The Offer
As the warm, noon sun shone brightly over the calm and peaceful little hamlet of Lightenburg, an upright, hunched creature with a large, ragged pack over his bony shoulders was currently walking through it, passing house after house and pony after pony. The occasional passerby would give a wary glance to the squat being, having never seen such a gaunt figure before, but that was the furthest they would delve into that which was not their business.
This being was no pony, goat, or anything of that sort though. He was a daemon who went by the name of Mephistopheles, or 'Mephisto', as he was known around what nonexistent friends he had, and this designation was actually one of many more names than just that. The very one he currently used wasn't his real name; the answer to that question was a riddle for the ages. His supernaturally thin, hunched, skeletal visage was wreathed in a dark, tattered cloak, exposing only his two phenomenally long and thick-looking horns that adorned his brow like a crown, and the red eyes that flashed out of it like candles. As he shambled on like the frail old soul his current visage gave off, the wares consisting of junk and strange-looking objects sticking out of pockets and racks on his giant pack rattled together like off-tune chimes.
Daemons; excruciatingly rare near-mythical beings not native to this plane of existence, could have varying natures of attitude and personality, and Mephistopheles was a daemon with a particularly vexing one. His favorite hobby when not traveling through this world like a vagabond was making insidious deals with the creatures in it, preferably the ones he thought were having it a little too good. Of course he rarely ever did this, but because of what he was exactly, it meant he had as much time on his side to indulge in this habit for as long as he liked it.
In his bargains with the mortals, he liked to wager things for precious items. The most common of these was typically a one-of-a-kind object, something of excessive rarity, or family heirlooms of irreplaceable value. However, not all of these transactions were harmless. If there was anything he loved more than forging contracts to acquire physical goods, it was making pacts that gambled for the opposition's very soul. What he did with the soul after winning them and taking them back to his plane of existence with him, no pony knew or wished to find out.
It just so happened that it was one of those days where he was in the mood to make such a deal. And his beady red eyes had their sights set on a certain, greatly-beloved pony by the name of Faust Epona; a pony whose house he was now approaching at a palpable snail's pace.
Her house; a wonderful, comfy little cottage, sat just outside of the dirt path that formed a three-turned crossroads, with signs posted that pointed in separate directions to the town, the nearby forest, and a path leading to the neighboring city of Windfall.
Unlike most, Faust was an alicorn, and a scholarly writer at that. She had earned the respected, regal form from the sheer amount of inspiration her written works manifested in their readers, which even helped to influence an end to a southern war between earth ponies and zebras. Faust was the 'Princess of Arts' as she had been called by a great many. She humbly turned down any offer of higher power though, fearing that ruling wasn't her shtick, and so stuck to her current lifestyle.
Mephistopheles rubbed the thin, four-fingered hands adorning his forearms together with malicious glee. Through the powers that be, he knew she had also become somewhat tired with her lonely, and mostly uneventful lifestyle. She wanted more inspiration, but for herself. That inspiration had taken the form of a fantasy about going on a wonderful adventure questing across the countryside, helping others in need. But, she knew she could not, for even as an alicorn her magical powers were not the strongest. And that's what convinced the wretched creature that was now outside her door of what he wanted to do.
Inside and at the desk in her study, Faust was writing another story. As she finished the next chapter Faust turned the page of her latest work, but before she could start anew, a loud knocking went out behind her. The white-furred, brownish-reddish-maned alicorn quietly placed her feather pen down, left her desk, and instantly trotted up to it. She unlocked the door and opened it just a crack.
"Hello?" she asked, peering out. She was sent aback in surprise once she sighted the being on her doorstep, but quickly regained her composure.
"Um... who might you be?" she asked, after clearing her throat.
"Me? My name is Mephistopheles," he bluntly stated in a light, and somewhat raspy tone, bowing his head in respect. "I am but a humble daemon from a far-off land, and I must admit, it is a resounding honor to make your acquaintance, Miss Faust."
"Daemon?" she inquired, in a tone filled with immediate caution. "I've not met one before. I thought your kind was part of some myth created ages ago."
"That may seem true, but there are still a few of us here, hiding under rocks, flying in the sky, or forging our own realms in the deepest recesses of the world. May I... step inside? I have walked for a great many miles to reach here, and my feet urge that I rest them."
