The Storm King stands, towering over Tempest Shadow, one long arm pointing directly at Doug. Or, more likely, the three alicorns surrounding him. He beams, comically, like a Power Ponies villain about to unveil her master plan, except hopefully it will be beneficial for the ponies instead of requiring a long and drawn out fight.

The shouts slowly die down, nocreature willing to be the first to charge the stupefied ponies. Their vitriol lacks the momentum from before the Staff broke, afraid of rousing the alicorns from their recovery and rushing into a hasty shield or worse. But this does not stop them from scowling, pounding fists and talons into each other as they malign their missed opportunity.

Tempest Shadow eyes the four obsidian orbs dangling at the Storm King’s belt, carelessly left under his raised arm. She can see the scenario playing out in her mind: how she might go in for the hug, or whatever saccharine Equestrian ritual he is playing out for their benefit. Then, with a quick flick and practiced kick, launch those orbs at the cluster of three alicorns and the isolated Cadance. It would be over in an instant, their vaunted powers useless against the electrifying countermagic of the orb, thus leaving the Equestrian leadership cut off at the head. Then it would be a simple matter of coordinating the occupying forces as the Realm of Clouds and whatever ponies they conscript from Equestria take over the sun and moon.

It was the plan she should have gone with from the start, rather than trust the rapacious Council or her capricious liege. Never again. She thought the alicorns would acquiesce, relinquish their powers to keep their ponies safe. Yet now, with the Staff shattered, for all that would accomplish the goals of their original plan, it would still leave her bereft of horn, and the Equestrians no better.

“I…” she forces out, her mouth as dry as the desert outside. She musters a wry smile at Celestia. The ancient alicorn returns a calculating gaze, seeming to peer into the depths of her soul, less affected by the revelation than her fellow rulers. She discards her assault plan as she steps to the edge of the stage, standing imperiously and demanding, “Can you fix it?”

Celestia’s raised eyebrow rivals Applejack’s in sheer incredulity. “You really expect me to repair the instrument of our entrapment?”

“No, no, no!” Raikou blusters, chuckling as he leaps forward and shoves Tempest back a foot. He pauses, cocking his head at Celestia. “Wait, could you?”

Celestia glances at the other creatures. They watch with bated breath as if wondering whether she might be persuaded, through some fashion, of returning to their earlier gambit. “I could,” she replies slowly, a wing stretching out to rub at her belly. “But I’m afraid it would be at least ten months before I made the attempt. I would hate to strain myself.”

“You mean you’re not all powerful?” Raikou waves his hand as Celestia opens her mouth. “But, seriously. I’ve been thinking.” He turns to Tempest Shadow, grinning. “Dangerous, I know. But you wanted the power of the four alicorns to repair your horn.” He stretches his arm out again, beaming even wider. “Well, here they are! Allied and willing to help! How’s that for your, what’cha call’ems, tenets?”

Rarity snorts. “When we speak of Generosity, ‘volunteering’ somepony else’s services doesn’t qualify.”

The Storm King’s face falls. He glances between Rarity and Celestia, his hands scrunching into balls as one eye twitches. “You’re better than this,” he mutters to himself, his voice low but no less berating.

“Um,” Fluttershy says with a small, almost hopeful smile. “At least he’s trying?”

“You realize,” Tempest Shadow snarls at the Storm King, “that I come from Equestria?” Her venomous glare aims directly at Celestia, the sparks pouring from her horn illuminating her bared teeth. “And if she could have healed a filly and didn’t?” She stamps a hoof against the stage, sending the dying embers back into the air. “I would take his staff as a replacement horn before bowing to you.”

The mental image sickens the other ponies. Celestia merely holds Tempest’s gaze for a second before closing her eyes and lowering her head. “When I heard about your injury,” she starts, voice shaking, “I saw a young filly, surrounded by her friends. Maimed, yes, but unwilling to let trauma define her.”

“You saw my situation,” Tempest Shadow spits out, “and did nothing?!”

“Yes.” Celestia takes a deep, mournful breath. She can hardly miss Tempest’s scowl. “Your injury… it was miraculous you survived at all, with your magical core mangled from the astral ursa’s blow. Others have died from an otherwise glancing blow despite our best efforts, unable to heal the rift before expiring from loss of magic.”

