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               The Colt in Sugarcube Corner                
                     -by matrixjorel-                      
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                 It's About What You Want                  
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It's About What You Want
“Do you recommend the cherry or the blueberry pie?”
“Please, sit down.”
Applebloom eased herself uncomfortably into the booth.  Not because of the setting; she had been in Sugarcube Corners many times, knew most of the regular customers, even knew Pinkie Pie and the Cakes.  The source of her discomfort came from the colt she took company with.
“What can I do for you…?”
“Applebloom.”
“Ahh, yes.  Applebloom.  I presume you’re related to Granny Smith?”  She didn’t answer.  The colt looked back into his book.  Applebloom remembered hearing her granny tell her of the devil in Ponyville, the “Grey Colt” that can make horrible things happen with evil magic.  Even as she walked to Sugarcube Corner from her barn, she grew fearful.  Every step she took brought her closer to this devil, and her imagination ran wild of what he looked like.  Looking at him now, she almost laughed at her fear.
He wasn’t a looming creature.  He was a pony, and an earth pony at that, just like her.  Good, he can’t do magic then, the little filly reassured herself.  Every pretense she imagined about this pony was completely wrong.  Where she imagined horns or other monstrous growths, she saw a greying mane that did nothing more than sit on his head and reveal his advanced age.  His head, coat, and tail were all equally grey.  He was a shadow in the corner of the store.  Thankfully, Applebloom learned that there is nothing to fear from a shadow; she proceeded.
“I heard that you can do things.  Is that true?”
The colt looked up.  “I’m sorry; I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, it has to be you.  You’re the colt that makes things happen, things nopony else can do.  You help ponies with their problems, my granny told me about you!”
“I have been known to help ponies with problems they face.  That is true.”
Applebloom took a deep breath.  Monster or not, she knew little about him other than the horrid stories Granny Smith told her.  Besides that, nopony seemed to know who he was, let alone his strange abilities.  In fact, nopony in town knew anything about him.  Scary or not, every gut in her body warned her to stay away from him, no matter what.  However, years of running around with her friends brought her no closer to what she wanted.  She needed her cutie mark, and he could help her, evil magic or not.
“Now, how does this work?”
The colt stared at her, maintaining eye contact as he calmly sipped his water.  His eyes were blank, shockingly blank, as if the grey windows held a vast abyss behind them.  “You tell me what you want.  I give you a task.  You do the task, you get what you want.”
Applebloom was quiet for a second, waiting expectantly.  Reality set in that there was no next part.  “That’s it?”
“You come back periodically and give me the details.”
The young filly laughed inside her head.  After all the work she underwent running around with her Cutie Mark Crusaders, and yet it was this easy!  Why did she not do this earlier?
“I want my cutie mark!”
The colt broke his stare for the first time to look to his side.  Craning her neck, the little pony looked to see what he was looking at.  It was a brown notebook.  He looked in it.  She heard pages being flipped.  His pencil began scribbling across the paper.  He then closed the book neatly at his side.  His eyes settled back on her, and the same dark emptiness weighed down on her.
“I can help.”
“Really?  That’s great!  Tell me what it is that I have to do, I’ll do just about anything, I actually learned a lot of cool tricks in my endeavors for getting a cutie mark, I tried SCUBA diving, bowling, hoopdee loop, foreign languages, even journalism, but…” she froze.  She could have continued talking, but the stare of the colt stopped her words before they could come out.  Was this the evil magic her granny warned her about?
“There is a pony in Canterlot.  If you want what you say you want, you will find this pony, befriend her, and when she asks for it, you help her.”
Applebloom stared back at the colt.  “That’s it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Wait, you said in Canterlot?  How am I supposed to get there?”
“That’s not my problem, is it?”
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Octavia paced nervously outside of Sugarcube Corner.  She was never one to believe in miracles, but Vinyl’s manager was the wealthiest record producer in Equestria, and he personally told her that it was this colt that made it all possible.
She walked in and found the colt exactly where they said he would be, tucked away in the far corner of Sugarcube Corner.  If she wasn’t making a conscious effort, she would have missed him completely.  He seemed to be so grey he blended into the shadowy background.  Most ponies she knew had a touch of color on them, but not him.  Even his cutie mark was a dark and depressing brown.
She walked up to him.  “Ummm… do you recommend the cherry or blueberry pie?”
The colt twitched his head over to the other side of the booth, beckoning her to sit down.  She did so.  He looked up without saying a word.  They sat for an uncomfortable amount of time, Octacia waiting for this pony to say something, and this colt gazing into her eyes, observing her.  Octavia felt like he would remain quiet forever unless she said something.  “Hi, my name is Octavia.”
Silence.
“Ummm… my friend Vinyl Scratch said that you can help me.”
The colt finally spoke.  “Vinyl?”
“Vinyl Scratch, the disc jockey, DJ PON3?”  Octavia remembered.  “Oh, and so did Money Baggs, her manager.”
His eyes opened slightly.  Other tank that, Tavi thought she was looking at a statue.  “Oh yes, Mr. Baggs.  I hear he is well, is that true?”
“He retired a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”  Silence came back into the booth and overtook their brief conversation.  Octavia needed to be blunt.  “I need my inspiration back.”
“Come again?”
“My inspiration, my music.  I feel distant from my cello, it doesn’t bring the same joy it used to.  I don’t know why, but nothing I do helps.  I look at my friend, and how much joy her turntables bring her, and I feel her music… mine is empty.”  Octavia looked down at her hooves defeated.  As a musician, her whole life had been her cello, and without it, there was a hole in her heart that nothing could ever fill.
She looked up, expecting to colt across from her to console her, sympathize with her, at least show recognition of her suffering.  Instead, he preoccupied himself with something else: a book.  He stared intensely at a spot in his book, as if the second he looked away the words in it would disappear.  A pencil hung limply in his mouth.  If he was about to write something, he was too distracted to do so at this moment.
He set the book and pencil down, and stared at Octavia.  She now realized that it was not only the silence that bothered her, but his eyes.  If the eyes were windows into the soul, his soul was not only empty, but a dry sponge, and it seemed to be sucking away at Octavia.  Her breathing became very shallow.  How he was able to wordlessly constrict her breathing was beyond her.
