Mayhem On The Mountain

by Bluecatcinema

The Journey Of A Thousand Steps

An hour after receiving the alert, the remaining team members of the Alpha Force Squad gathered in the briefing room, as Elite and Ballista were waiting for them.

"What's happening, Elite?" Fury asked.

"Something serious, I'm betting." Fletcher added.

"Yeah, we only get called in like this when a major plot point is occurring, or about to transpire." Caboose added.

"I'm afraid we have urgent business up in the Frozen North." Elite held up the scroll. “An hour ago, a pigeon carrying this scroll arrived, and was delivered to me by Ballista.”

“Carrier pigeon? That is strange.” Survival mused, “I thought they became obsolete once the postal service and usage of dragon’s fire was established.”

“Clearly someone didn’t get the memo.” Fury scoffed. “Who’s the yutzes that need our help? Must be important to call us all here.”

“Oh it is.” Elite nodded, as he turned to Ballista, “Ballista, the book.”

“Here ya go, mate.” Ballista pulled out and set down the book, opening up to a page with the symbol of a fountain within a blue orb, not unlike the one on the wax seal earlier.

“Hmm, what’s all this?” Fletcher glanced at the image.

“That would be the symbol of the ‘Wise Lotus’.” Elite explained, “The wax seal that was on this scroll had it too. From what I have read, they are calling for our assistance, asking that we come to their monastery atop a peak within the Frozen North.”

“A monastery? As in monks?” Survival asked.

"That's right." Elite nodded. "Apparently, the monks who reside there have been receiving numerous death threats through letters.”

“Forefathers?” Fletcher questioned.

“It does not say. But it has them concerned. They fear that whoever is sending them these letters wishes to pay them a visit and steal their most valuable secrets.” Elite explained, “And Forefathers or not, we mustn’t let that happen.”

“And why is that? I mean, it sounds eff’d up to threaten a bunch of baldies on a mountain, but I don’t see how that’s an RDL matter.” Fury scoffed.

“These ain’t just any ‘baldies’, Fury.” Ballista glared.

“That is correct, Ballista.” Elite declared. “The Wise Lotus is a fellowship of monks that was formed way back before the three tribes united. For centuries, the fellowship had lived in solitude, rarely ever coming down to interact with the outside world. However, they do have an open door policy: if anyone wishes to join their brotherhood, they simply have to come to the monastery and will be welcomed with open hooves. But as for everypony else, that’s a different story...”

“Huh? Why’s that?” Survival frowned in confusion.

“Lots of red tape.” Ballista deadpanned. “Due to previous agreements and laws or what have you that the previous masters of the monastery had made with neighboring lands, the peak itself is considered sacred grounds. If there’s any business you wish to do in the monastery or in the immediate vicinity, be it a good-will visit, getting a search warrant, or even opening up a falafel stand, you have to jump through a lot of legal hoops. To do any less would risk a diplomatic incident.”

“Hence why they sent this letter to the RDL rather than the local authorities.” Elite explained.

“But I don’t understand. What’s so important about these ‘Wise Lotus’?” Fletcher asked.

“Well, the book does not go into much detail, but I have heard rumors.” Elite noted, “The Wise Lotus monks weren't just monks, they were guardians. The monastery, as the legends would have it, is a treasure trove of riches and knowledge, sought out by treasure hunters and historians alike. But none was sought out more than the ‘Fountain of Eternal Wisdom’.”

“A fountain?” Fury scoffed, “You mean like the ones you see in a park?”

“Not just any fountain, Fury.” Elite declared, pointing to the symbol in the book, “This fountain is the reason the Wise Lotus came to be. For centuries, the monks had guarded this fountain, for it contains a sacred power. It is said that anypony who drinks from the water that flows from this fountain will become all-knowing. Any and all questions the drinker has will have an answer. You would have ‘eternal wisdom’.”

“Wow… all-knowing?” Survival whispered, in awe at such a thing.

"Neat!" Caboose grinned, “That means I can finally beat Lars at Scrabble!”

“Oh come on.” Fury snorted, crossed his talons, “An oversized drinking fountain that makes anycreature an egg-head? Sounds like a bunch a’hooey to me.”

