[ WP ] A wise veteran and mentor , a young student with fantastic potential and destiny , and a small band of heroes must complete a quest of incredible importance . When the student dies unexpectedly , the mentor must step into the role of hero one last time to complete the quest .

An icy wind pressed on the mountain, it ’ s climbers swayed. 
 Old calloused fingers nudged a protruding piece of rock, feeling for stability. 
 Bernard used it as a handhold, his fingers wrapping around it's cold slippery surface. 
 Against better judgement, he gazed down. 
 A drop of thousands of feet stared back at him. 
 He peeled his tired eyes away and settled them on the chipper young man climbing below him, “ You hanging in there, Arthur? ” 
 A particularly aggressive burst of wind brought the conversation to a standstill, the climbers pressed themselves against the mountainside. Despite their situation, the young man was all smiles, brimming with vitality. 
 Recruited from a small town, the boy fit the hero ’ s description of the prophecy to an unsettling degree. 
 Saying he was born for it would be an understatement. 
 In fact, he fit the bill to star in several other prophecies. 
 Turns out the people that make up prophecies aren ’ t very creative, they all wanted a tall heroic figure with dashing good looks, and an almost depressing ability to succeed at everything that person attempted. 
 Not so much depressing for that person himself, but rather for everyone else forced to interact with him. 
 Bernard had decided to keep quiet about all the other prophecies, lest the boy should suddenly sprout aspirations to become something like the world ’ s greatest baker. 
 “ And probably succeed at it too, ” grumbled Bernard. 
 Young Arthur naturally excelled at everything he attempted, much to the annoyance of the various masters travelling alongside him. 
 They felt themselves slip from their “ Mentor ” role at a frightening pace, and hated him for it. 
 The wizard had even gone as far as hiding his spell tomes, as Arthur had developed a habit of mastering spells overnight. 
 Naturally, most mentors had cut their teachings short or were deliberately vague. 
 *'' Stick'em with the pointy end,'' * the swordsman would explain. 
 `` *Just wave your hands around and yell'fireball' a lot, *'' the wizard would say. 
 But Bernard was at an age where he couldn ’ t afford to be selfish, and continued to personally educate young Arthur on everything a strapping young hero should know. 
 Arthur tucked a strand of blond hair behind a pointy ear, “ Never felt better, ” he smiled. 
 He was, of course, an half-elf. 
 Bernard rolled his eyes, something told him this young man would in some inexplicable way or another resolve the 300-year old feud between the two races, and bring peace to this war-torn land. 
 He warmed himself with thoughts of someday watching Arthur marry some Elvish princess, and in doing so, unite the realm. 
 He ’ d stand amongst the crowd gathered in the pristine white palace, Arthur would call him out and inform the crowd of the perilous journey they had taken together, the foes they defeated and their camaraderie. 
 The wizard climbing below Arthur began to shout, using one hand to hold his pointy hat, “ Hurry it up, my hands are freezing! ” 
 Bernard snapped out of his fantasies and moved his hand with renewed determination towards the next handhold, it snapped off. 
 The rock tumbled down and hit young Arthur square in the face. 
 The entire party meekly watched as the hero-to-be dropped down the mountain. 
 Then their heads turned towards Bernard. 
 `` Well, damn.'' 
 
 The wizard stared at him with frantic eyes, “ Did you just… ”. 
 “ Not on purpose, ” said Bernard hastily, “ Let ’ s go back down, he might still be alive. ” 
 Hanging from a handhold below the wizard, the ranger squinted her eyes, “ I think he ’ s moving, yeah, he ’ s standing. ” 
 Bernard smiled in relief, “ Really? ” 
 A large bird swooped down and slammed into Arthur with enough force to crack castle walls. 
 The wizard casually pulled a pair of glasses from the inside of his robe, “ A grand northern eagle, talons like century-old ice, beak like tempered steel, ” he said, taking off the glasses and tucking them back into his robe, “ He ’ s done for. ” 
 A tiny figure swayed back and forth, avoiding the talons the eagle thrust at him. 
 There was an piercing squawk, the eagle slammed into the ground beside the tiny figure. 
 The tiny figure screamed its victory cry, sword held high. 
 The mountain rumbled, snow began to shift, `` Hang on!'' the ranger cried. 
 The party clung desperately to the mountain as the avalanche passed overhead, the tiny figure was swept away. 
 Bernard watched with fearful eyes, “ Hold on, he might be alive. ” 
 A gorgeous head of blond hair popped out of the snow. 
 “ Wow, look at that, ” said the ranger in amazement, “ He ’ s alive. ” 
 Bernard foot scratched against the mountain, looking for a foothold, `` We quickly need to go down and --'' 
 Arthur disappeared back into the snow, large worm-like creatures circled around where his head had been. 
 The wizard chuckled, “ Snow jormunds, they allow themselves to be swept away by an avalanche and feed on whatever is trapped in the snow. ” 
 The snow turned crimson, the worms left mole-like trails in the snow as they left, searching for their next meal. 
 “ He might be alive, ” proclaimed Bernard with a tremble in his voice. 
 The ranger raised an eyebrow, “ Feel free to go check. “
