Horse Of The Rising Sun

Chapters

1 - Benedictine
2 - Camillian
3 - Carthusian
4 - Camaldolese
5 - Franciscan
6 - Piarist
7 - Teutonic
8 - Jesuit
9 - Carmelite
10 - Fatebenefratelli
11 - Crosier
12 - Barnabite
13 - Trappist
14 - Dominican
15 - Mercedarian
16 - Trinitarian

1 - Benedictine

Long, long ago - before Princesses and almost before Equestria - the daily paths of the sun and moon were the responsibility of the unicorns. Each morning, those with the strongest magic set themselves to continue rotating the wheels of heaven and provide another day for the world.

This left them exhausted and taxed to their utmost, for the sun and the moon resisted the unicorns' foreign touch. Sometimes the exhaustion was too great - the strain would blow out a unicorn's magic permanently, leaving them forever without the use of their horn.

Golden Rays knew the risk - it was worth it. For newborn Equestria to see another day, he was willing to shoulder his share of the burden. It was part of his destiny, he knew that with certainty. The cutie mark on his flank - of gleaming rays shining down through the clouds - made it clear.

He waited with the others, cool air of the autumn night ruffling his teal coat. The Raising Circle gave no protection from the elements for fear that even the slightest obstacle might make a difference in their task: instead it was a wide and open rocky expanse across the flattened top of a hill. The six of them stood in their designated places - ones impossible to miss from the well-worn grooves in the stone, left by the hooves of hundreds of their predecessors. To Golden's left was Scarlet Song; to his right, Lucky Wish. As always, Starswirl stood on the far side: in the west-most position and looking east so he could ensure the sun's rising angle was perfect.

The running (if quiet) joke among the others was wondering which would burn out first - Starswirl's magic or his eyes from staring at the sun each morning.

One of the attendants rang the first chime - a single D-sharp. It was their signal to gather their magic and prepare themselves for the Raising.

Golden closed his eyes as he always did, trying to shut out everything but the feel of his magic. The only sense he didn't try to pull inwards was his hearing to listen for the next chime.

It came a minute later - a B note. As one, the six unicorns reached their magic out into the heavens.

They had lasted a long time as a group, not needing a replacement for almost three months. Most cadres needed to have somepony rotated out after only two - they had held strong far past that. It gave their sextet a level of coordination that was usually missing: they knew their roles and their places and their timings. Golden's magic was a little slower than the rest to cross the great distance between ground and sky, but when he grasped his quadrant - the lower right - he did so with greater strength than the others. That's why he shared the base with Starswirl - they were the ones that directed the push and kept the sun's path steady.

Sweat prickled Golden's coat even through the season's chill. It always did. The sun was heat personified, after all. Even merely touching it with his magic was enough to carry the sweltering feel of a blast furnace down to the Raising Circle - heat driven home as a dry leaf that had blown onto the stone began smoldering.

The first of the finishing chimes - F-sharp - rang out. That meant the edge of the sun had broken the horizon, and they were halfway there. Only halfway? Golden felt a tiny sliver of doubt embed itself into him. Lifting the sun was tiring, but today it was more so than usual. At the halfway mark he was usually still going strong - Scarlet had likened it to the moment in a long gallop when you catch your second wind. But Golden didn't feel that today. There was no second surge of energy to keep him going. Only a growing ache, as if he'd been pulling three wagons at once for most of a day.

A tiny voice that sounded like Starswirl came from the back of Golden's mind - the reminder that it was better to step away than to burn out. That there was no shame in a unicorn having done their duty and taking time to recover rather than destroying themselves. And he knew Starswirl was right. Three months was a good run, but the signs were there. Golden would speak to the great sage - after this raising. They'd come so far. He wasn't going to falter now.

One more raise.

The second F-sharp chime rang, signaling that the solar disc had finished clearing the horizon. One more to ensure the sun was on the way for the day ahead, and they'd be done. Just a last push.

Golden focused on his horn and the magic flowing between it and the sun. Even with his eyes closed and facing west, the brightness burned his eyelids.

Too hot. It was too hot.

Lucky Wish's magic pushed against Golden's, trying to take some of the weight. He didn't let it. He could handle a few more seconds.

They made the last push, shoving the sun the rest of the way into the sky.

There was a sound like dry wood snapping.

There was the smell of burning hair.

There was the third F-sharp.

Golden Rays released the sun from his magic.

Suddenly, everything shifted from searing heat to bitter cold. Every muscle in his body cramped up at once and his legs gave out. One of the attendants threw water on him to put out the embers in his mane, but Golden barely noticed it. All he could feel was pain, cold... and the silence of the ether.

The other five gathered around Golden, looking down at his panting, prone form. At his exhaustion - and at the hairline crack that ran along his horn from tip to base.

Starswirl doffed his jingling hat, and the others bowed their heads in reverence. "So we continue to pay the price."

Golden managed to open one eye and shift his head enough to look at the old wizard. "Gladly," he croaked.

"Regretfully," Starswirl corrected. Then he turned to the attendants. "Golden Rays has given all he can to Equestria. I bid that you bear him with honor from the Rising Circle so that another may take his place and that he may have his well-earned rest."

As the attendant unicorns gathered around to lift Golden Rays in their magic and help him away, Starswirl completed his command. His voice was thick with regret, as it always was when he spoke the fateful words. "Carry this hero of Equestria to the Temple that he may find peace, glory and rest under the aegis of the Rising Sun."

Horse Of The Rising Sun

Written & Directed by TCC56

Original Idea by PingZing

Cover Art by RayneTheSkunk

Starring:

Starswirl The Bearded

Princess Celestia

Director Azure Haze

Rufus of Abyssinia

Captain Bit Bridle

Brother Luminous Script

Sister 'Scribble'

Prioress Reliquary Heart

Rye Kaiser

and

Fizzlepop Berrytwist as Commander Tempest Shadow

With Special Thanks to:
The Irrepressible Mrs. TCC
Dave Bryant
I-A-M
Milk & Honey

"The unicorn Tempest Shadow to see Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia."

Celestia nodded at her herald's announcement. "Let her approach the Throne."

She did so with the reverence of the guilty before their judge. Tempest - clad in the black frock she'd chosen to replace her armor - supplicated herself before the dais. Eyes downcast and her muzzle brushing the red carpet, she presented herself before the Eternal Sun. "If it please your Highness, I come bearing word of my travels and my penance."

The alicorn monarch paused for just a moment at that phrasing before she continued. "You may speak, Commander."

A scowl crossed the bowing unicorn's lips. "My apologies, your Highness, but I have no such rank. The only army that could claim me as an officer is one I wish nothing to do with."

"Curious." Celestia lit her horn, pulling a single sheet of parchment out of the pile Raven had stacked for her earlier. She hovered it in front of herself, feigning reading what she already knew was there. "So you wish nothing to do with the EUP Guard?"

Tempest's head popped up in surprise, meeting Celestia's kind eyes. Then she slammed herself back down again, averting her gaze once more. "I--I have no idea what it is you speak of, your Highness."

The parchment floated across the gap between them and a wisp of golden magic nudged Tempest's head up to read it. "Your journey was doing the work of Harmony across the land," Celestia noted with a gentle smile. "I ensured you would not be unprotected during it. As you can see by the date, you have been officially commissioned as an officer in the Solar Guard since the day after the Storm King's fall." Mirth tickled her grin. "Though your haste to begin your journey outpaced the notice."

"I am unworthy of this gift." Tempest actually managed to bow lower, pushing her muzzle into the carpet.

Celestia sighed and stood. "Walk with me, Commander."

The Alicorn of the Sun turned and exited the throne room, the orchid mare trotting rapidly to catch up. Tempest fell into place at Celestia's back-right side, assuming the same position she had kept under the Storm King. Both were silent as they wound through the hallways of the castle before emerging into the gardens. It was there that Celestia finally spoke even as they continued ahead.

"Do you prefer I call you Tempest Shadow or by your birth name? And no saying it's whatever I please to call you - that isn't what I asked."

The unicorn hesitated for a moment - for deferring was her instinctual answer - before she found the words. "Tempest, if you please. I'm not sure I can ever call myself Fizzlepop again - who she was and who I am are too different."

"Who I was yesterday and who I am today are different ponies, yet I still call myself Celestia," came the smiling counter. "But I accept your preference, Tempest."

"Your Highness flatters and spoils me once more."

Celestia sighed. Loudly. Much more loudly than she needed to. "I was hoping that bringing this to a walk in the garden would communicate things, but I suppose I was being too subtle." She stopped, swinging her head around to meet her purple eyes to Tempest's ocean blues. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you as a pony rather than as a princess. Should I order you to be more informal, or will saying it suffice?"

"S--saying will suffice, Princess." Tempest took a shuddering breath. "I apologize for being more formal than you wanted. The last few months have been..." She considered her choice of words carefully. "Taxing."

"As I would expect," Celestia quipped as they resumed their walk, pulling Tempest along by weight of presence alone. "You took it upon yourself to do something very difficult. Not only was it an ambitious amount of travel, but it involved you facing your personal demons and the anger of those you wronged. I admire that, Tempest. There are few ponies who would have taken up that kind of burden without hesitation as you did."

"I did what I had to do. I made the mistakes - it's my duty to correct them." Tempest didn't flinch away from the memory of those errors. "I can't undo the past, but I can make up for it."

Celestia guided them around a corner, past the entrance to the hedge maze. "Mm. The past and making up for it. Yes - I can see that's a significant part of who you are. And," she added, "Quite relevant to where we are going now."

Tempest froze, falling a half-step backwards before she regained her self-control. "To a prison?"

"To a friend," Celestia corrected fondly. "Twilight told me your story in greater detail after you left. You made quite an impression on her, you know."

A blush darkened Tempest's already dark cheeks. "She made a big one on me, too."

Celestia laughed merrily at that. "She usually does. Twilight is a very special pony like that." She turned them down another pathway - one that seemed to lead to a dead end of greenery. "But today is not about her. It's about you, Tempest. Both your past and your future. Which is why I want to introduce you to a pony from my past. Starswirl the Bearded."

A pause. And then Tempest started snickering.

The Princess raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry! I'm sorry." Tempest fought to suppress her laughter down to a grin. "I guess a joke's one way to make sure I stop being so formal."

The Princess raised her other eyebrow.

Still widely smiling, Tempest shook her head. "I mean, Starswirl's been dead for more than a thousand years - if he was even real in the first place."

"If he was even real," Celestia repeated questioningly.

"Well, yes?" Tempest's mirth started to sap away. "I mean, everypony knows Starswirl wasn't real. He's just a myth like Clover the Clever or Mage Meadowbrook. The things history claims happened were done by a bunch of different ponies that merged together over time into a single figure. No pony could live through so many eras and have so much happen to them."

Celestia said nothing back. She merely lit her horn, lifting the curtain of ivy out of the way and transforming the dead end path into a concealed stone arch.

Through it and inside the secluded arbor stood the grey form of Starswirl the Bearded. His own horn was lit, dipping his paintbrush to pick up just a trace more of blue. As Celestia entered, the old sage didn't look away from his work. "I will admit being called a myth is new," he dryly noted as he glided his brush across the canvas, adding another swath of sky to the landscape he'd made. "I shall have to remember that - Meadowbrook will find it most unnerving that she's not real at our next tea."

To Tempest's credit, she only stood in the archway staring at Starswirl for half a minute. "Well," she admitted as the ivy fell back behind her, "I suppose I should be glad that the universe has moved on to laughing at me instead of bucking me in the teeth."

"I suppose I'm the universe then," Celestia quipped amidst her giggling.

Starswirl set his paintbrush in the wash-water before leaving his current work. "Apologies for my former student, Miss Shadow. I fear that even after a millennium, she remains an incorrigible prankster and rapscallion." He bowed with a jingle. "It is a great pleasure to meet you. Both Princesses Celestia and Twilight have spoken well of you. They compliment your courage and your steadfast character."

Tempest bowed her head in return. "They're liars. I'm a monster who's only saving grace is a willingness to fix what she broke."

"Broke is once more an interesting choice of words." Celestia laid down on a nearby stone bench as the two unicorns conversed.

"Indeed. Miss Shadow - anecdotes of my mythology aside, are you at all good at history? Particularly the Pre-Equestrian Era?" Starswirl waited patiently for the hesitant shake of her head. "Before there was a Princess to move the sun, we unicorns raised it ourselves each day. It was taxing, however. It took six of us to do so, and even the strongest could only carry the burden for a handful of weeks before taking time to recuperate from the magical exhaustion. Some..." He pinched his eyes shut as ancient memories came flooding back. "Some paid a far higher price. Permanent incapacitation of their magic was more common than we wanted to admit."

The sorcerer ground to a halt under the weight of those memories.

Tempest shifted uneasily on her hooves, unsure of where this was headed.

It only took a few moments for Starswirl to regain himself. "To honor those who sacrificed and help them in their lives afterward, the ancient lords of Unicornia created a place - a monastery where the exhausted could recover and the crippled could find solace." His horn lit, drawing an emblem in the air above his head - a half-circle of a golden sun on the horizon, shooting six rays upwards. "It was originally called the Temple of Solar Healing, but it quickly gained a different moniker from the unicorns who were brought there. They named it the House of the Rising Sun."

There, Celestia cut in. "Once I took up the duty of raising and lowering the sun, there was no more need for unicorns to risk and sacrifice themselves for that. The monastery reshaped itself - they spread from helping only those unicorns crippled from raising the sun to all unicorns in need. The monks became experts on afflictions of the horn and of magic."

Both paused, watching Tempest for her reaction.

She had none.

She didn't dare move. Even her heart only reluctantly beat as realization of what they were saying dawned on her. Tempest finally spoke when the silence stretched too far and it was obvious they were waiting. "Of... of the horn," she croaked out, her throat bone-dry.

Princess Celestia simply smiled back.

"I'm told the order still exists." Starswirl stepped forward to put a hoof on Tempest's shoulder. "I am eager to see what has become of the legacy of my time. Would you care to accompany me, Miss Shadow?"

Tears pricked the mare's eyes. "Thank you."

Mischief sparkled in the old stallion's gaze. "We'll see how long you say that for - you're carrying my bags, young mare."

Author's Note

And off we go!

2 - Camillian

Grey magic resolved itself into a broad portal.

On one side lay Canterlot - the interior of the castle and Starswirl's personal chambers. A sanctum of learning and sorcery, filled with ancient artifacts and texts beyond the ken of mortal minds.

On the other side lay Neigh Orleans - a city which embodied excess in ways rivaled only by Las Pegasus. A critical trade crossroads on the edge of the Hayseed Swamps, both the city and the denizens were widely known as boisterous, vivacious and irrepressible in their embrace of life.

It was a city that smelled like the sea. Each street and district had its own scent - sweat and spices and smoke - but the tang of salt water ran under it all. Sure, it grew more fetid as you went inland towards the marshes, but there was no mistaking the city's lifeblood even when one couldn't see the sprawling dockyards or the open expanse of the bay.

What sounds the city had to provide, however, were overwhelmed by laughter from the portal as it disgorged the two travelers. Tempest - laden with a double set of saddlebags - was cackling with unrestrained glee.

Starswirl, on the other hand, was merely chuckling politely.

But his more demure manner did nothing to suppress Tempest's humor. "That's just so Twilight."

The old sage's lips twitched to a wider smile, unable to resist his companion's joy. "From all the stories and our interactions? Yes, it very much is."

"Only she'd be crazy enough to violate the laws of time, space and reality just so she could meet her idol." With a shake of her head, Tempest dismissed the entire debacle as 'Twilight' in the same way Ponyvilleans dismissed strange events as 'it's Pinkie Pie'.

"And be immediately spurned by his short-sightedness," Starswirl amended with a chuckle. "For all my wisdom, I've had my fair share of stumbles since returning from Limbo. Between what nearly happened to poor Stygian and those two shysters with their fake school..." He hung his head. "It is a good reminder that even the most learned do not know everything. There is always something new to discover and expand one's mind."

Tempest nudged Starswirl. "Hey. I know better than anypony that you need to focus on the future. Keep your eyes backwards and you'll never go anywhere but deeper into your past."

A wry smile crossed Starswirl's lips. "Well said, Commander. So! Speaking of where to set our eyes, I believe the Princess gave us directions?"

It took Tempest a moment of looking around to solidify her bearings, then she nodded. "If I'm reading the signs right, the Temple's current head offices should be about three blocks east of here."

And true enough, they were.

It was wholly unrecognizable as such, however. The Temple of Solar Healing didn't look like any aspect of the name - it was instead a fairly nondescript office building in a row of other office buildings. Not that it wasn't a good looking one: a brown brick two-story with tall windows crisscrossed by white lattice. But it didn't stand out - not in the way that the name and the storied history would suggest. The only confirmation they'd found to confirm it as the Temple was an image of the six-rayed sun on a text-heavy bronze plaque beside a similarly emblazoned whitewashed door.

For a long moment Starswirl stood beside that door, reading the plaque with a frown. Tempest drew up beside him - and he explained his hesitation. "This dedication - it says that the Temple does the work of Celestia to bring healing to the sick. There's no mention of those who founded this place, nor of the struggle that made it damnably necessary to begin with."

"It has been a thousand years," Tempest placatingly noted. "Over time, details get blurred." She paused before cheekily adding, "Like if you were a real pony or not."

That managed to break Starswirl out enough to laugh quietly. "Too true, Miss Shadow. Too true indeed."

The interior was more the same detached genericness as the outside - full of bright but neutral shades, laying in that carefully pinched space between openness and professional distance. The obligatory fern sat to the left of the entrance, mirroring the tall reception desk on the right. Behind the desk (and in front of another logo of the rayed sun) was an earth pony who's maroon coat was the sole source of vibrant color in the otherwise pale lobby. His head popped up from the book he was reading at the sound of the door. "Good afternoon, welcome to the--" And then he gasped.

It took a second for the two travelers to realize he was staring at Tempest's shattered horn. She took a half-step backwards under the pressure of his eyes in the brief heartbeat it took them to switch from staring to sympathetic.

"Welcome to the Temple of Solar Healing," repeated the receptionist, this time in a voice laced with pity. "My apologies, we don't normally have patients here."

Tempest growled reflexively.

Starswirl, however, perked at the receptionist's phrasing. "Oh, so this place is merely administrative and the healers themselves are elsewhere?"

The earth pony hesitated. "Y--yes? They're at the various hospitals we contribute to."

The sage's expression dipped into confusion.

Helpfully, Tempest stepped in. "A hospital is a--"

"I know what a hospital is, you--" Starswirl clamped his jaw shut with a snap, cutting off his own ire. "...Apologies, Miss Shadow. That was uncalled for." He re-gathered himself, focusing on the receptionist. "I'm sorry, but I may have been misinformed. I had thought that the Temple was a place of healing."

This seemed to be a common question, judging by how quickly the earth pony rattled off his chirpy response. "The Temple of Solar Healing was! Back in the beginnings of our history, we were founded as a clinic for helping injured unicorns. But over time and as modern medicine emerged, the Temple left the hooves-on work to the professionals and focused on making sure the doctors of Equestria had what they needed."

Now it was Tempest's turn to frown. "So you're just a charity."

"'Just' is selling us short. But yes, we are," came a new voice. All turned up the hall as a blue unicorn with a bronze mane emerged from the deeper parts of the office building. "The foremost medical charity in Equestria for dealing with unicorn-specific ailments and injuries." Trotting up, she extended her hoof to the pair. "Director Azure Haze. Mister Starswirl. Commander Tempest. It's a pleasure to meet you both. I just got the letter from Princess Celestia saying you were coming."

Starswirl stroked his beard. "Ah, so she did give some advanced warning. It would have been nice if she had instead told us what we were coming to in the first place."

Beckoning the pair to come with her, Azure walked with them back into the offices proper. "I can't say why she didn't - the Temple has been purely a charity organization for hundreds of years. And as she's a regular contributor to our causes, I'm certain the Princess is aware." She shook her head. "Maybe she thought there was still some way we could help you both."

Entering into her office - a fairly spartan space, decorated almost exclusively by a few family photos and the loud statements of how much the Director enjoyed golf - they sat down for a talk. "Perhaps you can start by telling me how the monastic order I helped found came to... this." Starswirl held back his judgments - barely - but not his disdainful tone.

Azure nodded, letting Starswirl's ire wash over her without a blink. "Of course. While I can't tell you all of our history, I'm happy to tell you what I do know." She adjusted her chair, leaning forward over her desk. "Originally, this location was an off-shoot of the Temple itself. Not long after Equestria was founded, the Temple started to work with the disciples of Mage Meadowbrook and established itself here as a joint venture. After the original temple was lost, we were the largest location left and--"

Starswirl raised a hoof, signaling his interjection. "'Lost'?"

Another nod from Azure. "Yes. I'm sure you're aware of the original location for the Temple - somewhere around Mount Incitatus, if I remember the stories right. It was lost, but that sounds a lot more dramatic than it really was." She laughed, head shaking. "There was simply a very bad winter and the temple was snowed in by a blizzard. The terrain and weather were so bad nopony was able to get back to it, and after a while we simply moved on. Spending time, effort and lives to chase after a snowed-over ruin rather than helping the ponies of Equestria isn't what we were founded for."

The question answered, Azure resumed. "As I was saying. We were the largest location left and acted as a gathering point for the Temple's resources. Over time, the other outlying branches faded away until only this location was left operating. Rather than continue to pour funds into maintaining a clinic focused on a single race and a single sub-set of injuries in a single city, we started putting the bits towards hospitals and doctors around Equestria. They could reach far more unicorns than we could on our own and are able to incorporate the knowledge into their own existing practices. We still fund more than a dozen hospitals as well as four different research laboratories."

Azure hesitated for a moment before turning her head to Tempest. "Unfortunately, despite all the advances of medicine, there are some injuries we just can't fix. I'm sorry."

The orchid mare slumped. "It's alright. I'm used to hearing that."

But as her head bowed, Starswirl's raised. "So you're saying that the Temple of Solar Healing no longer does any healing."

"Only through our charity funding," Azure clarified.

Starswirl crooked an eyebrow. "Your libraries?"

"Anything of use," Azure replied, "Has long since become standard practice throughout Equestria. Nearly everything else is obsolete compared to modern medicine, and the books we still have are just historical curiosities."

"And you cannot help my companion."

A regretful nod from the Director. "I don't think anypony could."

Starswirl rose to his hooves. "Well. I suppose that's that, then. Thank you for your time, Director Haze."

They shook hooves, and the pair of travelers took their leave.

Outside, Tempest turned towards the sea. "At least this is a nice day trip. I've heard good things about the food."

Starswirl was having none of it, grabbing Tempest across her withers and pulling her away. "There will be time for sightseeing later, Miss Shadow. We're not done yet."

"But... I don't understand. You said we were going to see them, and since they can't help me..." Tempest followed the old sage, but each step was plagued with hesitating uncertainty.

He was not so cursed. "Those milksops couldn't dress themselves in the morning. The Temple was founded as a place of healing and they gave that up long ago." Starswirl snorted. "Hiding behind excuses and justifications like mewling kittens. Hmph. I tell you this, Miss Shadow - the House of the Rising Sun is not some subservient piggy bank that doles out bits for others to do their work. I brought you here because I know they have ways that could help you." He turned a glaring eye to the office building they were walking away from. "But it seems that they have willfully forgotten who they are."

Tempest swallowed with a shiver. "Starswirl, they're just trying to help."

"Pfah," he snorted. "I understand that Generosity is a virtue of harmony and I do not scoff at that. But I know the Temple and its origins better than any. Better than those who remain in charge of it included." Starswirl paused, turning his head to lock eyes with Tempest. "They abandoned centuries of knowledge on that mountain. Even if we were not seeking help for your condition, I would never allow it to be forsaken there."

Another hesitation. But this time, it was Tempest trying to push her welling hope back down again. "I thought you were just here to see what happened to the Temple."

With a chuckle, Starswirl shook his head. "Perhaps. But I am confronted with a mare in need, lost knowledge aching for recovery and a particular purple princess who said to please help her friend. My stated journey may be at an end, but that merely allows for another to begin."

Tempest's wellspring burst into a beaming smile and downcast eyes. "Thank you."

"Tomorrow, however," Starswirl decided. "Because you are correct. I have heard many stories of this city's culinary arts and it would be a shame to not sample them. And perhaps they can do what Meadowbrook always failed at and convince me that gumbo is good."

Laughter rolled off Tempest's tongue. "I think that sounds like a suitable challenge for our evening."

Author's Note

Originally the city here was Whinnyapolis, but when the title idea was offered by my wife a rewrite to Neigh Orleans had to happen.

3 - Carthusian

Stirrup Hill was the closest settlement to Mount Incitatus - and settlement was the only term for something so small. On the northern side of the Unicorn Range, it sat in the awkward spot of just a little too far from the nearest major city (Tall Tale, if you didn't mind crossing the mountains) and a little too close to the Smokey Mountains (and so dangerously within banjo range). The place wasn't much more than a crossroads stop for the local farmers and miners to buy supplies and offload their wares to be shipped elsewhere in Equestria. A dry goods store, a bar-slash-restaurant, a run-down hotel and a train platform - that summed up everything about Stirrup Hill aside from the well.

It was good enough for the pair, however. It had food and water to buy for their coming hike.

Two days of walking south later, they passed out of the foothills and into the mountains themselves.

Tempest - carrying the lion's share of their gear - looked up at the craggy peaks. "So... not Mount Incitatus."

Nodding, Starswirl pointed his hoof slightly to the tallest mountain's south-east. "No - there. The gap between the twins Balius and Xanthos. Climbing a mountain to a secluded monastery is certainly dramatic but it's impractical, particularly when the most common traveler is injured or sick. We founded the Temple in the lee of the two smaller mountains - there's a valley there."

The gentle clip-clop of hooves on stone droned on for a few minutes as they continued their journey.

In time, Tempest posed another question. "So why here at all? Why not near Canterlot or some other major city?"

"Canterlot wouldn't be built for decades," Starswirl pointed out. "It would only come about after Luna's fall and this place was built before the Princesses first appeared. As for the rest... the foremost is that it is a location of natural power. A place where the veins of the world's mana cross. Part of the hope was that having the flow of natural magic close at hoof would help the healing process, and we did see some results of that for those who were merely exhausted. You can fill a cup with water from the rain or much faster if you dip it into a river." He glanced to Tempest, taking her thoughtful nod as permission to continue. "There are a handful of other such places in Equestria, but not many. And most were in more dangerous or more far-flung locations. Equestria was newly born when the Temple was first built, and its borders much smaller than the sprawling nation you know today."

Tempest nodded again. "That makes sense. I guess I just presumed that if you're transporting the sick and injured, you'd want where you're going to be easier to reach. Or at least closer to a town."

Ducking under the low-hanging branch of a scraggly tree, Starswirl chuckled. "Spoken like a strategist, Commander. You think in terms of logistics and maneuver - and do not think I mean that as anything less than a compliment. The landscape and the ponies have changed over the centuries, however. This place was once not as remote as it is now. Once we reach the ruins, you'll see that there was a small town around the monastery itself that, at its height, would have put excuses like Stirrup Hill to shame. Not as populated as even somewhere like Ponyville today, but in its own time? Large enough to be mostly self-sufficient. Sadly it seems that the years have not been kind to this region, and most of those who lived here have moved on."

Craning her neck, Tempest futilely tried to get a better look ahead. "About how much longer, did you say? I can't see the valley."

