After a long and relaxing communal soak in the tub, punctuated by fleeting thoughts of relief followed by sheer panic as the latest knock at the door turns out to once again not be Doug, the ponies march down the hallway to the auditorium. Their coats and manes shine with a bright luster, a sharp contrast to the nervous glances reflecting off gleaming regalia.

Applejack, her freshly polished Stenson leading the charge, pushes open the double doors of the main entrance. Her frown deepens as she scans inside.

Merely empty seats, no sign of their stallion.

“He ain’t here,” she calls to the rest of the ponies following her. They trade worried looks, the situation made all the more disconcerting because the Storm King never followed up on his negotiation, either.

“I’m sure everything is just fine,” Twilight calmly states as she brushes past Applejack, trotting to their front and center seats. She ignores the groans with a seasoned flick of her ears, though an unexpected voice and the rustle of paper stops her in her tracks.

“No… no… that won’t work…”

There, armored back against the wall, loose parchment scattered around him, sits the Storm King. Yet instead of being wreathed in terrible glory he seems consumed by confusion as he puzzles out some perplexing predicament. He scratches out a line before scratching at his head, barely sparing even a glance at the ponies streaming inside.

Twilight’s ears swivel before her head turns, her eyes tracing over the musing monarch before resting on the crumpled pages. She frowns as she recognizes the hornwriting on one, trotting over to take a closer look. “Hey!”

Raikou’s eyes flick up to the irate alicorn, his frown quickly suppressed. “Yeah?”

Twilight points a hoof. “You took my notes!”

Raikou returns to studying his paper. “So?”

“Well,” Twilight says, scowling as she smooths out the closest of the papers. “What if I wrote something private?”

The Storm King’s head snaps back, startled. “You would write something that isn’t meant to be read?” His face scrunches up,

“You have no idea,” Celestia ribs. She winks as Twilight gapes at her. “You would not believe the uproar it caused when she wrote about her first sleepover with Applejack and Rarity, to say nothing of her first night with Doug.”

“Prin-... Your Hi…” Twilight stammers as she tries to pick the right appellation to call out her herdmate. “Celestia!”

“Aww, my little sister best friend forever, all grown up,” Shining Armor says wistfully, flicking an imaginary tear from his eye. “Dam enjoyed it, especially Night Light’s rendition. Or so I heard.”

“Hey!” Twilight sputters, rounding on her brother. “Why would you know that, much less think I wanted to know that?”

“You know, I remember that one,” Raikou says to Celestia, tapping a finger against his chin and looking at the ceiling, ignoring the hyperventilating alicorn simultaneously attempting to hide her shame while maintaining righteous indignation. “His endurance really that good?”

After a moment, the other ponies trading awkward looks, Celestia responds when Twilight doesn’t. “It has only improved with time.” She raises a wing, inviting the younger alicorn to her side. Twilight accepts, tail tucking between her legs. “Come, Twilight. It is an important part of being a mare. There is no shame in fascination and experimentation in such matters.” She smiles, nuzzling the mass of purple mane buried in her chest, one eye regarding Raikou carefully. “After all, I am sure he hopes that Noon will inherit a bit of that endurance.”

Raikou claps, smirking at Celestia. “A devious trap, there, for all it is sugar-coated.” Off to the side, Pinkie Pie rubs her belly and grins, pulling out a cupcake and devouring it. “Will there come a time when you no longer test me?”

“I am afraid that time may never come,” Celestia says sagely, a slight smirk crossing her muzzle. “For life itself will test the full extent of our abilities, and ultimately find us wanting.”

“Then,” Raikou says, pondering, “you believe us to be defined by our enemies?”

“Our trials and adversaries,” Celestia responds with a nod. “They need not be enemies.”

Raikou grins. “Then I shall strive to be as powerful an adversary as I can be.” He stands, offering a short bow that Celestia returns with a flourish of her wings, ducking low to the ground. “But to answer your previous question? I hope, for her sake, that she is satisfied.”