“I can do that.”  He spoke with such monotone, as if discussing with her what he would wear tomorrow.  From what Octavia knew about the colt, they could be one in the same for him
“I understand that you make me do something…”
“No, I do not make you do something.  I give you a task.  If you do it, you get what you want.”
“And if I don’t do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Isn’t it kinda your job to know this?”
“No, my job is to give you a task.”
“And what is my task.”
The colt glanced back at his book.  “Destroy a turntable.”
“Come again?”
“Or rather, hers.”  His eyes narrowed slightly, and instead of reducing the effect of his sponge-like spirit, it intensifies the pressure she felt.  Every breath she took was a battle..  “Your friend is a disc jockey, you say?”
“Yes?”
“Then you are to destroy her turntables if you want to feel your inspiration again.”
Octavia gaped at the colt.  Was this some kind of joke?  “And why would you want me to do this?”
The statue of a colt sighed.  “It’s not about what I want.  It’s about what you want.”
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Ever since the Summer Sun Celebration so long ago, and Twilight taking residence in the local library, Ponyville grew accustom to seeing the Princess of the Sun come to their humble little hamlet on a regular basis.  It was because of this that nopony was shocked when Princess Celestia walked into the Cake’s establishment.  Red in the face, she approached the corner booth of Sugarcube Corner and smashed her hoof onto the table.  “How DARE you do this to me!”
The gray colt calmly sipped his water as if Celestia’s outburst was nothing more than a breeze.
“I demand you tell me who you work for!  Is it the dragons?  The Sphinx of the Neigh-le?”  Silence.  “Are you from Tartarus?”  No response.  “Do you know who I am?”
“You are Princess Celestia, and I believe you are late for your appointment.”
In her thousands of years, never had she felt so much rage for a pony as she had toward this colt.  Sitting there with his book, calmly sipping from his cup, knowing full well what he told Celestia—the princess of Equestria, his ruler—to do.
“I will have you arrested if you don’t answer me.  You know I can, I will tell the guards right now.”
The colt looked up to her.  He softly chuckled as he looked up at her, the same way a father would find his ranting daughter’s pleas for toys or candy humorous.  “No you won’t.”
“YOU DARE TELL THE PRINCESS WHAT SHE CAN AND CANNOT DO?”  Celestia rarely used her Canterlot voice, but her anger was too great to control.
“I’m not telling you what you can and cannot do.  I simply know that you won’t do it.”
Celestia stared at him, knowing a thousand spells that could punish him, make him disappear, hurt him… but she didn’t.  He was right.  As much as she hated to admit it, he did nothing illegal, only morally ambiguous.  No judge would ever uphold her judgment on such accusations. She sighed, defeated, and sat in the booth across from the colt.  He still calmly sipped his water; he acted as if nothing that the princess said from walking in to now had happened.  This colt almost seemed to enjoy toying with Celestia, even if he didn’t show it.  He… he can't be equine… he just can't be.
“I assume you are making progress?”
It took her remaining strength to answer calmly.  “Yes.  I had to sojourn to the Dragon’s Mountain, but I found the texts.”
The colt pulled out his pencil and book.  “Why go so far?”
“Because there are no longer any violent texts in any or Equestria’s libraries.”
“That seems odd.”
“It’s so ponies like YOU don’t abuse their power to get what they want.”
The colt closed his eyes.  “I don’t want anything, I’ve told you.”
“Then why would you make me do this?”
“Because it is how you get what you want.  If you do it, I cannot promise anything.”
“And what do you plan to get out of this.”
“Nothing.  This isn't about me.”  He answer seemed so plain to Celestia, she knew that he was hiding something.  “You don’t have to do this, you know.  You can stop at any time.”
“And what happens with our deal?  What about my end?”
“It won’t happen.”
“So this is my only option?”
The pony sighed as he set his book aside.  He grabbed his pencil in his hoof, and began to draw into the air.  “Time is a mysterious thing.  You make choices every day that seem meaningless now but are critical in the universe.  And each time you make a choice, new opportunities open up, and others close.  Like an apple tree.  You start at the trunk, go down one branch, and there are many more branching from it.”
“And?”  Celestia grew tired of this colt lecturing her about life and choices, she had lived at least fifteen of his lifetimes.
“I don’t know what will come from each decision you make, and frankly, I don’t care.  But I do know that if you do what I told you to, you will get exactly what you want.  That’s but one option, though.  There’s a chance that you don’t do this task and you still get what you want.”
“But if I do this, then I’ll…”
The colt nodded.  “If you do this task, you will get what you want.”
Celestia nodded at him.  He had connections.  That must be how he does it.  Or an extremely powerful unicorn working for him.  How else could he do the things he promised, even things Celestia herself couldn’t do?
“So, you went to the dragon’s stronghold, how was that?”
“Dangerous.  Even I am powerless against some of their more primal magics.  But I found a set of runes.”
“Runes are very interesting, that’s good.”  The colt continued writing as Celestia talked, taking milliseconds to look back up at the princess across the booth in between notes.
“They reminded me of a time when we were more like the dragons.  We had to fight just to live, and many died: equine and dragon alike.  These magics did nothing but kill and destroy, and that is why I have outlawed such magic.  If their powers ever fell into the wrong hands, somepony may use it to achieve evil things.”  She targeted that last part at the grey earth pony sitting across from her.  He seemed not to notice.
“You must have lived during those times.  What was that like?”
“I hated the fear, the anger that overcame everypony.  I swore to myself that if I ever had power, I would use it for peace, and harmony.  And I have.  Now, nopony here would ever dream or murder.  Nopony.  Ever.”  She glared at the deep grey eyes that stared back at her.  No matter how hard she looked, no matter how much she wanted to see the deformed soul that must live in this pony and put it out of its misery, she couldn’t; there was no soul to be seen.
“Now, these runes, you think they will be enough?”
“Yes.” Celestia sighed, trying to breathe through the guilt slowly pulling her heart down into her stomach.  “You’re a monster.”
The colt pushed his empty glass to the side to signal for a refill.  “I am not a monster.”
“Then what are you?”
He did not answer.