Starswirl dismissed her concern with a shrug. "Perhaps a day's trot. You likely cannot see it because of those low-lying clouds. We're outside the reach of the pegasi with the Bureau, so wild weather is to be expected here."

A day later, and they were bedding down for the night when Tempest said it.

"Perhaps a day's trot, huh."

Starswirl had the good grace to flush with embarrassment at the reminder. "I suppose my old legs don't travel as swiftly as they once did."

Tempest snorted. "Or you're so used to teleporting everywhere that you've lost your sense of distance."

The old sage blushed brighter - and the companions laughed.

Once their chuckling was over, however, Tempest shifted to a more serious tone. "We're going to have trouble, though. We only brought enough food and water for an eight day trip - three there, three back and two on site. We could stretch it to ten if we were careful, but if the trip is much longer we're not going to have any time to explore the ruins."

Just as he had the day before, Starswirl dismissed her concern - this time with a wave of his hoof. "We can extend our stay easily enough. I have the location of that small village memorized - I can simply teleport us back there once we're finished. So that's an extra three days of supplies even without skipping lunch."

The suggestion didn't entirely mollify Tempest - she still frowned deeply. But she also didn't raise an objection.

Tempest managed to eventually win a concession from Starswirl - a detour in their path. Rather than taking the long way around the base of the mountain named Balius, they veered slightly to go across the mountain's foot. Not a difficult climb, but it would cut a few hours off the journey and buy that much more breathing room for exploration.

What she hadn't counted on was that stormfront of wild weather.

Rather than blow off with the rising winds, the stormclouds that they had spotted covering the valley stayed where they were. Their presence transformed a short hike over the rocky base of the mountain into a wind-whipped trudge. Worse yet, despite the spring temperatures the wind was pulling snow down from the higher heights of the surrounding mountains. Not heavy flakes either - tiny motes that were more ice than snow, carried on the wind like darts.

Both ponies had some protection - Starswirl's cloak and Tempest's frock - but neither had come truly prepared for such weather. There had been no need, after all. Winter was long past and they weren't going anywhere near the snowcaps of the mountains. But yet there they were, pushing forward across the rocky terrain through a withering barrage of ice.

Another gust slashed over the pair as they braced against a sheer rock-face. Tempest shouted something but her words were lost amidst the howling wind and the rabid jingle of Starswirl's bells. She shouted again, this time with a thrust of her hoof ahead.

Starswirl shook his head. They at least had shelter from one direction, and he was in no mood to leave it.

Rather than continue the fruitless argument, Tempest grabbed the sorcerer by the scruff of his neck and dragged him away from the wall. Starswirl thrashed against her, failing to fight her strength and the raging storm at the same time. He stumbled and fell, knees scraping against the ice-rimmed stone. His head rose again, eyes furious and mouth open to shout a round of curses at Tempest - and then he saw where she was pointing.

Barely visible through the snow - a light. The warm amber speck of a lantern waving in the wind.

He understood and nodded.

The pair pushed forward, minutes stretching on as they fought their way to that tantalizing glow. He fell twice more; she once. But drawing closer, the light resolved itself to a burning oil lamp nailed to a wooden door. What precisely was behind it was unclear - but it led into the grey stone of the mountain and that meant it wasn't out in the slicing wind and snow.

They less opened the door and more lunged through it.

Crossing the threshold couldn't be put into words. One moment the world was a blur of stinging white and grey with the wind tearing away all other sounds and biting deep into their bones. The next, everything was bathed in a warm orange glow and all was silent save for the crackle of burning logs.

The small fire in the middle of the alcove guttered and struggled, flinching away from the few moments of icy wind while the door was open. Tempest was quick to kick the door closed again with her rear hoof, slamming it tight. Both she and Starswirl lay on the bare stone of the alcove, panting as they regained their bearings and feeling in their extremities.

Blinking away the flakes from her eyelashes, Tempest took in their new shelter. It wasn't a large space - perhaps five pony-lengths square - but it was well lived-in. The small firepit in the center had the soot ground deep into it, marking this as a place long occupied. Two buckets of water - likely snowmelt - sat on the left wall beside a small table built from boxes of canned food and covered in camp cookware. To the right was a single bedroll and a stack of tools - two picks, a shovel and a small kit of some sort in a leather case. Beyond the fire was a passage leading deeper into the mountain.

But before that? Sitting at the fire was an Abyssinian. Far from home, the cat was hunched by the flames, poking at a pot hung to cook. He was small with a spotted tawny coat and thick muttonchops across his cheeks to frame a broad face. Surprise lined his features - fortunately not fear or panic.

It was an opportunity, not an ambush. Tempest struggled to her hooves. "S--Sorry for interrupting," she stuttered as the cold shivered through her again. "It's a little chilly out."

And the Abyssinian broke out into deep, chortling laughter.

His name was Rufus. Names were as far as the conversation got before warming up and drying off took priority over social niceties. Fortunately Tempest found that Rufus shared her attitudes about that - practical matters were more important than pretty words.

Huddled by the fire with a pair of borrowed blankets, the two ponies shared some of their trail rations with the cat in exchange for some of his soup. All three ate quietly as the wind battered the door with futile rage.

Eventually Rufus left his spoon in his large tin soup cup. "Should probably ask what you're doing here, ponies."

"We," Starswirl haughtily commented, "Are searching for a set of ancient ruins in the valley ahead. Unfortunately my hasty companion wanted to take a shortcut and steered us directly into this storm. I thank you for your hospitality and we shall be on our way as soon as it passes."

Unexpectedly, that made Rufus laugh. His laugh wasn't jolly or even particularly friendly - he laughed like a bucket of gravel being poured down a hill. It was rough, harsh and scattered all over the place before ending in a clattering cough. "The storm won't pass."

"I beg your pardon?"

Rufus said it again, this time looking Starswirl right in the eyes. "The storm won't pass. Ever." His back crackled as he straightened up. "And you owe your hasty companion your lives."

Starswirl gawked, struck momentarily dumb by both the news and the sass. Fortunately Tempest was able to pick up the slack. "What do you mean, 'ever'?"

"I mean ever," Rufus repeated. "There's no pony in any generation that even remembers a story about this storm not being here. It's as much part of the mountain as the rocks are. Wind and snow for all of eternity. And that's why you're lucky you came here. Down at the foot of the mountain, the snow and ice have been piling up for decades. It's solid - mostly." The cat leveled his eyes at Starswirl. "One moment, you're walking on what seems like firm ground. The next? You step on a part that hasn't been compacted as much. You sink like it was quicksand, and suddenly you're buried under enough snow to hide a castle."

The pair of ponies were silent, taking that dire thought in. Starswirl - now chastised - half-mumbled his question. "You've seen it, I presume?"

Rufus nodded solemnly, and spoke no details. "Further up the mountain does little good, either. Once the slope becomes too sharp, the winds would tear you from the ground and hurl you down. You were lucky to stumble into this narrow band where neither danger is as high."

"And we were fortunate to find your camp," Starswirl added with a bow of his head. "Again. thank you for your hospitality. Since the storm won't lift, I suppose we'll just have a rest and then move on."

"I can point out to you the landmarks I use to navigate to the nearest town," offered the Abyssinian.

Starswirl shook his head. "Thank you but no. We're going ahead, not back."

Rufus flicked a black-tuffed ear. "Did you not hear me? The storm is eternal. Going forward is suicide. This is the last safe place, and even I know I'm half mad for being here."

"Why are you here?" Tempest jabbed her spike of a question into the conversation's rails.

He looked over to the small pile of mining gear by his bedroll, then back to Tempest. Rufus said nothing, but his eyes were drowning in sarcasm.

Tempest tightly pursed her lips, ears flat. "You know what I meant."

"Finding a good scrape is hard. Ponies and diamond dogs control most of the good sites in Equestria, and there's no room their plans for an independent like me. But here?" Rufus waved a hand at the tunnel going deeper into the mountain. "No pony has ever put a pick to these rocks. The locals all think I'm insane to work this deep into the storm, but I make a good living on my own terms."

A nod of understanding, and Tempest dropped that line of questioning away. "So nopony's never gone deeper into the storm?"

"None that came back," Rufus clarified.

They all dropped into silence after that - the ponies in thought and Rufus because he was used to lonely quiet in the storm.

Author's Note

4 - Camaldolese

Their sleep was fitful but needed. While Tempest might have complained about how they had only been walking for a few hours, the force of the storm had sapped their energy. They weren't going to have another opportunity to rest again after they left the small mine, either, so not taking the opportunity would have been foolish.

Rufus slept as well, though his unease was from the two strangers sharing his normally private space rather than from the risks ahead.

By what they reckoned was morning, all three were rested enough to rise but little more than that. A quick meal was shared - Rufus' hard-tack biscuits and some dried fruit from the packs of the ponies.

Little was said until the end of the meal - and Tempest was the one to break the silence.

"I suppose it's time to get back on the road."

Rufus' head lifted from staring at the fire. "You're actually going further in?"

Nodding curtly, Tempest confirmed it. "I already endured a storm to try and get my horn back. This one can't be much worse."

"And if it kills you?" The cat's tone stayed even, burying his disbelief.

Tempest merely chuckled lowly. "I'll die appreciating the irony."

Rising to his hooves, Starswirl slowly stretched his legs one by one. "If we might trouble you one last time, could we have a rope?" Tempest raised an eyebrow at the sorcerer. "So that we may tie together ourselves and our fates, rather than become separated in the storm," he explained.

It took a moment of consideration before Rufus answered. "Three bits."

Starswirl raised a bushy eyebrow. "Three?"

"To buy the replacement," explained the miner. "You're not going to be coming back with it."

Tempest hoofed out five small coins. "A few extra for our share of the food."

Rufus took them with a nod and a flick of his tufted ear towards his supplies and the rope. "Good luck. I hope you don't get too far before you come to your senses and turn back."

A wry smile danced over Tempest's lips. "The sentiment's appreciated."

Tempest and Starswirl lashed themselves together, braced and plunged out into the howling storm.

Of all the ponies in the world to barge into the endless blizzard, this pair were some of the best choices. Tempest had spent most of her life outside Equestria's borders and in service of the Storm King - wild weather and horrific storms were entirely commonplace for her. And Starswirl had been born in an era where the three tribes were still warring with each other - he had seen just as many days where the stormclouds were being used as weapons against him as he had days where the skies were kept clear and peaceful by the ancestors of the Weather Bureau.

Those facts were little comfort to either in the face of reality.

Ice-filled winds whipped into the pair as they stumbled and staggered ahead. At least they assumed it was 'ahead'. Starswirl's magic had helped them make good progress for a while: he'd crafted a shield spell to form a pointed wedge that acted as both wind-break and plow. It had made their advance easier - not simple by any stretch, but stepped up from 'impossible' to only 'painfully difficult'.

Then they'd hit a patch of quicksnow. Seemingly hard-packed and solid ground below them had suddenly become loose powder and Starswirl dropped like a stone.

Only the rope saved Starswirl's life - his shout of surprise was lost in the wind, but Tempest felt the tug and braced herself against a nearby rock in time to prevent them both from being pulled in. Hauling the sage to safety took agonizing minutes of hard pulling while he struggled for air, but she'd gotten him free. Unfortunately the lapse of concentration and close brush with death had dropped the twin planes of force that had made up the shield, and each attempt to reform it simply led to it shattering under the wind and exhausting Starswirl further.

They forged ahead without the protection.

Time was nearly impossible to gauge - the sky was light so it was some time after dawn yet before dusk but nothing more precise was possible. Direction was even less so. All either of them could do was try to continue in what seemed like a straight line and hope.

Tempest was in the lead now, her greater strength and heavier hooves anchoring the lighter, weaker Starswirl. Without the shield, there was no point to having the wizard be in front. Her magical senses were duller, however, which meant Tempest had no warning before she collided face-first with a wall. Not one of stone - but of magic.

She dropped and Starswirl was by her side in an instant. He reached down to lift her up - and then stopped. His gaze shifted to an invisible point in front of them, indistinguishable from the rest of the roaring snowstorm. One hoof stayed on Tempest as she struggled to right herself, while the other reached out to touch that point.

A tap of the hoof and the air rippled.

Starswirl's eyes narrowed.

Ducking his head next to Tempest's, Starswirl shouted against the howling wind. "Barrier! Touch horns!"

A snide rebuke almost instinctively came to Tempest's frost-covered lips - she bit down on it at the last second. Turning her broken horn towards the direction Starswirl was pointing, Tempest gathered what magic she could.

In turn, Starswirl did the same. Pressing his horn alongside Tempest's, he used his unbroken length to act as a conduit for the power in hers. Both horns sparked, arcing dangerously. Then with a surge they blasted forward.

The invisible wall ahead wobbled, shaking like gelatin. The point they were aiming at messily splattered open, ragged liquid gaps tearing wide as the wall flowed away from the pressure. It made a not dissimilar slurping sound as well - though that detail was lost amidst a renewed burst of wind. The difference in air pressure between the two sides of the wall viciously pulled on both ponies like a vacuum. They were hauled through, crying out in fear as they were yanked from the blizzard and into whatever was on the far side of the barrier.

Just what that was resolved slowly, but there was one thing neither questioned: it was warmer. Not the same as the lovely spring it should have been, but even the cool autumn-ish air was leagues better than the bone-deep chill of the storm.

There was no wind, either. The silence in their ears was soothingly painful - up until Tempest groaned and wobbled to her knees.

"Are we dead?"

Starswirl brushed ice from the brim of his hat with a jingle. "I suspect that if we were I would be less tired."

Laughing despite her raw throat, Tempest wiggled her ears to brush away snow from the top of her head. "You and me both."

She helped him up and they finally got the chance to take in their surroundings.

The barrier was closed again - mostly. Its amorphous magic had pulled itself together and the only way to discern their point of entry was that one spot was thinner than the rest of the liquid-like glow. Thinner and threateningly bowed slightly inward as the winds continued to batter against it. Across the wall - now visible only by a slight sparkle and the lack of snow - other sections flexed and moved, giving a little when the wind hit directly and pulling back to shape when it relaxed.

Around them was... it had to be the valley. Tempest might have doubted it, but there was a look of recognition in Starswirl's eyes that was undeniable. He had seen this place and knew it well. Even if it was a thousand years removed from him, it was familiar.

Down the slope from where they stood, the valley leveled out quickly. The rocky soil they were on gave way to richer earth, and then scrub and short trees that gave way to regimented fields. And beyond those came the town itself. The architecture was ancient - wood-framed wattle and daub houses with the occasional flagstone structure. Few rose to a second story in the tight cluster that sprawled around the town's well, most sitting squat and tightly together. The only exception was the giant of a walled keep that sat near the center of the miles-wide green oasis and on the foot of the further mountain's rise. Looming four stories at the highest tower, it stood vigil over the small town in somber dark stone. Breaking that dark up was the golden six-rayed sunburst in bronze that graced each side of the high central tower.

And inside that tower was a bell - one loudly ringing out.

Distant specks of ponies in the town were scrambling - most into buildings but a distressing few were not. They, instead, had formed a small phalanx and were rapidly galloping towards the slope and the pair.

Tempest swung her head around to her companion. "Somepony's coming and fast. We should..." Her words dropped away into a growl of annoyance.

Starswirl saw none of the commotion. He was too busy poking and prodding the barrier wall with both hoof and magic. "Fascinating work. Entirely non-rigid and self-repairing. Something this size requires an absurd amount of magic, but we are atop one of the more powerful ley nexuses in Equestria so I suppose that makes it plausible. And the non-rigid structure makes sense given the function to keep out the winds. A harder shield would eventually have a fracture point. It's an excellent example of the adage of the oak and the reed. With a little--"

The orchid mare grabbed him by the beard. "We need to hide."

It took approximately sixty seconds for Starswirl to take in the view, spy the oncoming group of ponies and process what was going on. Then just as Tempest was about to yell at him again, Starswirl teleported them both into the cover of a nearby scrub thicket.

The village was further away than Tempest had thought - it took almost five minutes for the oncoming group to reach them. Her estimated half-dozen turned out to be seven in total, all unicorns. Three wore nothing; two had on a loose cuirass of lamellar armor; the last two had on orange cape-like robes. They split apart as they arrived, with two beelining for the barrier and the others spreading out.

They were uneasy. Tense. Waiting for something and on the verge of panic. Tempest had seen those postures often enough - usually in guards and militia who were bracing for the first wave of an attack. (Of her attack, a tiny voice reminded her.) This group obviously had some level of training judging by their wordless coordination, but they'd come expecting a fight and not finding one had them on edge.

Several more minutes crept past - then the armored one at the wall shouted loudly. "Breach closed!"

Those words instantly relaxed the five not at the wall. They gathered back together near the point that Tempest and Starswirl had broken through.

The armored one who had spoke - a light red stallion - let out another sigh of relief. "Something broke through, but the barrier fixed itself like it's supposed to. I'd guess it was only open for a little while."

His robed companion at the wall - deep blue with a yellow mane - contributed his own part as he continued to inspect the area around the breach. "Less than two minutes. There's not much melted snow on the ground."

"Did the wind break it?" The other robed pony - this one a teal mare - shifted from hoof to hoof uneasily. "If the barrier isn't able to hold up anymore, we'll have to pull it in before there's another breach. And that means we'll lose the blackberry patches on the south-east edge." One of the bare ponies whined at that, only to be silenced by a glare from his companion.

The red stallion shook his head. "I'm not sure. There's no debris so nothing got thrown through it. It doesn't match up with how wind-breaches usually are, though."

Off to his side, the dark blue stallion dipped his head down. "... hoofprints."

All of the others froze in confusion.

"Hoofprints," he repeated, before pointing to a spot on the ground. "Look. The snow-melt muddied up this area just inside the breach. There's hoofprints here and they aren't ours." Dropping down to his belly, he took a closer look. "Two sets. One's metal-shod. Heavy and fairly wide. The other one's narrower and--" His words cut abruptly as his horn lit yellow. Something levitated off the ground - too tiny for Tempest and Starswirl to see from their hiding place. "Grey fur," the stallion declared. His eyes darted around, confirming that none of their party was grey. Panic crept into his voice. "Bit, these are pony tracks."

There was no mistaking the sudden spike of emotion in them - fear. Tempest could taste it even at their range. On her left Starswirl nervously shifted, rubbing his side against hers as they stayed low and close.

The red stallion - Bit, presumably - stomped a hoof to try and regain control. "Hey! Hey!! Concentrate!" Six sets of eyes focused on him. "Lemon, head back to town and let them know what's happened. Tell them the barrier's secure but don't mention the tracks." He paused. "Tell the Prioress about that, but not the townsfolk."

One of the two yellow unicorns - the paler one - nodded and turned to gallop off.

"Everypony else, pair off and spread out. We'll see if we can find more tracks and get to the bottom of this." Bit pointed to the others in turn. "Pine, Scribble, you head north along the barrier. Glory, Nail, head south. Script, you're with me."

They started to spread out - and that's when Tempest rose to her full height. "STOP."

All seven froze.

Reluctantly, Starswirl stood beside her. Voice low, he tried to avoid being heard by any but Tempest. "What are you doing? I thought we were hiding!"

"Can't let them get reinforcements," she hissed back before raising her voice once more. "All of you stay where you are! We don't want to hurt anypony but we need some answers!"

None of them moved. Tempest was fine with that.

She was less fine with how Starswirl simply stepped out of the thicket and right into her potential line of fire. "Please excuse my companion. Our journey to come here was very difficult and your presence is unexpected. We had thought this an abandoned ruin."

Bit took a single step forward - he'd intended more, but froze when Tempest leveled her jagged horn at him. All seven sets of eyes were on that horn, and a creeping feeling told Tempest it wasn't simply because of her threatening stance. "So-- so it's true? You're from outside?"

Starswirl nodded. "We are."

The seven all dropped to a knee, bowing. "We thought that was impossible," spoke the robed stallion said with barely restrained awe. "That there are other ponies yet in the world. And that you've come for healing. Please, travelers, be at peace. We welcome you to the House of the Rising Sun."

5 - Franciscan

They wanted to ask questions. Dozens, probably hundreds of them. But all seven of the escorts were doing their best to stay silent under Tempest's suspicious glare.

The town was causing enough noise to make up for it. Inside their houses, the villagers murmured fears while overhead the bell continued to ring out a warning. Its constant tolling made Starswirl grimace as they approached town and tower. The irritation was enough for him to finally break the tense silence among the party.

"Must they continue to ring that?"

Bit snorted. "Normally, we would have sent a runner to tell them everything was fine and that they could stop. But somepony threatened to blast any one of us who left her sight."

Tempest didn't feel a hint of remorse and didn't bother to meet his accusing glare.

On the other hoof, Starswirl found it amusing despite his annoyance at the noise. "The Commander can be a bit forward," he chuckled. "But I expect you can see it from our perspective."

"I can," admitted the armored stallion. "I'd be the same in your place."

The teal mare angled slightly to come beside Bit, the bounce in her step making the sunrise-shaded gradients of her robe wobble. "How could you know that? They're from beyond the barrier! Who knows what kind of crazy things they've dealt with!"

Tempest's voice rumbled, low and hard. "You could just ask us."

"Oh! Well--"

She was cut off by Bit. "Scribble, we're all interested but read the room. Let's just get to the Prioress. She's going to ask the same questions you are and I'm sure our guests don't want to keep retelling the same story over and over."

The mare - Scribble, obviously - pouted. "Fiiiiiine." Her reaction, in turn, set two of the others among the escorts snickering. It was contagious, and in short order the whole group was chuckling and giggling.

Except Tempest. She maintained a rock-solid stoic demeanor as they marched into the town proper.

Up close, the town wasn't that different from her initial impressions. The buildings were all in an ancient style, constructed with a focus on sustainability rather than comfort or size. Pieces of wood larger than a stick seemed to be at a premium - reserved for the frames of structures. Stone - grey and likely taken from the surrounding mountains - was the order of the day for smaller details like furniture, intermixed with woven reeds.

Another point that stood out immediately was the emptiness. Not how everypony was hiding, but how many buildings were unoccupied. Particularly along the outer ring of the village, easily half the buildings sat visibly vacant. They'd been kept in usable condition, but thick dust on the windowsills and weeds between the paving stones told their own tale. Even at the most casual glance, the town had been built for a population easily four times the size it now housed.

The town as a whole wasn't abandoned, though - smoke still rose from chimneys and the bakery still smelled of fresh bread. Tempest's mouth watered at the scent as her stomach reminded her that they'd subsisted on dried trail rations for days. It was one thing to endure on the road with what you had available, but the touch of fresh sourdough so close by had her licking her lips.

Her desire didn't go unnoticed as the robed stallion with them floated a chunk of bread over to her in a golden aura. She took it with a gentle smile - it wasn't warm, but it was fresh and soft as she chewed.

"Must be quite the change to have something like this," he ventured. "We're lucky to have a good rye crop and I assume that most of you out there aren't so fortunate."

Halfway through chewing, Tempest stopped. She looked to Starswirl - and he looked back with dire concern. He'd caught it too.

Starswirl was kind enough to ask it while Tempest finished her mouthful. "When you say 'out there', just what do you mean?"

"Script means out in the storm," chirruped Scribble, inserting herself into the conversation. "Beyond the barrier and in the blizzard."

The grey sage dourly grimaced at the implications of the young mare's words. Tempest, however, was the one who countered the statement. "Is that why you were so afraid when.." She paused for moment to mentally assign the robed stallion's name to him. "When Script found our hoofprints?"

Scribble eagerly nodded. "Well, yeah! Nopony has ever come through the blizzard before. So when there's a breach and all that's left are tracks, who knows what you could have been!"

With a little smirk, Script ducked back into the flow of the conversation. "What Scribble means is that the unknown is easy to be afraid of. But seeing that you're real and that, well..." Trailing off, Script half-shrugged and looked pointedly at Tempest's lack of a point on her horn.

"The House hasn't forgotten what we're here for," Scribble completed.

Another spark of hope welled up in Tempest's chest. They weren't immediately dismissing her as hopeless.

Of course before she could say anything, Bit rolled his eyes. "I thought I said we should wait until we got to the Prioress to talk about this?"

Reflexively, Scribble stuck out her tongue. "You're not the boss of me!"

That sent the group into more snickers and giggles. This time, Tempest allowed herself a thin smile to join in.

Reaching the priory didn't take long, even at their relatively sedate pace.

Unlike the surrounding town, the priory itself was no rough construction. Stone through and through, hewn in great slabs from the mountain itself and stacked into a veritable monastery-fortress. Surrounded by a two-story wall, the compound included a handful of smaller buildings - including a smokehouse, several storage sheds and a glass-roofed chapel - but was dominated by the monastery itself. As high as the surrounding palisade, it sprawled over an area almost as large as the Crystal Castle in Ponyville. The architecture was surprisingly simple, sticking to gabled shale-tile roofs and straight walls with little adornment. It was built functional rather than artistic, restricting the decorations to carvings of the six-ray sunrise over each window and door. At the center rose a tall belltower - one that finally stopped chiming as they came into the keep.

Entering through the west-facing gate of the outer wall, the nine didn't delay and beelined for the priory itself. There were a few other ponies around - most in the same sunrise-shaded robes that Script and Scribble were wearing or the same armor as Bit. They were arrayed for defense, scattered to spots around the wall and courtyard. Oddly, they stood in the open rather than behind any sort of cover - which implied to Tempest either a very strange defensive strategy or an idiot of a captain.

While the eyes of the defenders followed them, none moved to stop the returning group. All the eyes were on the two newcomers - and Tempest could feel the familiar settling of eyes on her jagged horn. The nine didn't pause to entertain and simply made way into the priory through a pair of heavy doors made of iron-reinforced wood.

The interior reflected the exterior in many ways - heavy stone all around, built to withstand both siege and century. It bore the weight of generations living and working within it, leaving smooth grooves in the floor where thousands of hooves had walked. Thick tapestries hung along the walls, most faded beyond recognition but bearing an old majesty and the marks of earnest care to preserve what could be saved. The great hall they entered into took up a large section of the structure's center, shooting off wings to the north and south. But it was the east door they headed for - going past passages that suggested the sweet smell of a kitchen and the mustier scent of a book-laden library. They passed into a short hallway as five of their escorts peeled away - and then they emerged into a room unlike the rest of the stoic stone structure.

Half outfitted as a dining area, the easternmost room of the priory was walled on three sides by glass. A solarium facing the direction of the dawning sun and edged with a wild variety of carefully curated greenery, it was surprisingly insecure compared to the rest of the stoic, solid structure. In the middle of seating for six in a space large enough for fifty was a pony taking tea.

She was older - not as much as Starswirl (even excluding his extra thousand years), but the lines around her eyes made clear she was no filly. She wore the same orange robe as the others over her pale golden yellow fur (and the robe in turn being partially hidden by her greying once-black mane), letting it conceal her Mark and much of her wiry frame. Tempest was immediately reminded of the spindle-legged unicorn nobles and socialites around Canterlot, though this unicorn seemed to be lean less from fashion and more from simple frailty. When she turned in her seat to face them it was with the careful slowness of someone recovering from an injury, as if expecting each movement to herald a spike of pain.

Still, she smiled at them - even if it was paper thin.

Bit was the one that stepped forward from the group, drawing beside her and turning to face the pair. "I would introduce Prioress Reliquary Heart, matron of the House of the Rising Sun." He paused as both newcomers bowed respectfully - Starswirl first, and Tempest following his cue. "Prioress, these two are visitors. From beyond the barrier."

