[Chr24] Avalanche! Watch Out! | The Frozen Descent

The Frozen Descent

The snowy mountains were no place for the inexperienced, but Simon wasn’t inexperienced. He had made a life out of survival, whether it was against nature or his fellow man. The harsh, steep slopes and deceptively deep snow mounds posed challenges, sure, but he had faced worse. His mask obscured his face, filtering his breaths against the biting wind. He wasn’t here for glory; he wasn’t even sure why he agreed to this journey. All he knew was that Ji-Yong had asked him to come, and Simon owed him too much to refuse.

Ji-Yong was leading the group. Always the optimist, he navigated with a steady confidence that could inspire even the most doubtful. “Keep moving,” Ji-Yong called back, his breath misting in the frigid air. “We’ve got a long way to go before the storm hits.”

Jericho trailed behind Ji-Yong, lugging a pack twice the size of his sturdy frame. His hooves crunched in the snow with each determined step. “What storm?” he asked skeptically, glancing up at the clear, azure sky.

Simon, walking behind Jericho, had already spotted the faint line of darker clouds forming on the horizon. Ji-Yong always saw things first, though; it was part of why Simon trusted him so implicitly. The youngest of their group, Lucid, brought up the rear, silent as ever. His bandaged eyes made it impossible to read his expressions, but his movements were eerily sure for someone who couldn’t see. He didn’t need help finding his footing in the snow or navigating the icy terrain.

Simon glanced back at Lucid, half-wondering how the boy managed.

“You’re staring again,” Lucid said, his voice even and cold. “I can feel it.”

Simon said nothing, but a faint grin tugged at the corners of his mouth beneath his mask. Lucid unnerved him, but in a way that also intrigued him. Something about the boy felt…otherworldly.

The group pressed forward, the silence between them broken only by the crunch of snow beneath their feet. Ji-Yong led them through a particularly deep patch of snow, his legs sinking almost to his knees with each step. Simon followed, grumbling to himself. It was exhausting work, and the altitude wasn’t doing his lungs any favors.

“Why are we even doing this again?” Jericho asked, shifting the heavy pack on his shoulders.

Ji-Yong didn’t respond immediately. “We’re doing it because it’s necessary,” he said finally, his voice carrying an edge of resolve. “And because none of us would be here otherwise.”

Jericho muttered something under his breath but kept walking.

Simon had just stepped forward when he felt it—the faint tremor beneath his hooves. At first, he thought it might have been his imagination, but then it came again, stronger this time. A low, steady rumble followed, growing louder by the second.

Lucid froze, his head tilting slightly as if listening to something only he could hear. “Avalanche,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Simon turned to look behind them and felt a sinking pit of dread in his stomach. A roaring avalanche was crashing down the side of the mountain, a massive wall of snow and ice barreling toward them with terrifying speed.

Ji-Yong acted first. “Run! Get to higher ground!” he shouted, pointing to a rocky outcrop nearby.

Jericho hesitated for a split second, his eyes wide with panic, before he dropped his pack and sprinted after Ji-Yong. Lucid didn’t move.

“Lucid, go!” Simon barked, grabbing the boy’s arm.

“I can’t outrun it,” Lucid said calmly, as if the fact didn’t bother him. “Neither can you.”

Simon looked at the avalanche again. It was massive, relentless, and far too close. Ji-Yong and Jericho were already scrambling up the outcrop, but the snow was closing in too fast. Simon cursed under his breath, his mind racing for options.

His eyes landed on a crevasse a few meters to their left. It was narrow and deep, with jagged ice walls. It wasn’t an ideal refuge, but it was better than being buried alive.

“There!” Simon shouted, dragging Lucid toward the crevasse.

Lucid didn’t resist. “You’re going to regret this.”

“No time for regrets,” Simon snapped as they reached the edge of the crevasse. Without hesitation, he shoved Lucid down first, then followed, using his hands and feet to brace himself against the icy walls as they slid down into the darkness.

The avalanche roared overhead, a deafening cacophony of snow and ice. Simon pressed himself against the ice wall, his heart pounding in his chest. The crevasse shook violently, and for a moment, he feared it might collapse. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the noise faded, replaced by an eerie silence.

Simon exhaled a shaky breath and looked up. The entrance to the crevasse was now sealed by a thick layer of snow. They were trapped.

Lucid shifted beside him, his bandages stark white against the shadows. “Well, that was dramatic.”

Simon glared at him. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Lucid smirked faintly, as if amused by Simon’s irritation. “I didn’t need saving.”

Simon ignored him and focused on their predicament. The crevasse was tight, but there was just enough space to move. Above them, the snowpack was thick, but not impenetrable.

“We’ll dig our way out,” Simon said, his tone firm. “Help me.”

Lucid raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Lucid sighed but complied, using his gloved hands to scoop at the snow. It was slow, grueling work, but Simon refused to give up. They were going to get out of this—one way or another.

Hours passed before they finally broke through to the surface. The sky above was dark, the storm Ji-Yong had warned about now in full swing. Snow and wind lashed at them, making it almost impossible to see.

Simon scanned the area, his heart sinking when he realized they were alone. Ji-Yong and Jericho were nowhere in sight.

“They’re ahead,” Lucid said, his voice cutting through the wind. “We need to move.”

Simon didn’t question how Lucid knew; he had learned by now that the boy’s intuition was unnervingly accurate. Together, they pressed on, battling the storm with every step.

Eventually, they found Ji-Yong and Jericho huddled in a shallow cave. Ji-Yong’s face lit up with relief when he saw them.

“You made it,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Barely,” Simon muttered, collapsing onto the ground.

Jericho handed them a flask of water, his hands shaking from the cold. “Thought we lost you.”

Simon didn’t respond, too exhausted to speak. Lucid, however, simply smiled faintly, as if the whole ordeal had been nothing more than an inconvenience.

As they sat together in the cave, the storm howling outside, Simon couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead. The mountains were unforgiving, but so were they. And if there was one thing he had learned in his years of survival, it was this: the only way out was through.

And they would get through—together.