"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."