The River Returns By Helen French

[Glitch]

I stood by the empty riverbed, watching and waiting, trying not to fall asleep standing up. Birds screeched overhead, swooping in circles, as if they knew something I didn’t.

“You all right, Devad?” the man to my right asked. Nain, his name was. A scout of sorts. He was short and stout with a thick northern accent.

I nodded.

“She’ll be here soon. I hope you’re ready.”

I shivered in response – my badly patched trousers and woollen top were no match for the morning chill. Still, waiting for whatever came next was better than tending to the animals. At fourteen, and as the second son, I was supposed to embrace our hardworking life. Much to Mother’s disappointment, I had not yet done so.

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[The Judge]

Another great story from Helen, whose username here on Chrons is mistri.

Regular readers may recall she won the Kraxon Story of the Year award in 2020, just pipping Mouse in a tie-break, and I'm guessing this is going to be another contender for the 2022 award!