A lanky, amber colt peered over a rock at the village below. He saw the inhabitants of the village hustling and bustling about their daily business without a care in the world, and he sighed.
Just think, Snails, he whispered longingly to himself. If the rumors about this place are true, this is where you truly belong.
With some trepidation, Snails crept slowly toward the town, his legs wobbly like an infant's.
Hooves, don’t fail me now. This is going to be the smartest thing you’ve ever done. Trust me.
He had been trying to find encouraging things to say to himself throughout the entire journey. A lot of the clichéd elements had rung hollow, such as Would I lie to me? Have I ever let myself down? He knew better than to ask, but the platitudes has gotten him to his final destination, and he determined to stay the course. He wasn’t a liar, but he was stupid. He always let himself down. This time was going to be different, though.
He received a few odd looks from the townsponies as he trotted along the main street. They were judging him, of course. He wasn’t surprised. Everypony judged him. The fillies thought he was gross because of his cutie mark, and the colts thought he was a loser for the same reason. Not Snips, though. Snips was his best friend. He'd never judge.
Don’t think about Snips, he chided himself. Snips would call you crazy for coming here. Hay, he already did. You’re gonna show him. You’ll show them all. You’ll make new friends here. Better friends.
A trio of fillies all sporting the same cutie mark skipped by Snails without a single one batting an eyelash at him. Are they ignoring me, or accepting me for who I am? Snails couldn’t help but wonder.
“You look lost, little colt,” a friendly voice called out to him.
Snails turned to see a pink coated unicorn mare with a purple striped mane addressing him. At first glance, she looked about as average as everypony else in the village, but there was something in the way she addressed him that showed authority. She was the mare in charge; therefore, she was the one Snails sought.
“Not anymore,” Snails quipped, causing a small smile to spread across the mare’s face. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Tell me about yourself, Snails. What pain gnaws at the heart of such a young pony to drive him all this way from…?” Starlight stopped, her eyes anticipating Snails’ response. She had taken him to a nondescript office with a comfortable, if threadbare sofa that he reclined in. She had taken a seat in a chair that looked like it had been repurposed from somepony's kitchen table into an office chair.
“Ponyville,” Snails mumbled.
“Ponyville,” Starlight repeated, nodding and writing something down on her stenographer tablet. “That is a long journey, and not an easy one. You are a brave colt to make it by yourself.”
“I’m not that brave,” Snails growled. “It’s probably just me being stupid, like the time me and Snips brought an Ursa Minor back to town.”
If Starlight was impressed or revolted by Snails revelation, she didn’t show it. She simply nodded again. “Colts will be colts, Snails. While I cannot fathom the logic of bringing such a dangerous and wild creature into a public area, perhaps you could explain it to me.”
Snails flushed at the memory. “Snips and I wanted to see the Great and Powerful Trixie vanquish it like she said she could.”
“I see,” Starlight murmured. “Peer pressure from another unicorn who thinks she’s better than everypony else. It does not surprise me. Was it your idea or your friend’s?”
“Look, unless an ursa major comes waltzing up the street for Trixie to vanquish, I am not gonna believe a word she says, and neither should you!” Spike retorted.
“Hm, an ursa walking up the street, eh? Snails! Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Snips elbowed Snails in the ribs gently as buddies tend to do.
“Why do they call it a flea market when they don’t sell fleas?”
“Huh? I don’t follow,” Starlight looked confused.
“Oh,” Snails said, realizing that he had spoken his thoughts out loud. “I… um… was thinking about something else at the time. Snips had the big idea, I just followed him. I do that a lot.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a follower, Snails,” Starlight assured him. “It’s just a matter of finding the right pony to follow. For example, do you have any siblings?”
“Yeah, I have a sister. Raindrops.”
“Tell me about her. What makes her special?”
Snails thought a bit. “She’s not really all that special. Wait, that sounds mean. I mean, she is special to me, cuz she’s my sister and stuff, but she’s not like an Element of Harmony or anything.”
Starlight cocked her head. “What does she do?”
