Captain Klondike pulled the top of his parka back from his olive-drab head, and wiped the sweat from his brow with one forehoof. His gray mane blew in the high altitude winds. Replacing the hood, he adjusted his glare visor and surveyed the area beyond the ridge he and his team had just scaled.

The mid-afternoon sun left little to the imagination when observing the breathtaking terrain. From this vantage, atop the highest peak in the snow-covered mountain range, the view continued out into the infinity of the great white north. When he told one of the pegasi to take off, he would have to remind them not to rush; even a minor injury out here could be fatal. Though... it would be a beauty way to go.

“Magnificent,” Klondike said as he took in the landscape. “Sergeant Hail!”

“Yes Sir,” the arctic-blue pegasus stallion said with a hearty salute.

“Scout the descent,” Klondike ordered. “We don’t need any injuries this far out from the empire.”

“I know Sir,” Hail said. “If somepony gets hurt this far out, it’d take days to get them back to the nearest outpost, even by emergency chariot.” He unconsciously looked to his saddlebags to make sure that the piece of collapsible survival gear was still securely stowed.

“Yes,” Klondike said. “That goes for you too; safety first. I’d hate to have to turn us back on account of a preventable accident.”

“Of course Sir,” Hail said with a salute. He then double checked his saddlebags, his cold-weather gear, his goggles, and launched into the brisk breeze.

Smiling, Klondike watched as Hail advanced down the mountainside. He then turned his head back to the others. “Sergeant Tundra, Sergeant Frost!”

The two mares approached.

“Sir,” Tundra saluted. Her thick clothing covered all of her normal evergreen coloration, but her deep earth pony voice was unmistakable.

“Sir,” Frost lilted in a merry tone. She had foregone the customary cold-weather gear in favor of her own protective unicorn enchantments. With white fur and mane, she almost completely blended into their surroundings. Only her glacier-blue eyes stood out against the snow.

“Have a look ladies,” Klondike said. “Best view you’ve ever seen.” He waited as they took positions to either side of him and watched them as they absorbed the stunning sights.

“Imagine it,” Klondike said. “The two-dozen of us are the first ponies to travel this far!” He couldn’t keep the smile from his muzzle, not that they could see it through his scarf. “They’ll write about us in history books for sure!”

“No doubt,” Tundra said with confidence.

“Oh,” Frost chimed in, “I hope they get a picture of all of us afterwards!” She grabbed the two in a big hug. “We’ve all become such close friends these last few weeks, and I want everypony in Equestria to know when we return!”

Chuckling, Klondike returned the hug. “C’mon ladies,” he said. Let’s get the others up here so that they can get a look. Everypony on this expedition has earned a look at this resplendence.”

[hr]

Sergeant Hail’s hood was missing. His parka’s fabric only reached to his neck, a ragged line flapping against his fur, which was several shades more white than normal.

Extreme injury, with likely internal bleeding, will do that to a pony.

“Come on Frost!” he shouted at the half-frozen Unicorn. “We’re already halfway up the ridge. We just need to get to the top. Then we’re home free!”

“Hail,” Frost said in a tone of dejected hopelessness, “we both know that’s a lie.” She leaned against a large icy boulder. “If we make it, if I can send a magical signal, it’ll take them a week to get to us.”

Hail shook his head. “No,” he said forcefully. “We can’t think like that. We’ll get back, we have to tell everypony!”

“Tell them what?!” Frost shrieked. “They’ll think we’re insane! Can you even explain what happened? I can’t!” She hugged herself tightly. “Maybe we have gone insane...”

“I saw Klondike when he came back,” Hail said. “He kept saying that it was so beautiful. His eyes... they were like when we reached this summit, only they were more... intense. When Drift said she needed a minute—” He covered his eyes with his hooves in a futile attempt to block out the imagery.

“He came at her with the shovel,” Frost said, her tone of voice as dead as Drift when she hit the snow. “And the others who went—”

“We need to go,” Hail said. “If any of the others are still after us—”

“You’re right,” Frost said as she immediately straightened. “But.” Her voice had changed into a more fearful tone. “How’s your wing?”

Hail flinched at the reminder. He looked back at the splint attached to his bandaged left wing. “Still hurts,” he said. “Tundra hit it pretty hard.” Seeing the fear on Frost’s face, he tried to smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you here.” He patted one of his saddlebags. “I still have the emergency chariot. Once we reach the summit, the next mountain over is much lower in altitude. I can try to glide us to it even if my wing isn’t one hundred percent.”

The declaration was enough to motivate Frost into action again.

It took the two ponies two grueling hours to trudge to the top of the peak. They took a moment to look back over the lands that had so recently captivated them with its sublime scenery. Their only feelings now were of heartbreak and horror.

Hail opened his saddlebag and withdrew the parcel within. One tug on the red grip and it magically unfolded into a harness and attached chariot. He undid the splint and grimaced as he stretched the sprained limb out. “Oh, that hurts,” he said. “Hop in.”

As Hail strapped himself in, and Frost moved to the rear of the chariot, she looked back. “What will we tell them?” she asked.

“Some places,” Hail said, “are better left uncharted.”