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Pinkie Pie enjoyed her job, perhaps a bit too much.  Even when Mr. and Mrs. Cake closed up shop, she would volunteer to stay behind, clean the dining area, clean the kitchens, and prepare the back room for baking early tomorrow.  Moving dishes would have been a tiresome job, but Pinkie loved every moment of it, finishing her job in less than a half an hour.
She bounced over to the dining area to wipe down the tables when she noticed something; a colt.  He was sitting in the corner booth in the dark corner of the shop, sipping a cup of ice water and looking at something in a book that was laid out in front of him, holding a well-used pencil in his hoof.  Pinkie didn’t know who this pony was, or what he was doing in the shop so late.  He almost blended into the shop, and Pinkie was sure that if she didn’t stay tonight, she too wouldn’t have noticed him.  But his face… it seemed so familiar.  Had she seen him before?
Realization kicked her mind into over drive; when hadn’t Pinkie seen him?  He was here every day, with this pony or that one, talking to them and writing in his book?  Was he a writer?  A journalist?  Maybe an artist?
Realization kicked her harder.  You don’t know this colt!  A million voices screamed in Pinkie’s head at the same time, all telling her the same thing; “Go make friends!”
“Hiya, Mr. Colt!”
The mystery-pony looked up.  “Can I help you?”
“Yes, you can help me!  What’s your name?”
“Umm… my what?”
“Your name! You have to have a name, I mean have you ever heard of a colt without a name?  That’s just crazy!”
The colt looked up confused, as if she was speaking a different language.  Oh no! Was she speaking a different language?  She thought to herself.  No, ‘Talk in Gibberish Day’ was last month.  “Umm… excuse me?  May I sit here?”
The colt snapped out of his daze.  “Oh, go ahead.”
She sat down across from him.  She could see why he liked this corner, it was very cozy.  He remained quiet.
“So, you’re the shy kind of pony… no worries!  My name’s Pinkie Pie!  I’m Ponyville’s unofficial greeter, so sorry that I’m so late, but WELCOME!  I’ll throw a party this week, it’ll be so great, do you like cupcakes?”
“No parties.”
“But I always throw parties for new ponies.”
“No, you won’t throw a party.”
Pinkie could tell he was serious, almost scared about having a party.  Confused, she accepted.  “Okay, no parties.”
“So, what would you like?”
“I’d like for you to tell me your name!”
The colt looked up at her.  She didn’t notice how expressionless his eyes were, he seemed so sad.  This was exactly what he needed; a pony to talk to!
“No, I mean… ponies usually come to me when they need something, and I help them.”
“Oh, okay.  Then I need to have a conversation with you!”
“A… conversation?”
“Yes, a conversation!  You know, when you say something, then I say something, then we keep saying somethings until there’s no more somethings to be said!  A conversation!”
The perplexed pony looked from his book to the bubbly pink mare across from him, as if looking for a response written somewhere, something he can say to answer Pinkie’s request.  “Okay, I’ll start… so, Mr. Colt, what do you do?  Are you a reporter?  Newspony?”  No answer.  “Oh, I know!  Can I look at your cutie mark?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, and seemed to teleport to his side.  “Ooohhh… it’s a square.  No, a rectangle… is it a rectangle?  It’s so hard to tell.”
“It’s a book.”
“You mean like this one here?”  She said pointing to the book sitting next to him.  As he grabbed it, Pinkie realized that his cutie mark wasn’t like that book; it was that book. There could be no mistake.
Sitting down once again, the colt now seemed to completely close up to her advances.  She had dealt with ponies like him before; it would just take patience.  “Okay, well I need to clean up, and the stores closed Mr. Colt, so you’ll have to go home.”
He remained quiet, his demeanor now wiped of any of the confusion that she saw mere seconds ago.
“Oh, and if you ever need a pony to talk you, I’m right here!”
She went into the back, and started cleaning dishes.
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“Can you do that?  Can you make me a Wonderbolt?”
The colt looked at the rainbow pegasus, wrote some quick notes in his book.  “Yes, that can work.”
Rainbow Dash leapt out of her chair and did a flip in the air before returning.  “Woohoo!  Thank you so much sir, you have no idea what this means to me!  So, now you tell me what to do, right?  What is it?  Washing a house?  Helping Applejack with Zap Apples?  Twilight told me all she had to do was—“
“You have to kill somepony.”

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                 It Is Not My Job To Know                  
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It Is Not My Job To Know
“You want me to what?"
“Kill somepony.  In fact, I believe her name is…” he looked back into his book.  “…Scootaloo.”
“Woah woah woah, back up there.  You’re telling me that the only way to become a Wonderbolt is to kill Scoots?”
“Yes.  And it sounds like you already know this pony.”  His spoke with such nonchalance, it sent shivers down Rainbow’s back.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then this should make things easier, right?"
“Is this a joke?”
“There is no joking.  You kill Scootaloo, you will become a Wonderbolt.”
Rainbow laughed.  “Okay Pinkie, this was a funny joke, but you went a little too far this time.  The joke’s over.”  She looked around for her pink friend to poke out and yell out “April Fools!” even though it was nowhere near April.  Her eyes darted desperately this way and that, her hope sinking every second.  Whatever this colt was pulling, she now knew he was serious.
“Will you do it?”
“Buck no.”  Rainbow heard enough of the colt’s garbage.  She grabbed his water and splashed it in his face before flying out.  The colt calmly wiped the water from his face, and began to write in his notebook.
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It was a while before Rainbow calmed down and sat down with the colt again.
“Ah, hello again Rainbow Dash.”
She didn't answer.  She didn't want to give him that pleasure.
“You left before we made a deal.”
“Yeah, because your 'deal' is totally uncool.  I'm not going to kill anypony.”
“Then you won't become a Wonderbolt.”  The colt seemed to read Rainbow's gaping mouth because he added, “At least, you won't find the answer at this establishment.”
The hotheaded pegasus tempered her emotions before blood could be drawn.  He wasn't laughing, giggling, or even smiling; only staring at her with his grey, emotionless eyes.  He was serious.  Whatever he was—devil or angel—he was absolutely serious about this.
“Just tell me this; how do you know this?”
With a wicked grin, he replied, “Let's just say, I have my source, and my source has never been wrong.”