“Not how I would put it, but it does seem a bit far-fetched for there to be a fountain that can grant infinite knowledge to its drinkers.” Fletcher admitted,

“But Fletch!” Caboose whined, “I could beat Lars at Scrabble!”

“I understand the skepticism. But we are presented with a very rare opportunity.” Elite declared, “With this letter we received, the monks of the Wise Lotus had given us permission to come to their monastery. If this fountain is for real, we could negotiate with the monks to make use of it, even if only once. With the fountain’s power, we could finally ascertain the location of one of the supply tunnels that Nabudis told us about, maybe even find a way to secure a working pendant to open it. If we can succeed in doing all that…”

“We’ll find Infinity and bring down both Father and the Forefathers once and for all.” Ballista added, “So, I say it’s worth a shot. Besides, they need our help, and who are we to deny them, right?”

“Well, can’t argue with that logic.” Caboose shrugged.

“Indeed.” Elite nodded, “Now, Black and Sterling are still recuperating, so it will be the four of you who will go to the monastery, and get to the bottom of these ‘threats’.”

“Four of us?” Survival lit up, “Wait, you mean you want me to-”

“Join Fletcher and the others on this mission, yes.” Elite finished his sentence with a smirk, “I do believe now is a better time than any to give you some on-hooves experience out in the field.”

“But are you sure I’m ready?” Survival asked, apprehensive, “I’m still in training.”

“Relax, mate, you’re going to a monastery, not a war-zone.” Ballista said soothingly. “We’re not the type to throw ponies in the deep end. Chances are, you won’t even see combat, not when you have these three backing you up.” Ballista gestured to Fletcher and the others.

“He’s right, you know.” Fletcher nodded, “You’ll have nothing to worry about with us by your side.”

“Yeah, we’ll make sure you don’t die an excruciating, horrifying death.” Caboose smiled cheerfully.

“Oh, he won’t.” Fury declared, glaring at Caboose, before glaring at Survival. “Just as long as you keep your head on your shoulders and don’t do anything stupid.”

“See, there you go.” Ballista waved his hoof.

“I have confidence that you will perform admirably, Survival.” Elite grinned, “You will all depart for the mountain within an hour. Farewell, and good luck.”

"You can count on us, sir." Fletcher nodded.

"Of course he can." Caboose smirked. "We're the main focus of the story now, so we've gotta win in the end."

"Let's go prep." Fury rolled his eyes.

"My first mission." Survival noted, still a bit apprehensive. "I'll have to do my best..."

As the group made to leave the room, Elite stepped in front of Fletcher.

"Fletcher, may I have a quick word?" He requested.

“Oh, um, of course.” Fletcher nodded, a bit confused, as he turned to the others, “I’ll catch up with you guys.”

"Okay." Caboose nodded. "That totally doesn't sound like anything that will lead to a new story tangent!"

Fury clicked his beak irritably at Caboose's words. Survival almost said something, but thought better of it.

As the others left, Fletcher turned to Elite.

“What’s on your mind, sir?” Fletcher asked.

“I have a little side mission that I’d like to carry out while you’re at the monastery.” Elite declared, “Regarding how to combat Silas’ new form.”

“Yeah. Tell us, mate, how familiar are you with ‘aura’?” Ballista questioned.

“It sounds vaguely familiar.” Fletcher mused, “I may have come across it some time during my studies back at the Norhayan Academy. Isn't it some kind of lost, arcane magic?"

“Not exactly.” Elite replied, as he picked up the book from earlier, “According to Esoteric Magicks and Where to Find Them, it is a form of spiritual, magical energy that emanates from our very beings. While it has faded into obscurity over time, there have been stories of ponies who are capable of using this ‘aura’.”

“Hmm, I do not mind a history lesson, sir.” Fletcher said awkwardly, “But what does this have to do with the monastery, or Silas for that matter?”

“As it turns out, the Wise Lotus were the ones first recorded to be capable of using ‘aura’.” Elite showed him the page once more, “For centuries, the monks of the Wise Lotus had trained in the art of using aura, wielding this mysterious energy to ward off those who would threaten them or the fountain. It’s a nigh impossible art to master, but it is read that aura is one of the strongest forms of arcane magic imaginable.”

“And as you are well aware, we need all the magic firepower we can get if we have any chance of taking Silas down.” Ballista added.