“She’s a weather pony. She’s not the strongest flyer, but she gets by. She tried out for the Wonderbolts and was a wing pony for a while, so that’s something. The thing is, most of the time she’s just kind of there in the background. I think that’s what I envy about her.”
“Envy?” Starlight smiled and clapped her hooves together. The way she did it reminded Snails of a praying mantis.
“Yeah,” Snails continued. “She doesn’t have a ton of ponies who take one look at her and say things like ‘there’s the dummy who led an ursa to town.’ They tend to leave her alone.”
“So she’s never done anything wrong that you can think of? Something that publicly humiliated you or your parents?”
“Well… there was an incident when she was helping a friend move, but I’m pretty sure they blamed that on our mailmare. I’d take that over the ursa incident. Hay, Snips and I didn’t learn our lesson and helped Trixie enslave the town the next time she came back.”
“I see.” Starlight scribbled some notes down on her tablet. “How did that end?”
“Everything worked out. It was just another evil artifact controlling Trixie’s mind. It happens a lot in Ponyville. I heard this one time, Sweetie Belle’s sister--”
“What about your cutie mark?” Starlight interrupted Snails. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, that.” Snails said. “I used to, when I first got it. I was always collecting worms and slugs and insects and stuff the fillies found icky. The guys didn’t like it much either.”
“The colts picked on you for it?”
“Rumble said it was dumb. He said that he hopes he gets a cooler cutie mark than a bug. I told him that snails are gastropods, not bugs, and he just called me weird. Button Mash didn't have anything good to say about it either. He just said 'That's Nice,' and went back to playing his stupid Joy Boy.”
“It’s not nice that somepony with no cutie mark at all is judging you for yours, is it?”
“It’s not fair,” Snails agreed. “I used to think I was unique, because nopony else had a cutie mark like mine, and maybe they were just jealous of me. But Raindrops knows at least three other pegasi who have almost the same exact mark as she does. They’re all weather related, too. I knew I wouldn’t get one like that because I’m a unicorn, not a pegasus. But I don’t know any unicorns who have a cutie mark like mine, either. Unicorns usually have music or stars or things like that. I think I just got the wrong one. Am I just so dumb that I can’t even get my special talent right?”
“I don’t think you’re dumb, Snails. You’re actually being very insightful right now,” Starlight admonished him. She jotted a few more notes down on her tablet. “You have a bit of a rivalry with your sister then. You don’t get along?”
“No, she’s the best sister ever,” Snails argued, his eyes narrowing defensively. “ She always knows what to say to me when I’m down, and stuff. I just wish I was more like her sometimes, is all.”
“I see,” Starlight nodded. Is that all she’s gonna do? Snails wondered.
“It probably doesn’t help that Snips and I are the only unicorn colts in town,” Snails added. “All of the other unicorns are adults or fillies.”
“It makes you feel different, I imagine,” Starlight noted.
“You bet it does,” Snails agreed. “Hay, Apple Bloom once suggested that my cutie mark was more appropriate for an earth pony than a unicorn.”
“Another blank flank trying to tell you what your destiny is supposed to mean?” Starlight asked.
“I know, right?” Snails threw up his hooves in irritation. “She’s got some nerve. Where does she get off interpreting my cutie mark when she doesn’t even have one of her own? Besides, she’s gonna get an apple like the rest of her family. They all have apples or apple-somethings, so I don’t get why she keeps trying to get something different.”
“She’s younger than you. Of course she doesn’t understand yet,” Starlight pointed out, rolling her eyes.
“It’s still mean, and I think she’s old enough to know better.” Snails pouted.
Starlight started chewing on the tip of her quill, anticipating the colt’s next thoughts. When Snails didn’t speak up again after a while, she decided to move on.
“You said that your sister looks like a lot of other mares her age, right? What about the colts in Ponyville? Apart from cutie marks, what are they like?”
“A bunch of them kind of look like Snips in a way,” Snails said. “Diamond Tiara says colts like Snips, Fry, and Truffle are fat, but Zipporwhill calls them ‘roly poly cuteness.’”
“Roly poly cuteness?”