If Soarin hadn't swore on her uniform that this guy was 100 percent legit, Rainbow would have left a long time ago.  However, she stayed.  This colt had to be telling her the truth.  But Rainbow really hoped he was wrong.
“So, will you do it?”
“No, I won’t do it!”
“Then don’t.”
Rainbow was not a killer, but she didn’t come this far to be stopped by this old geezer.  “Give me something else.”
“No.”
“Give me something else!”
“No, the deal is you kill Scootaloo.”
“I didn't agree on that, let me do something else.”
“If you don’t, then you don’t get to be a Wonderbolt.”
“This is the only way I will ever become a Wonderbolt?”
“This is the only way to guarantee that you will become a Wonderbolt, yes.”
Rainbow remained quiet for minutes.  Was this really her only option?  Kill her friend and sister, or give up her lifelong dream?  What kind of cruel pony would put her up to this task?  Why couldn’t she have some easy task?  Picking flowers, or shaving her head, she would have done in a heartbeat.  Heck, she would have done just about anything, except murder.  But to finally become a Wonderbolt…
It had been her life, her every hope and aspiration, to fly for crowd of thousands; to be remembered for being the greatest pegasus of her lifetime.  She wanted to be remembered at the only pegasus to perform a Sonic Rainboom since Sonic Sabre.  She trained long and hard everyday, even when her friends believed her to be sleeping or goofing off, improving er endurance, her turning, her spirals; repeating drills after tedious drills until her wings screamed in pain louder than the air whipping in her face.
But the WOnderbolts would never accept her.  No matter how fast she could fly, no matter what she could do, skill was not enough: she never graduated from flight school.  She could've, really, but partying was just too much fun, and at the time, school was not as important for her.  She cursed herself everyday for doing this to herself, but what was done could not be taken back.
Now, this colt offered her a chance—her only chance.
“So, what do you think Rainbow?”
It took her a while to recognize that she was being summoned out from the corridors of her mind and back into the booth in Sugarcube Corner.  “I’ll… think about it.”
“Take your time.  Just make sure to come back next week and give me the details.”
Rainbow Dashed stared him head on.  “Details of what?”
“What you’re thinking, feeling, anything that comes to mind.”  What was his motive?  Whatever it was, Rainbow couldn’t tell what it was by looking at him.  A brick wall would have more emotions than this colt.
“You’re a sicko, you know that?”
“Ponies tell me that on many occasions.”
“Why Scoots, though?  Is this all part of some joke?”
“No joke.  You kill her, you become a Wonderbolt.  Guaranteed.”
“But why her?  Why do you want her dead?”
The colt stared at her, a grin contorting his face.  Even though it was barely noticeable, Rainbow Dash swore that it make him look even more twisted.
“I’m not the one who wants her dead, though.  You are.”
His answer flew straight through her heart, ripping it into a million pieces.  She wanted to punch this colt, but he was absolutely right; even at that exact moment, she had begun planning how to end Scootaloo’s life.
..................................................................................................................................................................
“Princess, a pleasure as always.”
The princess did not reply, hoping that giving this colt the silent treatment would somehow make her feel better about her situation.  The colt, once again ignoring Celestia, turned his attention to his pie.  His fork picked the already crumbling berry pie into a mush of filling and crust.
Celestia took her usual spot.  “The runes are translated.”
“Really?  What is this spell like?”
“It will get the job done, if that’s what you mean.  It’s evil.  A spell only a dragon could have use for.”
“And yourself?”  Celestia glared at the colt when he brought this up again; once again, he remained an impossible statue of emptiness.  “How does it feel, having this power at your disposal?”
“How does it feel?  It feel sickening!  Nopony should have this power, ever!  It’s evil, simple as that.  Pure tainted power.  The power to destroy your enemies… devastate any armies… anypony that ever angered you… with this power, you could make anything happen.”  Celestia’s beautiful purple eyes widened as she imagined the power and destruction that could come through this spell.  The fear it could create would cause such chaos.  At the same time, however, this spell could ensure peace.  Equestria remained peaceful because Celestia ruled with kindness and benevolence, but even she knew that one day that would not be enough.  This spell could bring her power—the power to quell any who stood to oppose her.  And this spell would ensure her power.  Not for her, but for Equestria.  Yes, that was the answer.  Not for me, for my subjects.
Waking from some unholy trance, the alicorn shook her head violently, trying to rid her memory of what she had just thought.  “No!  It’s evil!  It’s evil.”  Every time she repeated herself, her answer sounded weaker and weaker “It’s evil.”  Now her answer sounded more like a question; a rhetorical question that she feared she may already know the answer to.
The colt wrote a note in his brown book.  “Have you decided a place?”
“Yes.”  Celestia took weeks of debating with herself and researching alternatives and found her only option.  “The Canterlot Hospice.”
“I see… how did you come to this decision?”
“They’re terminally ill ponies, they’re going to die anyway, so…”
The colt nodded, still writing in his book.  “A very logical choice.”
“And it’s small, so not too many ponies will get hurt.”
“Remember Celestia, there has to be at least twenty—“
“Yes, yes, twenty six, I know!”  Her voice was testy.  She hated how this colt made her feel powerless, a feeling she had not felt for a thousand years.  She promised herself that once she was done, she would find him and do the same to him.
Where did that thought come from?  Celestia realized her violent outburst of thoughts, how could she even feel this way towards a pony?  No matter how dangerous a pony, she never killed—not even Nightmare Moon.  Was this pony more powerful than she realized?
“Well,” the colt sighed as the book returned to it usual spot beside its owner, “you still have a way to go.”
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“Give me something else.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Then I want a redo.  Let’s go, you can give me two tasks if you want.”  The colt remained silent.  “Do you want money?”  No answer.  Octavia tried to continue talking, but no sound came.  She eventually fell back into her hooves with rivers flowing from her eyes.
“The task is the same.  Destroy the turntables.  I assume you did not do this yet?”
Octavia tried to answer as clearly as she could, but her hooves distorted the sound of her voice as she answered from behind them.  “She’s my friend, I just can’t walk up and smash her instrument.”
“So this Vinyl Scratch, your friend, tell me more about her.”  The colt pulled out his book and pen.  Octavia had no idea what dark secrets were in this book, and something in the back of her mind told her she never wanted to know.
