//------------------------------//
// The Gifts 
// Story: Finding Destiny 
// by grendal 
//------------------------------//

Rarity was at a loss for words, a state she was almost never in. So, when words did finally come, they came in a flood. “This, can’t be! I’ve never heard of a pony with no cutie mark. I mean, except for foals of course. And some young fillies and colts. Are you some kind of impossibly large child? No, that’s absurd. Maybe it was that dreadful spell that erases cutie marks, or some kind of disease. Have you ever eaten Hearts Desire? I can remember it doing awful things to poor Applebloom. And there was that time we all swapped cutie marks…” Fluttershy placed a hoof over Rarity’s mouth, shaking her head as she pointed towards an increasingly shrinking Stewtary. “Oh. Sorry dear.” Rarity said abashed.

                “I-it’s o-okay. N-n-nopony really kn-knows what t-t-t-to say the f-first t-time they f-find out.” Stewtary said. He was used to these sorts of reactions. In fact, most ponies just chose to pretend he didn’t exist rather than acknowledge the truth he might represent. The idea that somepony wasn’t special flew in the face of what everypony is taught from the time they are born. Stewtary looked at Rarity, still aghast at what she was seeing, then at Fluttershy, who couldn’t seem to bring herself to look him in the eye, and he sighed. “I-I understand w-w-what this m-means to p-p-ponies. Th-thank y-you f-for everyth-th-thing. I’ll s-s-save y-you the t-trouble and k-keep l-l-l-looking f-for a sh-shirt s-somewhere e-e-else.” Stewtary draped his cloak back across his flank and began leaving the room. Despite everything that just happened, these were still the two kindest ponies he had ever met. Fluttershy and Rarity had shown a level of kindness Stewtary was not used to. He would carry these memories with fondness forever.

                “Wait.” Fluttershy flittered over to Stewtary and placed a hoof on his chest to stop him from leaving. “It didn’t matter what your cutie mark was when you saved Mr. Cheesers, and it doesn’t matter now. It may not show on your flank, but you are special to Mr. Cheesers and I because you are our friend. Please stay, and let us help you get ready for your interview. That’s what friends do.”

                Stewtary was floored. Nopony was this kind, not ever. It must be some sort of trap. It had to be. And yet there was no malice in Fluttershy’s eyes, no sting of insincerity to her words. For a long moment Stewtary just stared at his new friend in disbelief. “D-do y-y-you m-mean it?” he finally managed to ask.

                “Of course she does dear.” Rarity chimed in, unshed tears welling up in her eyes. “Any friend of Fluttershy is a friend of mine. Besides, I simply cannot abide the thought of you going to the castle in that ratty old thing. Fashion will not stand for it!”

                This was a truly touching moment in Stewtary’s life. His heart welled with emotion for these two mares, and he would have gladly basked in that feeling forever. But the newly refocused Rarity had other plans. “Th-thank y-y-you…” was all Stewtary managed to say before being swept up in a field of magic and cloth.

                “Nonsense dear, it’s nothing. Now hold still, there is much to do if we are to get you ready in time. Perhaps something classic, with a couple bold new designs to catch the eye. We’ll use these lapis and; Fluttershy darling? Can you fetch me a rose?” Rarity was once again doing a million things at once, there would be no stopping her now.

                Stewtary felt like a whole new stallion as he trotted out of Canterlot Carousel. The suit he was now wearing was dashing. It was a deep charcoal black scrawled with floral patterns in a slightly shinier black, with beautiful lapis lazuli sown on as buttons. White lacey frills spilled out at his neck, and a bright red rose had been affixed to his lapel. Despite Rarity’s complaints at not having enough time to really make Stewtary stand out, he suspected few ponies in all Equestria would own a suit quite so dashing. He waved farewell to the two mares and hurried towards Canterlot Castle. I can’t thank you enough, my new friends. Stewtary smiled to himself, he was still not over the fact that he had friends now. What seemed like just another terrible day had quickly turned into the best day of his life. He felt as though anything was possible now.

                Canterlot Castle was massive. It always looked large, seemingly carved out of the mountain looming over Canterlot. But now that he was inside, Stewtary felt like the castle was somehow even larger than it ever was on the outside. The ceilings were vaulted to dizzying heights, and each room seemed to sprawl out into absurdity. Of course, the castle was a buzz with its own comings and goings as ponies prepared it for the Grand Galloping Gala. Maids and valets ran about hanging decorations and cleaning furiously. It seemed chaotic, but it was rather like watching startled birds take flight. Each pony working for the castle seemed to be doing jobs at random but if watched closely, nopony ever bumped into each other or repeated a job somepony else had already done. It was a beautiful chaos. Stewtary smiled at one of the valets, he was excited to potentially join their ranks.

