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.