“Well, we’ve been roommates since college.  She is into very loud music like techno and trot-step.  She’s not the most cordial of ponies at times, and her table manners aren’t merit-worthy, but she is learning.”
“That’s nice.  Now, tell me about Vinyl Scratch.”
Octavia was quiet.  Somehow, when he repeated his question it rung completely different in her mind.  “She’s the best friend a pony could ask for.  She is always there to offer advice and a hug.  Sometimes we stay up all night with hot cocoa talking about all the cute colts we've seen… she’s the only pony I can trust with my secrets.”
“And I assume she feels the same about you?”
“I would hope so.  I know when her last boyfriend left her, she refused to leave her room for almost a week.  Nearly lost her job at the Canterlot wedding.  She refused to talk to anyone about it.  Everyone except me, that is.  She would always say…why am I telling you this?”  Octavia caught herself before she revealed any more.
“Sorry?”
“Why do you need to know about Vinyl?  What do you want?”
“I just want to know what you’re feeling.”
“I’m not telling you any more.”
The colt looked at his book.  He didn’t speak.  He didn’t move.  Octavia fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Do you love her?”
“Of course I love her!  She’s practically my sister, I’m certain we would be related in another universe!”
The colt wrote this down, or rather, he wrote something down.  What was he taking notes on?
“Are you absolutely sure that you cannot change the deal?”  Octavia asked desperately, knowing exactly what he would answer.
“Even if I wanted to, I cannot change this.”  His features were still empty, but Octavia could tell that he was annoyed by her badgering relentlessly.  She stared back into his eyes, feeling utterly lost.
..................................................................................................................................................................
“Hello again, Mr. Colt!”
Silence.
“What would you like, you didn’t seem to care too much for my amazingly yummy banana nut cake, is there anything else you think you’d like more?”
The colt stared out the window, Paying no attention to Pinkie Pie.
“How about your water, I can fill that up right now!”  She grabbed his cup and began to walk away.  “Are you sure you don’t want a party?  How about I at least sing you a song!  Please tell me you enjoy singing!”
No answer.
For once in her life, Pinkie believed that leaving in silence was her best option.
..................................................................................................................................................................
Rainbow Dash sat in the booth for at least an hour now.  She had spent the entire week thinking over what she heard, what the colt told her to do.  Through this entire hour, he drank water.  And stared at her.  Her mind was already torn in two by the choice the colt was making her take, and his soulless stare was not helping to calm her nerves.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
The conflicted pegasus sighed.  “I want to be a Wonderbolt.  For my entire life, that’s all I’ve wanted.  I still have all the merchandise my parents bought me from when I went to their shows from my filly years.  I’ve followed their every tour, learned all their moves, took all the training classes.  But I dropped out of flight school.  I thought my skills would get me there, but now I can see that there’s no way the Wonderbolts would give me a second thought.”
Was she really going to say what she thought she was going to say?  Scootaloo had treated her like a hero; wouldn’t the young filly be glad to make her happy?
“Scootaloo doesn’t have any parents.  She’s an orphan.  Nopony would miss her… right?”
The colt didn’t respond.  He was too busy writing in his book to answer her inquiry.  Rainbow doubted he would have said anything helpful anyway.
“And her wings… she can’t fly.  She’s told me how she can never go higher than 3 feet off the ground without help.  I know it’s killing her to have to live like that, I know it would kill me.  So, it’s right… right?”
Every fiber of her being told her otherwise.  Killing was killing, and she was willing to kill someone that looked up to her like a sister?  But every time she was ready to back out, the words of the colt rung in her ears; ‘If you don’t, then you don’t get to be a Wonderbolt.’  One for one, that was fair, right?  End one pony’s sufferings, and allow the other one to live their dream.
“You sound very sure about this.”
Rainbow hung her head in shame.
..................................................................................................................................................................
“I talked to mah sister, and she told me that we just started doing business in Canterlot.”
“Really?”  His eyes widened slightly from his normally intimidating scare.  She couldn’t tell if he was genuine with his surprise or if he knew this the whole time.
Applebloom nodded excitedly anyway.  “Applejack just opened up a mail service last week.  In fact, it was right after I came and talked to you.  Did you do this?”
The colt stole a quick glance at the book at his side.  “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, it’s too good to just be a coincidence; you had to have done SOMETHIN’!”
The colt chuckled.  “You did that.  When you started to do the task, things happen.”
“And you are the one helping me, thanks!”
“I don’t get involved, I did nothing.”
“Anyway, she tells me that I’m old enough to start handling shipments to Canterlot now, and the hours she wants me to work give me plenty of time to find this pony you told me about!”
“That’s good.”
He sipped his water.
“Soo…”
The colt continued to drink.
“SSSSOOOOOO…”
“What?”
“Aren’t you going to give me the next hint?”
“Next hint?”
“I’m getting close to finding the pony you want me to help, so I’m ready for some more details.”
“Details… this pony needs your help.  You give them the help they want.”
“But what does she look like?  What’s her name?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“Simple; I just don’t.”
“Then how do you know that she needs my help?”
The colt stole another look towards his book.  “Because when you help this pony, you get your cutie mark.”
Applebloom was confused.  How could this colt know that a pony needed help and not know who it was that needed help?  Could he see the future?  Maybe it had something to do with his book.  She never saw him without it, and every time she saw him he would constantly glance at it, like a nervous twitch.  The book seemed to be of the utmost importance to him, was it the source of his power?
Or maybe she was overthinking it…If he didn’t know the pony, it really could be anypony, right?  She smiled at her logic.
“So, if I help a pony, I’ll get my cutie mark?”
“If you help the pony, you will get your cutie mark, yes.”
“Okay, I can do that!”  She had never felt so close to her cutie mark than at this moment.  She bounced out of the stores, daydreaming about all the wonderful things she could do once she got her cutie mark.
The colt opened his book and began writing.
..................................................................................................................................................................
“How can this possibly work?”
“Celestia, I have told you many times, it simply does.”
“But how?  Who benefits from me doing this, from… setting off this spell?  Who is making you tell me to do this?”
“The only pony that I know will benefit from this, is you.”
“Who will kill Discord, then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why should I trust you?”
The colt moved the book and slice of cake out of his way, and leaned across the table towards the princess, making her feel inexplicably vulnerable.  “Because everypony that completed their task got what they wanted.  Everypony.”
