Per 
It was very easy to spot Quest even from a distance away. The orange disc behind the horizon diffused its perpetual splendour, caking the Earth in a warm orange glow. The evening sunlight that was filtered through the leaves of the tree along the path danced across his face, highlighting the beautiful imperfections of his countenance. My eyes tracked his unsteady movements as he tottered towards me, leaning on his walking stick. A paroxysm of grief shuddered my lips as I recalled the fact: my dear Quest was going to die tomorrow.
Many years have passed since I first met him, when I was still young. Brought to the Foundation on a conditional admission due to his genius that allowed us to find a solution to a mystery that plagued us for decades, we honoured him by letting him drink from the spring of life. With a lifespan that had effectively been increased, he was able to continue his fervent endeavours to contribute to the progress of many experimental techniques of the Foundation that we still use to this day.
We chanced upon each other in the Foundation cafeteria. I was about 25 years old then and I had recently moved in with my wife's family. My life was perfect and there was nothing else I had left to desire in this material world: I was loved by my family and I was on a fast track to promotion. And yes, life did treat me well all these years. I was granted an honorary administration role that allowed me to sit in council with the O5s and was allowed to speak of any issues I found needed to be addressed. It was in one of these meetings that I learnt of Quest. Of course, I had seen him around the facility a few times (a talking duck tends to attract a lot of attention) but I never questioned it.
The topic during the meeting was the danger the council faced due to the spring of life being dried up by global warming. All of them had prepared contingency plans, preparing for their eventual destruction. One of the O5s had even started development on a self-propagating meme that stored all information of the Foundation so that even if they fell, the Foundation would eventually be rediscovered again. I asked, "Is it not simple to elect future O5s from the promising candidates of research departments?" to which they replied: "It's not that easy. It is hard to explain to a mere human, but the concept of the Foundation is too deeply tied to us — the people of the internet all believe we're some immortal freak of natures, and thus we cannot relinquish our hold that easily."
I frowned, trying to understand what they meant by denizens of the internet, and I asked for clarification. "We are urban legends of sorts," they started. "In an alternate dimension, the records of Foundation is available to anyone who cares to search for it. Their collective image of us have manifested and have slowly started to influence us. In fact, all the decisions we make lie in their narration of the story we live in. Additionally, as the spring of life has dried up, there will be no more epilogue for the Foundation if we die. It will crumble if we do not continue to stand at its top and resume operations."
And so the meeting came to an end. I was promptly dismissed, my thoughts in a disarray. As I was walking out, I happened to hear a conversation not meant for my ears. One voice said: "Researcher Quest claims to have almost perfected the formula of the water that gives life. However, it currently resides in his body and the only way for us to extract it is to-" and another cut him off. "We have to kill and dissect him once he finishes the solution, it is a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of humanity. For the greater good of us." There was a moment of silence.
"Long live the Foundation!" a terrible shout was heard from the other side of the door, accompanied by the thumping of the table that harmonised with the pitter-patter of my scared feet that carried me away from the horrifying room.
Through a twist of fate, I met Quest the next day, who was queuing in line to get a bowl of noodles in the cafeteria. I decided to observe him for a moment. He flew on top of the counter, dropping a few coins that he held in his beak. Pointing to the menu that he was stepping on with his right wing, he ordered a bowl of prawn noodles. A few moments passed until the store owner returned with a bowl of noodles that were placed on a tray with two strings attached to its side. In one swift motion, Quest gathered the two strings and hooked it onto his webbed feet. Flapping his wings, he carried the tray as he searched for an empty table to set his food down. I followed behind him. Soon, he settled down upon a table, his breast heaving in exhaustion.
I could have left him there. Of course, we weren't related in anyway yet and there was no point for me to becoming acquaintances with someone who was fated to die soon. However, my innermost feelings of guilt seemed to will my legs to walk towards Quest's table. He continued eating even as I pulled a chair out to sit. I let him continue for a while, for I was not searching to start a conversation, I merely wanted solace in these confusing times. "State your business," Quest spoke, in an ever-so-slightly supercilious voice. "I do not wish to interrupt your meal, and in fact, I do not need anything from you. My inner emotions are simply besting me, and I would be pleased if you entertain me for a while," I mentioned in a mellow tone. At that moment, I swear I could see Quest's metaphorical eyebrows furrowing, but the tension in Quest's avian face soon dissipated. He grumbled: "Then so be it."
We sat in a comfortable silence, neither of us expecting anything from each other, and it felt as if we had formed a slight connection. A very magical thing happened just by sitting next to Quest. My nerves that were tensed from vexation slowly melted away, and my foggy brain cleared. Only then was I able to take in the world around me a little better. I raised my head up, and suddenly realised this was the first time I had properly seen Quest. I cannot accurately describe it, but to put it bluntly, he was incredibly handsome. An aura of charisma emanated from him naturally and it seemed to highlight non-existent features (or at least, features that I couldn't spot with my human eyes), painting a picture of a very confident and righteous man. His beady eyes exuded a sense of intelligence and every of his actions seem measured and controlled to give off a semblance of grace in consideration. Oh, for how long I had desired a friend that was gentle yet courageous, whose tastes are like my own, possessed of a cultivated as well as capacious mind, to approve or amend my plans! And it seemed that I had found the one.
We met like this every few days, our meetings became a routine and a highlight of my day. We would discuss many topics and we enjoyed each other's company. I soon grew attached and began to love him like a brother, for we possessed similar minds and upheld the same values. Quest would talk about his work with such ardent passion — everyday he began by encapsulating his new ambitions, and he would continue when I pleaded him to tell me more. But with these growing feelings of camaraderie, the guilt that resided in my heart due to me bottling up the secret of his eventual demise gnawed away at me until I could no longer endure it.