That thin smile brightened slightly. "Beyond." The word was breathed out with the reverence of retelling a myth. "Well-- I--I'm sorry, travelers." She paused for a moment, mouth working the seemingly unfamiliar word around like hard candy. "It has been a very, very long time since we have welcomed anypony who could use that title. I'm sure you have a critically important mission, but first I must know - how did you survive to reach us? Is it a repeatable path?"

"By... walking?" Starswirl hesitated, confused by the question. "It was a treacherous trip but not unmanageable."

The Prioress nodded grimly. "Yes. You must be well experienced with hardship as well as brave. I admire your fortitude. How many lives did the journey cost? I ask so that we can give proper thanks for their sacrifice."

Again, the old sage hesitated. "I'm afraid I don't understand. It was just the two of us who made the journey." Starswirl glanced over to Tempest questioningly. "It wasn't that difficult."

"You still must be exhausted. Please, sit." She waved them over to two of the chairs near hers and poured out two more cups of tea - dark, with the slight woody hints to pin it as a chicory brew. The other two that remained - Bit and Scribble - took up places standing off to the side near the Prioress while the others left to continue about their duties. "The House will gladly do anything we can to help you if it's within our power. I suspect your injury is the reason?" Her eyes unsurprisingly cast to Tempest's jagged break.

Tempest nodded, not drinking her tea but instead holding it in her hooves to treasure the warmth. "Yeah. Starswirl told me about the origins of your order and that you might be able to help me. We visited Neigh Orleans where the Temple is nowdays, but they weren't able to help. So we came here."

Reliquary beamed happily. "Neigh Orleans survives and one of our outposts still exists there? That's wonderful news!"

Another glance between the pair of travelers, and then Starswirl spoke. "Pardon but... 'survives'? Why would you think it didn't?"

"Our histories call it a very small and remote location," noted the Prioress. "I suppose it's no surprise that some of the smaller settlements would have banded together to endure."

And then it clicked. Tempest's head jerked as the pieces finally came together. The sudden movement pre-empted Starswirl's next comment, drawing the attention of all the room to the soldier. "Prioress." She held her tone as steady as she could. "When was the last time somepony from the outside came here? You said it had been a long time, but just how long is that?"

Reliquary looked to Bit for a moment with a frown before answering. "Well... never, to be honest. Perhaps a few arrived in the very early days, but you are the first travelers to reach the House in dozens of generations."

"And how many have you sent out to explore?" Tempest leaned forward, one hind leg bouncing with nervous energy.

The question was answered even before the Prioress opened her mouth - her look of disgust and horror said it all. "None! I, nor any of my predecessors, would ever ask one of our ponies to go on a suicide mission like that. Just because you're an epic hero who can survive doesn't mean others can." The mare grimaced, biting back the rest of her outburst. "My apologies. That was uncalled for, but I'm certain you understand. In the first days, a few brave souls did venture out for aid - and none returned. Most ponies wouldn't survive for an hour, let alone the days it must have taken you to reach us."

Starswirl gasped as he connected the dots just as Tempest had two minutes before. His hooves shot up, covering his mouth as the gravity of the situation finally struck home.

Tempest pushed one more time. She had to be sure. "Prioress, I..." Holding herself back for a moment to get the phrasing right, she bit her lip. "What do you think is outside your barrier?"

The three natives knew something was wrong. Not what - their visible confusion and unease made that plain. But they could tell that something was happening. Still, the Prioress answered with minimal hesitation. "The sun and the moon still move, so we know the Princess is out there somewhere. Presumably she still holds court at the Castle of the Two Sisters, albeit alone after the tragedy of the Nightmare. And if Neigh Orleans survived, there must be other towns that raised their defenses in time."

"No!" Tempest's violent outburst made the Prioress flinch and both the other locals take a defensive step forward. "No, I mean closer than that. Where do you think the storm ends?"

"...Ends?"

And there it was. Tempest slumped back with a shuddering breath as her fear was confirmed. Starswirl took up the talking in her place. "Madam, we only came upon the leading edge of the blizzard a day ago. Two at the most, depending on how badly the storm fouled our sense of time."

The teaspoon clattered into Reliquary's teacup as her rose-tinted magic sputtered. She had no words - just painfully wide eyes that had lost all focus and most of their thought. Bit's expression was similar - slack and empty. Scribble handled it the best of them. She merely trembled and shook as emotion after emotion warred across her face for dominance. And she managed a single squeaked syllable. "what."

"Equestria lives," Starswirl assured them. "It thrives. It was you who was lost - we came here expecting to find an empty ruin. The House of the Rising Sun was said by history to have been abandoned in a terrible snowstorm and never rediscovered. The temple itself destroyed and all who dwelt within lost."

Beside the Prioress' chair Bit collapsed to the ground, chest heaving with heavy, panic-laden breaths. Scribble staggered to his side, taking his hoof in a rough attempt to provide comfort she didn't feel. The Prioress pinched her pale rose eyes shut to regain some focus. "I... I don't know," she admitted between gasping breaths. "I don't know what to say. There's other towns? Other ponies still?"

"Millions," Starswirl softly confirmed.

She laughed as she balanced on the edge of breakdown. "I don't even know what a million is."

"I understand just how you're feeling, madam. I was lost for a long time as well - trapped in Limbo and only recently rescued." Rising from his chair, Starswirl came to the Prioress' side and set a gentle hoof on her shoulder. "I don't know why this blizzard has continued to plague your town, but now that we know you're here I promise you. Equestria will come to your rescue."

Reliquary's eyes popped open in surprise. "You don't know why the storm is here?"

Starswirl shook his head with a soft jingle.

"Then... but..." An almost painful spasm screwed Reliquary's face to a sour grimace. "But if you don't know why it's here, then that means you didn't run into them. And if you leave again... how are you going to get past the windigoes?"

Both of Tempest's eyebrows spiked and her tongue outran her brain. "Windigoes are real?!"

Author's Note

Starswirl's next line: "When we get back, I really must look into Equestria's educational system. The history portion seems to be severely lacking."

6 - Piarist

It took time for all of them to calm down again, but eventually Tempest stopped hyperventilating about windigoes and the locals came to terms at the existence of an outside world. Not entirely - but enough to function, at least.

Scribble was dispatched to retrieve Brother Script - the Prioress explained in addition to being next in line for her role, he was their best chronicler and she wanted the coming conversation to be transcribed. But even in the handful of minutes she was gone, things went somewhat off the rails.

"As in the real Starswirl the Bearded." Reliquary Heart wobbled in her chair, ready to faint. "I-- I'm sorry, I thought when you initially said it I thought that your name was meant as tribute to the ancient sage. That you're the--" She whipped her head around to her guard captain, glee and awe barely held in check. "Bit, this is the real Starswirl!"

Bit wasn't much help, though he seemed more confused and off-balance than anything.

Fortunately, Starswirl laughed it off. "You are far from the first to make that assumption, Prioress. I have had quite a few encounters since my return where ponies have had trouble grasping who I am. I only ask that please, do remember that I am a pony rather than a myth. The universe has taken care to remind me that letting my ego take control can be ruinous."

"And that you're real," Tempest added at her own expense, tongue firmly in cheek.

Starswirl gave her a smiling nod. "I am."

The locals didn't entirely get it, but also didn't comment more than a confused look. "We are incredibly fortunate that a pony like you has come to rescue us," the Prioress noted eagerly. "And an obviously equal hero in the Commander as well!"

Tempest shifted uneasily. "Actually, I'm less hero and more--"

"More legend," Starswirl interrupted. "Her adventures have mostly taken place outside of Equestria, but the Princesses are fortunate to have earned her respect and service."

Confusion was Tempest's first reaction - followed by a grateful look to Starswirl. He winked back at her.

Bit paid less attention to that. "Princesses," he observed. "As in plural."

"Five," Starswirl clarified.

The guard swayed on his hooves at the implications of that.

Fortunately, it was that moment Scribble and Script returned. Behind them, Reliquary's flickering rosy magic closed the door firmly. "Now that we're all here," she began, "Let me begin by saying that I want to keep what's discussed here secret for the moment. What you've told us already, Starswirl, is enough to cause untold chaos among the townsfolk. Perhaps even enough to have some attempt to go beyond the barrier - which would assuredly not go well without significant preparation and planning." She shook her head with a frown. "No, it's far better to remain silent for now and let them know once rescue has arrived. There will be trouble enough as we adjust. Causing more now won't benefit anypony."

"I agree," Starswirl stated with a firm nod. "I presume that these three are your most trusted, Prioress?"

The Prioress smiled demurely. "You have no need to use a title with me - Reliquary is more than fine." Then she confirmed his question with a nod. "Bit Bridle is our captain of the guard. Brother Luminous Script is both our best scribe and is to be my eventual successor. And..." She chuckled quietly. "Well, calling Scribble my assistant does a dire disservice for how little I would accomplish without her."

The chipper young mare beamed widely at the praise.

Script raised a hoof. "Um, pardon me. I think I'm missing something important in this conversation."

Tempest decided it was her turn to explain. "Well--"

Instead, Bit interrupted. "He's the original Starswirl the Bearded from a thousand years ago. She's Tempest Shadow, Commander of the Solar Guard and hero of Equestria. The blizzard isn't actually endless and most of the world is fine, the five Princesses just had no idea we were here instead of being an empty ruin. And if I'm reading the Prioress right, now we're going to start discussing a plan to drive away the windigoes and rejoin Equestira."

Script stood there, frozen in place as several world shattering revelations crashed into him at the same time.

Glancing over to Tempest, Bit shrugged. "Sorry. Script is better when you pull the bandage off and let him have one large breakdown instead of several smaller ones."

With the grace of a veteran in dealing with such breakdowns, Scribble's horn lit and formed an oil-shimmer globe around Script right as he started screaming.

"He'll be back with us in a minute," she gingerly advised.

It was closer to three, but when the globe dissolved Script had managed to tone himself down to merely frazzled. Adjusting his robe, the chronicler cleared his throat. "Yes. Well, that's a lot to take in."

Bit and Scribble both burst into hysteric giggling.

Prioress Heart let out a quiet, amused sigh. "Now that we're all here, perhaps we can get to the topic at hoof?" All of them sat now, filling the chairs of the little dining area in the huge solarium. "Starswirl, Commander Shadow. You are familiar with the world beyond the storm - if they were made aware of our situation, would they help us?"

"In an instant," Starswirl assured.

Tempest nodded in agreement. "They would probably take some time first to figure out how to help, but they would."

Script raised a hoof. "What do you mean 'how'?"

"Well..." Tempest paused for a moment, trying to be diplomatic about her phrasing. "Maybe they would drive off the windigoes, but the best way might also be to simply get everypony out. Windigoes need hatred, despair and disharmony to survive. With nopony here, they'll have to leave."

"Hmmm." Their eyes went to Starswirl, who was stroking his beard. "That does raise an interesting question. Why are the windigoes here in the first place? Something must have attracted them." He, in turn, looked to the Prioress.

She didn't answer - Script did. "Before, we thought it was all of Equestria. But in retrospect..." He paused to consider. "It was shortly after the Lunar Revolt. Princess Celestia sent many of the long-term wounded to us for care, as the House was equipped to handle many more patients than we had at the time and we were remote enough to keep them isolated during such a tumultuous period." His horn lit gold, picking up the teapot and pouring himself a cup. "But that meant there was a large number of angry, bitter Lunars in the House as well as a cadre of wary Solar guards to watch them, all with little better to spend their time on beyond anger, paranoia and despair."

"Which fermented to a windigoes' brew," Starswirl concluded thoughtfully.

Script's ears flattened. "That we were used to treating unicorns exclusively didn't help. Our ancestors weren't prepared to give proper care to many of the wounded. They did their best, but resources were stretched thin."

Grimly nodding, Tempest understood. "The Lunars didn't see a hospital. They saw a prison camp. And with Princess Luna banished to the moon, they didn't have any hope." Around her, the locals shifted uncomfortably at the name of the alicorn.

Reliquary raised her head and her voice. "In their defense - when the time came and we had the choice to band together against the storm or die, they stood with us and gave everything they could. We all have a little bit of Lunar blood in our veins and the division between Solar and Lunar are long lost."

Starswirl stroked his beard - Tempest had identified by this point it was a tell that his mind had wandered away from the conversation and on to something else. "That again raises my curiosity. How did you manage to survive and create that ingenious barrier?"

"We nearly didn't," voiced Script. "It took our ancestors two weeks before they realized the blizzard wasn't going away and that they had to do something before everypony froze. Fortunately one of them was my ancestor, Sunrise Storm!" Beaming, his back straightened and chest puffed out pridefully.

Off to the side, Bit groaned. "Here we go again."

Starswirl perked up. "Wait - would that happen to be Mystic Storm's son?" He laughed. "I remember that young colt when she was under my tutelage."

Scribble joined Bit in rolling her eyes. "And now Script's going to be even worse."

"He spent more time soiling himself than reading," Starswirl critically added.

After a momentary pause, both Bit and Scribble broke out in a frenzy of laughter while the distraught Script buried his head in his hooves.

The Prioress - managing to hold it back to merely an amused giggle and a wide smile - tried to resume the story. "Sunrise Storm was one of our patients when the windigoes arrived and a gifted magical researcher. Using some of the old texts about how unicorn magic could move the sun and moon, he created a shield spell that unified the efforts of several casters. According to the stories, the first casting exhausted nearly every unicorn in the town but it created a wide bubble that shielded us from the storm." She sighed, head shaking. "It was only afterwards that our ancestors found the presence of the windigoes as they pounded against the barrier. They assumed that all of Equestria had fallen to the creatures - a reasonable assumption with Nightmare Moon's rebellion so fresh - and we spent the next ten generations refining the barrier to its current state."

"And the power to maintain it for so long?" Starswirl leaned forward in his chair.

"Derived from the ancient sun-raising rituals and channeling the natural ley line conjunction of the valley to boost the casters." Script - still blushing with embarrassment for his proud ancestor - elaborated on that part. "As long as we've kept six unicorns feeding their magic into the spell and acting as conduits for the natural energy flow at all times, the barrier stays up. Technically it's actually the same casting as when we first erected it. We've just been switching off which ponies are providing the power."

"Originally," explained the Prioress, "We had the population to rotate out frequently. Today every adult in the town spends one six hour shift each moon to keep the spell going."

A shiver passed down Tempest's spine. "That must be taxing," she murmured.

Scribble nodded. "You can see what it's done to Prioress Heart. Her shift was yesterday and she's only just now able to walk again."

Almost violently, the Prioress clicked her tongue at her assistant. "I'm fine, Scribble. You act sometimes as if I'm a thousand years old instead of fifty."

Her assistant countered just as swiftly and firmly. "You slept for fourteen hours and you still can't stand without wobbling."

"Still," rumbled Starswirl as he changed the subject away from the budding argument, "The average pony body is not meant to channel that much power on such a frequent basis. I say that speaking as one who saw the sacrifices of just that sort of effort - it surely is a detriment to your people's health."

Hesitantly, Script confirmed it. "At the beginning when we had the population to only do it once a year or so, it wasn't noticeable. But you're right," he admitted. "As we've had to do our parts more frequently, it's had a negative effect on everypony's health. Nothing immediate but exhaustion! But, well. Life expectancy is shorter than it was in our ancestors' time."

"And you keep having to pull the barrier in," Tempest pointed out.

By the Prioress' side, Scribble grimaced. "You heard me worrying about losing the blackberries, didn't you."

"Wouldn't want to lose those." Tempest winked at the scholarly mare, who's teal fur had turned more purple from her blush. "But my point is that the barrier is costing you more and doing less."

"It is," confirmed Reliquary. "Our best guess is that we have only another five or six generations before our numbers become too few. And that is likely what has fed the windigoes across the years. Though the fractures between the Solars and the Lunars healed, we have spent centuries in a dire situation."

Scribble's usually boisterous voice was hushed, throat tight. "Even once our ancestors established the fields, we've always been on the edge of running out of food. And when the seasons shift beyond the barrier, the cold is overwhelming."

"And we always thought we were alone and the world lost," Bit added solemnly. "If the rest of Equestria is full of life and hope like you say, then we're the one oasis of despair in the middle of it. The windigoes probably wouldn't leave because there's nowhere else for them to go."

With a clop of his hooves, Starswirl stood. "Well then it's a good thing we came, isn't it? This is an unexpected development but not an unmanageable one. Once word of the situation reaches the Princesses, you won't have to worry about maintaining the spell anymore."

The four local unicorns looked between each other with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Not to insult the Starswirl," Script eventually ventured, "But just how are they going to find out? You might have snuck in past the windigoes but if you try to leave they're sure to hunt you."

Dismissively, Starswirl ignored the concern with his usual confidence. "I'll simply teleport out. I was already prepared to return to the nearest village that way when Miss Shadow and I completed our study of the ruins we thought were here. I can easily do so now, catch the train to Canterlot and have Princess Celestia briefed before sundown."

"You can telepor-- Of course you can teleport, you're Starswirl the Bearded." Script buried his face in his hooves. "Why am I even asking that question?"

Bit reached over, patting the monk on the shoulder.

As Starswirl chuckled, Tempest actually answered. "It's an uncommon spell but not unheard of. And I know what you're thinking - stop. Even if somepony here had known how to, it wouldn't have helped you. How would you know where to teleport to?"

"Indeed," Starswirl added. "All of you - and those who came before you - should be proud. You survived and kept your ponies safe for hundreds of years under conditions that would have taxed even the greatest of heroes. But now it's time for you to come home to Equestria."

Prioress Heart stood, chair scraping on the stone floor as she pushed off of it. Just as Scribble had accused, Reliquary wobbled slightly as she rose, though her frail weariness was overwhelmed by her determination. "I agree. I'm not certain what awaits us out there, but it must be better than living in constant fear that the windigoes will break through. We will never be able to thank you enough."

An earnest smile touched Starswirl's face. "No thanks are needed. I expect I should be ready to start the journey in a few days."

The ever-earnest Scribble jumped in. "Wait, why not do it now? Is teleporting something you need to charge up?"

"Not at all," intoned the sorcerer. "But it will give me fair time to peruse your archives for information to help Miss Shadow."

Another chair scraped as Bit leapt to his hooves. "What?! Why would you wait? If we could get out now--"

Starswirl held up a hoof. "If I may?" He paused, making sure Bit (and the others by extension) would allow him to speak. "What the Commander said earlier is correct - it's very likely that once I contact the Princesses, they will decide that the best solution is to abandon the House until the windigoes get hungry and leave. Or at the least to ensure that nopony is caught in the fallout from the battle. That would mean leaving behind the collected knowledge of this place for months, possibly even years to be certain the threat is gone. We journeyed here to find healing for her horn, and I am loathe to come this close and abandon her quest." The old sage glanced at the faces around him - chief among them Tempest and her grateful look of relief. "You said yourselves that it would be generations before this town would be at risk. Surely you can spare three or four days so that we can complete our task."

The Prioress stepped forward, drawing beside Starswirl and facing her subordinates. "He is correct. The House of the Rising Sun was founded to help ponies like Commander Tempest. It is our solemn duty - passed down by our ancestors - to aid her. Doing so does no harm to us and even moreso we owe both she and Starswirl a great debt. I, for one, intend to work beside him to find what he searches for in our archives."

Instantly, Scribble's ears perked. "Oh! Is that an option? I'll help too! I mean, you'll need me and I would be honored."

Script loudly sighed. "I suppose that I'll be there as well. I know you can't complete a big task like this without me, Reliquary. And you'll leave my shelves disorganized." Of course, he was grinning as she said it - and there was a knowing wink traded between him and the Prioress.

"Well," Bit contributed, "I'm not really much good at research so I'll stick to what I do best." He offered a hoof out to Tempest. "Commander, presuming you're not the bookish type either maybe I can show you around? I'd love to hear a few war stories from somepony who's actually experienced life outside and you could probably teach my guards and I a few things."

Tempest hesitated. She looked to Starswirl - he nodded to her with a knowing smile. Her response was a sigh of relief and to take Bit's offered hoof. "I'm terrible at research and studying," she confirmed. "I'd be glad to help by staying out of their way."

All six shared a laugh and broke apart to their ways.

Author's Note

Okay, I'll just be leaving this shoe here in the air. Should be fine. Gravity won't have it drop or anything.

Also, only Starswirl could get away with a flex like "I knew your great-great-great-great-grandfather. He soiled himself. Like, a lot."

7 - Teutonic

"I could tell you didn't want to be trapped in the archives, spending days researching." Bit led Tempest away from the solarium at a leisurely pace. "You're a pony of action, like me."

Tempest raised a silent eyebrow down at the guard.

She didn't need to do anything more to drive his gaze groundwards in shame. "Alright, yes not quite like you," he admitted.

They passed from the main hall of the priory out into the courtyard. "You don't want to be like me," Tempest advised. "Starswirl was too generous before. He means well, but I'm no hero."

"You've seen battle, that's obvious. I can't say that." Bit kicked the priory's doors closed behind them with petulantly frustrated force. "Outside of the occasional disagreement in town, the only reason there's even a guard here is the once-a-generation windigo that manages to slip through the barrier."

That little statement explained a lot to Tempest. The odd positions of the guards when they'd entered made sense - defensive positions didn't do much when your enemy was the wind. "And that's what you thought we were at first," she concluded.

A nod from Bit confirmed it. "Breaks in the barrier happen and they're usually minor. Normally it's just a matter of bringing six of us to cast and reinforce the gap temporarily, then send a runner back to town so that everypony knows what's going on. Every few decades there's a more serious one and a windigo gets inside."

"Just one?"

He nodded to her question. "Just one. If the barrier was open long enough for more than one to get in, we wouldn't be here anymore."

For a moment, Tempest thought as they walked. The courtyard passed into the town as she strolled beside Bit and let him guide her to... where ever it was he was going to. "It sounds like that might be a good thing. If you can get the windigoes one at a time, you can defeat them while they're alone."

But Bit shook his head as they turned to the left. "That's the thing - they can't be. They're not..." He paused to mull it over and find the best word he could. "They're not real. Not physical?" He shook his head again, this time to clear that thought away. "Concentrated magic can drive them back, but nothing we have is strong enough to destroy one. According to legend, even the Fire of Friendship was only enough to make them leave."

"Shame," she drawled and they lapsed into a brief silence.

Now that she wasn't so focused on a possible betrayal and the uncertainty of the situation, Tempest had time to properly take in the town around them. History wasn't her strongest suit, but it wouldn't have surprised her if a historian claimed this was just how ponies lived a thousand years before.

It was the small things that really struck Tempest - like that none of the buildings had glass in their windows, with only empty space behind their shutters. How up one of the side streets they passed was a young colt hauling a flatbed cart around, collecting chamber pots to haul out to the fields. Or how there were no shops or stores - just workshops with a few completed wares laying out on a table beside where the craftspony was doing their work.

The ponies themselves stuck out to her as well. Tempest had spent much of her life outside of Equestria, so unlike the average pony her first instinct wasn't to look at somepony's cutie mark. Her eyes, instead, took in the wider view. The first thing that struck her was that the ponies around her were unicorns. Every single one sported a horn on their head - proud, whole and active. Glows of a hundred different colors passed by as they walked, frustratingly dancing around Tempest's vision as the townsfolk used their magic for anything and everything.

The second thing she noticed after that buck from fate to her ego was the size of everypony. Bit - who trotted at her side making conversation she barely paid attention to - was normal size for a stallion. Which was to say a good head shorter than Tempest and significantly slimmer. What became obvious as they went through the town was that Bit stood taller and bulkier than nearly any other pony they saw. Their colors were dimmer, too - not grey, but most of the ponies they passed looked washed-out. As if they'd been run through the laundry a few too many times.

But all that fell away quickly as for the second time something tickled Tempest's nose. The slight tang of sourdough, still seeping out of the open-air bakery that Bit was leading her towards. The same one she had sniffed before, with a roaring bank of six brick-laid ovens beside a soot-stained house and surrounded by counters with benches. A handful of ponies sat there - all unicorns - munching away at the fresh loaves with a bit of honey and blackberry preserves.

Tempest's stomach growled like an irate manticore.

Beside her, Bit chuckled as he slipped onto one of the bakery benches. "Don't think I missed Script giving you a bite earlier. You haven't eaten much on the journey?"

She nodded, dropping wearily beside him as the struggles of the last few days finally caught up with her. "Just dried trail rations for the most part. Haven't had anything fresh since we left Stirrup Hill four days ago." Tempest paused as she felt one of her most familiar but least favorite feelings: being stared at. With an uneasy shift and rising hesitation in her voice, she soldiered forward. "I'm going to guess those are the blackberries that Scribble mentioned before?"

Nodding, Bit levitated a loaf over to Tempest as well as a second for himself. "They are. She really likes them, but they're a bit too strong for me." Tearing his loaf in half, Bit drizzled a tiny bit of the thick honey onto it. "She's got quite the sweet tooth, though it's nothing compared to Script's. For me, a little goes a long way."

For a long moment Tempest simply held her loaf in her hooves, nose practically pressed against it and taking in the fresh scent. Neither Bit nor the other three ponies at the bakery said a word as she let her eyes drift closed, shutting out vision in favor of other senses. The scent; the warmth in her hooves; then the crackle of the crust breaking under her teeth. Tempest chewed slowly, savoring the flavor of that first bite.

She only opened her eyes again when she swallowed. And she found everypony staring at her.

Tempest shrank down into the bench.

"You moaned," Bit pointed out with barely restrained amusement.

"...'s been a long trip," came her miserable admission.

The honey pot floated across the table to Tempest. "Yes, I'd say that it's not easy get here from outside," Bit stated with far too much emphasis on the last two words. "But when you've been sent by the Princess you have to do what you're told."

All around them, whispered conversations hissed to life - not only among the others at the bakery but from a good dozen more nearby who had been surreptitiously watching. It spread quickly, bringing more eyes and ears focused on them.

Tempest grabbed Bit by the collar of his armed vest and hauled him close. "What are you doing?" She barely kept her voice low enough to call it a whisper.

The guard smirked back and kept his voice low like hers. "Playing to the crowd, Commander. We all know each other, and that means everypony's curious about who you are and how you got here. We don't get strangers. It's better to tell them something than nothing. Besides," he added, "It's true, isn't it?"

Part of Tempest wanted to object that they had sent themselves more than the Princess had - but there was little point, and Bit was right. She and Starswirl were too distinctive to blend, even if they hadn't started the day by entering town with an armed escort. As much as the Prioress had wanted to keep things quiet, the rumors would be flying no matter what and they had to be handled somehow.

With a sigh, Tempest let Bit go and sat up straight again. "I suppose I shouldn't argue since I'm getting a meal out of this." She dug her teeth in again, tearing a chunk of bread away. The honey was considered but dismissed in favor of wolfing the bite down faster. "With your situation, I'm surprised you're letting me have this like it was no big deal. I had been expecting tighter rationing."

"We have enough," the guard noted. "But you're right - like Scribble said, it wasn't always that way. Stories talk about how our ancestors were on the edge of starvation for a long time. If it weren't for the few earth ponies that came here with the Lunars and the Solars, they might not have survived. Today there's few enough of us to not overtax our supplies as long as we're careful."

The middle bit was what caught Tempest's attention. "Do you still have some earth ponies around?"

