[hider=The quest for the Golden Fish]

It is said that under the thick ice of the permanently frozen Ice Lake lives a fish the size of a grown man. Its scales are made of gold and its flesh nourishing and sweet. 
Five fishermen heard about it and decided to leave their village behind and seek out this fish, for it would bring three desired F’s in their life: Fame, Fortune and Food.
One could argue that Fortune will result in Food, but the fisherman loved to eat fish. They had tasted all the fish known to them, except for the Golden Fish. 
So, they packed their bags, kissed their wives and gathered at the northern exit of their village. 

Five fishermen walked north.

They walked over an earthen path, cart wheels had left deep furrows in the ground. On their right side were meadows where white and yellow flowers had opened their petals to welcome the rays of the sun. On the left a small stream ran along the path and willow trees bathed their roots in the water. A gentle wind moved the long branches from left to right, some of the longer ones drew lines in the water as they moved in harmony with the others.
One fisherman didn’t look where he was going and sprained his ankle. He told the others to leave him behind, he’d make it back to the village.

Four fishermen walked north.

They walked through a thick forest, the leaves on the branches kept the path hidden from the sun. Only when the wind blew strong enough would the leaves allow small openings through which the rays of the sun found their way down, until the openings closed again. The thick bushes on either side of the trail seemed impenetrable. The forest itself was full of life, insects buzzed, birds twittered and chirped, and a bear roared. One of the fisherman got scared and ran back to the village.

Three fishermen walked north.

They reached a lake, the surface as smooth as an eel’s skin. Dragonflies flew just inches above the surface and mosquitoes happily buzzed above the still water. A fish jumped up, violently disrupting the surface, and devoured one of the dragonflies before it disappeared under the water again. They walked through the tall grass, going around the lake. Mosquito’s saw in them an easy meal and swarmed around them. One fisherman couldn’t take it anymore and fled back to the village.

Two fishermen walked north.

They walked over a vast plain with sturdy grass and patches of moss. Small rocks and giant boulders were scattered across the field as if some bored giant-children had played a game to see who could throw the furthest and who could throw the heaviest rock. A chilly wind blew over the grass, pushing it down as it moved along. The fast-flowing river curled through the land, not caring about anything but its final destination. One fisherman was exhausted and told the other to go forward, he needed a break.

One fisherman walked north.

He followed a path up the mountain, a trail littered with gravel. The higher he went the less vegetation there was. After he left behind the final tree there were only patches of grass, adorned with small flowers, growing between the rocks. Eventually only rocks remained and soon he stepped on the first snow. The higher he went, the thicker the snow became. The trail ended at the edge of a sheet of ice. The Ice Lake, he had found it. Now he could search for the mythical Golden Fish. If only he had brought something to get through the ice...
The fisherman turned around and walked back to the village.
[/hider]