That was what Celestia had heard.  He had powers, powers even she did not possess.  By the life of her, she would figure him out.  But until them, as much as she hated saying it, she needed him.
“So if I do it…?”
“Yes, you get what you want.”
“Discord dead.”  She had sworn never to take a life, but ever since Discord tried again to usurp her power and take over Equestria, she realized that she could not be the only pacifist in a world of cutthroat creatures.  And this way, she wasn’t directly killing him, right?  The twenty six ponies were merely… collateral damage.  Their sacrifice would ensure that the draconequus would never threaten Equestria again.
“If that is what you want, then yes.  Discord will die.  But you must do what I assigned you to do.”
“But how are these even connected?  How will this ensure that Discord will never see the light of day.”
The colt stared at her.  He spoke so plainly, yet with so much power.  His empty soul was either an angel sent to offer aid, or a demon coming to tempt.  Either way, Celestia felt like her hooves were tied.
“It is not my job to know.  My job is to tell you that if you sent off a spell bomb that kills twenty six ponies, Discord will die.”

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                Where Does The Change Stop?                
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Where Does The Change Stop?
Octavia took a deep breath to try and stop her hooves from shaking.  They’ve been doing that a lot since she first met this colt.
“I found a hammer.”
“Really?”
“I never knew we had a hammer.  I stood right next to her turntables last night and just… looked.  I really thought I was going to use it, but I just stood there.  All night.”
“And how many nights have you done this?”
Octavia sighed.  “For about 4 nights now.  Vinyl doesn’t know, but she’s starting to wonder about my sudden nocturnal tendencies…”
The colt wrote a note in his book.  “So when are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know!  I want to, but then I don’t, and…I just…”  The words were like cement, and as they dried in her throat, she almost felt like she was choking on them.
The colt took a deep breath.  “Okay, let’s move on.  About this cello of yours.”
“What about it?” Tavi croaked.
“It must be important to you, to come to me for help.”
“Are you kidding?  I’ve never been without a cello.  It was my mom’s idea.  When I was about 4 years old, for Hearts Warming Day, she got me a small play cello.  We didn’t have much, and my dad was never around.  My mom said he was off protecting Equestria from Nightmare Moon; she never had the heart to tell me the truth: he left her.  And me.  ‘That’s what happens when you love, sometimes’ she would tell me.  We didn’t have enough money even for food, so I was ecstatic when I opened my present and saw the most beautiful thing I ever laid my eyes on.”
The scribbling of his pencil on paper was frantic as Octavia poured out her soul, trying as hard as it could to catch a portion of what she said.
“I got my cutie mark that night, you know.  The entire day, I just played and played, and my mom was just about to pull out her hair, but I played anyway.  I loved the way she smiled every time I played a song for her, even before I knew how to play the cello correctly.  She told me that the music that came from my heart was the sweetest notes a pony could play.  Even after she… left this world, I continued to play for everypony I knew, because if she was still here, it’s what she would have wanted for me.”
The colt’s eyes flickered with… was that compassion?  But when Octavia focused in, the spark was gone, and the emptiness greeted her again.
“That’s very nice.  I didn’t know.”
“Why do you care?  What’s so important about the details, anyway?”
“I find them interesting.”
“But what is it that you need to know?  What are you trying to get at?”
“I need to know what you are feeling.  That’s part of the deal.”
Tavi just could not win with this colt.  He knew her life’s story already, and she didn’t even know his name.  Even though she was uncomfortable around him to the point of hyperventilating, her heart fought her better judgment, told her that this pony can be trusted.  It was this feeling that scared her most.
“I’ll… I’ll do it.  Tonight.”
“Really?  You’re ready?”
“Yes.  I owe it to my mother to do everything I can, even if Vinyl has to suffer.  But I think she’ll understand.”
“Come again?” The colt’s eyes narrowed and the atmosphere created by Octavia’s reminiscing disappeared instantly and gave way to hostility.
“I’m telling Vinyl everything.  About you, and what you’re making me do.”
“No you won’t.”
“Oh, yes I will!”  Octavia rose to her hooves, towered over the colt as he calmly crossed his forelegs.
“No, you won’t.  In fact, you aren’t going to tell a soul about me.”
Just as quickly as she rose, the grey pony fell back into her chair in a slump.  He was right.  She couldn’t tell anypony about this.  What would she say, anyway?  It was all too fantastic, nopony would ever believe it.
“Can you at least make sure that Vinyl will forgive me?”
The colt looked down and peered into his book.  He shook his head.  “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Well, I thought it was implied.  I don’t want her to be mad at me.”
“You did not mention this when we made our deal.  There is no promise she will forgive you.  Besides, there are consequences for doing what you’re doing.”
“Destroying a turntable?”
“It’s more than just a turntable.”
“What?  I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“You can’t just come to me and not affect somepony—everypony—around you.  You came to me to make the impossible happen.  To defy fate.  Don’t think the cosmos will forgive you so easily.”
“For destroying a turntable?”
“For destroying the universe.”
.....................................................................................................................................
The cheerful sound of bells rang through the store as Pipsqueak trotted into Sugarcube Corner.  He never came into such a wonderful place full of delicious sights and smells.  But he couldn’t be distracted now; he needed to focus on his mission!
He ran up to an older pony sitting in the corner booth, a pony he overheard Cheerilee talking to Zecora about.  He was a magician; he knew all kinds of magic.  But he didn’t look like any magician he ever saw before.  For one, he wasn’t wearing a hat.  His book of spells was also very sloppy and well-worn, sitting right next to him with a rip right through the middle of the cover.  Instead of on a stage, he sat almost lazily in a corner booth tucked out of view.
“Captain Pipsqueak here, sir!”
The colt broke away from his pie in search for where the voice came from.  Pipsqueak hated being so small.  “Excuse me, down here!”  Finally, the colt looked over the table and found the source of the voice.
The colt smiled at him.  “Hello there, little one.  Are you lost?”
“No sir, I’m here to ask the magician for help.”
The colt face was no longer smiling at him.  Did he say something wrong?
“Oh…no.  No no no.”
“But you help ponies, I heard Cheerilee say—“
“Forget what you heard.  Go home.”
