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// 1 - The Confectioner 
// Story: The Chocolatier 
// by LordBucket 
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It was half past noon without a single customer at the candy shop before the front door bell jingled and a large unicorn trotted in. A Canterlot unicorn, the proprieter judged, from his manner and build.

"Welcome to Bonbon's Bon-bon's," she greeted. "How may I help you?"

"Hello," her guest smiled, before his look turned serious. "I apologize if I'm the bearer of bad news, Miss Bonbon. But there's a dreadfully persistent rumor going around town about you."

"A rumor?" Bonbon gulped. "About me?"

"Indeed," he noddly gravely. "I've spoken to nearly half a dozen shopkeepers in the Ponyville market, and every single one of them simply insists that you're this town's premier confectioner."

"Oh!" she giggled in relief at the unexpected compliment. "I'd certainly like to think so. Though honestly I do a lot less business than Sugarcube Corner. Even if they're really more of a bakery than a candy store. "

"I actually just came from there," the unicorn nodded as he inspected the various colorful hard-candies under glass. "A certain Miss Pinkie Pie assured me that you'd be spectacularly better able to provide what I'm looking for than she possibly could."

"And what's that?"

The unicorn looked up. "Chocolate," he answered plainly. "Not chocolate cake, not chocolate frosting, not cupcakes with chocolate-flavored sugar paste or chocolate-flavored sprinkles on top. Not hot chocolate, not chocolate mousse, not chocolate ice cream or chocolate fudge, not imitation or fake or in any way artificial chocolate. Real chocolate."

"Oh," Bonbon frowned. "I'd love to help, really. But I just don't get very much demand for it and it's not something I can casually whip up. I have to import cocoa beans either from-"

"North Zebrica or South Amareica," he finished. "Cacao trees require a very specific equatorial climate. It's not nearly warm or humid enough here."

"Exactly," she smiled, pleased to have a customer who understood her trade. "What's your name, by the way, if you don't mind me asking."

He extended a hoof. "Ambient Stars. It's a pleasure."

She touched his hoof and glanced at his cutie mark. An apparently random bunch of stars and swirls she vaguely recognized as being some sort of talent for magic. She'd never learned to distinguish unicorn marks very well. Far too symbolic. Earth pony marks were thankfully intuitive. A mark showing a specific fruit or vegetable? That was invariably a talent for growing or maybe cooking the pictured fruit or vegetable. A cake or pie or even a candy mark like her own? That meant a talent for making or occasionally for eating said food item. Pegasus marks were similarly intuitive. Clouds or lighting had to do with weather, angled strokes usually indicated speed or maneuverability, and even if she was unfamiliar with the details of how clouds or rain or weather worked, it was usually obvious what a particular mark meant a pegasus was good at. But unicorn marks tended to be so terribly symbolic. Something so simple as an hourglass might indicate a talent for dentistry, or a few gems might indicate a talent for overreaction. If only they worked like any sane cutie mark should, then clearly the stars and swirls on this unicorn's flanks should indicate a talent for...growing, she supposed, stars and swirls. Or cooking or eating them, perhaps? But based on her experience, as likely as not they actually indicated a talent for levitating bread without the butter side falling down, or locating estranged cats, or some such. Unicorns had never made much sense to Bonbon; her one friend with a thankfully understandable lyre cutie mark being no exception. But cutie mark or no, this unicorn was asking about chocolate. And chocolate was a thing she understood.

"So what brings a Canterlot unicorn like yourself all the way to Ponyville just to ask a small-town candy maker like me for chocolate?"

"Is it that obvious?" he sighed. "I went out of my way to not wear clothes. I was hoping to blend in."

"Body language gave you away," she explained. "It's the ears. Hard to mistake that Canterlot flip. Even in overalls and mud up to your ears, anypony in Ponyville would still be able to pick you out of a crowd the moment they saw you hear them speak."

"Well, I suppose it's no secret," he shrugged. "I'm here all summer on a research project. It's very delicate work and the background magic in Canterlot tends to overwhelm thaumeters of the sensitivity my project requires. I'd submitted a request to Celestia's school for time in one of their abjuration chambers when Princess Twilight caught wind of the project. She wrote to me a few days ago asking me to come demonstrate my methods for her. If she approves of the safety protocols I'm using, she's offered to personally conjure up a class four permanent anti-magic barrier here in Ponyville in exchange simply for the opportunity to observe the results of my experiments before I submit them for peer review. That was too good an offer to refuse, so here I am."

"I don't know anything about unicorn magic," Bonbon admitted, "or for that matter what half those words you just used even mean. But how does chocolate fit into this?"

Ambient laughed. "No, the chocolate's for me! Call me pampered if you will, but I'm not about to let a little research project keep me away from the finer things in life."

Bonbon grinned. In Ponyville, it was typical for zap apple jam or Apple family cider to be considered "fine cuisine." And from a Canterlot pony, she might reasonably expect a love of wine or cheese. But a connoisseur of chocolate? That was enough to make her week.

"Let me see what I can do," she offered. "Cocoa beans are hard to come by, but there's a trader who comes through Ponyville every month or so, and I'm expecting her next week. I can't guarantee she'll have any, but she knows I'm a buyer when they're available. I'd give it at least fifty-fifty."

"Well then, Miss Bonbon," he nodded politely, "I look forward to making your acquaintance again in the future. It's been a pleasure."

"And for me as well, Mr. Stars."

"No need to be so formal," he smiled as he pushed open the door to leave, his horn aglow. "Call me Ambient."

The smile on Bonbon's face remained long after the door jingle signaled his departure.