Her response was a nod. "A few. I think there's maybe..." Bit paused to count in his head. "Ten? Ten non-unicorns in the town. There's never been very many, but each generation has some. One in a hundred foals or so. It's pretty random - nearly everypony here has some non-unicorn in their bloodline." He laughed. "Script loves to talk about how he can trace his lineage back to Sunrise Storm - I can trace mine back to Spurious Larhorsius when he commanded the Solar detachment, so I've got some pegasus in me. It shows up about every six or so generations. And it's why I've got such an amazing mane." Bit dashingly tossed his deep indigo mane before batting his eyelashes.

Tempest stared back at him over her bread, unamused.

"...What?"

With the patience of a preschool teacher confronted by macaroni art, Tempest took a deep breath and explained. "I don't know who that is, but I'm sure your mane is excellent and it's entirely his fault."

The fun ruined, Bit gloomily slapped a thick gob of honey onto his bread.

One of the other stallions at the counter nudged Bit with his elbow. "I like her."

"Shut up," came the sour reply - right before they both laughed.

And Tempest managed a little smile.

"I'd love to, but I'm exhausted." Tempest shook her head as she and Bit returned to the monastery after a walk around town. "Giving your guards a run for their money would be a great chance to get some exercise, but after pushing through the blizzard? Now that I've had something to eat I just want to curl up by a fire and sleep." She quietly chuckled, thoughts flitting away. "Maybe I'm going soft, but I think I've earned it after the last few days. I can run you through the paces tomorrow just as easily as I could today."

Disappointed, Bit tried one last time as they reached the outer walls of the compound. "How about you just watch and give them some pointers? I can have one of them bring you a chair. Maybe with some mulled wine so you can critique in style and comfort?"

She shook her head. "Thanks but no." Then Tempest frowned as she looked ahead to where a group of unicorns were gathered in the courtyard - rather than the entrance that should have been in front of them. "I said--"

"Just walking past," Bit assured her. "Totally coincidence. Also I'd steered us this way before you said no."

"You're as frustrating as the Bearers," she grumbled. But she also didn't change their course.

The guards - two dozen in total - were arranged loosely around the yard and were engaged in some sort of game. Tempest hadn't seen it as a military drill before, but it was easy to recognize - it was just catch, after all. There were ten or so lacquered wicker balls being tossed around between the guards, each trying to catch and throw as quickly as they could.

One of the balls flew past them as they approached, slipping out of a guard's grip.

A hint of an ursa's paw flashed in the corner of Tempest's eye, making her flinch and fight the urge to flee.

Bit caught Tempest's reaction, mistaking it for surprise rather than painful memory. "Field dexterity," he explained. "The exercise leader will randomly call out a stop, and anypony who's got a ball in their grip has to take a lap. Drop one or miss your throw and that's another lap. It's fairly standard stuff."

Nodding slightly, Tempest concentrated on the present that was before her and followed the motion of one of the throws - from one to a second to a third in rapid succession. Each toss pushed down a little on her urge to run and hide. "I get that, I'm just not used to seeing it as a drill."

"We generally spend one day on this, one on weights to exercise field strength and a third on projection accuracy." Bit puffed out his chest a little as they continued past. "We're pretty good, if I say so myself."

Tempest's eyes zoomed in, locked onto the stringy physiques of the guards. "Not that I doubt you but what about hoof-to-hoof?"

Several rapid blinks were her response. "...Why?"

Now it was Tempest's turn to be confused. "To hit your opponent?"

Bit chuckled quietly, head shaking. "That's silly, why would we ever do that? We've got horns, why wouldn't we use them? After all, windigoes are insubstantial and they fly so--"

"What about other problems?" Tempest cut him off, her heart eager to show the guard captain the mistake she knew he was making. "If somepony in town gets into a fight you can't just blast them."

He shrugged back. "We grab them with our magic."

"And if they're strong enough to fight against that?"

Bit shrugged again. "Then two of us grab them, or however many are needed. Nopony's strong enough to fight off being lifted by four guards at once."

Tempest's immediate urge was to challenge four of the guards and beat them to within an inch of their collective lives.

She bit down on her tongue to keep from saying it.

Ignorant of Tempest's narrowly avoided challenge, Bit continued on blithely. "Maybe out beyond the barrier you need to use other methods for defense, but any unicorn worth their magic can handle the basics." He chuckled playfully.

Tempest did not.

Bit's amused laugh cut short as he realized he was being glared at. "I--sorry, Commander. It's obvious that you're extremely capable in spite of your injury and--"

Seven of the ten wicker balls were dropped at the sound of Captain Bit Bridle impacting the outer wall of the priory. By the time the guards spun back around to look at Tempest, her hooves were firmly on the ground again and the only indication that she'd just bucked the guard captain half a city block was the way her black frock was still settling back down to her hips.

She didn't look to see if he got up.

The late lunch tided Tempest over - she skipped dinner. Instead, she chose to watch the town. For years she'd operated out of airships, floating high above cities just as often as she was down in them, so the peaks of the priory's roof were comforting despite the lack of an engine's hum.

Down below, the town had fallen into the darkness of early evening. Pinpricks wove through the streets - near-universal hornlight answering why the town lacked streetlamps. There had been no signal to it, just the slow flicker of one light after another coming to life as the valley descended into the night.

Behind her, an unshod hoof scraped on the slate roof tiles as somepony approached.

Tempest lit her horn, the vibrant cyan sparking dangerously.

The hoofsteps stopped.

She doused her magic.

"I'm sorry," Bit said at a respectful (but not entirely safe) distance. "I know that came out wrong and I didn't--" He sighed. "I'm sorry, Commander. I suppose there's some things I just take for granted."

"I forgive you." Being able to say that was a testament to what Twilight had seen in Tempest. She shifted slightly to her right, making space despite the wide roof being otherwise empty. Bit got the hint and sat down beside her.

No words were said for several minutes more. She watched the town and he watched her for a sign.

In time, Tempest found words - though not the ones he was hoping for. "If we don't have to evacuate the town, I think it might be a good idea to bring Princess Luna here."

Bit stiffened. "Wait, but Nightmare Moon--"

"Defeated." Tempest internally flinched as the words came out more vicious than she'd intended. "And purified. Princess Luna returned a few years ago and rules with her sister. I haven't had the privilege of meeting her..." She pursed her lips for a moment into a wry smile Bit couldn't see. "Of meeting her socially, but everything I've been told makes me think she'd like this." Waving a hoof at the town, Tempest pointed to the distant dance of hornlights. "It's almost like a sky full of stars below you."

Shifting his gaze from Tempest to the town, Bit squinted a little. "...Yeah. Now that you say it, I guess I can see what you mean."

"Never looked at it from up here?" He shook his head, and Tempest continued. "Everypony should try it some time. At least the ones who aren't already able to fly." She snorted. "Pegasi probably would just wonder why I find it beautiful."

Pieces came together inside Bit's head - it was easy to read on his face. "...Because they take it for granted."

Tempest nodded. "They could see this any night they felt like. It's always available to them, so they forget what it means."

The guard sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "I really am sorry, Commander."

"Still forgiven," she reminded with a slight smirk. "Even if you weren't, I think bucking you into a wall would count as making up for it."

Bit twisted slightly, showing off the pair of blossoming bruises in his left side. "Not what I expected for my first wound in combat, but I'll take it." He tried to laugh - but it died in his throat half-born. "I know that's probably silly, but you're the... every hero and notable pony I've ever known of existed centuries ago. Nothing really significant has happened here in generations. Now I finally get to meet an actual hero and I immediately insult her. I feel like an idiot."

Tempest pulled her eyes away from the town and to her companion on the roof. "We all make mistakes, Bit. Once we're done with saving everypony here, we can sit down and I'll tell you about the ones I've made. What makes us is how we handle our mistakes - do we learn from them or do we embrace them?" She stood, legs stretching. "That was a hard lesson for me to understand, and I made the wrong choice for a long, long time. You should sleep on that."

Nodding slowly, Bit watched her rise. "And you?"

She smiled. "I'm gonna sleep because I've spent a day and a half marching through a windigo blizzard. And I'm going to learn from my most recent mistake and bring actual winter clothing next time."

Author's Note

Spurious Larhorsius is, of course, a reference to one of my all-time favorite fics, Luna's Daughters by SockPuppet.

Also it occurred to me in the final edit of this that Tempest likely has a case of sfairesphobia - fear of spherical things - and the guards tossing a dozen of them around in front of her probably wouldn't go too well. Sometimes last second edits are important!

8 - Jesuit

Breakfast was simple enough - oat porridge with elderberries. A massive cauldron in the middle of the monastery collectively fed the inhabitants of the fortified structure as they gathered around one end of the two long tables in the central gallery. Like so many other parts of the town, it was a titanic space suited for more than two hundred ponies - and here it held less than three dozen.

Tempest remained silent through the meal, though nopony noticed. They were too busy listening as Starswirl regaled them with stories from his adventuring days a thousand years before. He sat beside Reliquary Heart, the older mare cheerfully laughing at each anecdote. Around her the others did as well - Scribble to her right, Script and Bit to the left past Starswirl. Tempest drew next to no attention as they ate. This was Starswirl's stage, and she was satisfied to let him have it. Obviously Bit forcing the issue by taking her into town the day before had lifted the half-hearted attempt to keep the visitors secret. Judging by the way she laughed and smiled beside Starswirl, the Prioress didn't seem to mind.

None of them really noticed Tempest until she stood to leave. That, at least, got Scribble's attention since they were beside each other.

The youthful assistant turned her head like an owl's. "Commander?"

Tempest shook her head, immediately warding off any concerns. "Going for a morning trot," she explained. And it was truthful - though at the same time it wasn't what ruled Tempest's mind. Her thoughts were focused just as much on what purpose she even served by being here. With the monks and scribes helping Starswirl, he didn't need her to search for information. Similarly, the town had operated for centuries just fine; her skills weren't helpful and her lack of magic meant that she couldn't take part in most of their work. All she had ahead was a week or so of spinning her wheels and waiting for others to take action as a city full of unicorns stole glances at her horn. Years of hard battle - both for the Storm King and against his legacy - had abruptly fallen into a directionless vacation.

At least keeping up her conditioning with a jog let her be alone.

Fortunately the curtain wall created an almost perfect track for the run: a continuous circle around the monastery, wide enough in most places for several ponies side by side and lacking any real obstacles. She couldn't get lost and nopony would disturb her.

And none did for the first three laps. On the fourth, there were two ponies waiting as she passed the main gates. Tempest jogged by, and both Luminous Script and Scribble fell in - one on either side of her. Out of curiosity, she slowed down enough so they could keep up.

"If anypony joined me, I would have expected Bit."

Script gave a little chuckle as he struggled to keep even the more sedate pace. "Oh no, he's having a lazy day. It's his turn to maintain the barrier is this afternoon, and he always takes the day off beforehoof. He's eager to claim he's spending time gathering his strength and centering himself for the task, but he mostly spends it reading romance poetry and playing cards."

That earned a laugh from Tempest. "I didn't figure him for a poet."

"That would be my fault," Script admitted with a smile. "I convinced him to read my work and the poor fool was hooked. He hasn't a clue when it comes to writing his own as he has no sense of meter, but he enjoys reading it."

On her other side, Scribble broke out into giggles. "His poetry's almost as bad as your playing, Script." He shot his companion a playfully hurt glare, and Tempest raised an eyebrow. Scribble was eager to explain. "Script's been trying to teach himself how to play the dulcimer for years, but he's terrible at it."

Sticking out his tongue over Tempest's back, Script returned fire. "Not all of us are blessed by our Mark! I'm decent, you're just overly critical."

Tempest slowed her trot slightly more, taking the prompt to actually look at the cutie marks of her companions for the first time. Both were partially concealed by the robes they wore, but their jogging jostled enough to give her a glimpse.

Script's was easy enough to decipher - golden calligraphy flowing from the tip of a white quill. Scribble's, on the other hoof, was more perplexing - five parallel lines in black, dotted by quarter-notes in a rainbow of colors.

Helpfully, Scribble was quick to jump to explain. "It's music!" She fired the response off fast enough to make it obvious she had been asked the question many times before.

"...Well yes," deadpanned Tempest.

The smaller mare flushed. "You just--"

"She's wondering what it has to do with scribbling," Script helpfully pointed out.

"Oh! Oh, um, sorry! I guess I forgot--" Scribble cleared her throat - and paused as they jogged through one of the towers along the wall, forced briefly to line up and pass through the narrower doorways. On the other side, Scribble resumed as they retook formation. "My name wasn't originally Scribble. It was Joyous Ode. Everypony just calls me Scribble because, well, they say my hornwriting's terrible but it's actually that I developed my own shorthoof system so I could take notes more quickly for Prioress Heart! There's not a lot of need for a full time composer, so I started out helping her and it sort of stuck."

Something caught in Tempest's throat - a lump of words that she both needed to say and refused to let out. "I can understand not using your original name," she hedged. And she sped up as well, pulling ahead of the other two.

They both trotted quicker to try and keep up. "Well that was a weird and extremely leading statement!" Scribble was already sweating hard as she struggled at what Tempest considered an only slightly brisk pace.

"Aren't you two supposed to be helping Starswirl and the Prioress," growled Tempest, somewhere between a question and an accusation.

Faring slightly better than his companion scribe, Script managed a knowing grin. "We decided to give the two of them some time alone together."

"Yeah!" Scribble snickered cheerfully. "I don't know if they noticed but we can see the eyes they're making at each other!"

Automatic revulsion boiled out of Tempest's gut before she could suppress it, and she stuck out her tongue with disgust. "Eugh. Really? Starswirl's ancient!"

Her two trotting companions broke out into childish laughter. "Reliquary isn't young, either," Script playfully pointed out.

Scribble winked. "I think she's dreaming of being an adventurer again."

Tempest blinked. "She is? I thought that was Bit's role, not hers."

Scoffing, Script rolled his eyes - and nearly tripped over a slightly out of place stone as penance. "Let me guess, Bit gave you his 'I wish I could see battle' whine yesterday?" A nod from Tempest confirmed it. "There's a reason that he and Reliquary get along so well."

"Prioress Heart is a good pony and she cares about us all." A bit of defensiveness leaked into Scribble's voice, though it wasn't clear just who it was directed at. "But yeah. She's a great leader but I know she wishes she didn't have to be. I mean, there's a reason her Mark is a caged heart."

Script gave his own addition to that. "If we weren't here, I'm certain that the name Reliquary Heart would have been known across Equestria by the time she was thirty. Probably as much for causing trouble as it would have been for helping others. She's got the soul of an adventurer even if she has the mind of a leader."

"And never had the chance to follow her calling." Tempest frowned a little as she pieced it together. "Hm. And I suppose you're much the same, Scribble, with your Mark."

Surprisingly, the assistant shook her head. "Nope! I mean, it's kind of sad that there really isn't a wider call for musical composition but I'm happy with doing it my spare time! I know that what I do is a big help to Prioress Heart and everypony that lives here - and I'll be the same help to Script when he becomes Prior."

"Hopefully not for a while," he groaned. "I still don't understand why she decided to name me her successor already. Reliquary's going to be leading us for a long time still."

"Or not. Once the Princesses hear about things, she might have the chance to go adventuring." Tempest tried to be gentle about the reminder, but her blunt failure made clear that being gentle was not one of her strengths.

Script banged the side of his barrel against the stones as he failed to curve with the wall. He fell behind briefly before galloping to catch up again. "If it weren't for the fact that she couldn't possibly have planned this, I would be quite angry at Reliquary for trying to get me to take over early."

To her other side, Scribble broke out into giggles.

Tempest gave the scribes credit - both Script and Scribble managed to last almost twenty minutes before they finally gave up running. Granted it was twenty minutes at a reduced pace, but she hadn't expected them to make it beyond ten.

Once they had begged forgiveness for not being able to continue and stopped, she finally had the chance to get some real exercise. Not merely a jog, but a proper run. Sides heaving, hooves pounding, sweat flowing, heart thumping. She ran, each galloping step striking sparks as iron-shod hooves slammed against thousand year old stones. Tempest held nothing back as she lost herself in the physicality of the moment - a moment where she stopped existing as a pony and became a force. Became motion instead of thought.

It was only when three tones rang out from the tower bell - F-sharp, each half a minute apart - that the momentum became a pony again. Tempest slowed and as she came to a halt? Her need for oxygen caught up. She lurched, leaning against the battlement wall as she panted and let the chill air slowly take the sweat from her coat.

Legs aching with a head-clearing burn, Tempest roused herself after a minute of rest to take a cool-down trot back to the courtyard. But a glance there - and to the guards practicing (and mostly failing) to lift heavy rocks with their magic - made Tempest decide to spend her time somewhere else. The little sidelong looks at her made clear nopony in the courtyard had forgotten what happened with Bit the day before.

Instead, she made her way back out into the town again. Tempest didn't have a direction or destination, simply meandering through the cobbled streets as her pulse fell back to normal. Much of it went by in a blur - an indistinct haze of mundane daily life that Tempest had been removed from for so long that it was alien. She hadn't even really grown up in Equestria, so how could she really relate to a pair of ponies washing their laundry in a tub as they chatted from one yard to the other? And her shattered horn left little room to feel sorry for the unicorn who's cart full of coal had tipped over, leaving him to reload it by hoof.

Her hooves carried her out of town at some point as the busy homes transitioned to houses abandoned when the town's population dwindled, and those in turn transitioned to the carefully curated fields that kept them from starvation. Row after row of grain stood tall, still green and unready for harvest. The stillness of the stalks tickled at the back of Tempest's mind as she went by - then clicked as she realized the air within the barrier was eerily calm. Two days, and she hadn't felt even the most mild of breezes. That thought made her chuckle. A good storm would shock the sheltered unicorns of the town and the House - she mentally wrote herself a reminder to be around the first time that they felt the wind go through their manes.

Passing a farmer struggling to pull rutabagas out with his teeth, Tempest started to curve back towards town when she came near the base of the hill they'd entered on. Even a good minute's jog off, she could see the barrier wobbling slightly with the viscous texture of warm honey. The wind pushed here and there, testing the wall for weak points that would never exist. Tempest paused for a moment to watch the barrier, trying to spy the shape or face of a windigo in the hazy white blizzard beyond.

She saw nothing - though she felt the prickle along her hackles that somepony was looking back at her.

Looping around, her trot carried her around the outer edges of the town. Past a quiet marsh and two more farms - one thick with cherry trees and the other a low field of some sort of green leaf. Agriculture wasn't Tempest's wheelhouse, leaving her to guess that it might have been spinach. In theory she could have asked once she got back, but that was unlikely since she didn't actually care.

What did grab her thoughts was the two ponies she saw moving parallel to her at the edge of town - a dark blue stallion and a teal mare.

Shifting her angle, Tempest closed the distance and confirmed it: Scribble and Luminous Script. Even before she was close enough to see their faces, the fact that both were half-limping with weariness after the earlier jog was a dead giveaway.

Thirty more seconds and she drew up behind them. They were talking, oblivious despite the loud strike of Tempest's shoes on the cobbles. For just a moment she lit her horn, aiming the jagged and sparking tip at their exposed docks. But she felt a hiccup in her magic - a fluctuation as it sputtered and spat - and Tempest cut the power and thought better of the prank. Instead, she cleared her throat loudly.

They both still jumped in surprise.

"T--Tempest!" Scribble's face couldn't decide if it wanted to express fear or happiness, settling on an awkward mix of both. "What are you doing here?"

She couldn't help the smarmy smirk. "Walking," Tempest dryly observed. "In public. Like a normal pony. Why are you both here and looking guilty as Kludgetowners?"

The reference utterly missed both, but Script forged on anyway. "We were actually heading to the storehouse to pick up a few things. I wanted to get some cabbage for dinner - Bit should be off his barrier shift by then and I thought I'd make the cabbage and white bean soup he likes."

"And I'm going there for ink!" Scribble puffed out her meager chestfluff defensively. "I saw how much Starswirl went through yesterday making notes, so they're going to be out by tonight."

Tempest nodded slowly, lips in a thoughtful purse. "And the guilty part that you both avoided mentioning?"

"Oh hey!" Scribble perked up and pointed to a large, low building a good hundred yards ahead. "We're here!"

"I can and will detonate the entrance to that building so you can't get inside if you try that clumsy of a dodge again." Tempest considered lighting her horn again to drive the point home - but it wasn't necessary. The look of horror on both their faces clearly showed she'd made her point.

Stopping, Scribble hung her head in shame. "Sorry. I just, uh. I just don't--" She squirmed uncomfortably. "It feels different telling you about gossip than it does telling Script?"

With a weighty sigh, Script rubbed his forehead and made the confession. "Scribble went back to check on Starswirl and Reliquary. She caught them getting close, so she left again without them noticing. Then she made up a reason to go somewhere else, we ran into each other on the way here and you threatened to destroy the place we store the food and starve us all."

Tempest's heart hitched at the last point. Oh. "Well... okay, sorry about the last one. I was a little annoyed and I don't have the best coping methods."

An incredulous Script opened his mouth - only to be interrupted by a scandalized Scribble. "And it wasn't that they were close! They were close. Like their horns were touching!" Her hushed voice quivered at such a taboo action.

It took considerable effort for Tempest not to roll her eyes. "So you left them alone for a while. How long ago were they like that?"

Scribble blinked. "Um. Three quarters of an hour, maybe?"

A moment's thought - then Tempest nodded. "Yeah, that should be plenty of time. He's old. Let's get your ink and cabbage and get on with life. I'll help you carry it."

With a groan, Script cradled his face in his hooves. "I cannot believe you just implied that."

Scribble, meanwhile, just blushed.

The actual process of picking up ink and cabbage was remarkably simple - Tempest had expected far tighter rationing controls. But the storehouse was unlocked and unguarded, allowing entry to any who desired it. There was a brief disruption as Scribble dropped a vial of ink on the floor, but beyond that? The hardest part was finding things in the open warehouse and loading a small wagon.

As they left, however? Just as Tempest was about to needle the other two again about Prioress Heart's potential relationships, she spotted the mare in question.

Distressingly, she spotted her running full speed towards them.

Reliquary Heart was not a terribly fit mare. Even for the fairly lackadaisical denizens of the town and the House, she was older and carried an air of fragility around her. So to see her gangly limbs whirling as she careened past two houses, spotted the trio and tripped over her own hooves? That was unusual and concerning. She landed in a clatter - and both Scribble and Script forgot everything to rush to her side.

"Prioress!"
"Reliquary!"

Tempest trotted after them - in less of a rush but no less concerned.

It was strange, though. When the Prioress raised her head, she didn't look to her assistant or her successor - she looked right at Tempest with panicked, pleading eyes.

And that was the moment Tempest knew something had gone horribly wrong.

"Starswirl," panted the Prioress. "Starswirl's collapsed."

Author's Note

Aaaand there would be the other shoe.

C'mon, you had to know something was going to go wrong here.

9 - Carmelite

Starswirl lay just as the Prioress had said - on his side where he'd fallen in the middle of the library. She had propped his head up with a pair of thick books, but otherwise the ancient sorcerer hadn't been moved. He certainly wasn't going to be moving himself - he was solidly unconscious.

The heap of wizard occasionally twitched, spasms running through his limp limbs. His breathing, at least, was shallow but unlabored so he was in no danger there. But his coat was pale, thick with a lather as if he'd been running like Tempest had been earlier in the day.

Beside him, Script let out a sigh of relief. "Exhaustion," he pronounced. "Magical exhaustion. He'll be fine after he has some time to recover."

Unlike the locals, Tempest didn't take it as a good diagnosis. "That's impossible. He's Starswirl. The old goat may not be in the prime of his life anymore, but he has stronger mana channels than anypony alive who's not a Princess." Her eyes turned, locking on to Reliquary Heart. "You need to start explaining what happened." A following firm NOW was unspoken but implied strongly enough to be unmissable.

Scribble took a single defensive step to interpose herself between Tempest and the Prioress, but Reliquary moved forward first to prevent it. "We were researching," she began, a slight tremor of fear in her voice. "He thought we might be on the trail of something, but we hadn't found it yet. We were going to have to pull a few more volumes to track down a spell that was referenced in the order's early literature - but by that point we had already read through so many we were out of table space. So - Script?" She looked over to the scribe. "You'll be proud to know I remembered your spell."

The stallion's ears perked. "You actually remembered to use it?"

An uneasy but earnest laugh slipped free from Reliquary despite her nervousness. "For once, I actually did." She turned back to Tempest. "Script was tired of how none of us can seem to put the library back in the order he likes it, so he developed a shelving spell. Cast, and all the books float themselves back to the appropriate spots. He made us all learn it, but remembering to cast it is a different story."

She sighed. "I got around twenty books into the air with it and then it cut out early. One of them hit Starswirl in the head."

Tempest frowned sharply. "That must have been a pretty big book to knock him out like this."

The Prioress wildly waved off the semi-accusation. "No! He was fine! A little annoyed but fine. And I was really embarrassed since I must have cast the spell wrong. At least, I thought that until I tried to reshelve the books again and my levitation kept sputtering."

Script and Scribble exchanged a look of concern - it was Scribble who spoke up with a voice far more hesitant than normal. "Prioress, maybe you should lay down? You know that weak magic this long after having your turn with the barrier is a bad sign of ponies your age and--"

"Scribble," came scolding retort that made the assistant cringe. "I appreciate you're looking out for me but that's not what it was." Reliquary turned her head back to Tempest. "Starswirl thought it was strange, so he asked me to run through a few exercises for him. Foal's play - and I failed every one of them."

Four sets of eyes turned to the ancient wizard as he groaned, shifting as consciousness slowly returned. Both Script and Reliquary knelt beside him, ready to help Starswirl as he came back. As they did, Reliquary continued. "So Starswirl started running some exercises and tests himself. I didn't understand most of them, so I tried to reshelve the books by hoof. I wasn't paying attention until he dropped the ball he was testing with."

Another groan, and Starswirl's eyes fluttered. Gathering close, Script helped the sorcerer sit up as he came to. He wasn't able to find words yet as he slowly regained his bearings, so the Prioress continued even as she put a steadying hoof on his side. "Starswirl didn't say what it meant. He was too frantic. Whatever it was, it was important. So he grabbed some parchment and a quill to--"

"--To write to the Princesses," Starswirl finished, holding a hoof to his head. "How long was I out?"

"Half an hour or so," confirmed Reliquary Heart.

The old sage blinked several times as his eyes readjusted and came back into focus again. "And my message?"

That time, Reliquary hesitated slightly. "I don't know. The parchment you had disappeared after the flash."

"Teleported," corrected Starswirl. "It was a message to the Princesses. I..." He grimaced - not from physical pain, but his ego took a blow as he admitted weakness. "I couldn't get it to Canterlot. I had to drop it in Stirrup Hill with a command to have the mail carry it the rest of the way."

Tempest's concern for the sorcerer's wellbeing was quickly replaced by a far deeper concern - one that rose from the depths of her gut. "Couldn't get it to Canterlot? Is there a shield or some sort of interference?" The words balanced on a knife's edge - she knew full well that cutting off communications to the capitol was an obvious step one for an attack. (Unless you started by taking the capitol, a tiny voice reminded her.)

Her concerns were quelled when Starswirl shook his head. And then the world shattered when he explained. "My magic wasn't strong enough to reach that far anymore."

It was Script who voiced what they all were thinking after a moment's ominous pause. "But... you're Starswirl. How could your magic not be strong enough?"

"Anymore," came the growling correction. Starswirl looked to the scribe, then flicked over to one of the nearby books. "Reshelve that one - the brown one with the silver binding."