“Wait, seriously?” Rainbow Dash exclaims, reevaluating how costly her efforts to save Trixie could have been and deciding the unicorn owes her big time.

Celestia nods to Rainbow Dash. “Our knowledge and ability to treat these injuries has improved over time, but is still lacking.” She turns back to Tempest Shadow. “But with the scarring of your core?” Celestia shakes her head, a heavy sigh escaping her muzzle. “It was not a clean blow, a careful slice intended to be sutured together, but grievous lacerations. I may have done more, but it would have risked your life. My best estimates put the chance of survival at twenty percent, and the odds of having your magic restored even less. Your parents and I ultimately decided against it.” She glances at Tempest Shadow. “It must hurt when the sparks come out.”

Tempest Shadow grits her teeth. “Every time.”

“And look at what you’ve managed to accomplish!” Twilight stands, indicating the irate unicorn. She beams, hoping to brighten the broken-horned unicorn’s contentance. “Despite losing your horn, you’ve done so much!”

“And how many didn’t?” Tempest roars, frightening the ponies with her ardor. “How many ponies’ lives have been ruined, losing their friends because they couldn’t connect, or were cast off clouds because they couldn’t fly? You think I’m defined by my trials?” She raps a hoof against her head. “Does that mean I would be less of a pony if I had more of a horn?”

Celestia bows her head, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

“Spare me your platitudes,” Tempest snaps, “about how helping solve our problems makes us weak and unprepared for the next one. I’ve heard it before. You have the power to help, and you refuse. That makes you the monster, and your power should go to somepony who would.”

“I am sorry,” Celestia whispers, “but I am unable to give you what you want.”

Tempest Shadow growls, then catches herself. “Wait. You said ‘I’.” She leaps off the stage, Twilight stepping aside as she heads straight for Celestia, sparks streaming from her horn the entire way. Tempest jabs a hoof into the white alicorn’s chest. “You know of somepony, or somecreature, that does.”

“Please,” Celestia begs, ignoring the blinding glare. “Do not go down that path. There lies only ruin.”

Tempest’s muzzle curls higher, her teeth baring.

“I mean,” Twilight muses off to the side, Tempest’s gaze swinging to her. “To restore a magical wound like that? You’re looking at the height of Greed magic. Plus Loyalty, or maybe Betrayal, to infuse it. Enough to practically animate a dead body.”

Tempest Shadow stands there, staring at nothing, the gears in her head visibly turning.

“You know, like a come to life spell? But those mostly work on objects.” Twilight ponders for a moment, oblivious to the hooves meeting faces around her. “Other ways to go at it? I constructed a magical core with Starlight Glimmer, but that was temporary. Chaos magic might be able to swing it, but unless her fillies get a good enough grasp on it?” She jabs a hoof at Pinkie Pie. “You’re looking at some serious dark magic. And even if we could get it to work, there’s no telling how long it would last, and you’d likely suffer an unrecoverable blowout if you pushed yourself.”

Tempest Shadow regards Celestia for a long moment, her disappointment palpable. “Then nothing will change.” With a few laborious movements she unsnaps her barding, letting the black metal clatter to the floor. She smooths off the matted fur around her cutie mark of twin colorful explosions before she marches off, never looking back.

“No!” Twilight calls. “I-”

The door slams behind the unicorn.

Twilight hangs her head. “I’m sure we could have helped.”

“Any’a y’all,” Applejack says to the others, gaping along with them, “get the feelin’ that we should’a stopped her, and nipped this in the bud?”

“Riveting as the story of her youth is,” Gruff belts out, waving a talon through the air, “this leaves us no safer than before.” He points at the Storm King. “Less so with him at your side. You leave us little choice!”

“We do not wish for you to leave these halls dissatisfied,” Celestia entreats, a confident yet acquiescent bow of her head.

“The way Iron Grip sees it?” the minotaur booms. “You force us to assume this risk! Like… um, a money-back guarantee?” He glances at one of the goats at his side.

The goat bleats once.

“Yes! Insurance!” Iron Grip nods furiously. “We take on the small chance of a devastating disaster. And what do we get in return?”

Garble takes wing, flickers of flame glowing in the back of his mouth. “And don’t talk of better trade deals or paltry tokens! We know what your plans are for Equestria! You think you can grow bigger than dragons?!”

“That isn’t our intention,” Twilight starts apologetically.