“It’s a Zipporwhill thing. She’s a filly, so she’s kind of weird. It’s one of the things you grow out of when you get to be grown up like you. Not that I’m calling you old or anything, but you’re way older than Zipporwhill...”
“I think I got it,” Starlight rolled her eyes again.
“But yeah, you’ve got the ones like Snips, and a bunch of colts like Strike, Shady Daze, and Button Mash, and then a few oddballs like Pipsqueak, Featherweight and me who don’t look like anypony else. Silver Spoon thinks me and Featherweight are too scrawny for her, not that we care what she thinks.”
“Good for you,” Starlight beamed. Snails squinted at her, trying to read her expression to see if her reply was genuine or sarcastic. Starlight was tougher to read than some of the books in the old library.
“I told her that her gray mane makes her look older, but I think she took it as a compliment,” Snails admitted.
Starlight set her quill down, and looked Snails over slowly. Snails suppressed the urge to shudder despite the feeling that she had x-ray eyes and was peering through his outer shell to the soft squishy center.
“I think I can help you,” Starlight Glimmer announced.
“Praise Celestia, I knew you could,” Snails exclaimed, throwing his hooves in the air in jubilation.
“It’s just a matter of making sure that this town is exactly what you want,” Starlight cautioned him.
“I saw three fillies walking by earlier who didn’t even notice me,” Snails said. “I mean, I’m used to the fillies ignoring me ever since before I had my cutie mark, but it’s different here. I want to fit in here. Be like them. Be like you.”
“I gathered as much, but it’s going to take some work. You do stand out quite a bit,” Starlight reminded him. “That might work in Ponyville, but here… we do things different here.” Snails wasn’t sure where she got the staff that she was holding in her hooves, but he trembled a bit at the sight of it.
“Does… does that thing have the power to change my cutie mark?” Snails asked, his eyes wide with wonder.
“Very perceptive,” Starlight said. “That is the least of it’s real power. Behold.” A bolt of light arced from the staff and struck Snails right between the eyes, temporarily blinding him. When his vision cleared, he turned back to look at his cutie mark. It was still a snail. His coat was still amber, and his mane and tail still teal.
“Did I break it?” Snails asked. “Nothing happened.”
Starlight chuckled, and gave him a mirror. “See for yourself.”
Tentatively, Snails took the proffered mirror and gazed at his reflection. He gasped. His body was the same as before, but where previously his eyes were a pair of beady little black pits like those of a rat, now they were… appealing. His irides were teal, and matched his mane. He wasn’t one to brag, but they almost made him look… handsome? It was amazing.
“Would you like more?” Starlight cooed, her voice sweet, and flowing like honey. Snips nodded, poking a hoof in his eye to see if it was really his. The pain that followed confirmed that it was.
“Of course you do… they all do,” Starlight added. “Poor unfortunate souls, all of you. Don’t worry, I can make it better. There’s just one itsy bitsy thing…”
“There’s always a price, isn’t there?” Snails moaned. “I don’t have any bits to pay you with.”
“Oh, dear me, money? Merciful heavens, no. Nothing so bourgeoisie, my little pony,” Starlight laughed with a tinkling sound like the breaking of many tiny crystalline bells.
“But I don’t have anything to offer you,” Snails insisted.
“Of course you do, and better yet, you’re offering it freely,” Starlight cryptically, but gently rebuked him. She presented him with a contract. Snails skimmed the contents, seeing many references to a “price to be paid,” but written in a legalese that he, being only a school aged colt, was not trained to comprehend. “I must warn you: if you accept, the next step might sting a bit, but think of it like you would a vaccination. The long term benefits outweigh the pain of a little prick.”
That certainly made sense. “Where do I sign?” Snails asked.
“You read the contract thoroughly with your new eyes?” Starlight crooned.
“Maybe I didn’t read every single tiny syllable, but basically, I read it,” Snails snapped impatiently. “Are we gonna do this or not?”
Starlight levitated her slightly chewed quill over to Snails, who eagerly scratched his name on the line at the bottom.
“What lovely penmareship,” Starlight praised him. Her face then went stern and focused. “Now, as I warned you, this will hurt a bit.”