"Quest, my feathered friend, I must tell you something," I began slowly, my words laced with a thin layer of dread. My perceptive friend noticed my emotions immediately, "What haunts you, dear Top, that your face would pale this much and cause your hands to tremble so?"
"Quest, I know the words that I will soon say will trample your ambitions and seem to insult your intellect, but it is for the best. I implore you to listen to my words carefully if you want to survive," I intonated gravely. Quest turned his head away from me for a while, then nodded slowly, "I will try to be understanding, my friend."
I told him of the conspiracy the O5s had planned and the implications if it were successfully carried out. During this time I carefully observed Quest's face, that seemed to transition between shock, confusion and sorrow. "I did not know that the situation was thus," Quest sung, his voice full of melancholy. "For the sake of yourself, Quest, I beg that you stop your research and contribute in other ways. Your achievements over the years will not be forgotten and the council will be unable to touch you this way," I stretched out my hand to hold his wing. Quest shook his head sadly. "I am sorry, Top. There is a reason that I continue to do what I am doing despite the dangers and it is not as simple as stopping the refinement process that I have set into action in my body. If you care, I will tell you a story that is very close to my heart."
Seeing the unwavering determination in his eyes, my chest tightened. Although I could not bear to lose my friend, I realised it was foolish of me to impede his progress for my own selfish desire to live a life with a conscious not blotted with a death of another. I relented, and so he told me his tale.
"I was born an ugly duckling, my feathers dark and muddy-coloured and there were spots where they did not grow. I was abandoned in my nest and I was the first of my siblings that had hatched. As a new-born, I wandered around the vicinity, learning of my surroundings and taking in all the sights, sounds and smells that are associated with being alive. As the day became night, I travelled back to my nest, contented that I was given sentience to enjoy the environs only to find the rest of my siblings had been murdered before they were even born, and the culprit a vicious snake coyote. It chased after me and I ran for my life until I was cornered, nothing in front of me apart from a large chasm in the mountain. At this point, I made my first conscious decision: I would rather die from the fall then being eaten alive by the monster.
I came to in an odd house, and I was greeted by an odd-looking creature that I later came to recognise as a female human. I had sustained many injuries from my fall but I had managed to survive, my life completely in the hands of the person that was treating me. She called herself a witch, or in Foundation terminology, a practitioner of thaumaturgy and she had managed to lengthen her lifespan through the use of magic. I grew fond of the kind woman as she nursed me back to health and I refused to leave even when she shooed me away. She must have taken pity on me, because she granted me sapience later that day and the ability to convey my thoughts in eloquent speech. I must have spent many years with her and soon I began to realise the frailty of this form; it was growing old far too quickly and I still had many things to do with Maria, the witch.
We had fallen in love with each other, but I was a duck and she a human. I lamented that I would not be able to attend to her on her deathbed, so I set out on the forbidden quest to search for immortality with a simple goal: to grow old with my lover. One thing led to another and I became a respected researcher at the Foundation, and I managed to gain access to the spring of life. I studied its constitution and I am very close to lengthening my lifespan appropriately. I only digested a small amount of the liquid to allow me to further my research and the rest I held in a gland in my body, where I study it to figure out how to recreate its effects.
Top, my friend, now that you have heard my story, I am sure you understand the reason I can never stop with this project, I wish to see Maria again and hope to comfort her when she dies. She is a lonely woman that had been banished since centuries ago, the majority prejudiced against her kind because they can perform miracles, and all I desire is to be able to be by her side."
I wept a tear away, my heart moved by my friend's noble motivations. "Okay, Quest, I will no longer block your path. May you achieve whatever you want to and may you live long and happily." I left him to his own devices for the next few months, and soon I received news that Quest had indeed managed to grasp the essence of life and was able to manipulate it.
On the very same evening that Quest announced his accomplishment, a council meeting was immediately held. "All of you must already know the reason why you have been summoned here. It is the fated day to execute our plans." An oppressive silence filled the room. "Over the past few months, several members of the council has realised that Death has been manipulating us all this while. The spring of life did not dry up from the rising temperatures, and in retrospect, it is agreeably a very silly concept that one of the most everlasting existences would be wiped up by a mere weather phenomenon. No, we have been sabotaged. All the water has been siphoned away somewhere, and it seems like the death of the Foundation is the devil's manifesto."
"But men! And one woman! We are not the type to let anyone have their way with us, are we?" The shadowy figures around me chanted: "No! We are not!" "If Death is out to wipe us all out, today marks the day of declaration of war against Death, and we shall kill Death so none of us may ever suffer!" The voices grew louder: "We shall kill Death!" "Quest has crafted a weapon for us to use, and use we will, to conquer Death and make life ours!" The voices were now terrifyingly loud, and bloodlust accompanied these words: "We will conquer Death!" I trembled, and I felt so scared, small and alone. I felt as if I was a sheep in wolf's skin as I stood amongst these crazed lunatics.
"The date of Quest's assassination shall be tomorrow," and as the horrible voice enunciated every syllable of the dreadful line, I collapsed on the floor. I had been unable to say anything or object to their choices, and my friend would suffer due to this. I felt extremely nauseous, the contents of my stomach threatening to force its way out of my mouth, and my vision whirled. I resolved that I was not going to let these cowards that lived shallowly, and thus feared Death enough to attempt to kill him, to take the life of my friend who had only one pure intention. He deserved to live more than these fools. I hatched a plan to rescue Quest from the clutches of Death.
I sneaked into his dormitory at night, and shook him awake. "Quest, wake up! Quest!" He stirred awake, and he yawned as he stretched out his wings, pulling the muscles taut so as to realign his ruffled feathers. "What is happening, Top?" "The date of your execution has been decided, please follow me out of here," I whispered, pulling him out of his room. He recovered quickly when he heard of his impending doom.
