Secrets & Dye

by Owlor


Act 2. Regret

Mane dye
By Owlor
A Story in two Acts.

Act Two. Regret

Oh hello, I figured that one of you would come here someday. Forget-Me-Not just loves to tell that story and tons of others, relying on her talents to keep her business discrete, I swear, that girl talks like she's writing a novel in her head!It was just a matter of time 'til her amnesia spell failed. I figured that with a bit of luck, you'd have the decency to keep quiet about it. But once it was all over the newspapers –I mean “Mayor holds cermony for fictional superhero” is a pretty catchy headline– I just KNEW that one of Forgets customers would find me and start asking questions.

Sigh, so let's begin then. No, I did not realize that Mare Do Well was a fraud. At the time, I genuinely though that a new young superhero had decided to pick up my metaphorical mantle. It made me feel delightfully old. I could've taken the role of the wise mentor; my supherhero lair was sealed shut long ago, but I still have a few tactical notes that could benefit an up-and-coming vigilante. Oh well, it's too late for “what could have been”.

They didn't even have the decency to tell me right away, I guess they figured I'd just forget about it over time. The sort of catastrophes that needs a masked vigilante are usually few and far between, after all. Even when I was at my most active, my presence would fade into an obscure myth in between my public appearances, a legend kept alive trough word-of-mouth between pickpockets and small-time burglars, keeping the more unhinged members of society in check trough superstition alone. However, I was becoming slightly obsessed.

The back wall of my office was slowly accumulating blurry photographs, not unlike those you'd see touted as proof of Bighooves and while I never said anything to anypony, and my nightly trips around the town was increasingly messing with my sleep schedule. A quick glance at my increasingly disshelved face would have been enough to clue you in that something were wrong.

Okay,I grew VERY obsessed. This aspect of the story was fortunately not covered by the newspapers as the whole thing started to unravel –something I'm endlessly thankful for– but it was an open secret among most of my advisers, of which Twilight is one.

Shemust've consulted with the others,I guess, because she never told me herself. But when I went to Sweet Apple Acres to discuss a possible subsidiary agreement, Applejack pulled me aside and spilled the whole thing. She apologized for not telling me sooner --something about a pinkie promise-- and offered me a nice glass of hard cider to dull the chock too, Celly bless that girl...

I guess you need to know what REALLY happened at the clock tower to understand why I reacted the way I did. In my carrier as a superhero, I rescued more than a few ponies out of falling buildings, do you honestly think I'dnt realize that you can't just snare somepony in a grappling hook and expect her to be fine? No, you need to swing by them and break their fall from the side, and even then, the sudden force could crack a few ribs! Gravity is a harsh mistress...

To put it bluntly: I KILLED THE MAYOR, do you understand? I destroyed any chance of her surviving with one quick yank of the cable, and I did it deliberately; something she must have realized, judging by the glance she shot me right before the rope tightened. I killed the mayor because I love this town more than anything else, and I couldn't sit by idly while it was being gradually destroyed.

If this situation had never occurred –if Pitchfoal had never tried to kidnap her in exhange for all the towns phonographs– I might not have had it in me to do it. I'd never stalk somepony with a knife between my teeth and cut them down in cold blood... only, this was no less of a murder, let's be honest. And no less could; in my pompous, over swelled head, I thought of it as an acceptable sacrifice , a pawn being sacrificed to make way for the queen, nothing more.

After years of public service,I thought I had come to peace with myself. I had long ago abandoned the idea of true redemption and settled for simply living with the fact that I'm a murderer. After the severity of my actions had sunk in fully, I still had to admit that I really liked this persona. Chances are that the mayor would've died anyway, and taken the entire town with her.

Right or wrong, my actions helped make the town what it is and I figured that Celestia and Luna would judge me in the end. But the whole Mare Do Well ordeal stirred up some old feelings I thought I had buried. The opportunity to teach a protégée to not trot down the same road as I did seem so very inviting, the sort of poetic closure I had never thought I'd get but really needed.

Hearing that it was all a scam, that it was merely an elaborate ruse to teach one of their friends a lesson... didn't hurt as much as one might've expected. I trotted away from the farm with strangely serene hoofsteps. There was even a faint smile forming across my face. There's a certain degree of humour in all this, a big, universal joke at my expense. As I got further away from the farm, my smile turned to a giggle. If this was all a big joke, what else could I do but laugh? I'd like to think I did more good as the mayor than I ever did with a pink cape around my shoulders anyway...

Uhm, miss Scratch? I know I can't compel you, or threathen you, but I'd be very grateful if you didn't let this story leave this room. We all have our secrets, I imagine you don't want anypony to know why you hide between those big bulky sunglasses of yours.