Snails’ world exploded into agony. This was not getting a tetanus shot, or even a feather flu shot (which was something he never understand why his parents made him get since he was a unicorn), this was, to put it bluntly, like the denizens of Tartarus were feasting on his very soul, yanking out his mane, tail, and every hair in his coat one by one. He felt the very marrow of his bones shifting, squishing, being molded into something different. It could have been five minutes (and it probably was), but it felt like eons before the dazzling light stopped and he was able to see clearly again.
“M… mirror?” he croaked. Even his voice sounded different. It was deeper, almost like Big McIntosh’s. Remembering his manners, he added “um… please?”
“Certainly,” Starlight obliged him.
It was amazing. He looked almost exactly like the three fillies who had run by him before. A quick moment of panic made him check down below… oh good, still there. That would have been awkward, but upon more careful scrutiny, he decided that he was a rather attractive pretty colt; perhaps a younger Trenderhoof without the stupid goatee.
“Judging by your smile, you approve?” Starlight asked, although she almost didn’t have to bother.
“My cutie mark’s still there,” Snails said accusingly. That was the “almost.”
“That was only part two,” Starlight answered with another bell cracking laugh. “It was rather painful, I didn’t want to make it more than you could handle.
“Cheese-oh-mare, I’m looking good,” Snails said. “You can fire that wand up again whenever you’re ready. Buh-bye snail cutie mark forever!”
“I’m glad you approve,” Starlight said with a smile.
“Wait until Snips sees me. He’s gonna be so jealous…”
“That’s not going to happen,” Starlight informed him softly.
“What?” Snails whipped his head around. It was weird. He was still smiling, although some part of his subconscious told him that he shouldn’t be. He tried to force his jaw into a grimace, but… he wasn’t sure that he remembered how.
“My dear colt, when you agreed to the contract, you agreed to remain in my town. I can’t have you going back to Ponyville. I’m not strong enough yet for that. You must stay here with us.” Snails couldn’t place it, but something about Starlight’s smile was wrong. It was wide… too wide. Almost inequine.
“But… Snips. He’s my friend…”
“If he really was your friend, he’d be here right now, wouldn’t he? But he’s not. We’re all the friends you need now, Snails. We’re your friends, your family, and your future.”
“I didn’t…”
“Yes you did, Snails. It says so right there.” Starlight pointed her hoof at Snails signature. His eyes picked up on some fine print around it.
“The pony formerly known as Snails.” He read the words aloud. Horsefeathers.
“Don’t worry, my friend,” Starlight said. It could have been his imagination, but she didn’t sound very friendly or enticing anymore. “After round three is over, you won’t remember, or even care about who you used to be. You’ll just be one of us. Your payment was something you didn’t value anyway… your individuality.”
Snails wanted to hang his head and cry, but his muzzle was still stuck in a manure eating grin. A solitary tear rolled down his new, perfect cheek. He looked at the door.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Starlight tut-tutted. “You really don’t want to know what happens to somepony who breaks the contract after only two rounds. It’s… messy.”
“I don’t even get to say goodbye?”
“You’re smarter than you think, Snails. Why don’t you answer that?”
“Because Raindrops and Snips would try to take me home,” Snails moped, as well as he could with a perpetual grin, anyway.
“See? You are a smart colt, my dear. I knew that when we first started talking,” Starlight waved her staff majestically. “As much as I’d love to share my village with Snips, Raindrops, and even Princess Celestia herself, they aren’t ready yet. No, only ponies like you who come here of their own free will are ready.”
“Then… I guess you may as well get it over with.” Snails was eerily calm and resigned.
“It won’t hurt as much this time, I promise. Just don't resist. Let go.”
The staff flashed for the third time. It wasn’t as unpleasant as before, it actually tickled a bit. Snails watched in amazement as his cutie mark morphed into an equal sign just like Starlight’s, and everypony else’s in the village. He felt a warmth in his heart that filled him with euphoria. It felt good. He felt loved.
And then he wasn’t Snails any more. He almost didn’t care.
Almost.
