How Most Quests End

The ice cracked under his feet, spiderwebs of whiteness streaking away, meeting in ominous union with others fracturing the face of the river. He stood still, fear freezing his feet to the ice more effectively than if he had been ice himself. The creaking, much like a ship in a gale, came to his ears, and he dared not even breath out lest the moment tip the delicate balance on the ice. His eyes moved frantically, knowing than in a few short moments time he would be deep in freezing water with no way of escape. There came another thud on the ice, away towards the vehicle. It shook perceptibly, the ice around the chained wheels lifting tiny flecks of snow into the air. His heart raced as he imaged the giant beast circling a few meters below, probing with its bestial senses to find a weak point in the ice. The group stood statue still, waiting for what they knew was going to happen because there was no way it could be otherwise. Overhead the blue sky stared coldly down at them and the watery sun barely cast a sparkling reflection on the cold surface. With a final splintering heave a huge section of the rivers ice tipped up, showering the bank and the rest of the people with cold water. Someone standing close to the eruption slipped towards to black churning water. Screaming all the way she slid under the water and was silent. Every pair of eyes was strained to watch but no one could do anything about it. The sheer powerlessness of his situation settled in, and breathing became harder. A monstrous tail of some great creature lifted its prehistoric form from the water and crashed down, throwing more of the terrified people into the icy grip of the water. The man looked round, seeing someone standing on the pine-crowded bank. A lone man standing watching their plight impassively. Anger welled up, why didn’t he do something? They were all going to die and he was just watching. Straining his eyes, and amazingly taking his mind off the danger of his situation, the man realised that it was Gorin Wishchild. They had met a few days ago when the expedition sought shelter in their village from the swiftly approaching winter. He wished now that they had been more grateful to the people. Just because the Gov knew about their mission didn’t automatically put every subject in debt to them, especially not out here where the capital was little more than a myth. He remembered thinking when they rolled up, as he saw the awe-struck faces of the children as they watched from behind their parents, these people didn’t even know what the ASD was. The perfect place for the rebel leader to hide was in plain sight.

Suddenly a scream from behind him alerted the man to the approaching danger. He risked upsetting the balance by shouting at the watcher on the bank.

‘Help us! Why didn’t you warn us about this?’

The small man looked directly at him and he felt a chill which was not from the ice run down his spine. The old man threw away his ancient walking stick, pulled himself upright and walked strongly away into the trees without a backward glance at the carnage.

Without further ado, the ice beneath him smashed and he was tipped into a hell of freezing, churning water away from which there was no escape. Even behind the insane fear, the terror of dying, he was wondering why he hadn’t spotted it sooner. But it was far, far too late.