Faust gave an unsure look as she thought things over. He seemed innocent enough, and as far as she knew, the creature had no reason to cause her harm.
"Very well, you may come in," she allowed. Nodding his head in appreciation, Mephistopheles set his large pack down on the grassy ground with a surprisingly loud and heavy thump, and limped into the abode as she opened the door fully for him.
"Why would you come to visit me?" the alicorn asked, after closing the door with a click of the handle.
"Because I have heard of the plight that has befallen you," he answered, stepping deeper into the house until he found an empty chair. As he sat himself down in it, Faust curled her brow.
"Plight?" she wondered aloud. "Please tell me why you see that." Mephistopheles loosed a grin that revealed some of his face and the sharp, misshapen teeth inhabiting it.
"Are you not satisfied with your life? Do you long for excitement, intrigue, and adventure most grand and monumental to grace your senses?" asked he, in a fairly polite tone.
The alicorn paused as she looked to the being; its far-too-large horns swinging to and fro from behind its cloaked head as it let out a quiet, gurgling chuckle. She hummed; "I may have wishes to partake in such wondrous things. By the sound of it, you are trying to say that you can help to provide such feats of grandeur?"
He cackled in a chummy tone; "I can provide grandeur of an excelsior quality, and more! All that must be partaken to gain such an acquisition is to perform a blood pact with me, and listen closely to the catch that comes along with it."
"You... you request that I to make a pact based on your blood. That already is starting to sound most ominous..." Faust paused again and thought for a moment. "But... you also stated there was a catch to this. Please, I implore you to explain this."
"A catch? A catch! A catch, of course!" the creature mused. "I can offer you my services to make your dreams a reality and help those you deem in need, but it comes at a price, and that price is a wager. You see, if my requirements are met fully and recognizably completed by the end of the next twenty-four years; as in, the next full cycle of your world's natural twenty-four years from the moment we agree... I gain possession of your immortal soul, forever and unto eternity, until time itself becomes naught but ash in the winds of chaos and nothing."
Faust's teal eyes widened at this rather blunt revelation, but he went on. "But... if you outsmart me and overcome the demands set in place, or if I back down from my own gamble out of conceding defeat, the deal will become voided and I shall grant you one, simple wish, dear Faust. And that wish can be used to spend all the power that is mine. It can defy logic and reason, it can break from reality itself if you will it, and it will be permanently yours, but only if you manage to accomplish such a task."
"I have much reason to back out and say 'no' to your offer. What words can an aberration like yourself use to sway me now?"
"I shall provide you with a contract," the creature responded, raising a claw. "It shall bear three terms you may impart that gives you as much of a chance to win this contest as I. The contract itself will give you full permission and power to use my services as you will it, and for whatever reason that is within my natural strength, once per day and henceforth from the moment you agree with said contract. Earthly pleasures? Limitless knowledge? Gold? Power? Fame most divine? Your own castle, country, and world? A dog? A cat? A manticore? All possible with but a measly signature of it."
With a puff of smoke, a scroll of normal-looking paper appeared and began floating above his gnarled, clawed hand. "You may read it over and think of what three terms you might wish to impart upon its surface, and then choose the way you want it to be fully completed. If those three terms and the end requirement are indeed accomplished during my time with you, the contract will be fulfilled."
As the paper remained in the air, the daemon then let out a cackle and rubbed his hands together again. "So, my newest associate... what is your final opinion of my terms? Are they not fair? Have you found a flaw in its making? Do tell."
Faust smirked sarcastically. "Fair they are, and interested I am, but the price seems a bit too... eh... extravagant for me, for lack of a better word of course."
He floated the contract to her until she caught it in a telekinetic grasp. "I shall wait a day for your answer," he said. "If you decide to disagree, I shall go about on my merry way. If you do decide to agree, I ask that you think over your terms carefully."
"And that I will," she responded in kind. As the alicorn began to look over the piece of writing, Mephistopheles stood his twisted form up, turned about, and began to hobble away in preparation to leave.
"I shall come by tomorrow in the morn," he said, "when the first daylight breaks, the sixth strike of the bell commences, and the rooster crows, we shall meet at the crossroads beside your home. Farewell for now, Faust my dear..."
And so, through the door from whence he came, the being left.