Celestia offers another nod as she smiles, seemingly satisfied, and trots to her seat.

Luna pulls up to her side with a sour grimace. “Thou art still willing to consign thy filly to him?” He glances back at the studious King, Twilight apparently content to leave her papers with him in a neat stack.

“We shall see how he proceeds,” Celestia returns, only a tinge of acid in her voice. Luna grunts, settling next to her as the rest of the mares take their seats.

Garble is the first of the other delegates to return, carrying a brown sack bigger than he is over one shoulder. He gnaws at a massive brown wing, much bigger than a griffon’s, savoring the burnt-flesh flavor that wafts to the ponies. They sniff once before their pupils shrink, skittering close to each other, while Chrysalis and Spike raise their noses with considerable interest. The two pout as Celestia’s horn flares, a visible bubble pushing away from the ponies and clearing the air.

“Aww,” Spike moans as watches, forlorn at the sight of fried fowl.

“Want some?” Garble calls, hoisting up the sac. “I’ve got more!”

“You know,” Spike says with a glance at Twilight for permission. He puts on his most persuasive face, a mix of knowledgeable and helpful with a hint of puppy-dog eyes. “To remain in health, one must cauterize flesh.”

The alicorn returns the slightest of nods. “You’re your own dragon,” Twilight says with a note of regret. She smiles, fond memories of Spike coming to the surface. “You don’t need me reminding you of Future Spike’s problems. It’ll be up to you.”

“Awesome!” Spike takes wing, flying over to Garble. “What is it?”

“It’s a fledgling roc.” The red dragon rummages around in the sac, ripping off a leg and holding it in the air. He breathes a long gout of flame before anything can drip off, searing the edges to a delectable char. “You ever get the feeling that you just have to go out there and kill something with your bare claws?”

“N-no,” Spike says, staring at the meat in his claws and gulping.

“Oh. Well, give it time.” Garble shrugs nonchalantly. “Free tip; way easier to go after babies than grownups.”

“You would do that?” Rarity asks, askance. She can barely watch as Spike takes a tentative bite, then devours the meat straight off the bone with a predatory grin.

“Of course,” Garble says before he demonstrates how to chew straight through the bone. “Why would we let an infestation like that get worse? Better to nip it in the bud.” He points at Celestia. “Kinda like we’re doing here.”

“Yes, well,” Rarity retorts indignantly. “I’ll think you’ll find this bud considerably harder to nip.”

Garble shrugs, going back to devouring ever-increasing chunks of bird from his sack. As other delegates arrive he shares pieces with them, grudgingly with Gruff and more freely with Ember. Iron Grip takes a piece to be polite, the goats at his side each grabbing a larger scrap. Prince Rutherford gives the sack a single disdainful glance before stomping off to his seat. The minor delegates are in full force; the Abyssinians find themselves attracted to the smell while the ponies of the Realm of Clouds and Sky Beak stay as far away as they can.

Doug enters last, opening the door for Rainbow Dash, Grubber, and Kay Ay. The hippogriff peels off to stand at the Storm King’s side, Sky Beak staring at him through squinting eyes. The ponies breathe sighs of relief, though it turns to a bit of confusion at the sight of Doug’s shoulder. The short hedgehog, palette in claw, takes the opportunity to unceremoniously walk up to each of their flanks and make sure he has his colors right.

“What in the?” Applejack asks for all of them. They stare, open-mouthed, at the colorful sight.

“Pretty awesome, right?” Rainbow Dash claims, beaming without a trace of sarcasm. She holds her flank next to his shoulder; they are the same size, the top of the cloud next to his neck while the lightning bolt arcs down his arm, the tip at his elbow. “I’d say he’s at least twenty percent cooler.”

“Just wait until they’re all there,” Doug says, trying to keep an upbeat attitude with the slack stares the ponies are giving him. He ruffles Applejack’s mane, the closest pony to him, then pauses when she doesn’t really respond. “Did I miss something?”