Unsure, Script hesitated for a moment before he complied. The book lifted in his golden magic, floating across the room to the shelves. Halfway there, the glow around it sputtered and the book fell to the floor with a dull thump. Vexed, Script re-lit his horn and lifted it again - only for the book to wobble and drop again moments later. A third attempt, and the magic aura wasn't even able to get it off the ground.

Panic raced into Luminous Script's eyes and tone. "I--I don't understand." He reached out with his magic, grabbing other items around the room - books, quills, lamps, chairs - all moved for only a few moments at best as his magic failed over and over. "What's going on? Why can't I pick anything up?!"

Starswirl's chill voice cut through the panic, but the words did nothing but prompt more fear. "Magic is vanishing." He paused just long enough for everypony's heart to stop, like he was some self-absorbed below-average illusionist. "It's being drained by something, I know not what. But whatever the force is, it pulls harder with each passing moment. I fear if I had waited and tried to teleport that letter now, I wouldn't have even been able to reach beyond the confines of this valley."

"The valley..." Prioress Heart's face pinched - then her ears spiked up and eyes popped wide. "The barrier!"

"Temporarily safe," stated a grim Starswirl. "It channels power directly from the world's own paths of power, so it is resistant. But by the end of today, all unicorn magic and spells will fail. Then artifacts will lose their power, and then the magic of creatures will be drained away. By the time the sun sets on the third day, all magic will be gone from Equestria entirely. Perhaps for good."

A snow-thick blanket of silence fell over the room, broken only by Tempest's hooves as she shifted from side to side. None of the locals spoke, trapped in the paralysis of apocalyptic change. Starswirl himself was quiet, lips pulled to a thin frown as he let the others process.

Tempest didn't wait - not long. She stomped one forehoof, iron shoe ringing off the stone floor to pull all the attention to her. "We need to act. Starswirl, how long will the barrier hold?"

A frustrating shrug was his response. "The magic to power it will hold for another day or two. But it's being channeled and ponies are mortal." To his side, Script winced hard at that word. "In an ideal situation, it will last as long as they do." Starswirl turned to the Prioress. "Which begs the question of just how bad the strain is on them."

Reliquary was silent for an agonizing moment more before she spoke. "It's been a long time since anypony tried to test that. In the early days they did, but not in generations. The six hours we use now are near the limits of what a pony's body can handle. A particularly fit pony such as Captain Bridle might be able to make eight, but most would pass out before then."

"And too long would result in damage, just like the sun-raising spell your barrier was based on." Starswirl stroked his beard in thought. "So we have only-- how long ago did the current rotation begin?"

Script opened his mouth, but the words died in his dry throat. Scribble picked up in his place, even as she leaned against him in a supportive nuzzle. "Bit went in about an hour and a half ago. Him, Stellar Flux, Astral Ink, Cookie Pusher, Rosemary and..." She trailed off, muzzle scrunched as she tried to remember the last name.

"Midnight Star." Script's voice was hollow, even as he did his best to be helpful. "Navy blue with a white blaze and socks. Her birthday's two days after mine. The three of us - Bit and her and I - all share the same birth month. And...and..." His knees wobbled under him. "And they're going to hold it for as long as they can, aren't they? Even if it kills them. And then the barrier will be gone and the windigoes are going to get in a--and we'll all freeze and--"

His rapidly accelerating voice was batted away from panic as Tempest gave Script a shove. "No.." She was the focus in an instant, all attention on her. "Now's the time to act, not cower. We've got about four hours to save every life in this valley before we lose the shield. And the faster we do that, the more likely it is the ponies powering the barrier won't get hurt."

There was a moment of hope in the group's eyes before Prioress Heart dashed it. "But the windigoes--"

"Twilight Sparkle," came Tempest's immediate counter.

Three sets of eyes blinked; Starswirl's widened. "Yes. Twilight."

She nodded to him. "This isn't a here problem, it's an Equestria problem. Even if your letter doesn't get through, the Princesses aren't going to miss what's happening and they'll use every resource they have to solve things. And that means Twilight Sparkle." She smirked a tiny bit. "Would you bet against her?"

Starswirl chuckled quietly. "Never."

An irate Luminous Script barged between the two outsiders. "Excuse me, but this is our home that's about to be destroyed. Are you going to let us in on the secret?"

"Equestria's greatest weapon - Princess Twilight Sparkle." Tempest couldn't hold back a little smile when she said the name. "If I told you even half the things she's done, you'd never believe another word I said. But whatever's causing this, she'll beat it."

Circling past Script and coming up beside Tempest, Starswirl nodded. "Princess Twilight is the one who freed Princess Luna from Nightmare Moon. As well as saving myself and the other Pillars from Limbo."

"She also beat me," Tempest added and moved off the subject just as quickly before any questions could get asked. "But that's not the point. She'll fix this. We just need to keep everypony safe for a day or two while she does it."

Hesitantly, Scribble bit her lip and looked at the pair. "You're sure?"

Her lack of certainty was countered by a rough snort from Tempest. "The alternative is that we sit in the town square and let the windigoes turn us all to ice."

"She's right." Reliquary stepped forward, placing herself between the two outsiders and the two locals. "This is the greatest challenge the House has ever faced, and everything our ancestors fought and struggled for is on the line." Back straight and head high, the Prioress gave her command. "It is up to us to ensure that the House of the Rising Sun does not fall. What this Princess Twilight does is irrelevant - our duty is to protect our ponies and we will not fail in it."

Once more wearing a smirk, Tempest shot a look at Script. "You were right. Known across Equestria by thirty."

Reliquary Heart shot a deathly irritated look at Luminous Script, which lasted for barely ten seconds before the room's tension broke into laughter. It was less humor and more relief - a moment where the emotional rubber band snapped back to normal, bouncing briefly into amusement.

It passed quickly. The laughter petered out to awkwardness, and Tempest took control of the conversation again. "The way I see it, the most important thing is that we need to gather everypony into the priory. It's the only building big enough and it's the one most likely to withstand an attack."

"The guard can do most of that," Script pointed out. "Everypony knows to listen to the bells for warnings and take shelter when it rings. And even without Bit to lead them the town guard can gather ponies out of their homes to bring them here."

With a little bounce, Scribble grabbed hold of the idea. "Oh! And we can use the records to create a checklist of every pony in town and make sure they're all safe!"

"Good, good." Tempest grabbed hold of that, using it to suppress the urge to start shouting orders. It wasn't her army to run - they had to work together. "So we'll have everypony inside and we can be sure they're all here. But we also need to make sure that we can survive for a few days until rescue comes. That means food, water, warm clothing and fuel for heat."

Script firmly nodded. "The water's easy. There's an underground aquifer that's too deep to freeze. It's what supplies the town and there's a well connecting to it in the kitchens. Food shouldn't be too hard either. If you're saying we only need to hold out for a few days before this Princess Twilight rescues us, there's a lot more than that just in our homes - let alone what's in the storehouse. The same goes for coal - we just need to bring it here."

"Warm clothes are easy, too." Scribble paused. "Maybe not warm enough to hold off a windigo, but who doesn't have a coat and some blankets?"

Tempest wiggled her hips, drawing attention to her dark frock. "I wouldn't mind extra, and more is better." She turned to Starswirl, mouth opening to speak - and stopping as she found the sage in close conversation with the prioress. Their exchanged whispers - faces practically pressed together - were too hushed to be understood but the dire tone was clear enough. Tempest cleared her throat loudly and the pair practically leapt apart.

Starswirl adjusted his hat with a jingle and an embarrassed blush. "Ah, yes, Miss Heart - the, uh, the Prioress--"

She cut him off. "What Starswirl is trying to say is that we also need construction materials." Reliquary pursed her lips. "To secure the building."

That thought poured water on Tempest's thoughts, dousing the ember of hope. "Secure enough to keep out the wind itself? That's a tall order. But you're right, we don't have a choice."

A deep breath - and Tempest nodded, mostly to herself. "We focus on the ponies first. Have the guard go from house to house, bringing everypony in. When they do, have each of them haul as much food, clothing and fuel as they can. Those first, then the materials for a blockade. Sealing ourselves in won't help if we starve or freeze."

Around her, the other four nodded in agreement.

"We have a plan. Now we must hope that Princess Twilight comes through." Starswirl's voice stretched for hope, barely clearing desperation. "She has not failed Equestria yet."

Author's Note

Didn't you ever wonder why at the end of S8, Starswirl just sent a letter? Why the greatest archmage in history decided to not show up and do anything about all the world's magic being drained away? And only decided to let anyone know about it via a single sheet of paper sent by standard post?

Yeah. Me too.

When I needed a few unicorn names for this segment, I couldn't help but use the opportunity for references. The five listed with Bit in the casting are all unicorn OCs from various stories that I've enjoyed. In order, we have special appearances by:
Stellar Flux of Sunset Shimmer Is Not An Alicorn;
Astral Ink from the works of Scribe of the Nightwings;
Cookie Pusher of the Twin Canterlots series;
Rosemary of The Primrose War (strong M rating warning there folks!);
and Midnight Star of Growing Up Glimmer.
All used with the endorsement for people to go read their stories!

10 - Fatebenefratelli

The only sound louder than the bell was the cacaphonic slam of hooves on stone. Dozen of hoofbeats clattering on the cobbles as the denizens of the town rushed for safety.

The bells and the guards did their job - everypony in the valley had been alerted. Now it was a flurry of activity as panicked ponies tried to pull carts full of food, fuel and blankets to the priory. Most struggled with even marginal loads, too used to a lifetime of using their now-inert horns. But still they struggled and hauled, goaded forward by desperation and the knowledge that the protective barrier could fall any minute.

Through it all, Tempest was galloping back and forth. Here, she was using her greater strength to lift a cart out of a drainage ditch along the roadside. There, she was directing the harried guards up a street to double check for stragglers or useful material. Then back again, herding the skittish citizenry like a sheepdog to keep them on track and orderly.

"Go!" She scowled, urging the trailing cart onwards. "Get inside and make room for the next!" Tempest's tail smacked the flank of the young mare at the end of the procession before trotting off to the side. There, next to the door, she found Scribble.

The scribe was busy, clumsily writing with a quill in her mouth and ink stains painting most of her face black. But at Tempest's approach she looked up from the sloppy parchment on the repurposed lectern.

"Count?" came the harried question.

Scribble spit out the quill. "That's almost everypony. Aside from the guards that are still out sweeping for supplies and a few volunteers to haul them, there's only one family unaccounted for. But the live pretty far out, so they could just be slow."

Tempest snorted. "Slow is still unacceptable. I'll see what's keeping them - you get word around to the guards that everypony's to take their current loads and come in. We're almost out of time and there's no reason for anypony to freeze today."

A quick glance at Scribble's register gave Tempest a name - then she grabbed a guard who knew how to navigate the town to take her to the last lagging family.

Finding the location wasn't hard - even without a guide, it was the only house that had a guard presence outside of it. Towards the outer edges of town, the flat-roofed single story structure didn't vary much from its neighbors. The only thing that stood out was that it stood away - rather than in the same rough row as the others nearby, it was set back from the cobblestone street. Well-trampled grass marked out a path from the front door to the nearby fields where the still-green grain patiently waited for a harvest that wasn't coming.

On either side of the door stood a guard, dressed in the same sparse armor Bit had been for that first meeting. Both occasionally stole glances through the open doorway - each time being met by the sound of something smashing and a few shards of flying pottery.

Tempest trotted up beside the nearest. "What's taking so long?"

The guard saluted, paused, half dropped the salute and then saluted again. "M..m'am?" He hesitated again, visibly trying to figure out how to address Tempest.

She rolled her eyes. "Focus."

"Right! Er, yes. They won't leave." He paused. "Well he won't leave and I think the colt's just doing what his father says."

Annoyance bubbled up in Tempest's gut. "So you're letting him hold you off with thrown plates while the windigoes close in."

Haplessly, the guard cringed. "Normally we would grab him with our magic but--"

"Oh noooo," Tempest sarcastically pantomimed. "Why would we ever need to learn basic hoof-to-hoof. Any unicorn worth their magic can handle the basics." Grumbling, she popped her neck. "Thanks, Bit. Real good."

All three guards watched shamefully as Tempest walked into the house with measured steps and growling annoyance. Another plate hurled, missing her entirely and smashing into the wall.

The interior of the house was sparse - not spartan, as that would imply purposeful frugality rather than the house's more obvious lack of bothering. Half the building was a single large room with the bare minimums: central fire pit, table, four chairs, a few storage chests, all cast in stone. It lacked any of the creature comforts Tempest associated with pony living, save for an empty vase gathering dust in the corner of the room by the storage. Three doors along the back wall separated out some other rooms, but that was the extent of it all.

Backed away to the center of those far doors was a stallion - pale grey-white coat, dull green mane, unshorn fetlocks, chipped hooves - standing guard over a cowering colt with similar (but brighter) coloration. The older had a nearly depleted stack of stoneware plates beside him and was grabbing another in his mouth even as the shards of the last one he threw were still settling to the ground.

If the marks around the door were any indication, he was a terrible shot.

"I've been told a lot that I need to work on my conflict avoidance." Tempest leisurely stalked forward, approaching the coals of the central fire. "So while we're in a rush, I'm going to actually ask who you are and why you're so determined to freeze."

The stallion snarled, teeth gnashing. "You're not going to take me from my home!"

"Which answers neither of the questions I asked," Tempest observed. A step to the side and she passed by the fire pit at the center of the room. "If you don't answer at least one of them by the time I reach you, I'm going to buck you in the head and drag you to safety."

He considered it. He very visibly considered it, giving the amazonian mare an appraising look-over.

Then he decided to take the smarter path. "Rye," he admitted with a sour grunt.

She stopped walking and grunted right back. "Is that your name or why you're being a stubborn idiot?"

"My name," he growled, obviously thinking about throwing another plate. "I know you're supposedly some big hero from beyond the barrier - everypony in town's been talking about you. But that doesn't give you the right to order me around!"

Tempest facehoofed. "Are you really doing this? All of it just because you're stubborn?"

Rye bared his teeth again, ears flat and eyes afire. "Yes! This isn't just my home - this is my father's home and my father's fathers, and my father's father's father's! We've worked this land for longer than you could count!" He slammed a hoof to the floor angrily, kicking up a tiny cloud of dust. "If the windigoes are really coming, we're all doomed anyway. I'd rather freeze on this land now than squeeze out one extra day cowering in a basement."

Images of an orange mare and her dedication to her family's land flicked through Tempest's mind, giving momentary respect for Rye's words. Then she tossed them away again as the silent colt by Rye's back legs shifted fearfully for greater cover behind his father - Applejack wouldn't sacrifice her family for her land. No. Tempest was sure of that. She locked eyes with the farmer before her. "What about your son?"

The stallion was no monster - his expression wavered briefly before he steeled himself again. "He deserves his pride and his place on this land as much as I do. And no foal should have to lose both their parents."

Even Tempest's hard heart flinched a little at that. But she didn't back down. "If you're determined to die, fine. But you don't get to decide for him. He's going with us." She took another step forward.

Murder flashed through Rye's eyes. "You don't get to decide what's best for my family, outsider. Do you really think I'm just going to let you take him from me?"

Snark welled up out of Tempest like oil. "Well, we established at the start of this conversation that you're suicidal and an idiot, so no. But I can and will beat you until you can't stop me." Another step - now she was just narrowly out of reach of the farmer. Her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped to a regretful half-whisper. "Don't make me do that in front of him."

Pride pushed back against her threat - for a moment. Just a moment. But Rye pursed his lips and gave a reluctant nod as he surrendered. "...Alright." Turning, he knelt and took hold of his son. "Kimmelweck." He ran a hoof through the colt's tousled green mane - now that she had a clearer look, the foal couldn't have been more than six. "I need you to go with this mare, alright? Go with her and listen to her. Your Da needs to do something important, and I'll be gone for a while. Behave yourself. Now go." He stepped aside, giving his son a small push.

The colt stumbled a little, head looking rapidly back and forth between his grim-faced father and an equally dour Tempest. He went to her as ordered, each step hesitant. The two adult ponies were only perhaps six paces apart - and when the colt crossed that, he hid behind Tempest's legs just as he had his father's.

A few seconds ticked by. Tempest leveled her eyes at the father. He turned towards one of the doors behind, scooping a threadbare but intricately stitched blanket up.

She cleared her throat. He paused.

"No foal should have to lose both their parents," she repeated, tone guarded and neutral.

Rye quietly scoffed without looking to her. "Said that, didn't I."

She let it hang for half an eternity more. "We should get going." No push - just an offer. "Time's short."

He almost didn't take it. Just as Tempest started to turn, so did Rye. Clumsy with his hooves, he crossed those six paces and wrapped the blanket around his still confused son. "I'll carry the colt," he simply stated.

Then they were gone.

The distant barrier was wavering. Even as invisible and formless as it was, the growing weakness was unmistakable in the way that the snow beyond it moved. A push here, a shove there - each time causing the thick magic to bow and shift as the windigoes outside battered it with wind. They could sense something had changed. They could sense vulnerability for the first time in forever, and the fear inside drove their hunger to salivating heights.

Rye and his colt hadn't spoken the entire way, and now they obeyed without a word and galloped past the abandoned carts and into the monastery. Scribble held the door as they came in before turning to make the last check mark on her list.

Tempest nearly followed herself - but pulled up short. All of the townsfolk and the monks were inside, safe for the moment. But the guards - to a pony - were not. Gathered around the entryway in much the same positions as Tempest saw when she first arrived.

The nearest saluted her, expression drawn tight.

She resisted the urge to smack him. At least physically. "What are you idiots doing out here?!"

One of the guard - Bit had never gotten around to introducing his subordinates by name - stepped forward and clicked his hooves together. "Our duty."

"Get inside." The statement was reflexive more than anything - though Tempest certainly felt it. "None of you have magic to fight the intangible windigoes, and everypony else is already safe. Ten out of ten for bravery, zero out of ten for having any sense."

There was no immediate response beyond awkward milling as the guards looked from one to another uncertainly.

Tempest sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead. "Bit gave all of you his speech about wanting to see battle." It wasn't a question, but most of the guards nodded to confirm anyway. "Look, I've seen battle. And the smart thing is to live and fight another day. There's nothing to gain by fighting right now."

"We just want to help," said the nearest guard sheepishly.

"And that's why I'm trying to be patient." Tempest shook her head. "We could be out of time any second now. I'm going inside and having them seal up the door behind me. If you have half a salt lick's worth of sense, you'll do the same thing." She paused, eyes flicking over the assembled guards. "Now MOVE!"

They moved.

A slightly more sedate pace was all that Tempest needed - and she was the last one in. Behind her, the townsfolk closed the door, barricaded it and started to push heavy stones into place to seal it entirely. A tiny piece of her had a dark chuckle watching the unicorns shoving rocks around, deprived of their magic.

The rest of Tempest focused instead on Scribble. "That's every pony in the valley. We should let them know it's safe to extract Bit and his team."

A sour frown played across Scribble's ink-stained lips. "Safe is a very relative term for any of this."

Her response was a grunt. "Let's go." Tempest didn't give Scribble the chance to quip back.

Leaving the townsfolk to seal the door, the pair ascended. The belltower that rose above the monastery held the selfsame bells, of course. But the level below that was the most important chamber in the valley: the barrier room. Though only a few pony-lengths across, it had held all the hopes of the town and the House for centuries.

In the center of the uncluttered chamber rose a tall dais that supported the spell's focus - a thin piece of crystal the length of a pony's leg. Any other details about it were masked amidst the hellish glow that couldn't decide on a color. The focus of a continuous cast spell for multiple centuries, the crystal seared the eye as it chaotically careened through the colors of every magic ever used to power it. In turn, this cast the carefully hewn stones of the chamber into a kaleidoscope of shades that changed faster than the conscious mind could assign names to.

All told, there were nine unicorns in the room before Tempest and Scribble entered. The problem was that five of them were unconscious. Starswirl and Reliquary were tending to the fallen - all still breathing - while Script paced worriedly.

He was pacing because there was only one unicorn left focusing the barrier spell.

Bit was the last of his group still standing, coat lathered pearly white from strain as he tried to continue to channel the power of six. Searing energy welled up around his hooves, rippling over his body before being projected from his horn to the crystal in a thick beam. The occasional spark would fly off of him, sputtering out as it hit the freshly scorched floor. Most worrying of all, the guard captain was vibrating - shaking in a way that seemed like at any moment body and soul rip apart from one another. And in time with the vibrations, the air was full of a keening whine that echoed in off the stone and seemed to come from every direction.

Scribble froze; Tempest did not. "Everypony is in!" Her voice boomed in the tight space, shaking those present (and awake) out of their little worlds of worry. "Get him out of there!"

Staggering slightly as he turned and tried not to trip over one of the fallen, Starswirl shouted back. "We can't or we already would have! The fool's taken too much on himself - he's trapped in the flow!" A stray spark got too close, making Starswirl flinch. "It was the only way he could keep it going after the others fell - he's using himself as a short-circuit to jam the system open!"

Several expletives came to Tempest's mind, but she spoke none of them. "Get the others clear!" Scribble, Reliquary and Starswirl surged to action, grabbing the fallen unicorns and dragging them towards the stairwell. Script didn't - he stayed locked near Bit, pacing up a storm just barely out of reach with his gaze flicking between the eye-searing crystal and the glowing unicorn.

Grabbing the scribe by his jaw, Tempest wrenched him around to face her. "Take one of the ones that's down and go!"

Rather than obey, Script shoved Tempest back with a surprising grunt of effort. "I'm not leaving him!"

Tempest stumbled. Anger rose for a moment, her narrow glare locked onto Script. But she suppressed it; pushed it down again. "Then it's your responsibility to haul him out."

The angry determination left Script's eyes almost instantly. "But we have to get him out first." He swallowed hard, looking at the glowing unicorn. "How do we even do that? If I had magic, I could disrupt the flow so he could break the connection, but without it--"

With a heavy sigh, Tempest shook her head. "You're all so reliant on your horns, you forget to think on your hooves." A spark shot off - and she turned whipsaw-quick. A twist of her body brought both rear hooves around, planting them in Bit's right side. A sudden jolt - and the connection severed with a sizzling thunder-crack of noise.

That sound, in turn, gave way to the thump of Bit hitting the wall (again) and Script letting out a wailing cry of panic.

But Tempest didn't hear it. Her attention was locked on the crystal - the emaciated length of rock that had tied together the valley's fate for centuries. The magical power being pushed into it stopped, and a moment later the last of it flowed out as well. Freed from its place in the spell, the crystal fell dull and silent. For a moment it stood there as if trying to grasp what had changed. Then, without a hint of fanfare, it fell apart. Not a proper crystal's shattering, but the crumbling of loose sand.

Fate, of course, decided that moment was the one Starswirl came back in. Right on time to see Script holding Bit's limp body next to the wall, tears blinding his eyes; to see Tempest staring at the remains of the spell focus; and most critically to hear the barrier spell itself sputter wetly as it ceased.

He crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, ancient hooves grabbing Tempest. "What did you DO?"

"What needed to be done." Tempest spat out the sour words, ears flat and lips drawn tight.

Above them came the rising howl of the storm followed by an F-sharp. Then another. And another as the bells rattled under the pounding force of a wind they had never felt before.

Starswirl's grey face paled. "...we have to go." He took a step towards one of the remaining fallen unicorns - and stumbled as the tower itself swayed.

That was cue enough for both Tempest and Script. Grabbing their unconscious loads, all three hauled to the stairwell by hoof and by jaw. Around them the tower shifted under the pounding pressure of the storm and the bells above battered their ears. The bell that struck a B note gave one last toll that abruptly grew faint - striking a second time as the bell, dislodged, fell and bounced off the monastery's roof.

Script was the last one down the stairs - half stumbling, half rolling as he pulled Bit clear. As soon as he was through, four other unicorns lept into action and started stacking stones to blockade the door. They managed to seal it halfway before there was a loud groan above - and the entire monastery shook as the belltower listed to the side and fell.

But the door was closed enough. The last entrance was sealed. They all lay there, slowly letting the panic of their close call recede as the storm overtook the valley.

11 - Crosier

They lost the solarium next.

Even as the clatter of bells and stones from the tower falling faded, the sound of shattering glass rose to meet everypony's ears. They'd accepted early on there was no saving the solarium - in a building made of ancient stone and time-tested mortar, it was a delicate projection of glass. That door had been sealed before any of the others, knowing there was no way to secure the room.

Prioress Heart still cried bitterly at the loss of her favorite sanctuary. She allowed herself that ironically cold comfort.

Her tears added to the grim pallor of the priory as a whole, and if they hadn't been tempting food for the windigoes before they certainly were now. Every soul in the building was the same: clustered around a smoky coal-fire for warmth, wearing the shock and strain of the last few hours as well as the loss of everything they had ever known to the unending storm. It didn't help that everypony was crammed in tightly as well - the monastery was built for more ponies than it had held in generations, but the town far surpassed that. Every room was full, spilling the restless and the sleeping out into the halls and balconies. Even now with the sun set and enough hours passed to let the adrenaline fall away, the herd was still balanced on the edge of panic and sorrow for what had been abandoned.

Luminous Script was with Scribble, and both in turn were with Bit and his team of unicorns. They had all awoken, each hurting and worn but alive. What damage had been done to their magic was unclear as nopony had theirs - but the hesitant diagnosis was exhaustion and burnout at worst. Their grief was still fresh, however, lacking the hours of buildup the rest of the town had gotten to handle the crisis. But all of the final shift would recover from their ordeal, even if they would be fragile and drained for a few days.

Starswirl was with Reliquary Heart, usually orbiting near her side as support while she wound through the monastery. Now was when her personal touch was needed most - coming to each tight knot of ponies to reassure, to guide and to grieve. Even though she was as worn thin as they - and the still-drying tear tracks on her greying cheeks made no secret of that - the Prioress brought what hope she could. It was scant, however. Even her best attempts did little to reassure her ponies that they would soon be saved by a Princess they had never heard of coming from a place they didn't know existed to defeat an enemy that couldn't be fought.

Tempest wasn't with any of them. She didn't belong with any of them. Picking her way through the refugee-cramped halls, her mind drifted to Kludgetown's alleyways. It was colder and darker here, but the overloaded monastery had the same smoke-heavy pallor of despair that the hodge-podge city in the desert possessed. Her path didn't go anywhere in particular, nor did it seem to make much difference to the scenery.

She found herself eventually in one of the radiating chapels off the main apse - a relatively small sanctuary built for private contemplation. Tempest placed herself away from the handful of ponies gathered around a fire near the central statue of Celestia, instead pushing her back up against the far wall and just under the towering but hastily bricked-up window. Even through a good two or three hooves worth of stone at her back, she could feel the rising chill outside and the vibrations of the wind battering as it sought to find a way in.

The ponies at the fire were silent save for the crackle of the coals - most were unknown, though she recognized Rye and his son among them. The stallion didn't notice her but the foal gave a brief glance before focusing back on the warming fire.

In time, another pony arrived: Prioress Heart. She entered alone for the moment, bare hooves echoing off the stone amidst the white noise of the muffled wind. Her words to the ponies at the fire were quiet, her voice gentle and low as she did what little she could to ease their spirits and keep them calm. Just what she said to do that was lost to Tempest, but it seemed to settle them somewhat. A few - the colt included - were reassured enough to finally curl up on the floor and find dreamless sleep.

