Celestia looked down at her finished work. It was no masterpiece, but it was never intended to be. She was curious about how it would be received by her little ponies, and a part of her regretted making it for an audience so young.
After a hundred years, the story had morphed so far from the truth that even this would be closer than the ones her little ponies told. The most accurate account existed in her mind; what she had done burned it into her memory like a hot iron.
A foal's storybook sat on her desk, written and illustrated by herself. She was no artist, but she had learned enough to get by over her lifetime. The cover showed a smiling mare trotting through an older, picturesque Manehattan. She was loaded down with absurdly large saddlebags filled well beyond the limit with masks of all sorts.
"The Happy Mask Salesmare by Princess Celestia"
Perhaps the cheerful cover and name had been a step too far towards deception. Celestia opened the first page and glanced at it, but quickly turned to the last. The thick pages, more like boards than paper, made pictures across two pages nearly seamless. Taking up the whole of the last two pages was the Mask that colt had made. The cursed thing would soon bring nightmares to Equestria's foals once the book was published, just as it had given to her.
She hoped Luna would forgive her transgression upon her return.
The city of Manehattan did not always a sprawl,
It was once a small hamlet, most quaint and quite small.
The Happy Mask Salesmare had strolled into town,
Masks she had aplenty, more than even a clown.
She set up shop, "Any mask for a price!"
Most wanted costumes, but some wanted vice.
Her masks held power. More power, more cost.
Madness ensued, and order was tossed.
Then one day, in walked a foal.
"Power I want, I'll sell you my soul!"
"One so young has no need for such might!"
Go back to your parents, I'm sure they miss you quite right!"
"It's not for me, for I am no fool,
It is for one who is 'oft most cruel."
"A bully you have? No such power you need."
"Take something else!" she did desperately plead.
"That mask I require. You must honor your code."
A mask for a price, or so I am told."
"Then take your mask, but this I decree!"
"Once the mask is on, your soul belongs to me!"
The Maskmare was frightened, her mind distraught.
"Surely no one will buy it." Or so she had thought.
The foal left grimly, soul on loan.
The price did not matter, a pony must atone.
A trap was laid where the thug would look,
The foal sitting alone; with the mask by a brook.
"What are you doing, sitting here with a mask like that?"
"Give it to me, you worthless doormat!"
"Here, take it! You can have it for free."
"It's too scary for me anyway." The foal said with glee.
The thief put on the mask and the foal's soul departed.
The bully realized too late, this Mask was black hearted.
Terror and power tore through her mind,
Leaving nothing but hatred and anguish behind.
The moon she did grab, pulled it down towards the ground,
The princess took note, flying swiftly to town.
Celestia came, this madness to mend,
She was forced to make peace, putting the bully to an end.
The Mask in her care, she nearly gave in
But her mind was too strong, and the Mask's power waned thin.
Secure beneath Canterlot, the Mask does now stay,
The moon was put back, may we keep it that way.
Hold back from abuse, for it has a great toll,
That Mask has no mercy, not for even a foal.