“But I need help, we have a really hard test coming up and I need you to help me pass it.”
“Look, kid…”  His voice was so quiet, yet suddenly Pipsqueak felt like he was looking into the eyes of a pony who could do bad things to him just as easily as eat his pie.  “…do you have any idea what happens when ponies make a deal with me?”
“They… they get what they want.”  Pipsqueak fought back tears.  Captains didn’t cry.
“They change the world.”
“But all I want is to do good on my test.”
The dark colt came down to Pipsqueak’s eye level.  They were nearly face to face.  Pipsqueak didn’t want to do this anymore.  He wanted to run—run as far away as he could from this scary colt.  But every time he told his hooves to move, they wouldn’t; he was paralyzed by his inequine stare.  “That’s what you say.  But once you change one thing, where does the change stop?”
.....................................................................................................................................
Pinkie barely saw the small brown pony (his name was Pipsqueak, right?) dash out the door.  She was sure that he would buy something, why else would he come here?  She also noticed the colt in the corner.  He needed someone to talk to.  His tired head was set on his hoof, holding it in place just above the table.  He sighed deeply, as if he just did something he regretted.  She really should talk to him.  Maybe she could find out more about that book.
The pink cloud of a pony bounced her way to the colt, whose back was toward her.  He didn’t respond.
“Why the long face?”
No answer.
“Was Pipsqueak coming in here to talk to you?”
No answer.
“Hmm… I see, and what did he want?”
Silence.  He turned his head away, facing the wall opposite her.  Pinkie knew something was wrong.  “You don’t need to be so secretive, just open up; you never know who can be a good friend.  Okay?”
The bouncing pink cloud that walked over to the corner came back dark and gloomy, unsure how to befriend the strange pony in that booth.  She was running out of options.
“Opera.”
What was that?  Could it be…? Pinkie turned around to find that the colt had done the same.  His eyes were not looking at her, rather towards the ground.  She knew that he was just shy; he must not have very many friends.
“What did you say?”
“You asked what music I like.  Before.  I like opera.”
He answered!  There was hope yet!  And as her hope grew, so did her grin.  She walked back to the kitchen with an extra hop in her already springy step.  Too bad you couldn’t ask about the book, she thought to herself.  They didn’t like waiting, even for her.
.....................................................................................................................................
“I did it!”
“You did now?”
“I sure did!  Now you want to hear about it, right?”
“Please,” as he automatically readied his book and pencil.
“Well, I looked everywhere in Canterlot, and I mean everywhere!  I helped out all the ponies I could, but then I saw her; a poor little filly, no older than 3.  She was crying.  It looked like her parents forgot about her, because she was sitting there in the middle of the plaza crying.  I knew it had to be the pony I was supposed to help!”
“And?”
Applebloom cleared her voice, wanting the colt to clearly hear the next part of her story, “Well, I HELPED her!  I went over to her, was able to stop her crying, and we walked around the plaza for at least an hour, but we found her parents.  They were looking for her, too, and I helped them find each other!”
“Well,” the colt closed his book, “It looks like we are done here.”  He turned his attention to his daisy sandwich, leaving Applebloom sitting across the table with a worried look growing on her face.
“But what about my cutie mark?”
The colt looked up with his mouth wide open, inches from taking his first bite.  “What is that?”
I don’t have my cutie mark!  See?”  She stood up, and showed the colt briefly her rear.  She was right; it was as blank as the day she came in to meet him.
“I see… you are not done.”
“Yes I am, I helped somepony!”
“Then you did not help the right pony.”
“No, I did!  She was the pony, I know it!”
“If you had helped the pony, you would have your cutie mark.”
“YOU PROMISED!  GIVE ME MY CUTIE MARK NOW!”  Applebloom was usually more calm and level headed, but she was Applejacks sister, and this colt was asking for a bucking.
“I cannot give you a cutie mark, nopony has that power.  You know this already.”
“But you promised to give me my cutie mark if I—“
“I didn’t promise to give you anything.  I told you that if you helped this pony, you would get your cutie mark.”  He eyed her, and she felt every word hit her square in the chest as he said his next sentence: “Whether or not you get your cutie mark is up to you.”  His eyes stayed trained on her.  It had occurred to Applebloom that she was forgetting to breathe.
She sighed.  “But I’ve looked everywhere in Canterlot, and nopony needs help!”
The colt sighed, and placed his uneaten sandwich back on the table.  “Then you haven’t looked everywhere.”
.....................................................................................................................................
He stared at her mane.  Did it naturally grow in six colors, perfectly parted like that?  He was never one to be curious about mundane things, but he had never seen this phenomenon in a pony before.
Rainbow Dash had just gotten back from her shift in the weather department in Cloudsdale.  Today they discussed with safely handling a storm cloud, but more importantly, she talked to Scootaloo.
“I invited her over to my house.  To spend the night, I mean.”
“You’re serious about this?”
Dash still wasn’t comfortable with it.  “Yes.  It needs to be done.”
“Need… that’s a very interesting word.”  The colt looked up at some imaginary cloud floating above Rainbow’s shoulder.  She looked, but there was nothing there.  When she turned back around, her eyes met his, locking her gaze in his.  “You need to be a Wonderbolt, and you want not to hurt Scootaloo.”
“What are you saying?  I’m the Element of Loyalty; I am always loyal to my friends!”
“And loyalty is a fickle things at times… you don’t have to go through with this.  You know that right?  Everything you do is your choice, and your choice alone.”
“I need to be a Wonderbolt.”
‘I can see that.”  He sighed.  “Then, tonight?”
“Yes.  I can’t keep waiting, or I’ll back out.”
“And how are you going to do it?”
“My cloud home is pretty secluded and soundproof, so nopony will hear her or see her.  And I heard that very wet cloud pieces can asphyxiate a pony if it’s inhaled… it’ll be a quick and clean death.  No mess, and she’ll drift to sleep.”
The colt, as always, was writing his ever mysterious notes in his book.  “So, after this is all done… what do you plan to do?”
“Become a Wonderbolt!  That’s what!  I’ll finally have what I want.”
“Want… need… I’d caution you not to go through with this, Miss Dash.”