“Which is why I am asking you this.” Elite declared, “If the book is correct, then there might be some monks up at the monastery with the power of aura. If you could find a pony with this power, and convince them to lend their aid, it may prove to be the equalizer needed to defeat Silas, and potentially any number of future threats.”

“I will do what I can.” Fletcher nodded, “For Black and Sterling.”

"That's all I ask." Elite smiled. "Now hurry along, before the rest of the team wonder where you are."

"Yes, sir!" Fletcher saluted, before rushing out of the room.

"You do realize that's gonna be quite the long odds, right?" Ballista asked Elite. "I mean, there’s gotta be a reason that aura was in a book about ‘esoteric’ magic. Do we even know if the Wise Lotus even still practices aura? And even if they do, monks usually become monks to get away from all the violence in the world. I just don’t see any of them wanting to throw in their lot with the military.”

“I realize that, Ballista.” Elite sighed, “But we have to try, at least. With Silas out there, we need to do something, anything that could give us a sliver of a chance of evening the playing field.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Ballista grimaced, “Well, worst case scenario, we always have Caboose and a bunch of Unicorns to fall back on. In fact, if we could reverse-engineer those staves from Applewood…”

"Every little bit helps, Ballista." Elite nodded. "If this fountain truly does exist, we could be on the verge of finally stopping the Forefathers. If ever there was a time to pull out all the stops, this is it."

"Truer words were never spoken." Ballista nodded solemnly. "And desperate times call for desperate measures... Let's hope Fletcher can wow at least one of those guys with his sales pitch..."

“I have faith in his negotiation skills.” Elite smiled, “Wouldn’t have given him this task if I didn’t think he could do it. Though only time will tell if he will...

Soon after, Survival had returned to Triage, informing him of what had transpired.

"This is it." He declared, still in his half-excited, half-concerned state. "My first mission, You said it would come."

"But I didn't think it would come this soon." Triage admitted.

"I just hope I can handle things." Survival mused. "It doesn't sound like that big of a job, but even so..."

"Okay, here's your problem." Triage interrupted. "You're getting into your head, psyching yourself out. If you think you're not up to the challenge, then you'll start to act like it. You'll second-guess yourself, make mistakes you normally wouldn't... all because you're not sure you can handle the job."

"So what do you recommend I do?" Survival asked.

"I went through more-or-less the same thing on my first few missions." Triage admitted. "It caused me to make more than a few mistakes. But eventually, I learned that I needed to focus on helping my team, aiding and caring for them, making sure they could succeed. Before long, I was too busy thinking about them to think about myself. You could try to do the same."

"I guess I can give it a shot." Survival shrugged. "I'd sure hate for them to end up like… Hamm and Brightdale…”

"Not quite how I'd put it." Triage frowned. "Just try to focus on helping your team. In the meantime, I'll take care of things here."

"Understood." Survival nodded. "I'll do my best to make sure we all make it back in one piece."

"That's the ticket." Triage smiled, as his protege rushed to the preparation room to gear up with the others.

The trip up to the Frozen North was a long one. The group took an armored carriage for the first leg of the journey. Then, as they neared the trail up to the mountain where the monastery was located, they began to move on foot, all wearing winter clothing and backpacks.

“Okay, can somecreature tell me why we're doing this?" Fury shivered. "Just wandering around in the arctic terrain, rather than staying in our nice warm carriage?"

“It’s all a part of the monastery’s many rules.” Fletcher revealed, pulling out a small notebook, “Ballista took the liberty of jotting them down for us before we left. Essentially, it is decreed that anypony who wishes to visit the monastery, regardless of reason, must ascend the mountain by foot. Use of flight, magic, or any other methods are explicitly forbidden. No exceptions.”

“Seriously?” Fury groaned, “Why would they have such a stupid rule?!”

“It could be for safety measures. This monastery is guarding a fountain that could give you ‘eternal wisdom’ after all.” Survival suggested.

“Supposedly.” Fury growled. “That’s just great. We’re not even there yet, and we're at risk of getting frostbite."

"It's not so bad." Caboose said, ever optimistic. "At least those nice yaks gave us some directions."

"Yeah, yeah." Fury shrugged. "Let's just hope we don't have that much of a trek left..."

After a few twists and turns, the group discovered something that dashed Fury's hopes considerably: an ancient stone staircase, leading up the mountain, until it disappeared from sight.