Rather than leave for the larger part of the monastery's ground floor, she slowly walked over to Tempest's corner. And instead of looking at her, Reliquary cast her gaze upwards to the bricked-up window. A few moments passed before she spoke. "This was a stained glass window," came her feather-soft observation. "The original, I'm told, was that each of these four sanctuaries had an image of the sun in its different phases across the sky - this one was as it set. From what was said before about this new Princess, it seems appropriate that you take shelter under the image of twilight."

Part of the statement caught Tempest's ear more than the rest. And she had to ask or the curiosity would drive her crazy all night. "The original?"

"It broke," admitted Reliquary quite frankly. "I'm not even sure when it happened, other than generations and generations ago. It was after the windigoes came, at least. The craftsponies of the time remembered that the windows in the Castle of the Two Sisters were created to showcase important heroes and events in history." She motioned with a hoof to the bricks above. "This one is Luminous Script's favorite as it memorializes his ancestor who created the barrier spell." She paused again. "Memorialized," came her sad correction. "I expect the winds have broken it by now."

Slowly, Tempest nodded. She looked upwards, trying to remember if she had bothered to even glance at the window before it had been walled off - the lack of any memory told her she hadn't. But another memory did tickle at her. "...The Princesses still have windows that show those things. In their new castle, I mean."

Reliquary absently hummed an affirmation. "Yes. Starswirl said as much. I imagine he's in one or two of them."

"So am I." The admission sprang to Tempest's lips reflexively. And with slightly more shame, she clarified herself. "Not as one of the heroes, though."

The words sat briefly - before tiny nod from the Prioress. "Starswirl also said as much. Though he told a more interesting tale about your place in it. I believe it was something about a valiant sacrifice to save a Princess' life?"

Tempest snorted angrily. "After I turned three of them to stone and chased the last halfway across the continent."

Folding her spindly legs up, Reliquary Heart sat down next to Tempest. "Do you remember what we told you about our origins? How in the first days against the windigoes, the Solars and the Lunars put aside their differences and stood together? Mere weeks earlier they had been fighting one another with a ferocity not seen in Equestria since before the unification of the tribes, and yet when a threat arose they stood flank to flank against it."

A low grumble crept from Tempest's throat. "It's simple to say that after a few centuries turning it into myth. I doubt it was that easy at the time."

"Perhaps not," came the admission. But it didn't stop Reliquary. "Does it matter more if it was easy or if they did it at all?"

Expression tightly guarded, Tempest sighed. "I know what you're trying to do and while I appreciate the intent, I'm going to ask you to stop it. I'm not some skittish townspony. You don't need to put the show on for me - I heard enough earlier today to be a lot more interested in the adventure-dreaming Reliquary who's been making moon-eyes at Starswirl than the flat smile of the Prioress."

Reliquary's response wasn't instant. It took a tense moment of her looking distantly at an empty point in space before a shiver rolled down her spine and her eyes drifted closed. "I'm terrified," she admitted in a hoarse whisper.

"Duh." It took effort for Tempest to only scoff a little. "Your entire existence just came crashing down and everypony you've ever known is being threatened with destruction by literal monsters out of myth. I'm surprised you haven't gone catatonic."

A wry smile touched Reliquary's lips. "Somepony has to be the rock."

"And let me guess. Starswirl's been the one supporting you."

The response was a hesitation and a slight shrug. "He's... trying," Reliquary hedged. "He keeps getting distracted by the mysteries of the universe - just like the legends talk about, he's a brilliant pony with an endlessly inquisitive mind."

Tempest snorted. "And the social skills of a brick." She paused for half a beat. "Not that I'm much better, but he's worse at recognizing it."

Reliquary laughed - a quiet, almost accidental chortle. "If we weren't all about to die, I would say it was rather cute how he manages to be both brilliant and clueless."

"Ugh!" Tempest rolled her eyes hard enough to thump her head against the chill stone wall. "Between you and Princess Twilight! I have no idea what it is about that stallion that makes mares go googly-eyed."

Her response was unhelpful giggles. Those trailed away in short order, however, and Reliquary posed a quiet question. "Are you scared too?"

An uncomfortable shift. "I..." Tempest grimaced, knowing the truth was the wrong answer. "I'm not."

"Because you're so certain that this Princess will save us?" Hope crept into the Prioress' voice.

And was crushed when Tempest shook her head. "No. I am confident that Princess Twilight will. But why is--" She cut herself off with a grumble. "I could say a lot of reasons like that I'm a soldier, or that I've already stared down death enough to be immune. But it's really because of confidence. We know what's coming and what we need to do. I know we have a chance, and that's enough for me. Two days," she lectured. "In two days the magic is all gone and that changes everything. We just have to survive for those two days. Then we're either saved or doomed but until then all we can do is survive."

Hesitation. Reliquary bit her lip. "That seems awfully reductive."

"It's how I stay in control," Tempest admitted with a shrug. "Working for the Storm King taught me that. You have to focus on where you're going and what you can affect. If you worry about the things you can't control, you'll go mad. If you keep your eyes locked on your goal, you can't get lost."

Again, the Prioress hesitated. And her response was flinchingly hesitant. "From what Starswirl said, you got lost despite that."

The unexpected counter hit Tempest square, driving her to silence.

"That's not who you are now!" Reliquary was quick to add that when she saw Tempest's face fall. "You're not that pony anymore."

The bricked-over window overhead became the focus again as Tempest looked upwards to it. "You know, I've told myself exactly that a lot of times and I've never been able to believe it. I thought that at least I'd stopped being so obsessed with getting my horn back, but if that was true I wouldn't be in this position."

Leaning forward, Reliquary touched her grey-gold neck to Tempest's in a comforting nuzzle. "And we would all be lost. If Starswirl hadn't been here, how much warning do you think we would have had before the winds swept down? An hour? Ten minutes? None at all?"

Tempest's eyes clamped closed and she shivered.

"And from what I've been told, this wasn't your idea. He suggested it, not you." The Prioress sighed. "You're just so eager to blame yourself."

"I'd rather it was my fault," Tempest confessed. "At least then I can do something about it. I'd rather take responsibility than be a victim." The orchid mare allowed herself a slight comfort, leaning back into Reliquary. "...guess you're still putting on the show for me anyway."

And Reliquary laughed a little. "No. Just saying what you deserved to hear."

The inevitable awkward response was preempted by a third voice - one deeply tired but still managing a bouncing smirk. "Well here you are!"

Both mares looked up to see the dull red form of the guard captain hobbling towards them.

"Bit!" Reliquary flailingly rose to her hooves. "You shouldn't be walking on your own right now, you know that! Even normally you--"

"I'm fine," he insisted despite visibly not being so. Ragged didn't even begin to cover his bedraggled form - his unfocused eyes stayed open only by the weight of the bags under them and his sagging back was similarly supported only just barely by his wobbling legs. "Maybe I won't be lifting much for a few days but I'm still breathing. This isn't a time where we can afford for me to take a nap anyway."

Tempest rose up - mostly so she could move to Bit's side and guide him to them. "You did good." She tried to sound supportive, but there wasn't much force to her words. "You held it long enough for us to get everypony inside and finish the barricades."

He nodded slightly. "I know," Bit confirmed. "Script told me as much." He paused briefly. "Speaking of, I'd avoid him for a while if I were you. He's still pretty iced about what you did, Commander."

Halfway through sitting back down, Tempest froze warily. "And you?"

Bit smugly turned his one side to her, then the other. Both bore a set of hoofmarks - though one was a yellowing bruise while the other was still fresh and angry red. "I'm just glad you decided to buck me on the other side instead of in the same place," he chuckled darkly. But that chuckle gave way to a far more serious tone. "Really, though. I don't like that you took a big chance with my life but I'm also glad you did because it means I survived. If you had waited, maybe Starswirl or Script would have figured out how to break the connection safely - but there's no guarantee it wouldn't have been too late by then."

Things between them were dead quiet for almost a minute.

Then Reliquary sighed. "She's asking if you're angry with her, Bit."

"And I just told her," he insisted.

"A yes or a no, Bit."

The guard didn't instantly reply, taking a moment to chew the words over in his head. "I'm not sure I can say yes or no. I'm not happy about it, but I'm grateful anyway. Let's say... yes I'm angry but I'll get over it?"

This time, it was Tempest's turn to chuckle darkly. "That seems to be a running theme in my life."

Rather than let the conversation travel down that path once more, Reliquary cut in. "It sounded as though you were looking for us specifically, Bit."

Laying beside her, Bit flopped out with a groan of relaxation. "Sort of. Script has been fussing over me since before I woke up and I needed a break from his nursemaiding. I thought seeking both of you out individually would grant me that breathing space and give him a chance to calm down." He yawned. "Of course, now that I'm here and laying down, I'm not too eager to get back up yet."

Reliquary tilted her head slightly - then frowned as she realized there was no magic to reach out with. Instead she snaked out a foreleg, grabbing Bit and pulling herself to the heavier pony. "Here. Lean up against me. You know you're overexerting yourself - and that's the surest way to get Script to start babying you again, so you had better rest."

"For a few minutes," he groggily allowed. "Ten or so wouldn't hurt."

He didn't wake until morning, and it wasn't long after his eyes closed that both Reliquary and Tempest joined him.

12 - Barnabite

Morning came and started ugly.

At least, Tempest assumed it was morning. Any tiny amount of sun that could peek through the brickwork was muted to nearly nothing by the raging blizzard that had overwhelmed the valley. Only the lights of embers gave anything to see by and kept the halls in a perpetual gloom.

Scribble showing up helped push that back a bit - she was a pony who could brighten a dungeon with just her personality and a smile. That she had a lantern in her mouth helped. It made up for that smile being absent.

She looked briefly at the impromptu pile the three had left themselves in - Bit leaning into Reliquary's side, while the older mare's head was resting across Tempest's back. Reluctantly, the teal mare cleared her throat. "Prioress?"

The chain reaction started with Tempest: that subtle ahem jolted her out of a light sleep and she was halfway to her hooves before her eyes even opened. That quick reaction snapped Reliquary's head up, her neck tensing suddenly to keep her chin from hitting the floor. And her movement in turn roused Bit to a blinking half-wakefulness, though he didn't move beyond his fluttering eyelids.

Normally Scribble would have snickered at the dominos falling. That she kept her face dour made clear that this wasn't a call to breakfast.

"We have a problem."

Her tone did even less to reassure them.

That Scribble brought them to the kitchens boded ill as well. At least it was warm - the fire here burned double-size and then some as it cooked up a thick porridge for the morning, the already harried cooks trying to feed fifty times the number of ponies they normally did. Off to the side in the tightly packed and furiously busy room was the priory's well - set apart to give plenty of space and allow hall access even when the kitchen itself was a maelstrom of activity.

The quartet approached, joining Script and Starswirl - both already there and looking down the well's dark hole.

Seeing them arrive, Script's face moved quickly through his emotions: relief at Bit's presence and the almost immediately into anger when he spotted Tempest.

But he had no chance to speak before Starswirl jabbed him in the side. "Priorities." The sorcerer's dire tone brooked no argument. The single admonishment was enough, silencing Script. It did nothing to address his glowering glare, however.

For her part, Tempest didn't meet his anger head-on for once - she understood why the scribe was unhappy with her, even if she knew she'd been right. But confronting him over it wasn't going to help, and Starswirl was right. This wasn't the time right now.

The Prioress took the lead - Reliquary stepped forward and gave a demure smile to Starswirl before she started. "Scribble said there was a problem." Not a question - more simply a prompt to begin.

And Starswirl did. Rather than speak, he demonstrated by giving the well's bucket a push. It obeyed both him and gravity, dropping down the shaft and out of sight. A second and a half later, they expected a splash.

Instead there was a clunk.

None of them breathed as Starswirl hauled the bucket back up. Just as they feared, it was empty.

"That's... that's impossible. This aquifer has supported us for more than a thousand years." Reliquary wobbled as the world swam. "Why would it dry up now?"

"It's not dry." Script shivered a little as he spoke. "It's frozen."

"Frozen?!" The Prioress checked her voice, but that shriek still slipped out. "Frozen? That's even less possible! There's no way for the windigoes to reach down to it or they would have done that centuries ago! The aquifer is too far underground aside from the well here--"

"--And the well in the town," Tempest completed as she realized.

A moment passed.

"Princesses," Bit swore.

Starswirl put what they were all thinking into words. "The windigoes used the well in the town to access the aquifer. One of the cooks noticed last night that the water was much colder than normal but thought little of it. Not that we could have done much to prevent it if she had, but either way by morning it had frozen completely." He sighed, shaking his head. "I fear to think what that has done to the local geology. It may have permanently undermined the stability of the bedrock throughout this entire valley."

"You... you do realize we're going to dehydrate long before that, right?" Bit stared incredulously at the old sage.

And just as quickly, Starswirl waved it off. "There are resources to handle that," he dismissed.

Fortunately before any yelling could start, Script stepped in. "While we don't have any water stockpiled - since we didn't think we would need it - we still have the priory's cellars to keep everypony hydrated. The stocks down there should last a few days."

Bit rubbed his forehead with a hoof - then wobbled as his three remaining legs threatened to give way. Fortunately Scribble stepped in close, letting him lean into her side for support. "Script," managed the guard with a strained croak, "That's a wine cellar."

Totally unhelpfully, Scribble chirped a correction. "It also has the storage from the brewery!"

Bit ignored her because he needed her to stay standing. "Are you really suggesting that we take a thousand ponies on the edge of panic in a tightly enclosed space and give them nothing to drink but alcohol?"

Beside him, Tempest rumbled. "Do we have a choice?"

Ire spiked Script's voice, barely held in check. He obviously didn't like agreeing with her. "We do not."

Starswirl opened his mouth to take charge again - but Reliquary beat him to it with a firm stomp of her hoof. "Enough, all of you." She paused to make sure she had everypony's attention. "I understand that this is a serious issue and that the solution is just trading one problem for another. But it's all we have right now, and things aren't being helped by fighting among ourselves." Her level gaze swept to each of the others in turn, taking it all in. Script's simmering anger; Bit's weary frustration; Scribble's jagged nerves; Tempest's flat poker face; Starswirl's detached dourness. "No matter the problem, we have a task before us - one passed down from centuries of our ancestors. They did whatever it took to ensure that the ponies under their protection survived and we will do no less for ours. This is not a debate and this is not a competition. Am I clear?"

While a few grouchy looks were exchanged, the other five all nodded.

"Good." The Prioress let out a deep sigh. "Because who knows how long we have before something else goes wrong."

It was three hours.

Trouble started before that, of course. While they tried to keep things calm and quiet, holding back the information about the well was just as impossible as holding back knowledge of Tempest and Starswirl. Once word started to pass that there was no water for washing up and the foals were being given beer rations, ponies started asking questions that there were no easy answers to.

Awkward questions led to half answers. Half answers led to rumors. Rumors led to grumbling. And grumbling led to an angry mob outside the Prioress' office, clambering for something more than pleas for patience.

For their part, Bit's guards were holding firm. They were very visibly just as uneasy and distraught as the citizenry, but they stood tall and kept things from getting out of hoof. Bit himself was there on the front lines - legs constantly threatening to buckle but managing to keep him standing tall at the same time.

"Please, everypony! Calm down!" Bit waved his forelegs in the air, trying to focus the roiling sea of ponies on himself. "I understand that there's a lot happening right now and that everypony wants answers! But we have to do this in an orderly fashion because if everypony's talking nopony can hear anything!" The crowd rumbled dangerously, but quieted grudgingly at his point. "Now - to make sure we can handle these issues in a calm and sensible fashion, the Prioress has asked for a few ponies to volunteer or be designated as representatives. That way we can all work things out and then keep everypony here informed without devolving into complete chaos. Okay?"

As the crowd murmured assent and started to find who would represent it, Bit took a few steps back into the office. "That should buy us a little time. Hopefully they'll calm down."

"If they do, they're ahead of me." Scribble was pacing back and forth along the west side of the room, ping-ponging along the no mare's land between a glaring Script and a silent Tempest. "Because last I checked this was really bad, Bit! I can't blame them for panicking because I'm pretty close too!"

Sighing, Bit half sat, half collapsed beside Script. The monk immediately hoofed over a small glass of cherry wine that they'd pulled out - Bit tossed it back hard, swallowing the single mouthful. "Yeah. It's really bad. That's why everypony needs to keep their heads. It's going to be really easy for somepony to do something stupid right now and doom us all."

Tempest could feel Script's eyes burning into her at the phrase 'something stupid'. She paid him no mind. "As long as everypony stays inside, we can overcome. I have faith in Princess Twilight. And if not her, I've got faith in us."

"Faith and two bits will buy you a daisy sandwich," Starswirl dryly joked. All four of the locals looked confused; Tempest just snorted.

And after the snort, Tempest forged on. "What I mean is that I think we all agree that for now, any plan other than sheltering here is suicide. Any pony who leaves isn't going to last ten minutes against the windigoes. We've got another day and a half before all the magic is gone, if Starswirl is right. Until then, our best hope is hearing back from the Princesses. As long as there's magic, there's help a teleport away."

Around her, the others nodded. Some grudgingly, but none of them disagreed.

Their agreement was interrupted by a knock - and one of Bit's guards leaned his head in. "The representative's here." A quick nod from the Prioress and in came the crowd's proxy: Rye.

Tempest's snark lept to the forefront before she could restrain herself. "What, did they pick the most stubborn pony they could find?"

"Yes, actually." Rye stopped just barely far enough into the room for the door to close behind him - the opposite point from the Prioress and her desk. Face hard set, he locked his glare on the head of the House. "We agreed that any pony who came in here had to be willing to stand up to you, Prioress. These are our lives and we don't want empty words to placate us."

His glare met Reliquary's stone-hard face. Expression and tone as neutral as she could manage, the Prioress responded with a little nod. "I understand. None of us are under any illusions about how serious this is and--"

Rye cut her off. "And that's why I don't want to hear that you're working on it or that we need to keep our hopes up or just be patient. Don't put on the show for us - we want to know what's going to happen."

The Prioress opened her mouth to respond - and was cut off again as Tempest inserted herself into the conversation. "He's right. They deserve that much." Halfway across the room, Script let out a low growl. She ignored him. "If we're all supposed to be in this together, we can't leave anypony out just because they're a farmer or a baker or whatever."

It took a moment of visibly mulling that over before the Prioress nodded, but she did give that small note of agreement. "Right now," she explained, "We're holding to give the Princesses the chance to respond. Starswirl got a message out before the barrier collapsed, so we're hoping for rescue. They have considerably greater power to confront the windigoes with and I'm not willing to put anypony at greater risk right now than we have to."

Slowly, Rye's lips pulled to a tight line and his ears flattened out. "We're already at great risk. What's the plan if the Princess doesn't show up before we run out of something besides water?"

Hesitation. Then Reliquary admitted it with squirming reluctance. "We don't have one yet."

"That's not acceptable."

Script took a step forward at Rye's challenge, his hoof striking the stone floor with a dramatic rap. "Excuse me?"

"It's not acceptable," repeated Rye as he stood his ground. "I'm sure that you're trying your best, but these are our lives and not having a plan beyond praying isn't good enough."

Softly, Tempest snorted. "You weren't too picky about your life earlier."

Rye didn't budge. "Since you talked me into giving up my home, all I've got left is my life. And it's not just mine we're talking about."

Script took two stomping steps closer, coming just inside Rye's reach and cutting between him and Tempest. "Just what do you expect us to do? We can't fight the windigoes - even when we had our magic that didn't work."

"We can't fight but we can't stay here." Rye locked eyes with Script - and after a tense moment the monk blinked. The farmer's freed gaze clicked over to the Prioress again. "So we have to run."

"You can't run from the wind," she countered firmly.

Rye took a step forward, bulling Script aside. "If we split up we could. We can't outrun them, but even a windigo can't be everywhere at once."

This time it was Reliquary's eyes that steeled. "And how many freeze on that gamble? You're suggesting sacrificing most of us so that a tiny number have a chance to escape."

"So instead we stay and all starve." Rye shook his head. "No. I'll take my chances and I think everypony else will too." He paused, letting the words sink in before he made his threat. "We're going to go - it's the only real chance we have. I think everypony will feel better if you supported and helped us. You've never let us down before, Prioress."

They locked glares - and this time, there was no blink. Even as the Prioress stood and came out from behind the desk, her eyes stayed wide and on Rye's. "I," she stated calmly but firmly as she approached him, "Will not allow a sacrifice like that. Not from anypony. I don't care if it's acceptable or not - you're asking me to give up on ninety percent of the ponies here on the gamble that the other ten percent would be lucky."

"This isn't about what you'll allow anymore." For his part, Rye stood tall - knees locked, neck straight. "This is about what we have to do to survive."

"Yes," she agreed. "To all survive."

Reliquary placed herself before Rye, her spindly legs giving her a slight height advantage over the stockier farmer. They both still glared, unable to look away as their wills wrestled. Neither was willing to give, neither to back down.

It was settled when Tempest moved between them, interposing her far larger body and breaking their staredown. "Enough."

Instead of glaring at each other, both tilted up to glare at her.

Tempest didn't react, placidly looking from one to the other. "The Princess will come to help and we have to be patient. But Rye's right, too. We need a plan in case they don't." Starswirl - still beside the desk - opened his mouth to speak. Tempest cut him off before he could begin. "And sometimes sacrifices have to be made. It's terrible but that doesn't make it less true."

That made Reliquary finally waver - a shudder passing over her face before she looked downwards wearily.

On the other side of the orchid mare, Rye held firm for slightly longer before giving a tight-lipped nod.

That both backed down was enough for Tempest - at least for the moment. She looked to Rye first. "Things are bad without the water, but we aren't done yet. Do you think that everypony can give a little more time for the Princess to come? Say..." She paused momentarily. "Two days?"

He considered it for a good minute before making his counter-offer. "One day. More than that and I don't have any faith there won't be a catastrophe that ruins all the food or that fire stops being warm." Rye tried to make the last part a joke, but his own sand-dry laughter crumbled.

"One day," Tempest agreed. "And I'll open the doors to leave myself. You have my word."

Rye hesitated. "Swear on your Mark?"

"Swear on my Mark," Tempest agreed.

That was enough - the farmer turned with a nod and without another word, leaving the office to relay the agreement to the crowd.

The rest of the room stayed silent until the door closed - then Script snarled. "I expect you realize how many ponies you just killed, Commander." The bile-filled statement splashed across Tempest's coat. Growling, he stomped to the door, pausing only to throw another ire-filled shot back. "Excuse me. I need to go be anywhere else."

There was no slam to punctuate Script leaving - he let the door loosely drift closed in his wake. It did eventually, prompting Starswirl to finally break the awkward silence that overwhelmed everything. "Well, Miss Shadow. You've certainly picked a difficult road again. Mayhaps you should think more about your choices next time?"

"Good cop bad cop." Tempest sighed heavily, body slumping as the others looked to her. "If somepony didn't create a compromise position, there was going to be a fight on our hooves. And that would ruin us all no matter who won. So I had to step in." A quiet, dark chuckle slipped out. "I'm used to being the bad guy anyway."

Starswirl rubbed his face with a hoof. "Even so, you could have done it better. Or at least gotten more time. Just one day? That's hardly enough for anything."

There, Tempest could only shrug. "You said it yourself. By sundown tomorrow, all magic in Equestria will be gone forever. At that point, the Princesses can't help us. Even if they try, without magic they'll be days away. We'll have to control our own fates then."

Author's Note

The small ounce-sized wineglass that Bit drinks in the third scene is properly termed a 'pony glass'.

Also this chapter wins as 'most rewritten'. This one was a pain to try and make the last scene work without making any of the characters either seriously OOC or total jerks. I'm still not sure I succeeded.

13 - Trappist

After the confrontation, Tempest retreated to her spot in the radiant chapel. Alone again, she slumped against the outer wall and listened to the howl of the wind through the stone. There was nothing else to do at the moment - word was spreading through the townsponies of the potential escape and the House's leadership was in almost as much chaos as her own thoughts.

Dinner that evening was a hearty stew that used some of the beer as a broth - thick and bright with carrots. Of course, the meal was somewhat tainted by an argument in the kitchens. The regular members of the House who cooked - mostly layponies rather than the monks themselves - were loudly at odds with the sudden influx of townsponies who wanted to contribute and help. With the shellshock of the evacuation into the priory passed, the problem of too many cooks and tripping over each other had already become too much to bear.

Tempest paid it little mind, pushing the argument to the periphery of her thoughts. Her focus was on not spilling her bowl as she returned to the radiant chapel and the bricked window she'd claimed as her own. Space was at a premium after all and knowing where you'd sleep was a luxury.

An hour passed - perhaps two. Without the sky it was hard to tell and Tempest could only guess by watching how long it took the coal in the fire to burn. Her stew was gone, leaving a slight buzz in her head and a fading warmth in her stomach that contrasted with the chill of the wall at her back. All that was left was the breathing of ponies and the wait for the next day's coming crisis. Following the old soldier's creed - never turn down a chance to sleep - Tempest let her eyes drift closed in the flickering half-light.

They weren't closed for long, however. A noise tickled Tempest's ear - something out of place among the fire's crackle and the low white noise of ponies murmuring. Partly it cut through by the nature of it, but more because of how different the emotions felt from the rest: laughter standing tall among the lapping waves of low-level misery that the priory was flooded with.

Laughter separated out more as Tempest left behind her corner - out into the nave proper and the sound resolved into a wider range. Clapping in rhythm. Hooves clopping against stone as somepony danced. And - just before she rounded the corner to look directly - the strum of a dulcimer.

Coming to view the outer chapel, Tempest was greeted by possibly the brightest spot in the last day and a half. The pews had been moved aside, making room for a large central clearing. In the middle a group of ponies - mostly teens - were dancing to a twangy tune. Other young ponies sat around on the pews, swigging back mouthfuls of wine, clapping along and letting out the occasional hoot to encourage their dancing fellows. On one of the pews were two ponies alone: one was Bit, his barrel wrapped in linen to cushion his bruises. Despite the weariness that still saddled his face, he thumped a percussive beat on the top of a cookpot. But the star was Script - the scribe had a broad smile on as he strummed a dulcimer with the tip of his hoof. His worries - for Bit, for the valley, for himself - seemed absent and lost amidst the bouncing, plucky tune that drove the youth of the town to take turns dancing about the smoldering central fire.

It was good to see him smile, even from a distance.

Tempest didn't approach. She didn't dare impose, not with her and Script's fight still fresh and raw. Not when he seemed to be finding a moment of joy in everything. Keeping back, she leaned against the chill stone arch and watched.

As the tune switched to a twangy ragtime, the dancers broke apart. Instead of a crowd, only two at a time came to the center of the circle. Paired off, they danced in the flighty, flirty way that only the young could manage - constantly drifting to and apart, always on the edge of more serious contact before flitting away again with a laugh and a smile. And after a pass or two, each pair spun away to let another couple repeat their dance.

In spite of herself, Tempest cracked a little smile as she watched. The rag ended, transitioning into a more traditional ballad - one that Bit lifted to join with a rough but capable barritone. He sang using words Tempest didn't recognize, but they had a certain familiarity as the song lilted one word to the next.

"That's one of mine," came the uncharacteristically soft voice from just behind Tempest. She didn't turn - simply nodding as Scribble came to stand at the opposite side of the archway. "I couldn't get the words to fit the tune at first, but when I translated them to Old Ponish it ended up working."

"Old Ponish," Tempest repeated thoughtfully. "Makes sense, I guess. I didn't know you knew it, though."

