? We were arguing with you for a vial of ambrosia, which of them would first begin  that conversation that was going to be the start of their relations. So, – the Red Curator burst out laughing, – I have truly got a specification from the Scribes today.

– And who will that be? – the Blue Curator interrogatively looked on the Red, while continuing to draw something with a feather in the manuscript.

– Cat, naturally! In the cafe where they would be sitting that day at one little table, the homeless cat will wander in, who will then jump on a table and start loudly demanding some fish for herself as well. And they, most certainly, will caress and feed her, and get acquainted with each other in the process. So how it go! You never guess that in advance!

– His ways are inscrutable, as people like to say, – smiled the Blue Curator. – I wouldn't think it up, not able to write life scenarios.

– And you also don't need to, – the Red Curator friendly clapped his colleague on a wing. – You perform your own job very qualitatively.

– And what of Kirill and Veronika? We were jokingly arguing about them yesterday as well, remember? Awakened souls, extremely rare case, by modern standards.

– Certainly, I remember them. Such souls aren’t forgotten neither by me, nor by the Supreme One. So, I managed to convince the Scribes to allow me to take a glimpse on their scenario. It appears that a new leaf was recently added to their scenario, a final one – and everything drastically changed for them according to the decision of the Supreme One and the Uniform Law without violations of a free will. Here, take a look, – and, having that said, the Red Curator waved a wing, and in the center of workshop vivant, almost alive pictures started flowing, replacing one another.

– … And then he dances on the clouds. Beautifully. Sadly, however, but, nevertheless, beautifully. Some corresponding music is still to be added here. It turns out that she will share his destiny up to this last moment and further on, – the Blue Curator sighted sadly the moment pictures from alive scenario dissolved in the air.

– A worthy parting with a mortal body seldom happens to be cheerful. So, such is the additional piece here.

– And did you by any chance happen to acquire a scenario for the Earth? – smiled the Blue Curator. – Probably, so many interesting destinies have been described there.

– Or so many uninteresting ones. You perfectly know the rule – without compliance of free will to a course of scenario, its points can't come to life.

– I know. Therefore, I have never asked for it in the Library. It’s a difficult task – to know the future of others beforehand. Especially when life gives person a choice, and he doesn't use it. And you foreknow in advance that he would have never used it, being given it even one thousands of times. But as long as there are those who continue choosing ascension, – there is still hope left for their world.

– Who if not the Seer should know that well, – the Red Curator smiled and once again clapped his friend on a wing.

– Who if not the Supervisor of Fates should remember that mysterious are the ways of the Lord, – the Blue Curator winked in reply.

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Short Story
writing prokhor_ozornin
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