“Whoa… that’s a lot of stairs.” Survival gaped.

“Well, this keeps getting better and better.” Fury growled.

“Yeah… I mean, long, ancient stairways are so last century!” Caboose tutted with a ‘feminine’ wave of a hoof.

“Okay, before we get started, there’s something I have to do.” Fletcher reached into his backpack, and pulled out a case with the RDL logo and set it down. He then pulled out a mirror and tapped it.

Meanwhile, back in the lab at HQ, Armory was busy looking over one of the magic staves salvaged from the raid on Applewood, as Ballista had asked him to earlier.

"What a fascinating little device." Armory smiled as he tinkered with the staff. "This must be the firing mechanism..."

As he attempted to gentle prise apart one of the componants, Armory rteceived a shock.

"Oww!" He yelped. "Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. A lighter touch may be required here."

Suddenly, the mirror on the work desk beside him began to buzz. Armory, shaking his burnt hoof, picked up the mirror and answered it.

“Armory speaking.” Armory greeted.

“Hey, Armory. We’re at the foot of the peak. Ballista told me you wanted me to call you the moment we got there?” Fletcher declared.

“Oh, excellent. I was waiting for you to call.” Armory smirked, “First things first, did you bring out the case?”

“Yeah, it’s sitting right beside me.” Fletcher glanced at it, “Care to explain what’s inside?”

“In just a moment, my friend.” Armory smiled, “Just waiting for the others to-”

Just as he spoke, Elite and Ballista came into the lab, followed by none other than Black and Sterling, the latter having been cleared to walk, albeit with assistance.

"Come on, kid." Black urged, holding Sterling up as they walked. "Don't make me do everything myself."

"Don't flatter yourself, old timer." Sterling joked.

“Ah, there you all are.” Armory declared, “Glad all of you could make it. Especially you, Sterling.”

“Well, I didn’t have anything better to do.” Sterling rolled his eyes.

“What is it that you called us for, Armory?” Elite asked.

“Yeah, you said you had something important to show us.” Black declared, before noting a TV monitor on the desk. “And what’s with the TV?”

“I hope you didn’t call us to watch one of those ‘animes’ you got exported from Japon.” Ballista grimaced, “I’m still trying to suppress the memory of ‘Many Tentacles Predators from Tartarus’.”

“I assure you it’s not that. Though thank you for looking down on my hobbies.” Armory huffed, “But back to the point at hand…” He turned to the mirror. “Fletcher, if you would, please open the case.”

“Alright.” Fletcher nodded, as he did as such, undoing the latches.

The case opened up, revealing what looked like a metallic model of a red and blue tropical bird.

“...A bird?” Fury raised a brow.

“Armory!” Caboose gaped in outrage at the mirror in Fletcher’s mirror, “How could you! How could you consort yourself with those smugglers and that evil cockatoo?!”

“Caboose, it’s not actually a bird.” Survival shook his head, looking at it closely. “It looks like a robot.”

“Not just a robot.” Armory smirked confidently, as he pulled out a remote control device, with a microphone sticking out of it “Observe.”

With a push of the button, the robot bird’s wings sprung out, and the miniature turbines within whirred to life. Fletcher and the others stepped back in surprise as the turbines carried the mechanical macaw into the air.

The bird’s eyes began to glow. Back at the headquarters, the nearby TV monitor turned on, showing a clear image of the surprised quartet.

“What the flap?” Fury gaped.

“Smile for the bird, guys.” A familiar Germane voice emitted from the beak of the robotic bird, “You’re on live.”

“UGH! The bird, it speaks!” Caboose leapt into the air, forcing Survival to catch him.

“No, Caboose, it’s still a robot.” Survival rolled his eyes as he immediately dropped him.

“Gentlecreatures at home, gentlecreatures on the mountain.” Armory declared to both audiences, “I present to you, Der Rote Rio, or as English speakers would call it, The Red Rio.”

“So you made a new drone?” Ballista declared.

“Nope, this is the fully realized version of that slapped-together kite drone I’ve made for when that fiasco on the Alpacian island.” Armory explained, “Sterling here actually gave me the idea, telling me about this mechanical owl drone that his friend Loveless had made. Figured I’d do my own spin on the formula.”