A bit of her usual eagerness crept into Scribble's voice. "I'm self-taught! I learned it from reading through some of the early history texts." She paused, cheeks darkening with embarrassment. "Starswirl said my pronunciations are all wrong, though."

A snort in response. "Old goat." Tempest's tone mixed both amusement and irritation at the wizard. "He never can leave well enough alone." She was quiet for a moment, lips thin as she listened to the music. Then abruptly? "Tell me about the song."

The question jostled Scribble, who had thought the conversation already over. She wobbled on her hooves, body mimicking her mind as she recentered herself. "I, um, it's actually a little embarrassing. It was just after I got my Mark - when I wrote it, I mean. About their age," Scribble noted the teens around the circle with a slight motion of her head. "It's actually about how lost I felt at the time. Everypony around me had a Mark they could follow for their life, and mine was... It wasn't something I could spend my life doing. Not just that. So I got angry." She shifted uneasily. "Okay, not angry-angry, but I was really frustrated! And I wrote that song. It's about a young mare looking for her place in the world. As it turns out, Prioress Heart heard me singing it one day and that's how we first met."

"And you translated it then?"

Scribble shook her head. "No, that was later. I'm not as frustrated as I was when I wrote it, but it's still an important song to me. Without it, I wouldn't be where I am today so I've always come back to it." The corners of her mouth twitched up to a little smile. "I'm almost totally certain Bit doesn't actually know what the words mean - he just thinks it sounds pretty."

Another little laugh snuck out from Tempest. "Yeah, that sounds like him." Her smile was wider now - warmer as she finally looked to Scribble. "So what are the words?"

For a moment it seemed like Scribble was bashful about sharing - but she was just waiting for Bit to reach the refrain again. He launched into the repeating part of the song and she echoed him quieter, reciting it like a poem.

"I seek a shelf where I can rest my heart
A jar wherein I can preserve my joy
For every soul must find an anchor
In place
In deed
In pony
Lest it be swept away within the storm."

Scribble fell silent as Bit continued on, unaware of his brief duet. He belted out one more verse before the tune fell silent - picked up again after a few moments as he and Script transitioned into the next song. Scribble tapped her hoof in time as a shanty-like chant rose up from the circle.

"My name's not the one I was born with either."

Scribble missed her next tap.

"I picked a different one when I left home." Tempest didn't look to her, instead gazing upwards to the high vaulted ceiling of the chapel and the gathering haze of smoke there. "Something that fit better to who I'd become. So I think I understand what you were feeling when you wrote that."

Hesitantly, Scribble looked between Tempest and the far-off point in space she was staring at. "Because of your Mark?"

"Because of my life," Tempest un-clarified.

Neither spoke for a few seconds.

Tempest glanced over. "You're not going to ask what it was?"

"Nope." Scribble shook her head. "Out of anypony, I can understand it. You named yourself Tempest and that's who you are. It's what your life is, not whatever was before, right? Making a clean break from your past is important."

Tempest's ears flattened. "You're really good at making a completely different point than the one you're trying to make."

Scribble blinked, head canted to the side curiously. "Thank you?"

"I mean it." Tempest chuckled low and dark. "If you knew the life I had when I picked this name and where it led me, you'd be singing a different tune. Your point isn't wrong, though." Pushing off from the stone, she stepped away from the arch. "It just makes me wonder a bit - if I'm bound to change my name again for who I'm becoming."

A slightly giddy smile shot to Scribble's lips. "Are you taking suggestions?"

"Very no," laughed Tempest. Closing the gap between them, she nudged Scribble in the side. "Get in there. I'm still pretty new to the whole friendship thing, but even I know you shouldn't be watching a party."

The push moved Scribble a step closer and out of the shadow of the arch - but she still paused to look back to Tempest. "So why are you just watching, then?"

A slight motion of Tempest's head indicated the dulcimer playing scribe. "Because Script deserves to have a decent night and I'm not gonna be the one that ruins it for him."

"Fair enough," Scribble admitted with a little laugh. "Fair enough."

They parted with a smile - Scribble moving forward to join the circle, Tempest moving away and back into the priory.

Halfway back to her little corner, Tempest grunted as one of the townsponies staggered into her. The impact was barely enough to make her twitch, but it nearly dropped the stallion to the ground. He only stayed up by virtue of his cargo: another stallion, this one blearily looking around as he lay limp in his companion's grip.

The carrying stallion half-stuttered an apology. "S-Sorry, my friend's drunk. He fell down the stairs and--"

Tempest held up a hoof. "I get it. Let me help you with him."

In truth, it was barely effort. The limp stallion was less weight than Tempest used for training and he was barely more than breathing.

That was part of what concerned her in the minute it took to carry him to an open spot on the floor and lay him down.

He had all the signs of being drunk - wide, unfocused pupils; no coordination in what little movement he made; the hints of vomit at the corners of his mouth; and he was obviously disoriented to the point of uselessness. A few words tried to tumble out, but they were slurred and garbled.

His friend shook his head. "I didn't think he had that much, but I guess that's why he went to sleep it off. I'm not sure why he tried to come back down the stairs, though."

But something was off about it - his breath had only the same hint of alcohol that everypony around now had rather than an overwhelming stench. And he kept clutching one hoof to his chest as he took deep, ragged breaths.

Frowning, Tempest leaned in closer. Something about the situation stirred her memory - an old incident from her time serving the Storm King. She remembered one of the shaggy Storm Beasts being hauled before her, caught drunk on duty and trying to sleep it off in a hidden corner. The puzzle had wracked her brain for hours - where had the alcohol come from? They were underway, so it had to have been smuggled aboard. Yet none could be found and the bleary creature swore it had none. Eventually the beast's head cleared enough for a proper confession, revealing that it had merely fallen asleep and the 'drunkenness' was from the fumes of the airship's engines. Which was still the creature's own fault, as anywhere with proper ventilation--

Tempest's eyes shot wide. The drunken stallion forgotten, she looked upwards. The second floor of the priory was open for the most part - the open main hall giving plenty of vertical space to the occupants. Around the edge was a balcony, dotted with doors that led to various off-branches of the second level. All around in the hall simmered dozens of coal fires that warded away the pervasive chill, with many more scattered throughout the various rooms and nooks. Above, Tempest could see the murky haze of smoke clinging to the already soot-stained rafters, trapped with no way to escape into the open sky.

Her hooves were in motion before the thought completed. Tempest flew away from the fallen stallion, stampeding through a half-dozen smaller knots of ponies before she burst into the chapel. Her abrupt appearance was punctuated by a sour note, Script's playing derailed by her barreling into their circle.

Putting the dulcimer aside and rising, the scribe glared at Tempest. "What do you want," he snarled, more a threat than a question.

It didn't even slow her. "We need to evacuate the upper level, right now."

The anger didn't leave Script's eyes - but his voice banked it to mere irritated confusion. "...Why?"

"The fires." Tempest forced herself to slow down, taking each word with care to push back her own fear. "There's no ventilation for the smoke to escape, and the upper level is filling with coal fumes. Some of them are already showing symptoms - we have to get everypony out or they'll suffocate."

That was enough - the threat overrode petty squabbles. Script was giving orders before Bit or Scribble could even rise. "No time to be more organized about this. Everypony, up the stairs! One trip only - go up, grab somepony who's up there, come down. Nopony stays up for more than three minutes. I don't want to have to rescue the rescuers." The mass of young ponies - teenagers, some barely no longer foals - scrambled to comply. "Follow the Commander up and listen to her orders." Script turned on his frog. "Scribble, find the Prioress and let her know. We're going to need healers for anypony who's been up there too long."

There were likely more orders, but Tempest didn't stay to hear them. Her task was laid out: direct the rescue. She led the two dozen or so teens to the stairwell at a gallop, shouting for ponies to clear the path all the while. Taking the stairs three at a time, Tempest had just a moment of doubt as she reached the landing. If she was wrong and that stallion had just been drunk, she was about to waste a lot of ponies' time and cause a lot of grief.

Then she bucked open the nearest door, and none of the ponies inside reacted. Not so much as a twitch.

"Grab the nearest pony and go!" She paused only long enough to bellow that order before moving to smash open the next door. As Tempest continued down the line, only a handful of her bucks were met by reactions of surprise - in far too many, the inhabitants of the rooms stayed asleep or simply groggily looked around.

By the time she completed her loop of the balcony, more ponies were surging up the stairs as word spread through the level below. The last door broke apart under her hooves and two other ponies pushed past to grab the nearest victims. Tempest did much the same, lifting a dull yellow mare onto her back before joining the scramble back downstairs.

The mare tumbled off Tempest's back as she reached the bottom - a pack of other ponies were there, led by the Prioress and a grim-faced Script as they tried to help the victims breathe clean air again. For just a moment, Tempest and Script met gazes, locking eyes.

Then she went back up.

Tempest's second rescue was an elderly stallion, his coat more grey than blue.

Third was a mare - she had a stripe of yellow through her red mane that reminded Tempest of the similar pattern in Twilight's.

Last was a small filly. Tempest almost didn't see her, as the filly's grey coat smudged against her own greying vision. But a hint of color from the foal's purple mane caught Tempest's eyes. Grabbing the filly with her teeth, Tempest dragged her out and down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, the orchid mare fell over onto her heaving side and traded the world for blackness.

Author's Note

As I realized there may be some confusion: Luminous Script plays the mountain or Appalachian dulcimer, not the frequently more thought of hammered dulcimer. Remember, this little niche of obscurity is somewhat near the Smokey Mountains!

14 - Dominican

Wakefulness returned slowly - with a flutter of the eyes and a sharper breath. Tempest felt a cold cloth dabbing at her face first, touching gently. It pulled back as she opened up her eyes - of all the ponies she expected to be caring for her, Starswirl was probably near the bottom of the list. Yet he was there, a damp rag in hoof and a mixture of relief and concern on his brow.

Fortunately, he spared Tempest the indignity of asking the same stupid stereotypical question everypony asks when they come around after passing out. "It's been about half of a day," he related. "I presume you needed sleep no matter your condition and that compounded things."

Tempest licked her lips. "Mouth's kinda dry."

Gently, Starswirl lifted a small cup of wine and dribbled a bit into Tempest's mouth. "I fear you lost quite a lot of water as well as your dinner, Miss Shadow. Once you're feeling up to it, we'll get something back into you so you can keep your strength up."

A quiet chuckle snuck out of Tempest. "Better my dinner than some of the other things I could've lost."

"Yes. Quite." Starswirl's dry humor gave way to an odd hint of pride in his voice. "Foolishly going back up when you were already on the verge of collapse aside, your quick recognition of the situation means we were exceptionally lucky. A good two hundred souls owe you their lives."

That he mentioned those saved and not those lost - and with a tone of such cheer - lifted a weight that had been in Tempest's uneasy gut.

Tempest pinched her eyes shut and took a long, deep breath. One thick with the funk of unwashed pony and smoke, but clean enough. "Do we know why?"

It wasn't a good answer, as Starswirl's voice shifted from pride to grim stoicism. "The vents in the roof were iced over. These windigoes are smarter than the ones I remember." He paused for a moment. "Not that I was any use against those, either."

Slowly, Tempest nodded. "Right, that was Clover, wasn't it?" She grunted, shifting to put her hooves under her once more and rise.

Starswirl reached out to support Tempest as she did so, letting her lean into him for stability. "Yes. And much to my shame. Clover was indeed the most clever of us and found a magic I had discarded." He frowned, the memory creeping in on him. "I would continue to discard it even after Clover vanished. It took a thousand years for me to realize my error." Shaking his head, he cast the memory away again. "If you ever doubt yourself, Miss Shadow, remember that you have picked up in a year what it took me a lifetime to learn."

Quietly, Tempest scoffed as she shook the sleep from her legs one at a time. "You say that like you wouldn't have done the same thing."

"I wouldn't have." Shame tinged Starswirl's voice. "It is simply... not who I am. I would have stayed below and coordinated, yes, but to rush headlong into danger like that?" He shook his head. "No. I have tried to make myself better in that way, but the lessons of the past do not allow me to deceive myself."

They started slowly, shuffling towards the distant scent of food as Starswirl continued. "Do you know why it was Clover who founded Equestria and not I?" He paused just long enough for Tempest to forego a response. "Because I sent my student in my place. Because I felt that venturing out to find a new land was foolish and wasteful. So I dispatched Clover with Princess Platinum instead of accompanying her myself, staying behind to place my muzzle in books instead." A deep sigh came with a shake of his head. "And even when word reached me of what Clover had done, the only thing I felt was pride that my teachings had obviously been used to win the day. Even forming the Pillars was selfish - they were assistants, not equals. I was a--"

"You are no fool," Tempest interrupted. "And as I have been very strongly reminded as of late, even if you were that is not who you are. If you want me to believe in my own change, you should believe in yours, too."

They paused as a flock of foals stampeded past, enroute to some imaginary adventure. Starswirl quietly chuckled. "And you use my own words to show that this old stallion is yet limber enough to put his head up his own dock."

A laugh was shared as they got in line for food - Tempest could smell cabbage and wine - before lapsing briefly into silence. Tempest broke that after a few minutes. "So. Did we have another crisis while I was out, or was fate patient?"

"It kept us busy, but nothing of note." Starswirl dismissed it - then revised his explanation. "There was a brief spat among the kitchen staff. Apparently much of the food that was brought is not as immediately usable as hoped - unmilled grain instead of bread, for example. And having to work without water is a great limiter. They are making do, but not without complaint. There was also a small fight after one of the foals was caught stealing another's doll, causing their parents to turn violent." He waved it off. "All resolved."

Something in the back of Tempest's head jingled, and she looked at Starswirl with narrowed eyes.

He shifted uneasily for a few moments before sighing. "There was a brief but spirited discussion by some of the more stout locals. They had the stunningly foolish plan to dig downwards from the wine cellar and try to break into the catacombs below the churchyard." Starswirl scoffed quietly, then hesitated as a bowl of steaming cabbage and onions was ladled out for him and then for Tempest. As they broke from the line to find a place to eat, he continued. "With losing the second floor, things have gotten rather cramped. It would be a grim space to sleep, but space none the less. Of course, once we entered into it we would have mere minutes to seal the outer entrance up before the windigoes found their way inside. And the plan was discarded as well once the prospective rock-breakers realized that the digging would take longer than your deadline for attempting to escape, rendering the entire idea moot."

Finding a place in the crowded throng, the pair sat beside each other and started to eat. Eyes downcast into her cabbage, Tempest half-heartedly denied his words. "It's not my deadline."

Her denial was deflected by a passive-aggressive chuckle from the old sage. "You were the one who set it, Commander. Everypony else has attributed it to you - you may as well own it yourself."

A few more slow chews. A swallow. And then a reluctant question. "How long before it now?"

The best answer Starswirl could give was a shrug. "Not long, I suspect. But then we'll be packing up for some time instead - a herd this large cannot possibly move at night, after all."

"They'll have to." Tempest set her jaw, stone-faced and grim. "If we're going, we can't afford to do anything less than our all. Forced march through the night and we should be able to make Stirrup Hill in two days."

Starswirl glared at Tempest, expression uncomfortably halfway between incredulity and frustration. "You can't possibly expect to force-march nearly a thousand untrained townsponies for two days. Particularly since not a one of them has ever been more than a ten minute gallop from where they were born."

His words hung in the air as Tempest went through two more mouthfuls of cabbage. Then, direly, she responded. "I don't think they're going to have much choice."

A spike of anger flashed through Starswirl's eyes and he opened his mouth to give a fiery retort to her foolish idea. But the words died as Scribble came weaving through the crowd to them. "Starswirl! Starswirl!" There was panic in her voice that instantly derailed the two outsiders' discussion. She got as close as she could to them before delivering her message, voice taut as a violin. "Prioress Heart needs you in the library immediately. There's a problem."

Bowls discarded, all three rapidly picked their way out of the throng and to the library. Their entry was delayed slightly, pushed back by a small herd of ponies moving out at a pace slightly faster than any casual shift should have been. That was the first hint that things were seriously awry. The second was that the library was almost entirely clear of ponies - unlike how the rest of the priory was packed nearly to bursting.

The only pony present was the Prioress herself - and Reliquary paced back and forth in the central reading area of the room. Hooves on flagstone drew her attention in short order. "I said everypony is to leave imm-- Oh thank Celestia, you found him." Reliquary gave Scribble a quick hug as thanks before turning her eyes to Starswirl. "We were lucky."

The old stallion raised a bushy eyebrow. "It's a problem and we're lucky?"

"Lucky because a keen-eared foal discovered the problem before it became a catastrophe." Reliquary pointed towards the roof. "The foal innocently asked his mother what the scraping noise was. She brought it to my attention and it only took a few minutes of listening to catch it."

All four of them stopped, ears pricked as they waited for the sound that had caused so much trouble. There was nothing but silence for more than a minute - then Tempest's ears swiveled as she caught a slight scraping noise. They all focused on it a moment later as there was the howl of a gust of wind, followed by a slightly louder scrape. Another gust; another scrape; then one last gust and the rapid clatter of stone bouncing on stone.

Reliquary was ahead of them because she'd been listening before. "It's the roof tiles. The windigoes are peeling them off, one by one."

Starswirl's grey face paled. "The belltower's fall must have damaged the roof."

A nod from the Prioress confirmed his theory. "It created a weak point and they're chipping away at it little by little." She ignored Tempest cursing under her breath. "As I said - we were lucky. If that foal hadn't identified the sound and spoken up about it, the windigoes could have broken in. Now we have enough time to reinforce the roof and prevent that."

"Impossible." Starswirl dismissed the idea with the same ease as refusing extra salt on his meal. "The amount of work it would take to reinforce a room this large would be ridiculous, even if we were staying. The windigoes could break through at any time, and keeping a few dozen ponies in here working would put them at risk for very little gain. Better to seal the door and be done with it. We shall likely have to do so with the upper level rooms nearby as well - they may have also been compromised. That will be dangerous, but we cannot leave them open."

He likely interpreted the silence that followed as dour agreement rather than the shock it really was. It took several seconds of open-mouthed gawking before Reliquary could find the words. "No!" Her gasped exclamation pulled Starswirl's attention back. "If it were anywhere else I could accept that, but not here!" She waved a hoof at the tall shelves around them, each packed tight as Moondancer's own with books and scrolls. "This is the accumulated knowledge of fifty generations - we can't just abandon it!"

"And yet we must, and we will." Starswirl looked to the shelves, regret seeping into his tone. "I am loathe to abandon it but saving it is beyond our means. All we can do is hope that the roof's inevitable collapse and the snow leave most of the volumes relatively intact."

The Prioress stomped forward, shoving her face into Starswirl's and nearly smashing their horns against each other. "You cold-hearted spawn of a windigo! We are not just going to throw away the House's entire history!" She jabbed him with a hoof, sending his bells jingling. "And you should say the same! Look what you went through just to get access to it!"

He didn't flinch - didn't move. Starswirl stayed stoically still, barely even looking at Reliquary's desperate face. "As I said, I am loathe to say it. We must have our priorities straight, however. This is an extraordinary situation and we must face facts. This knowledge was lost before - losing it again--"

"Not to us," Reliquary snapped angrily. "Maybe it was lost to you, but not to us! This is the backbone of this House and our lives - you can't dismiss it as if it were nothing!" Hurriedly stomping to the nearest table, she grabbed a book off it - a fairly generic brown tome, distinguished only by the ancient yellow of the pages. She threw it at Starswirl, falling short but still managing for it to bump against his hoof. "That treatise by Nail Puller includes techniques of long-range telekinesis that you told me have been lost for generations!" She threw another book - this one going a bit too high and to the right. "Or that one! That's the one by Evergreen you said could revolutionize recovery time after magical exhaustion!" She grabbed for another book before stopping herself. Instead of hurling a book, she just glared at the sorcerer. "I could easily find a dozen volumes that you praised and talked about how important they were. And now you want us to walk away from them without a fight?"

Legs rod-straight, Starswirl didn't move. "None of this is without a fight, Prioress." She winced as he hissed her title at her. "The last two days have been nothing but a fight. And as part of that, we must make sacrifices. Losing this knowledge is a tragedy, but a portion of it will survive and the resources needed to save it are too high and the task too risky. Knowledge can be recovered, but lives cannot."

Shame pushed down Reliquary's gaze, forcing her to look at her hooves. But she wasn't beaten. "I'm not suggesting trading ponies for books. But we can't just surrender all of this without even trying. We have to try and save it, Starswirl."

"We can't." Starswirl's ire finally gave - he crossed the space between them, setting a hoof on her shoulder. "Even if there were no risk, we will be leaving soon. And then the library shall be left to the windigoes' fury no matter what is done to the roof. I don't wish to see these things lost, but our only options are to leave them or to take risks with no gain."

"But without this, what do we really have left? We've already lost our homes and our livelihoods, now we're to lose our history and culture in an escape attempt that will lose most of us." Reliquary sagged. She turned her head to the other two - Scribble would be no help. She was simply watching, face locked in the frown of a child seeing her parents argue. So instead the Prioress looked to Tempest. "Commander, please, say something. You came all this way - are you ready to abandon everything?"

That was an iron barb into Tempest's heart. Because Reliquary was right - abandoning the library meant giving up on the entire reason they came to the House in the first place. Starswirl hadn't found anything yet - nothing firm. But he had implied a promising hint or two. Without the library, even that thin sliver of hope was lost. The chances of Starswirl finding a solution in the waning hours of the windigo siege were vanishingly slim, but Tempest had brought literal war to entire nations on less.

And that thought slapped her across the face.

Tempest pinched her eyes tightly shut, pushing down her welling fear. "If I said we should stay - I wouldn't be growing from my mistakes. I'd be putting other's lives at risk for my own selfish needs. As much as I want to agree with you, Prioress, I can't. Because if I did, it means I haven't learned anything." The next line was harder, forcing her to pause for a sharp breath before shoving it out. "We have to abandon the library and hope for the best. Maybe the damage won't be as bad as you're afraid of."

That blow put Reliquary down for the count - she slumped into one of the chairs beside the nearby table. "I... I'm afraid, alright?" She didn't look at any of them, instead staring at her hooves. "I guess the library's just making it real for me. We're leaving. Everything we've ever known - everything any of our ancestors has ever known - is being left behind here." She laughed - short, sharp and darkly bitter. "Some adventurer. It's a new journey with nothing to hold me back and all I can think about is everything we're losing and how much I'm going to miss."

Inching over, Scribble gave her boss a loose hug. "Like tea in the solarium?"

"Or your blackberry patch," Reliquary offered back with a wan smile.

"Or how Script pitches a fit whenever anything's in the wrong place."

The two laughed together quietly and continued their reminiscing in low, soft voices.

Starswirl - standing awkwardly beside them - shifted with unease while the two mares traded fragments of memories from their lives. When they finally ran out of words and lapsed into bittersweet silence, he spoke up. "I know I can be... brusque at times. I have never been a people pony. Do not think I miss what this sacrifice means to you, Reliquary. It hurts me to give up on it and I can only imagine how badly it hurts you." He reached out, gently touching a hoof to her cheek. She hesitated slightly, then tilted her head into it. "This old stallion is perhaps a bit too used to making sacrifices and forgets that others are not. And while I won't budge from saying we must go... can you forgive me for being cold?"

Her response was to release her hug with Scribble and take Starswirl in one instead. "I can," Reliquary pronounced with a small smile. "You weren't trying to be hurtful and... you're right. I hate that you are, but you're right." Breaking away, Reliquary returned to the table they had been working at when everything went wrong two days before. She picked up one of the books remaining on it - the embossed cover declaring it Studies In Non-Unicorn Magic by Golden Rays - and idly flipped through the first few pages. "Do you think... Scribble, once we're done here? Maybe you could help me write the story of our little valley. Even if we lose these books, we could create a new one and let all of Equestria know what became of the House?"

"I'd be honored." Scribble said, head bowed low.

Then it - and the rest of theirs - shot up as the door slammed open. Luminous Script stood there, panting and eyes panic-wide. They waited, tense, for him to reveal what new crisis had happened.

"Listen," he finally said.

It took a moment for everypony to realize he meant to listen rather than the lead-in for a longer statement. So they stopped. And they did.

Scribble was the first one to key in, sharp ears catching the lack of sound. "...There's no wind." The muffled white noise that had roared in the background was gone. Silent for the first time in days.

Tempest's eyes went wide as she realized it as well. And shoving Script aside, she bolted out of the library and into the priory proper.

15 - Mercedarian

Outside the storm had stopped. Inside the Tempest had not. Her voice boomed out over the crowd of townsponies, breaking their confusion like a hammerblow.

"START PACKING." That command alone was enough to yank all attention to her. "Essentials only - food, any remaining water, warm clothes! Leave behind the coal, you won't have time to stop and make a fire! Spread the word to everypony and be ready to leave! You have ten minutes before we start moving, so don't waste it!"

As the gathered ponies erupted into chaotic action and the ones she'd left in the library caught up, Tempest turned to Starswirl. "Alright, this is going to be the hard part. Getting all of them organized enough to move is going to take--"

"What is going on, Miss Shadow?!"

Tempest screeched to a confused halt at Starswirl's irate shout. "What?"

All around them was maddened movement and packing, but a thin bubble formed around the six ponies - Tempest, Starswirl and the four members of the House's leadership - to let them hold court amidst everything. The four locals, for the moment, let the old sorcerer take the lead.

And he did with sneering gusto. "I would think the question was basic enough for you, Commander! The windigoes have mysteriously stopped trying to freeze us all and you're acting as though it was something you expected!"

Uncomprehendingly, Tempest blinked at him. "But it is? We all knew this was coming."

Starswirl's temper flared like he wished his horn would. "Since when have we known that?!"

Deeper confusion sank into Tempest's face. "You're the one who told us it would." Her eyes darted around the little circle they'd formed, searching for another pony to confirm her statement. None did, driving her confusion to concern. "He did!" Her voice quavered defensively. "We were all there in the library! We all heard what he said - by the end of the day, unicorn magic would fail. Then artifacts would lose their power then the magic of creatures would be drained away! By sundown of the third day, magic would be gone! And what's more magic than a windigo?"

Shock and realization set in on the other's collective faces. Script's jaw worked wordlessly, unable to form words. Starswirl's thankfully was more capable. He sputtered indignantly at his own oversight, reflexively turning the tables to deflect. "You knew this was going to happen and you didn't tell us?!"

Temper flaring hot, Tempest lobbed right back. "Why would I tell you? You're the one that told me it was going to happen!" The shot landed square, making the wizard flinch back. "I assumed that the infamous Starswirl the Bearded would already know the thing he told me about!" That outburst passed, she gave a quick look around again. "Really? All of you were hanging on every word he said except the obvious one that directly related to the number one problem in your lives?" Another glance around, and everypony found somewhere else to look in their shame. Tempest sighed heavily with annoyance.

"So..." Scribble was the one who found her voice first. "The windigoes are gone?" A tiny spark of hope flickered in her.

Tempest hesitated there. "They're probably just depowered. Whatever that means. Maybe they're just air or something. What matters is that without magic, they can't continue the storm - and that means we can escape." Before any of the others could respond, she locked eyes on Starswirl. "You should take the lead. You and I are the only two who actually know where the nearest town is, and if you and the Prioress are at the head it should be easy for everypony to follow."

For a moment, Starswirl locked narrowed eyes with Tempest. Nothing was said - until he gave a small but firm nod. "I'll see to it." He half-turned away, then paused and looked back. "It's a shame you never got the chance to meet my fellow Pillars, Commander. I think some of them would have gotten along quite well with you."