Chrysalis steps in before the Princess of Friendship can continue. “You pathetic foals,” she admonishes, her ever-present malevolent smirk directed at Garble and the other creatures. “You squabble for slices, afraid a growing Equestria will crowd you out of your fair share of the pie. But what you imbeciles are incapable of grasping?” She grins her fangy grin, none of the others happy to suffer her words as an ebony hoof raps against the side of her bulging barrel. “The solution is to bake more pies.”

The Chief Architect strides forward to the discarded barding. She kicks one piece at Gruff, another at Garble. “So be content with your scraps, whatever you can glean from our shoes. Or?” She levitates the remaining armor, ripping the bottom apart to accommodate her larger bulk. A flash of magic colors it a gleaming gold as she drapes it over her withers. “You can join the winning side. The growing side. The Equestrian side.”

She returns to a spot halfway between Doug and Shining Armor, standing at Twilight’s side.

“Wow,” the lavender alicorn says with an impressed smile. “I didn’t know Friendship was so strong in you!”

“It comes and goes,” the changeling says nonchalantly. “But the real key?” “She turns and winks at Doug. “Have a plan to seduce anyone you meet. They will take changelings of their own, increasing my power and influence across the land!” She waits a beat. “Oh, and it will spread Friendship as well. Of course.”

“Of course,” Twilight echoes with a roll of her eyes.

“What pony propose?” Prince Rutherford belts out with a stomp of his hoof. “Threat to Yak culture! Yak not stand for threat to Yak culture, because future with no Yak no future at all!”

“Yeah!” Ember sneers, claws at her hips. “You think you can just swoop in and make our lives better just like that?” She snaps her claws. “Dragons don’t need a pony savior!”

“Just some pillows,” Garble adds under his breath.

“Just some pillows!” Ember continues loudly.

“You’re worried,” Doug says diplomatically, standing between Celestia and Luna. “You’re worried about your culture, about whether life will stay the same or grow so unrecognizable you might as well be in another world. It’s daunting, and no one wants to dive straight in.” He quickly adds, seeing a few mouths open to retort, “Not because you’re scared! Every one of you could live and thrive under these conditions, I’m sure. But because you aren’t sure what you would leave behind. There has to be something worthwhile there, or you wouldn’t have survived as long as you have.”

“So, what do you propose?” Ember asks, curious more than anything else.

“Take it slow.” Doug motions to himself, smirking at his nakedness. “I came here exactly as you see me now, except a little less built.” He flexes, then rubs at Celestia’s head with one hand, Luna with the other. “And with a lot less support. But you don’t have to go for the full immersion. What I would do?”

He pauses as if considering.

“I would send a representative.” Doug nods firmly. “They would be students, at first. Their mission would be to learn the ways of Friendship. To figure out how to integrate the Tenets of Harmony-” With each word he walks to the Bearer of that Element, rubbing between their ears with a fond smile. “-Honesty, Generosity, Loyalty, Kindness, Laughter, and Friendship, with that of your own culture. Each of them as important as the other. And once they have achieved sufficient mastery of the material? They could return home, taking on students of their own, finding out what works and what doesn’t work for each of you. The end goal, of course, to grow together in Friendship and Harmony.”

Stunned silence meets the end of Doug’s speech.

Alira hesitantly speaks, “Would ponies need this instruction as well?”

“I don’t see why not,” Doug says with a shrug. “We could take students from all over Equestria.” He eyes the ponies from the Realm of Clouds. “And beyond.”

“Speaking of beyond,” Raikou says with an apologetic shake of his head. “I’ve never thought of myself as much of a baker. But I did think of one thing I can contribute.” He waves at his Lieutenant Commander, the armored yellow hippogriff marching from the edge of the auditorium. “And Sky Beak, can you come down?” He grins as the blue hippogriff hesitates. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Sky Beak growls, but approaches. His face scrunches up as he studies the other hippogriff in service to the Storm King.

“Sky Beak,” Raikou says, motioning to the other hippogriff. “This is Lieutenant Commander Kay Ay. But I think you know him as something else.”

Sky Beak stares, the revelation slowly dawning on him. He can barely force the words out, at first not believing it to be true. “King Aponis? You’re alive?”