                Stewtary had spent the last year as a custodian for the school of magic in Canterlot. He found it difficult to keep a job, being both clumsy and anti-social. It was hard to do much of anything in Equestria with those particularly deadly set of traits. But custodial work was a decent fit. He rarely had to interact with other ponies outside of being told what to do, and any mess he made he was paid to clean up. Plus, he had liked being in the magic school. All the young unicorns regarded him with a sort of apprehensive tolerance, which was about as close to friendship as Stewtary had come before today. But when his boss told him about a few valet positions opening up in the palace, Stewtary felt he had to try. The pay was better, of course, but more than that; Stewtary felt like working in the palace would be the height of his social standing. To him, being a valet would be well beyond anything he had ever dreamed he could do.

                An older mare sat at a desk in the centre of the large hall where Stewtary had been told the interviews would be. She was a severe looking pony, her mane was streaked with white from her age and tied into a bun. A pair of half-framed glasses were perched at the edge of her nose and were fastened about her neck with a fine gold chain. All of that coupled with the dowdy purple dress she wore lent to making her look very intimidating. Without looking up from the papers she was writing on she said, “Can I help you?” her tone flat and emotionless.

                Stewtary swallowed the lump building in his throat. “M-my n-n-name is St-St-St-Stewtary M-Mess, and I’m here f-for the j-j-job i-int-terv-v-view.” With each word the confidence Rarity’s suit had given him faded. The mare set aside her papers to coolly regard Stewtary. Her stare seemed to bore deep into Stewtary, weighing him, searching the darkest recesses of his mind. Stewtary was beginning to feel strangely violated when the mare abruptly pointed towards one side of the room.

                “Wait over there Mr. Mess. I’ll call your name when they are ready to see you.” The mare said before she went back to her paperwork. Stewtary got a vague impression like a door had just been slammed in his face. Clearly there was nothing more the mare wished to say, so Stewtary slunk off to the side of the room indicated to him.

                There were a few other ponies on the opposite side of the room from Stewtary. More than one of them had a mop, or broom, or other cleaning related cutie marks. Competition would be fierce, and Stewtary had very little to offer. A year of experience could hardly compare with some of the other ponies, he was sure, and many of them had cleaning as their special talent. Not to mention the fact that Stewtary was awful at interviews. Talking at length about himself was always disastrous. He struggled to talk under the best of circumstances, with the most interesting of topics. But this was a platform where he was being judged, and the topic couldn’t be more boring. Stewtary was suddenly struck by the fact that he was the only pony on his side of the room. Why had he been singled out like that? Was it good? Was it bad?! What if they already knew he wasn’t a fit for this job? What if he was put on this side of the room to be shamed and ridiculed by the other ponies?

The massive room seemed to collapse in on Stewtary, and the lace around his neck felt stifling, as if it would at any moment stop his breathing completely. Stewtary’s eyes rolled frantically in their sockets, suddenly aware of each pony in the room. Every glance his way felt like a judgmental glower, like their eyes were crawling over his fur and finding him wanting. Each giggle was a mocking laugh, a deafening sound shattering Stewtary's ear drums. Every whisper a scathing indictment cut through him like he had been whipped. The room grew hotter, and sweat came off Stewtary like he was a sprinkler. There was no way he could do this. Stewtary tensed up and ready himself to bolt from the room at full speed. He was fully panicking, and other ponies were beginning to notice. Stewtary's breaths came as laboured gasps as his forelegs buckled under the weight of the collapsing room. This time he wouldn't be running away, this time Stewtary would just die on the floor.

Just as Stewtary felt he was gulping in his last breaths, a familiar paw touched his ear. Stewtary looked up at Mr. Cheesers, who smiled back down at Stewtary. It seemed the mouse had smuggled himself into the palace by ridding in Stewtary’s mane again. A wave of calm washed over the stallion, a strength he had never felt before. He wouldn’t have to face this alone, he had a friend by his side. On his head. Whatever. A friend was with him! “Th-thank you, M-Mr. Cheesers.” Stewtary whispered. The mouse patted Stewtary’s head in response. His legs were still a bit wobbly, but Stewtary managed to get back up onto his hooves. Parts of him still screamed to run, but the strength he got from his mouse friend was enough to keep him rooted in place.
 
               “Mr. Mess, they are ready to see you now.” The severe mare called. Stewtary squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He was ready to see them too.