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.