King Aponis of the Hippogriffs nods with a regal air, his sigh heavy. “It is I, Sky Beak. In fin and feather.” He grimaces at the lines etched in his kin’s face. “The waves have not been kind to you.”

“They have not been kind to any of us,” Sky Beak admits, turning his head as he fingers at the shard hidden under his wing. “Except, perhaps, for Ocean Flow.”

King Aponis chuckles. “I suppose your wife has always taken to the seas. And… has mine?”

“Queen Novo never recovered,” Sky Beak admits with great reluctance. He glares at the Storm King. “She dreads returning to the surface, for good reason.”

“Aww, why the dry face?” Raikou grins wide, clapping both hippogriffs on the back. “This is a cause for celebration!”

“Party time!” Pinkie Pie shouts, an explosion of confetti coming from nowhere. “Woo!”

“Because I also got you this.” The Storm King holds out a scroll.

Sky Beak takes it, holding it away from him like a rotten fish. “What is this?”

“It’s a treaty! Or nonaggression pact.” Raikou shrugs. “However close you want to be.”

“We would be a protectorate of the Storm Realm,” Sky Beak spits out as he starts reading.

“Yeah, but that’s the same status we’d give Equestria.” Raikou winks at Celestia, who returns a stone-faced glare. “Basically, I’ll stay out of your waves. You guys retain full sovereignty, do whatever you want as long as it’s not against any other member state. There’s a two percent tax, same as everywhere else.” Raikou taps at the scroll as Sky Beak unravels it to the end. “And, to ease the transition back to Mount Aris, I’m offering one warship of your choice. Captained by your very own King Aponis, filled to the brim with whatever supplies you need along with a full complement of crew who will serve for two years.”

The Storm King thrusts a hand forward, grinning. “So, what do you say?”

Sky Beak stares at the treaty in his claws. There, at the bottom, is King Aponis’ signature and the Storm King’s. All it would need is his own. The thought of returning to life above the waves pulls at him, his very core.

“I… I should talk to Queen Novo,” Sky Beak states. His arm trembles despite his attempt to keep his composure.

“Sorry, pal,” Raikou says with only a hint of apology. “Limited time offer. You ain’t gonna get a better deal than this.”

Sky Beak’s claws twitch. All they would need to do is pay lip service to the Storm King’s authority and they would be free? He hopes his Queen will concur. He takes the quill from the raspberry aura, twiddling it. “What happens to the warship when the time is done?”

“That? It’s yours.” The Storm King grins like a cat watching a mouse sneak closer. “The crew can train up their replacements, if you don’t want to hire them on. All the supplies paid out of my pocket.” He chuckles. “But you only get the one load free.”

Sky Beak considers for a moment before signing the scroll with a flourish.

“Aww,” Pinkie Pie moans when nothing else happens. “It’s supposed to turn gold and shrink you into a little eel!” She pouts as she returns, thumping her head into Doug’s side.

“How much is that warship worth?” Doug whispers to Celestia, the other ponies drawing close.

“Perhaps five million bits, depending on which ship he chooses,” Celestia answers.

Applejack whistles appreciably. “Whou-whee. How’s that for Generosity?”

“He is purchasing a substantial amount of goodwill,” Rarity responds, also in awe.

Rainbow Dash adds, “And he doesn’t need to pay for the upkeep of what is going to be a glorified cargo ship,”

“Or the crew,” Fluttershy concurs.

“And if this gets him that precious little alicorn baby he wants so badly?” Pinkie Pie grins as she pokes Celestia’s belly before snuggling up next to it. “Who’s a good little hedgehog cuddler? Yes you are! Yes you are!”

“Princess Twilight,” Sky Beak interrupts. He steps forward, regarding Chrysalis thoughtfully. Twilight turns to greet him. “If this is just one example of the effects of Friendship? Then I propose sending my daughter, Silverstream, to be your first student.”

“We will be glad to accept her,” Twilight returns regally, offering a short bow. Sky Beak bows back, trotting off to converse with Aponis.

Garble is the next to approach, Ember at his side. “So, I guess we should send a dragon to learn about this whole…” He gags, coughing out a cloud of black smoke. It dissipates as it gets close to Celestia. “Friendship business.”

“A dragon will be an excellent addition to our school,” Twilight says, beaming. She glances at Ember.

“Oh, no, not me,” Ember says resolutely, shaking her head and her claws.

