//------------------------------//
// 12 - Barnabite 
// Story: Horse Of The Rising Sun 
// by TCC56 
//------------------------------//

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."