“Apparently Ah missed somethin’,” Applejack returns, curling her head to keep inspecting the cutie mark on his shoulder. “It ain’t real, is it?”

“Not this time,” Doug says with a cheerful chuckle and glance at Twilight. He moves to Rarity next, rubbing at her back while she takes a closer look. She traces a hoof over the light marks of the rest of their cutie marks spread over his body. “I’d hate for another alicorn to get her wings and horn fixing this.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Twilight says with a roll of her eyes.

“I know,” Doug says, pulling away from Rarity to give Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie a close hug. He winces as he flexes his right arm. The two mares nuzzle him, each finding where their own mark will go. “Raikou thought it would be a sign of camaraderie, something they do in the Storm Realm.”

“We’d never ask ya to do this,” Applejack states carefully.

“I get that.” Doug slips next to Celestia and Luna, Twilight scooching in front. “But it’s a choice I made.” He looks back at the Storm King, still sitting against the wall. “We’re still doing that, right?”

“We haven’t come to a formal agreement,” Twilight confides, her ears flattening. “But, Doug. You’re a Prince of Equestria now. Other ponies are going to see something you did and emulate it. Did you think of that?”

“Um,” Doug says, trailing off. “Not really.” He chuckles to himself, scratching at her mane. She tries to shake him off, not willing to lose a discussion to his fingers instead of his arguments. “I’d like to slink off and go sit in the shadows when all this is over, anyway.”

“Speaking of all this being over,” Rainbow Dash says forebodingly as Alira and Tempest Shadow take the stage. The Saddle Arabian looks over the groups, counting to herself, before heading to the podium. The ponies can’t help but notice how the other creatures have formed a loose ring around them, leaning forward in their seats.

The broken-horned unicorn stands at the front of the stage, clad in full battlegear. Her smirk widens as she watches the ponies crowd around their stallion, a baleful look that leaves little to the imagination. She clears her throat, silencing the auditorium.

“Now,” Tempest Shadow begins, her single paces echoing ominously. The clanks of steel against wood make it difficult to breathe, a rattling that sets their hairs on edge. “You have stalled long enough. Will you submit your magic to the Staff?”

“-Uh,” the Storm King calls from the back of the room, bringing all attention to himself as he stands. “Slight problem there, Temp.”

Eyes narrow as sparks fly from the broken horn. She growls, “Where is the Staff of Sacanas?”

The Storm King shrugs. “It broke.”

The entirety of the roc could be ground to dust by Tempest’s teeth. “...It broke.”

“Well. I broke it.” Raikou grins as he saunters to the center stage. “Also, we’re allied with the Equestrians now.”

“What?” Tempest Shadow bellows as shouts erupt from the other creatures, turning the auditorium into a deafening chamber. They all know what this would mean to their invasion plans. “How… how could you betray me like this?!”

“Betray?” Raikou laughs as the shouts die down, shaking his head. “No, no. You’ve got it all wrong.” He strides to the scowling unicorn, ignoring the sparks pouring from her horn. “You know how you wanted me to invade Equestria and trap the four alicorns’ power inside the Staff of Sacanas? And that I could use this power to heal your broken horn?”

“It was her idea?” Twilight Sparkle gasps, her mind blown at the thought of a fellow pony turning against them like that. Her fellow rulers share the sentiment, exchanging unsure glances and whispers.

Tempest Shadow backs up a step as the Storm King advances, towering above her. She casts a furtive glance at the dragons, the yaks, even the griffons. Yet all remain in their seats, staring, unwilling to be the first to charge the alicorns. Yet their defenses lay in shambles, astonished at his accusation.

“It’s okay,” the Storm King reassures, flashing Tempest Shadow a thumbs up. He grins as she walks up to him, hesitantly. “Because I’ve got something better.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 50 - Transcendent Flesh, Part Five Estimated time remaining: 23 Hours, 59 Minutes