“Yeah, you’ll be busy in the Crystal Empire,” Garble says with a smirk. He grabs at his leg as Ember kicks him in the shin. “Hey! Watch it, punk!” He turns back to Twilight. “I was gonna send my sis. Smolder.”

Twilight grins, grabbing a piece of parchment and marking the names down. “You think she’ll be a good fit?”

Garble shrugs. “Eh. Better than any of the other dragons I know. But, whatever you do, don’t give her any pillows.”

“...Because she needs to stay tough?” Twilight guesses.

Garble shakes his head. “She hoards them. You know the story about how Dragon Lord Scales came to power?”

“Um,” Twilight says, unsure. She doesn’t recognize the name. She glances at Celestia, getting nothing in return. “No?”

“Oh.” Garble shrugs. “Well, best advice? Don’t show weakness around her. You can be ‘sensitive’,” he makes air quotes while retching. “But not weak.”

“Got it. Thank you for the tip.” Twilight grins as Garble walks off. She turns to Chrysalis. “Think you’ll enroll any changelings?”

“Mm,” Chrysalis considers. “No. My brood is learning Friendship well enough first-hoof.”

“That’s fine,” Twilight says, her grin only dropping a little. “Just wanted to ask.“

Chrysalis grunts as Prince Rutherford and Gruff stomp and fly over, respectively.

“Do you have somecreature picked out?” Twilight asks with a hopeful smile.

“I do,” Gruff snarls, but it might just be his beak. “If you can teach Friendship to the greediest, gauchest, most griffon-est griffon in all of Griffonstone?”

“I’m sure we can!” Twilight adds a quick nod and larger smile. “Who do you have in mind?”

“Gallus,” Gruff spits out, as if the name is enough.

“Ookay,” Twilight says, scratching the name down. She beams at the yak. “Prince Rutherford?” She bows low. “It has been many, many years since Equestria has been host to a yak. I sincerely hope you will give us the honor and privilege of continuing the education of one of your finest.”

“Hmm,” Prince Rutherford rumbles, considering Twilight with a cold, calculating gaze. He snorts, shaking the long braids of his hair. “Yak not see need to take pony tradition. But if Yak tradition stay Yak tradition? Then perhaps pony take Yak tradition!” He nods firmly, the matter decided. “Prince have good candidate. Just learned to braid Yak hair! Young, but not too young. Name Yona.” He nods, then turns around, leaving the Storm King standing there.

“Do…” Twilight says, looking up at the tall creature. “Did you want to learn about Friendship with us?”

“Me?” Raikou laughs, shaking his head. “Nah. Someone needs to make sure everyone behaves down here. How about him? He’s spineless enough, he’ll do whatever you say.”

Twilight follows the long arm. She frowns at the short, simpering hedgehog. “Grubber?”

“You called?” Grubber waddles over, munching on a cupcake.

Twilight’s face scrunches up. “Do you want to learn about Friendship?”

“Long ath you have cupcaketh,” Grubber says with a shrug, swallowing his current one whole.

Twilight’s smile begins twitching. “You guys! I’m going to be a teacher! Of Friendship!”

“Yeah!” Applejack chuckles, shaking her head. “Ain’t that a beaut’?”

“But!” Twilight starts hyperventilating. “I don’t have a building! Or a curriculum! Or teachers!”

“Huh,” Applejack deadpans, tapping a hoof against her chin. “That is a problem.”

“Not it,” Rainbow Dash calls with a smirk.

“Not it,” Rarity adds, joined by Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy.

“Not it,” Applejack tries, but it’s too late. “Aww, shucks, y’all. Ah’m gonna be busier than the press on fresh cider day!”

Twilight faints at the thought of not having her Friends at her side, flopping to her floor.

“Gotcha!” Rainbow Dash laughs, dropping down to nuzzle the comatose alicorn.

Raikou strides over to Celestia. She greets him with a flick of her head. “We’re cool, right?” he bluntly asks, raising a fist to her.

“We only require a formal alliance if you do,” Celestia responds, hoof bumping the gray fist.

“Great.” Raikou nods to himself, looking down at the prone alicorn. “She okay?”

“I’m sure everything will be just fine,” Celestia says, eye twinkling.

Next Chapter: Ch. 51 - Volley Fire, Part One* Estimated time remaining: 23 Hours, 44 Minutes