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.