“But why though?” Survival asked, a bit concerned, “I thought this wasn’t going to be a dangerous mission.”

“Well, that’s our hope.” Armory explained through the microphone, which then spoke through the Rio. “However, ever since the close shave with Broker and his men, I was worried that if something were to go wrong in the future and you guys really needed help, we might not be able to make it in time. Furthermore, I heard that technology and communication devices were frowned upon by the Wise Lotus. Meaning we might not be able to talk freely once you get up there… which is why this pretty little number is here.”

“Well, I gotta say, it is rather impressive.” Fletcher looked it over, before frowning, “But will it be able to handle flying around the mountain?”

“Oh, sure it can. This baby can fly for miles upon miles. Comes equipped with the state of the line microphone for recording and communication, fiberglass optics for visual, and even have tasers built in, just in case.” Armory said proudly.

“Hmm, very nice.” Survival mused, “...But why did you base its design off a Scarlet Macaw? Won’t a tropical bird appear way out of place in a cold, snowy mountain?”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I thought of that.” Armory smirked, pushing a button.

In response, the plating on the Rio began to flip like dominos, turning all the red on the macaw into white.

“Now we have a white macaw!” Armory declared.

“But that still makes it a tropical bird!” Survival protested.

“But now it will blend in.” Armory shot back, “Honestly, Survival, I’m not an idiot.”

“Of course you’re not.” Survival stepped back, apologetic, “I just-”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Fletcher soothed him. “I highly doubt the monks up there will even look for a bird, let alone a tropical one.”

“Speaking of which, you guys best get a move on.” Elite stepped forward, speaking into the microphone on the controls, “It looks like you’ll have a long trek ahead of you.”

“We’ll be watching over you guys.” Ballista joined him, “So be careful.”

“And one more thing! Hold onto that case. It doubles as a beacon for the Rio to follow on auto-pilot!” Armory explained.

With that, the Red Rio took to the air, flying upwards.

"Well, we've come this far." Fletcher sighed, putting the case back into his backpack

"And we still got a job to do." Fury shook his head. "Lucky us..."

"On the bright side, our calves are gonna look super swole after this." Caboose said brightly.

"Come on, you guys." Survival urged. "The sooner we start, the sooner we finish..."

The quartet began their arduous journey up the stone steps.

Back at the lab, Armory pressed another button.

“And that’s the auto-pilot.” Armory declared. “The Rio will be circling around them while they make the climb. In the meantime, I’ll see about getting the visual feed set up in the comms room.”

“You did a great job, Armory. As always.” Black smiled.

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t know much about Loveless’s own drone, but I think he’d be impressed by something like this.” Sterling admitted.

“Thanks, guys. You know, one of the reasons I made this was so you two would be able to watch, what with being forced to sit out and all.” Armory declared.

“Well, this drone will surely be a boon for us while our comrades are out and about.” Elite grinned.

“Although,, be honest, why did you go with a macaw?” Ballista asked, “Wouldn’t an owl have been a more fitting bird for surveillance?”

“Oh no, I don’t do owls.” Armory growled. “They are jerks. Hooting all nights, crapping out their own beaks, and engaging in race wars, especially those Tytos! Those Neighzi-wannabe buckers!”

“...What are you going on about?” Sterling frowned.

“Yeah, you really need to get out of the lab more.” Black grimaced.

"Just as long as I don't have to go anywhere near owls..." Armory shuddered. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Armory departed, leaving most of the group nonplussed, save for Black.

"Good to see things around here are just as crazy as ever." He chuckled.

"I'm almost glad the others didn't get to hear that." Sterling admitted. "Let's hope they don't run into anything nearly as crazy up on that mountain..."

Meanwhile, the squad were continuing their long trek up the stone staircase.

Fletcher and Survival were several steps ahead of the group, both stallions having the stamina from training to keep a steady pace.

Fury on the other hand…

“Hoo… hoo…” Fury panted, sluggishly making his way up the steps. While he was not out-of-shape, the griffon was more used to flying long-distance than walking, “I swear to Faust… if whoever’s threatening those monks doesn’t kill them, I will…”

“So, Elite wants you to look out for a monk who can use aura?” Survival asked, in the midst of a conversation with Fletcher.

