Apple Bloom and Pipsqueak come to a stop at the top of a rocky hill in the light of the shrouded sun. The air is colder and tastes of frozen rot, and in the distance is an open field shrouded in mist that ends at a barrier of sharp, crystal-like mountains, and further beyond are black silhouettes of larger mountains. The clouds get darker as they get farther, and like a divine planning, a ring of dark orange and green swirl above the center of what lays beyond the mountains.

Apple Bloom's throat is clogged with a lump, and she clenches Angurvadal's handle tight as she scans the condemned landscape.

“The Frozen North... I hope the others find a safer route,” says Apple Bloom.

Pipsqueak places a hand on her shoulder and smiles. “Don't worry. Sprinkles will take care of him.”

Apple Bloom hides her skepticism with a nod and looks at Pipsqueak.

“Do you think we'll see any of them again?” asks Apple Bloom.

“Of course we will. You're a Smith and I'm a Spot, the two toughest Foaling families around! No better people for the quest!” says Pipsqueak.

Apple Bloom smiles, feeling a tiny bit better, and she grabs Pipsqueak's arm.

“I'm glad you came with me,” says Apple Bloom.

Pipsqueak returns the smile, and her hand slides off his arm and with determined steps she begins her descent into Hell.

Star Swirl sits in a chair, his eyes focused on the sleeping figures of Striker and Mjölna, both of which are on a bed with thick blankets and their travels packs next to them. With a deep sigh, Star Swirl gets up from his chair, puts on his pack, grabs his sword and walks down the candle lit stairs as quietly as he can. He makes his way to the desk near a worn door and taps his fingers in front of a sleeping colt. The colt jerks awake, blinks, then looks at Star Swirl.

“Oh, checking out, mister?” asks the colt.

“No. I'm leaving my party, so reduce the price to two.”

“But my father said-”

Star Swirl taps his sword, and the colt gulps and quickly scratches out the price, replacing the nine with a six.

“Thank you,” says Star Swirl.

He takes a step towards the door, but is stopped when the colt calls out to him.

“Excuse me, sir, but where are you going? If you don't mind me asking,” says the colt.

“I'm going North,” replies Star Swirl.

“Really? What's up North?”

Star Swirl hesitates. “Purpose.”