The dawn broke over the horizon, the early morning light spraying across the mountains. Mountain sunrises, Hurricane reflected, always look the best. Though speed was a necessity, that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the rising sun. There was something magical about the sunrise. The fact that mere unicorns, working together, could give life to such a powerful thing each and every day was something to be amazed of, and said volumes about how much easier it was to accomplish things together than alone.
More practical, though, it was warmer. Though like most pegasi, she was resistant to cold, she didn’t relish in it like so many of the new ponies did. Long years spent fighting in the bitter winter of the Old Kingdom assured that. The blast of warmth from the sun transcended mere heat. it was a symbol; a powerful, brilliant beacon of hope that showed that companionship, no, friendship could come from anywhere, at any time.
That thought, however, didn’t stay for long in her mind. She was more occupied on squinting northwards, searching for the next landmark. It was not long in coming. Two peaks loomed on the horizon, taller than any other. The Twin Mountains, Argotiel and Argotiem. The tallest peaks in the known world. By some divine happenstance, they sat just next to each other directly atop the east-west line of the Sleipnir range, one to the east and one to the west, Argoteil and Argoteim respectively. The Gateway To The North, they were called, and The Fangs Of The Earth, and other names besides. In Equestria, they were known as Sunrise and Sunset, translations of the old Equus.
A convenient ledge presented itself on the eastern side of Argotiel and Hurricane touched softly down, her hooves making a pronounced tap on the hard stone. Riffling through her left saddlebag, she grimaced in irritation. She was down to her last meal of rations. Though she'd heard the stories, she hadn't expected the trip across the Sleipnirs to take so long, or the land to be so barren. She'd found nothing on the jagged peaks, not a blade of grass poking from the stony crevasses. It was a wonder how anything lived here; she supposed they ate what little could be found, by extension making it impossible for her to find anything.
She chewed disconsolately at the dry, brittle grass, swallowing it down quickly before taking her eyes off of the sunrise gleaming in the distance and shifting her attention to the mountain that loomed above her. Her eyes narrowed. It was a perfectly clear day, not a cloud in sight. If she made it to the top, she might be able to see what lay ahead with a bit more clarity. Shedding her bag and spreading her wings, she leapt into the air, hovering for a moment before darting up at high speed, her hooves nearly skimming the stone of the mountain.
By the time she reached the peak, she was short of breath, gasping for oxygen in the thin air. If she was a unicorn or an earth pony, she would undoubtedly be dead by now. As it was, she only had a few minutes before she passed out. Landing again, she simply stood for a moment. No pony in memory had ever reached the summit of the Twin Mountains. A wild laugh escaped her gasping lips. Now that she was atop the enormous spar of earth, she couldn't deny that at least part of her desire to come up here had simply been to do something nopony had ever done before. A few more chuckles came from her mouth before she trotted to the edge of a sheer cliff, gazing down at the land before her.
The mountains stretched out to the east, west and south as far as the eye, bands of gray and black capped with the tall white snowcaps. The monochromatic landscape rippled away from her in patterns that mesmerized and confused the eye, a few small clouds, invisible from lower down hovering in the distance, far away from her, casting a shadow over the brilliant white and casting it in shade. She turned, facing north, her eyes following the intricate patterns of the mountain passes that stretched out beneath her. She smiled suddenly. In the distance, on the horizon, a tiny line of green could be seen. A day more, maybe two, of hard flying would likely see her out of the mountains.
Hurricane began to grow lightheaded and realized that it was time to leave. Leaping from the cliff, she bulleted downwards, her eyes squinted against the wind, as the land beneath her began to draw into sharp focus. Seconds flew by, and she reached the bottom, pulling out of her steep dive into a more moderate, but still extremely fast, glide down the mountain. The rocky crags flashed by as blurs of stone, and as she gradually pulled into a slowing ascent, she angled to the left, curving and spiraling around the mountain until she located the ledge where she'd left her bags.
Slinging them onto her back and settling them into the grooves made for that exact purpose in her armor, she faced north once more.