“That is right.” Fletcher nodded, “I’m honestly surprised that such a thing exists.”

“Yeah. It sounds like one of those things that quacks and scam artists say to get creatures to buy their essential oils or crystals. Not some sort of ‘supermagic’.” Survival scoffed.

“Well, if Elite thinks it can help us stop Silas, I’m willing to try anything.” Fletcher said firmly, “I just hope the monk in question will be willing to help us…”

“Hey, guys!” Fury called out to them, huffing, “Please tell me… we’re at least… halfway… there…”

"I'm afraid not." Fletcher shook his head, too focused on the ascent to look behind him. "I'm still seeing nothing but mist ahead."

"Oh, fantastic..." Fury groaned.

"Despair not, Fury." Survival said boldly, also walking ahead and not looking back. "We can do this."

"Survival's right." Fletcher agreed. "We just have to keep going."

"Easy for you to say." Fury scowled. "I'm already so exhausted. Feels like I'm carrying a rock on my back..."

"Please don't start complaining, Fury." Survival rolled his eyes. "This trip is hard on all of us, but you don't hear us complaining."

"Or Caboose." Fletcher added. "Right, Caboose?"

They heard no answer.

"Caboose?" Survival asked.

This time, an answer came in the form of a loud snore.

"Hrrrrk!"

"Caboose, are you sleeping?" Fletcher frowned.

"Hrrrrk!" Caboose snored, exactly as loud as the first time.

"How can you be sleeping?" Survival gaped, stopping momentarily at the sheer impossibility of the situation. "We're walking upwards, and you're still going up with us!"

"You'd be surprised what weird things this guy can-" Fury stopped mid-sentence. "...He's sleeping on my back, isn't he?"

Fletcher and Survival glanced back, and saw that Fury was right; the sleeping Caboose had somehow managed to construct a makeshift bed out of his and Fury's backpacks, all without Fury noticing... until now.

“Hrrrrk!” Caboose continued snoring.

"Seriously?!" Fury cringed, “I’ve been walking up all these steps with this dumbass on my back?!

"How did he even accomplish that without you noticing?" Survival gaped.

“Peck if I know!” Fury snarled. “This guy’s not normal! I don’t know anything about how he does anything!”

“Yeah, it takes a while to get used to Caboose’s eccentricities.” Fletcher admitted.

"If it doesn't drive you crazy first." Fury added, glaring at the dozing Caboose. "Hey, wake up!"

"Huh, what?" Caboose jolted awake. "What's goin' on? Are we there yet?!"

“No! Because I’m busy hauling your sorry ass!” Fury glared at his unwanted passenger, “Now, how about you get off my back, and do some of the walking yourself?!”

"Oh, but I'm so comfortable." Caboose complained. "Besides, this climb looks like a real pain in the flank."

"It is!" Fury seethed.

"Then you understand the bind I'm in." Caboose shrugged.

"Get off my back!" Fury yelled, trying desperately to throw Caboose off.

"Why don't you come up here and make me?" Caboose retorted defiantly, somehow managing to stay in place, despite the haphazard construction and precarious position of his makeshift bed.

"Because I'm not double-jointed, doofus!" Fury growled, angrily trying to reach behind himself.

"Easy there, Fury." Survival admonished him. "We can't afford to waste any more energy than we already have."

"Survival's right." Fletcher agreed. "We must press on."

"Yeah, Fury." Caboose smirked. "Besides, you made it this far, so you can handle the rest."

"Yeah, yeah." Fury growled. "Just don't be surprised when I make you return the favor on the way back..."

The upward trek continued, as the group slowly but surely neared the top.

"I think I can see the top of this flight..." Survival said breathlessly.

"Almost there..." Fletcher declared.

"Finally..." Fury groaned.

"Da, da, da, da, da, da..." Caboose chimed in.

To the others' surprise, Caboose (still perched on Fury's back) was now wearing a gray tracksuit, a black wool cap, and white hoofless gloves.

"Trottin' harder..." He muttered melodically. "Steppin' higher... Won't be long now..."

"Nice tune." Fury snarked. "Make it up yourself?"

"Actually, I heard it when I was a kid, during a trip to Fillydelphia." Caboose admitted. "It was really catchy. Almost iconic, actually..."

"It is a nice song." Survival admitted.