Dash was shocked.  What was he saying, and why now?  “No, I already made up my mind.  It’s the only way, you said so yourself!”
“You’d be surprised at how little I know.”
“No, you’re just trying to stop me!  Just like my father!  Just like anypony whose ever told me I couldn’t!  I’m going to be a Wonderbolt no matter what!”  She has hysteric.  Everypony in Sugarcube Corner stared at the red faced pony as she bolted to the front door and kicked the door open with a loud CRACK!  As she flew to her solitary cloud in the sky, the colt bowed his head.  It gently swayed from side to side.  “So naïve.”
.....................................................................................................................................
“Can I warn the visitors and workers that something is going to happen?”
“No.”
“Can I give the nurses the day off?”
“No.”
“Can I do anything about the other ponies?”
“No.”
Celestia was already fighting herself, forcing her hoof to participate in this abominable act, and the colt was not making things any easier.  She had hoped to clear out the hospice before she bomb went off, try to reduce the number of casualties to the bare minimum, those who were terminal already.  As for those who would perish, she hoped that their sacrifice would not be in vain.
“Just tell me… how is it that you plan to kill Discord.  If you can guarantee his death, then I’ll do it.”
“Princess, I won’t do anything.  I can’t do anything.  But if you do this, Discord will die.  No exceptions.”  The princess was still not convinced.  Her face betrayed her doubt when she bit her lower lip.  The colt continued; “Celestia, if you are so adamant about bring about Discord’s death, why not do it yourself?”
Celestia let her ever-flowing mane drop in front of her face.  She was ashamed.  But it had to be done.  For the good of Equestria.  “I have lived for a thousand years.  I inherited my royalty from those who came before us.  When I became a princess, along with Luna, we were shown the flow of the universe.  Fate, for a lack of better words; the fate of the land, and everypony in it.  They showed us the balance, the delicate nature.  They instructed us that every choice we make can affect the flow of the universe, and we have no way of knowing how much will change.
“They made us take an oath.  We would never directly take the life of anypony who was one of the Ancient Times.  They were too vital to the flow of the universe.  Discord, Nightmare Moon, even Chrysalis… my hooves are bound.  All I can do is delay their threat.”  This was why she needed him.  She could never take his life directly, but if he just happened to die, there would be no fault on her part.
The colt leaned in.  She had never seen him look so animated; he nodded his head at every word she said.  His eyes egged her to continue.
“But if you took his life, and all I did was… that,” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words ‘murder 26 ponies in cold blood’, “… then YOU would kill him, not me.  No laws would be broken.”
His optimistic eyes quickly emptied, and before she knew it he was the statue she knew he was.  She almost felt like he was disappointed in her choice.  Who was he to judge her, this monster?  She was working for the good of her people!
“If that’s your choice…”
“It is.”
“Then… when do you plan on doing this?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Then we have nothing more to discuss.”
.....................................................................................................................................
Applebloom quickly and quietly slipped into Sugarcube Corner and drifted to the colt in the corner.  He watched her move, a shadow in a bustling little café, nopony ever noticing her.  Something was wrong.  Was she being followed?  He gasped; did they find him?
She sat down across from the colt covering her face with her hoof.
“What’s wrong?”
“My family.  They’re looking for me.”
“What happened?”
Applebloom sighed.  “I didn’t mean for them to find out, but they read my diary.  They could somehow sense that something wasn’t right.  But they found out about you.  Granny Smith knows who you are, and forbid me from associating with you ever again.
“They’ve also stopped letting me take shipments to Canterlot.”
The colt was not writing anything in his book.  This surprised her; he seemed so out of character without a pencil scribbling on paper.  “And now you’re…?”
“I’m running away.  I don’t care what they say; I know you can get me my cutie mark.”
“Remember, I do nothing.  But shouldn’t you listen to your family?”
“I found her.”
The colt stopped.  “What?”
“I found the pony—the actual pony I’m supposed to help.  Her name is Sundance.  We met in the Canterlot market.  She told me I looked just like her granddaughter.”  Applebloom fought with her tears, she didn’t want to cry in front of the colt.  She needed to be strong.  “She asked me to stay with her while she dies.”
“While she dies?”  Even the colt was confused, she could tell.
“She is terminally ill.  While she seems healthy, she has a rare condition… but she is going to die tomorrow.  She wanted someone to stay with her, she has no family here, and the hospice workers are not the nicest ponies to be with—“
“Hospice?”
“Yes, she’s staying in the Canterlot Hospice.”  Applebloom stopped.  The colt was acting different.  His mouth hung slightly agape, a look of incredulousness in his eyes.  “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, and with a few shakes he managed to rid himself of all previous signs of emotion.  “Nothing.”
“I need to help her.  But my family won’t let me go.  So… I’m running away.  Just for a day, so I can help Sundance and get my cutie mark.  I mean, I don’t have any other choices.”
The colt just stared at her silently.  “No… I guess you don’t.”
“Then… this is goodbye, Mr. Colt.  Thank you.”  She extended her hoof.  He did not move.  Even after all the times she seen him, he still resembled a lifeless statue.   After a moment, her hoof returned to her side, and she made to the door.
“Applebloom!”
She turned around.  It was the colt.
“Goodbye.”
.....................................................................................................................................
“Wow, we’ve had quite a busy day today!  I’m glad to see that you’re enjoying yourself, Mr. Colt!”
He was quiet as ever, but Pinkie Pie grew used to it.  She tried to say hi to him at least every day now.  Waiting for the right moment to ask.
“So… what’s that book you’re reading over there?” she asked, pointing her head to his side.
“It’s not for reading.”
“Oh, I see… then it’s an instruction book!”
The colt’s eyes darted toward her.  “What did you say?”
“It has to be an instruction book, if you don’t read it for fun!”
He didn’t respond.
“What did you say you did for a job, Mr. Colt?  You sit there every day, talking to lots of different ponies, I wonder why.”
He stared out the window.
“Ooh, so much mystery… you know Mr. Colt, one of these days I’m going to have to read that book of yours!”
As she laughed, the colt felt his eyes involuntarily looking back to the pink mare.  Something was different.  She was the same bubbly pony that came in every day, same giggle and smile.  But her eyes… he stared into them, but they weren’t as friendly as he remembered.  They felt so empty.