The sorcerer and the prioress started to confer over to the side as Tempest took command with the remaining three. "Scribble, I'm going to need you to be at the back. That list you made for everypony coming in? As of now that's a checklist for making sure everypony's left."

Scribble tilted her head curiously. "You actually think anypony is going to stay here like this?"

"I'd prefer that we didn't get halfway to Stirrup Hill only to realize half a dozen foals thought this would be a great time to play hide and seek." Tempest's lack of amusement carried with it the weight of hearing Cutie Mark Crusader tales.

The warning obviously struck home as Scribble pursed her lips and nodded before galloping off to get her list.

That just left Bit and Script - the latter still warily watching the mare.

Which made Tempest sigh. "Look. I know things haven't been great lately, and I'm sorry I pissed you off, Scri--"

"But we have bigger problems than my being mad at what you did to Bit," Script completed, interrupting Tempest like a machete.

She nodded. "Interpersonal issues after saving everypony. Everything else can wait."

Bit gave Script a little nudge with his side - wincing as he was reminded of his bruises. "And this is a place where you shine, Commander. So where do you want us?"

"At the rear." Tempest didn't hesitate with that. "Just like I wanted Prioress Heart and Starswirl at the front, you're going to be at the end to make sure nopony strays off." Both stallions nodded with understanding. "Now get your supplies - I'm going to supervise opening the doors."

They broke their separate ways, each to their tasks. Throughout the priory, ponies who had spent the last two days listless and huddled were now a maelstrom of motion. Saddlebags and sacks packed; last minute food scarfed down; each knot of ponies doing quick headcounts of their own.

At the main doors Tempest found ponies already working at the barrier, taking bar and hook to the stone. Tearing down the makeshift barrier only took a few minutes - just barely long enough for Starswirl and Reliquary to gather their packs. Grim-faced, they stood beside Tempest at the doors, wordlessly staring at them. Behind the three milled the rest of the valley's inhabitants, waiting for the signal to go. A minute more, and Scribble drew up beside them with her list. Only then did the silence break.

"If you don't stop," Tempest evenly noted without looking to Starswirl, "You can make Stirrup Hill in two days. It's going to be a hard march but the longer you're out in the wilderness, the more chance there is of something going wrong."

The sage nodded. "We only have food for three, perhaps four days. And still no water. But we'll make it." Bells jingled as he turned his head slightly to her. "I'll tell the Princess for you."

That pulled a little smile to Tempest's lips. "Yeah. I'd appreciate that." Then with a swing of her hips, she bucked the doors open.

Fresh air and sunlight rushed in, clearing the stuffy priory and momentarily blinding them all. But the outside was still invigorating - the bracing chill air cutting through the accumulated funk of coalsmoke and body odor. Around them, the town was covered in a blanket of wet snow - just under fetlock-deep - but the holiday-like beauty of it was marred by evidence of the looming threat. Several buildings had been collapsed by the wind and many more encased in ice as a reminder of their enemy's power - and of the rage the windigoes had at being so close to their prey but still out of reach. Perhaps the most striking thing, however, was the silence. Even setting aside the lack of noise from nature, the past few days had been a constant background rumble of muffled wind, pony murmurs and flame-crackling. Now? Nothing. Dead still and empty.

The sorcerer and the prioress led the procession away from the town - a long, bedraggled line of ponies that stretched out as their various states of unreadiness for the journey began to already cause problems. But luck was on their side still, and they remained undisturbed even as the trailing tail passed out of the priory's keep.

The last ones out were Bit and Script. They stopped beside Scribble as she made two last check marks on her list. "And done. That's everypony." She turned to Tempest. "One hundred percent in and out."

She gave a curt nod in response. "Thanks, Scribble. You three should get going now. You don't know the way, so you don't want to lose sight of the column."

Bit paused. "You three?"

Turning her head towards the western mountain, Tempest gave only a slight nod.

"You're not coming with us?" Scribble's voice wavered on the edge between hurt and worried.

"...Eventually," Tempest hedged. "Probably." She hesitated again, then confessed it with a sigh. "We all have our jobs. Yours is to make sure nopony gets left behind or strays off. Mine's to make sure that the windigoes aren't going to give chase."

Bit set his jaw. "You can't--"

She cut him off. "I can, I'm going to, somepony needs to and absolutely nopony else is capable." Tempest smirked slightly. "This isn't my first rodeo, Bit. Windigoes are still predators, magic or not. They're not going to let the prey they've been stalking for centuries walk away. And even if you weren't still half-dead from the tower, you don't have any magic and you've got no idea about how to fight without it. Not a single pony here but me does."

The guard captain didn't retort - Scribble did. "Starswirl wouldn't let you do this and we won't either."

Tempest shook her head. "Starswirl knows. He didn't need it spelled out, but he knows." She paused, looking out towards the edges of town. "You three need to go. If I'm wrong and they don't chase or they're too weak without their magic or they stopped existing, I'll catch up by morning." She didn't bother to elaborate on the other possibility.

Still, the others hesitated. Bit was the one that finally stepped forward with it, giving her a respectful nod. "May your journey be warm." And then he turned away.

Script looked for a moment between Bit and Tempest - then bowed his head to her as well. "You knew it was going to be this way, didn't you."

"From the start," she confirmed evenly. Her eyes flicked to Bit as he started to walk. "Take care of him, alright?"

"Always." Script managed a small smile. He hesitated, mouth half-open - but the words weren't there. So he bobbed his head once more and turned away.

Scribble was the last, still standing a few paces away from Tempest and staring at her. But no amount of will and hope changed things. After another long minute, she pinched her eyes shut and sighed. Then she, too, turned away.

Tempest held firm until they were gone, cantering across the foot of the mountain. The only part of her that moved were the ears, sweeping around for the tiny hints of noise that betrayed her opponents. And they were out there - little sounds on the dying wind. Hoof-scrapes on stone and heavy snorted breaths. Just where they were was baffled, the sounds partially hidden by the scattered snowdrifts and the town's maze of houses and laneways. But the windigoes were getting closer - likely approaching with caution. Prey that didn't flee was something to be wary of, after all.

So she waited, standing in the middle of the priory's gate. Watching westwards as the sun touched the horizon - and then started to dip below it.

In that slow twilight, they showed their horrible visages.

The windigoes crept out from between the houses, stalking slowly. They moved like wolves, spreading out and creeping with careful steps as they tried to approach Tempest from as many directions as they could - limited by the monastery's walls, but fanning out before her none the less. And what Tempest saw turned her stomach.

Legends called the windigoes pony-like. And perhaps they were, in the same way that the metallic howl of a chainsaw was music. Their forms were a gruesome parody of a pony's, alike only in that they were even further from other species.

Quadrapeds, yes - but a windigo's leg was long and thin, barely more than skin stretched over bones and ending in a rough, inflexible hoof. Their barrels were hulking, bloated to a sickening size. Each windigo's coat was white - though not a bright Celestial white. Instead it had a grey-white pallor like dirty snow, topped by a shocking mane of frigid white-blue. Their whole form was gaunt in all the wrong places and bloated in others, creating a twisted and extreme version of the thin look that was 'in' with Canterlot noblemares or natural to Saddle Arabians. It didn't help that even the smallest was as tall as Celestia and the largest's head was at the height of the town's roofline.

But it was the face was where things went from merely disgusting to horrific. The muzzle was long, stretching their face out hideously. Their mouths were as well, obviously far too large to form words around inequine buck teeth. But what really was off-putting was the eyes. Rather than being set ahead like a pony's, the windigo had one on either side of their stretched, narrow head. Each was a tiny dot far smaller than the pony eye - hard little marbles, black as the Nightmare. No matter what Starswirl had claimed, there was no intelligence in those eyes. Just the cold, unthinking bloodlust of a born predator.

Shivers of fear wracked Tempest as she stared down the horrific creatures, putting every hair in her coat on end. She only just barely held back the bile rising from her gut, swallowing it and her terror back down again.

They could smell the fear. She was sure of it.

A dozen now - roughly - had come out from the town. It was hard to get a precise count as they wound around each other and the scenery to baffle her eyes. But they were closing in, inch by inch.

Tempest took a single step forward, more to bolster her own confidence than anything else. The strike of iron-shod hoof solidly planting on stone rang louder than a cannonshot in the silent town.

The windigoes froze in place.

She took another step forward - and they backed off slightly. Warily watching her.

"Heh." A slip of amusement curled Tempest's lips as her courage rose. "You're not sure if you can take me without your magic, are you. You're so used to being powerful and untouchable that you don't remember how to fight an actual threat. And that's too bad. After three Princesses, I was thinking that punching a myth would be moving up the difficulty ladder."

Then she lunged.

The windigoes recoiled, scattering backwards as the orchid mare hurled herself at the nearest. Unused to their physical forms, they flailed wildly as Tempest turned herself into a missile. Her first target was already off-balance when her forehoof connected with its face, sending the gangly monstrosity careening backwards. It impacted with one of the nearby houses with enough force to cave in the wall, collapsing the house in a cacophony of falling stone and snow.

The second windigo didn't fare much better - Tempest was on it before the wall finished falling. She slammed her body into one of its bulbous knees and was rewarded with a snap and a high-pitched whinny of pain. The creature staggered, blindly trying to put weight on the injured leg and collapsing when it gave. Tempest didn't let up, striking its bloated barrel with a quick barrage of hoof-strikes that knocked the wind out of its lungs and left the beast in a pained daze on the ground.

She twisted, bloodlust rising and seeking her next target. But they were all over, lacking a herd's movement as they directionlessly milled at what they thought was out of her reach. Not a one wanted to be the first to attack their unexpectedly aggressive prey. So she made the choice for them.

Target number three was the first to fight back. As Tempest barreled towards it, the creature reared up on its hind legs. Forelegs tipped with unforgiving hooves lashed out wildly, kicking in the air at head-level for a pony. Tempest was forced to dive under that, sliding in to try and kick its rear leg out as she had the previous windigo. But her snowy slide stole away most of the momentum and Tempest bounced off the long, bony leg. The beast dropped back to all fours, slamming down to try and stomp the pony under it - she rolled away, squeaking narrowly clear. The nearest hoof missed stomping her barrel, instead just barely bouncing off the side of it. The windigo's size and mass still gave the glancing strike enough force that Tempest felt her frock tear and one of her ribs buckle.

On her hooves again, it took only two breaths to be sure the rib was broken - each inhale brought with it a sharp, stabbing pain. There was no time to even think about that, however. The windigo was charging her, trying to keep her off-balance. Taking two steps backwards to buy an extra second, Tempest grabbed at the nearest thing at hoof: a piece of debris from one of the broken buildings. The windigo - so used to being insubstantial - lacked the sense of mind to dodge and took the stone directly to it's elongated muzzle.

Tempest turned and dashed as it brayed in pain. The first one she'd struck was starting to rise - and did so directly into another wide-swinging roundhouse. It dropped again, pitch-black eyes rolled back.

That meant two were down - but the cost was time. Time enough for the initial panic to pass and time for the other windigoes to spot the way Tempest grimaced as she moved. It was their turn to scent opportunity. Two came charging at her from the front - side by side with legs churning. Tempest's body tensed, automatically starting to dodge to the side - but at the last moment she caught movement from the corner of her eye as a third came from an angle.

Her roll to the side became a surge forward, catapulting her towards the charging windigoes. Tempest dove through their long legs, swerving and weaving a slalom to escape out the other side. She disappeared for a moment into the roostertails of snow they were kicking up - but her torn frock remained behind, ripped off her body and trampled underhoof.

Out the other side, she glanced back to see the three windigoes collide and fall into a pile. But just three - the other half-dozen or so were just starting their pursuit. Turning towards the nearly vanished sun, Tempest rushed back into the town with the windigoes after her.

She was more agile, but their gaunt legs gave them bigger strides - outrunning them was impossible. One slipped and slid on an ice patch, unused to physical hooves. It collided with another in a crash - but she knew they wouldn't stay down long.

Tempest bought herself time by swerving between the buildings - ducking away out of their lines of sight, only to loop around and hit the windigo herd from their blindside. Another of them went down as she lept from an alleyway, planting all four iron hooves into its side and shoving the creature into the soot-scorched ovens of the bakery. They were long iced over but the beast still flailed as they fell on top of it.

Another charged her as she paused, its wide mouth of blunted teeth nipping at her. There was a brief pull as it snatched a few hairs from her tail, but the gangly windigo wasn't able to get a solid hold. But that tiny moment of hesitation brought the others down like an avalanche - windigoes swarmed, not hesitating to bull and shove each other in their piranha-like frenzy to get at her.

And Tempest's world was reduced to a manic storm of sharp hooves and stomping legs. She was preserved only by the towering beasts' own inaccuracy and their bloodthirsty eagerness to shove the others out of the way to strike a blow. Still - it was down to luck more than skill that let Tempest scramble clear. Perhaps not free - as her growing number of bruises and scrapes would attest - but clear.

Which is when that same luck turned on her.

One of the windigoes sensed Tempest's escape and bucked backwards. Her vision swam as directions spun around and around - before she impacted against an iced-over building with enough force to jar her teeth halfway from her head. Though her daze, Tempest tried to rise. She failed, managing only just barely to plant one forehoof and bring her aching head up. Even with her vision blurred, she could see the closest of the windigoes turning and rushing at her.

Inside her head, Tempest screamed at her limbs to obey. To move. Move or die.

But they didn't. The windigo descended on her - a predator going for the killing blow on wounded prey. Tempest threw her foreleg up by instinct, even though she knew it wouldn't stop anything. The windigo's hooves came smashing down, aimed for her head.

But rather than a bone-shattering impact, Tempest instead felt a bone-rattling chill. The windigo's hooves evaporated into a cold wind as they slammed into her, robbing the creature of its physicality and its force. Frosty mist swirled around Tempest as she lay, still braced for a blow that had dissolved even as it landed.

She blinked as her eyes re-aligned. All around her the milling windigoes vaporized, leaving the air thick with panic and frost. Tempest's own confusion cleared away as she felt a tingle in her forehead - and with a tiny bit of concentration brought her horn to sparking.

"...Twilight you incredible crazy mare." The windigoes were confused - and that meant the chance to turn the tables again. Tempest struggled to her hooves, a manic grin on her lips and lightning in her brain. Chaos reigned as the windigoes tried to adjust to their abrupt shift back to insubstantiality, swirling through each other as they regained their bearings.

Then everything was heat and light. Regulating her power never occurred to Tempest - there was no measured force or reserve kept for a second attack. Tempest turned the sky into a hellstorm, her shattered horn vomiting energy at the chill monsters. The frozen town was lit up like dawn had come early as raw, unfettered magical power ripped into the windigoes.

And for just a moment, it worked.

Inequine cries of fear and pain echoed through the valley as Tempest lashed the windigoes with all her power. One flailed wildly in the air, writhing as a burst of magic exploded inside of its vaporous barrel. But while it hurt - it didn't stop them.

Windigo winds ripped at Tempest, pushing her mohawk flat and sending chilly goosebumps up under her coat. Another gust from the side shoved her off-balance, staggering her and breaking the concentration of her attack. She only bobbled for a moment - but it wasn't stopped by regaining her balance. Tempest stopped sliding because her hooves froze to the cobblestone.

The sudden stop made Tempest lurch - but even teetering off-balance, she wasn't able to fall. A glance down clarified that her hooves hadn't merely been frozen: they were outright encased in ice. And in each passing second, that ice was creeping up her legs as it had to the ancient tribal leaders of legend. Tempest spent only a moment trying to pull herself free before giving up the futile task - instead putting all of her remaining energy into her horn, pulsing arcs of lightning and concussive force into the sky.

Swirls of snow and ozone swam around Tempest as the ice passed her fetlocks and came to her knees. She knew the battle was lost: it had been the moment the windigoes showed up. Now it was just fighting off frostbite for a little while longer. Blasting the windigoes as they whirled around her did little to them, but it did warm Tempest's heart a little. Even petty, ineffective revenge was better than passive acceptance.

The ice reached the bottom of her barrel and the shivering cold finally overwhelmed Tempest's magical thrashing. Her magical reserves - only just restored - petered away to a few dwindling sparks. With that last bit of fight gone, Tempest consigned herself to one final defiance: locking eyes with the largest of the windigoes and glaring, focusing her will into a thin lance of fury to let the creature know she had lost... but she wasn't beaten.

Warm spring air - searing compared to the soul-deep chill of the ice - erupted to Tempest's left. Grey magic tore a hole through space, opening a portal wide enough for a train to pass through. But rather than that it disgorged a swarm of ponies - smelly, dirty, slightly drunken unicorns with Starswirl the Bearded at the head. A hundred colors of magic lit the sky as chaotic beams cascaded from the crowd.

Reliquary Heart lifted her voice, yelling over the rising wind. "It only took three ponies to defeat them once! We are a dozen dozen times that! Push them back! We can win, my ponies!"

In truth, the blasting magic did nearly nothing to the windigoes. Even as beam after beam pierced the sky, it barely tickled. But what did have power?

Bit Bridle - still exhausted and barely able to form a spark on his horn - standing with his fellows and giving every bit he could manage.

Luminous Script standing beside Bit, letting the captain lean into him for support both physical and spiritual.

Rye Kaiser yelling at the sky, demanding his son's heritage back.

Reliquary Heart shouting exaltations the ponies around her, trying to fulfil the House's legacy of standing against the cold and refusing to abandon those who had given their all.

Scribble using her magic to smash the ice and free Tempest amidst the battle, ignoring her own safety to save somepony who had been a stranger just three days before.

The warmth of spring from the other side of the portal wasn't what Tempest felt in her bones as the ice around her chipped away. The whole of the crowd was suffused with a pink sunset-like glow - summer hot, melting the snowbanks.

The windigoes recoiled, braying and whinnying as spark turned to flame, igniting the crowd. A rainbow of unicorn magic chased them as the mythological creatures fled southwards into the mountains, parting clouds as they took flight from the valley.

In their wake, the valley went silent once more.

Then came a gentle, warm breeze.

16 - Trinitarian

It was good to have spring back. The perpetual near-autumn of the valley around the House of the Rising Sun had felt wrong the whole time they had been there - not to mention that Tempest had spent most of her life in the warm southern seas, making the chill feel even more off. But now that she was away from both, the slightly damp warmth of a more moderate late spring was refreshingly comforting.

Comforting, too, was the castle gardens of Canterlot. Despite this only being her second time in them, memories of the first three weeks earlier had already solidified them as a safe place. The company helped, as well.

Tempest bowed her head respectfully. "My Princess. Prioress."

Princess Celestia smiled softly. "Be at ease, Commander. We were just coming looking for you. Will you walk with us?"

"To beyond the ends of Equestria." Tempest fell in on Celestia's left, just as Reliquary Heart was on her right.

Celestia rolled her eyes. "And do we have to have another talk about being informal, Miss Berrytwist?"

On the far side of the Solar Princess, Tempest could hear a playful giggle. She bit her lip. "No, m'am. Message received. ...Again."

"Good." Celestia nudged the Prioress with her wing. "And please don't be too amused. Tempest has done a great many things given her difficult path through life. While I may give her a little bit of a hard time, she has long since earned respect."

"Oh! Respect and more," Reliquary confirmed with a nod. "I think much the same about her - enough of my ponies owe her their lives that I'd never really do something to hurt her."

They walked leisurely through the statue garden, passing by the empty plinth that once had held Discord. A little claw-drawn sign hung on it declaring OUT TO LUNCH: BACK IN ∞. The remainder of the plinths still held their occupants - works of fine art from across centuries, sculpted by the greatest artists in Equestria. Celestia barely noticed them as they walked past, long inured to the beauty.

"No, I suspect you would not." Celestia turned her head towards Tempest. "This past week has been rather full of that news, in fact. As the task of dealing with the fallout from Cozy Glow to has been left to Twilight and her friends, I've been taking personal interest in the adventure Starswirl and yourself had. It's been very enlightening."

Tempest swallowed, unsure of how to read that. "Enlightening?"

The Solar Princess nodded. "Mmhmm. The story of the House itself is fascinating - and I've already contacted Miss Yearling about it - but what I asked most about was your own role. Those I saw all spoke highly of your actions during the crisis, as well as your demeanor before. Some..." A little more of a smile cracked across her lips. "Minor issues with temper aside, you did Equestria proud."

Tempest bowed her head again. "You once again flatter and spoil me."

A click of the tongue, and Celestia gave Tempest a light shove with her wing. "I give you your due, Tempest. Your refusal to accept your heroism is almost as bad as that of the Elements. And the Pillars, now that I think of it, were quite bad about it for some time." She shook her head. "But to my point: I have spent the last few days learning quite a lot about this most unexpected situation. It really is fascinating what happened to your ancestors, Prioress."

The mare demurely looked away. "Please, your Highness. Reliquary is fine. And prioress is perhaps not so accurate anymore."

From the other side of the massive alicorn, Tempest raised her eyebrows and her voice. "You've handed over the reins?"

Reliquary nodded. "The time is right. Script's been ready for a while, and when better to have a fresh start? With Bit at his side and Scribble at his back, the House should be just fine."

"And it will be," added the Princess. "I've already tasked an emergency weather team to the area to start work on the region's snow. It's going to take time to melt it all without causing a flood, but the manager in charge of the team is confident that the valley should be clear by mid-summer and we can begin construction of a railway branch through the area."

They turned, following the path of statues towards the start of the hedge maze. "Until then I've dispatched a contingent from the Royal Engineers to help with rebuilding the damaged parts of the town, as well as a group of earth pony agriculturalists to bolster the food supply." Celestia paused briefly, considering her words. "I still expect to send several supply convoys to help them over the coming months, but in time things will calm again."

Reliquary nodded, face bright despite the hardships that the Princess' words implied. "And the valley will be well cared for in the future, I'm sure. Even with everything else that's happened, I've already had a few business ponies approach Script or I to ask about the situation. An entirely new town full of ponies has gotten attention."

"It has." The Princess turned them again, directing their journey towards a familiar seeming dead-end along the garden path. "The mountains themselves have garnered interest as well - the slopes of Balius and Xanthos have been nearly untouched by hoof or claw. And we are fortunate enough to already have newly hired a representative familiar with the area to coordinate the mining surveys." Celestia's eyes glittered with mischief. "Your Abyssinian friend was hilarious, by the way. The snow disappearing confused him enough, then when I arrived at his doorstep..." Un-Princessy giggles broke out from the alicorn. "He thought I was there to arrest him! Instead I made him unexpectedly rich."

Tempest's eyes rolled at the Princess' filly-like cheer. As they approached the hidden arch at the end of the path, she lit her horn and reached out. Sparks flew as she grit her teeth, electric blue magic grabbing hold of the ivy. Both sizzled - but the ivy lifted slightly. The others both waited patiently until Tempest finally gave up with a gasp of exhaustion and released her telekinetic grip.

Then Reliquary easily lifted the ivy aside while Celestia extinguished the small fires that the sparks had started - both without words or judgement.

Inside the hidden nook was a bit different than the last time - Starswirl was once more present, but this time his easel and paints were gone. Instead he was putting the last touches on a quiet lunch of cucumber sandwiches and tea. At the trio's appearance, the old sage gave a respectful bow. "Princess. Prioress. Commander."

General pleasantries took a moment - the most notable being Reliquary giving Starswirl a little peck on the cheek, much to his embarrassment and Celestia's amusement - before they all sat down to lunch. Princess Celestia was quick to resume the prior conversation, however, waiting only for Starswirl to fill her cup. "So as I was saying: by autumn, the valley and its inhabitants should be fully recovered and brought into Equestria as a whole. Between the untapped resources and a fresh population of hearty ponies, I suspect that there will be quite a boom."

"To say nothing of the scholars who will be traveling there," Starswirl noted. "I've taken the liberty of giving some notes on the situation to one of Canterlot University's historians. She was packing before I was halfway through telling her the story." He chuckled before taking another bite of his sandwich. "Once word filters out, that old library will be clogged with knowledge-seekers."

Laughing merrily, Reliquary shook her head. "Which will drive poor Script mad because not a one of them will reshelve their books properly."

They all got a smile out of that - and Tempest eased into one of the questions on her mind. "So Reliquary. If you're letting Script take leadership of the House, what are you going to do?"

For a moment there was a hesitation - a glance between her and Starswirl. He gave a nod to her, small enough to not jostle his bells. Reliquary Heart relaxed a little and gave her response. "At least for a little while, I'm going to stay here in Canterlot as the House's representative at court. Script needs to focus on rebuilding, so my being here can help coordinate the aid and the scholars and the miners. Once that's taken care of, however?" She reached out, putting her hoof on Starswirl's. "I've been given quite the offer to get a taste of being an adventurer. Starswirl wants to do a bit more research to prepare, but he has a place in mind for us to go."

In spite of the urge to make a face at the idea of Starswirl The Really Ancient dating, Tempest still managed a smile. "I'm happy for you both. Really. And I hope that whatever adventure you're going to go on that you find the experience you're looking for, Reliquary."

Across the table, Princess Celestia pursed her lips and held back smug laughter.

Starswirl leaned forward - he didn't bother to try and not be smug. "Actually, Commander, I think you may be interested in joining us."

Tempest didn't hold back from making a face this time, sticking out her tongue in (mostly) mock disgust. "Eugh. Okay, look. I'm happy for you two but I am very not interested. After everything that's happened I'll admit you're a pretty decent traveling companion, Starswirl, but there are so many ways that you're not my type the Princess doesn't have enough time to hear me say it all."

Celestia joined them in not holding back, breaking out into loud, outrageous laughter.

Both Starswirl and Reliquary Heart blushed, though for different reasons - his was far more irate than hers. But even with an edge of frustration in his voice, Starswirl tried to continue. "That's not even slightly what I meant, Miss Shadow, and you know it."

Lighting his horn, he lifted a book up to the table - an ages-old book, bound in simple brown and with the title Studies In Non-Unicorn Magic embossed on the cover. "This was one of the books we found in the House's library. It was done by an old colleague of mine, Golden Rays. He was one of the unicorns who worked beside myself to raise and lower the sun - and he was one of those who paid the price. Like you, Miss Shadow, he lost his magic almost entirely due to an injury that lost him much of his horn. And in turn, he dedicated his life in a search to find a way to repair the damage." Tapping his hoof on the book, Starswirl pulled attention to it. "His search took him beyond Equestria's borders. And while he never found the final answer, he did provide some key clues for our own search."

Now Tempest was leaning forward, locked on the sorcerer with rapt attention and eager ears.

"Once we returned to Canterlot, I was able to access a thousand years' extra knowledge and fill in many of the gaps that Golden Rays had in his research." Starswirl flipped open the book, leafing through it. "He felt that the solution lay with other races and tribes that used magic through horns and horn-like body parts. From the kirin to changelings to the semi-mythical gift-giving reindeer, Equestria has gained quite a lot of knowledge in that area." A few more pages - and then Starswirl closed the book again. "And between his work and this age's greater knowledge, I believe I've found something that should be very, very interesting to you."

Tempest shifted further forward, coming to the edge of her seat.

A playful smirk danced across Starswirl's lips and his eyes glittered with smug satisfaction. "For example, Miss Shadow. Did you know that every year, the deer shed and regrow their antlers?"

Horse Of The Rising Sun

Stay Tuned Until Next Time

Starswirl the Bearded, Reliquary Heart and Tempest Shadow Will Return In:

A Bridge Over Troubled Waters*