"I think I heard it once before..." Fletcher mused. "But I'll reflect on exactly when later. For now, let's focus on finishing this climb."

"Gladly." Fury wheezed.

Little by little, driven by legs that felt more and more like lead weights, the trio of climbers (with one passenger) cleared the last few steps, and finally reached an even path again.

"We did it..." Survival groaned, hunched over and panting.

"We sure did." Fletcher dropped to his haunches, and began rubbing his sore leg muscles.

"Yeah..." Fury hobbled forward, before faceplanting into the ground. "Take that, stairs..." He raised a clenched talon into the air, the middle claw sticking out.

"What is that gesture?" Fletcher frowned.

"Must be a Griffon thing..." Survival shrugged.

"Oh, yeah!" Caboose suddenly leapt off Fury's back, and began dancing a victory dance. "Victory is mine!"

"Say what?" Fury raised his head, an indignant scowl on his beak. "I carried you all the way here!"

"He's right." Survival agreed. "You really have nothing to celebrate here."

"Doesn't matter how you reach the top." Caboose grinned. "Just so long as you can say you could see everything from atop the glorious peak..."

Fury glanced at Caboose… before faceplanting again.

“Hate… Hate... Hate!” Fury groaned into the ground.

"At least we can finally see our destination." Fletcher noted, pointing out a nearby structure, built right into the mountain.

"And a little something more." Survival noted.

A small group of monks were approaching the group, Mantra and Ube leading them.

"Greetings." Mantra declared regally. "I take it you are the security detail the Royal Defense Legion saw fit to send to defend our monastery."

"That we are." Survival nodded, as he stepped forth, "I am Survival Horror. This is Fletcher Ulysses, Caboose Napoleon, and Fury Xaldin."

"A pleasure to meet you, sirs and ladies." Fletcher smiled.

"Hi, guys!" Caboose waved. "...Don't you get cold in those pajamas?"

"Hey." Fury said as he struggled to stand. "Please tell me you guys have vows of silence..." He glared at Caboose.

"I am Mantra, master of this monastery." Mantra introduced himself. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance. And I hope your stay here will be pleasant, and not too time-consuming."

"You and me both." Fury shivered. "I got a feeling you monks don't have much in the way of central heating..."

"We have some methods of warming ourselves." Mantra admitted. "But there'll be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I'm sure you must be hungry and tired from your long climb."

"Yeah, I'm starved." Caboose yawned. "And tired..."

Fury threw another glare Caboose's way.

"We have been on a long journey." Fletcher admitted.

"Especially considering we had to walk most of the way." Survival noted. "As per your order's requirements."

“Yeah…” Fury moved his glare to Mantra.

“I do apologize for the inconvenience, but it is a necessary requirement.” Manta declared, “We prefer to retain our solitude. If we had visitors flying and driving and skiing around your mountain, that privacy would not last long, and our days of quiet contemplation would be at an end."

"Understandable." Fletcher nodded. "We all need some privacy every now and then."

"Ya don't have to tell me that." Caboose smirked. "Not when I grew up with seven big brothers."

"Come now, honored guests." Mantra urged. "We can continue this talk inside. We will take you to the dining area first, then show you to your guest quarters."

"Food and bed." Survival smiled. "Just what the doctor ordered..."

"Hope they're stocked up on food." Fury declared. "I feel like I could eat an entire diner's worth of chow."

"I'm looking forward to a nice, warm bed." Fletcher stated.

"Me, too." Caboose added. "Pillow fort, here I come..."

"Please, follow us." Mantra urged.

Mantra and the other monks led the group inside.

However, while it did not look like it… they were being watched. But not by a method you would expect. To one, everypony and everything was a hue of blue, with the sky itself being black. The view then left the entrance to the monastery, retreating through a small opening within the mountain a few feet from the stairs.

Through the eyes of the beholder, the image zigzagged back and forth through what appeared to be a complex network of caves deep within the mountain, before ultimately ending right in front of him, in a small cavernous room.

The beholder in question was a mysterious figure, it’s rear hooves crossed in a meditative position, garbed in a ragged cloak. The figure suddenly gasped, having seemingly snapped out of a trance… then they gave a dark chuckle.

“About damn time…” The mysterious figure mused, “Now that they’re here, I will finally get what I want... “