Of Forecast and Flames

by ANearPerfectStudent


Truth and Knowledge aren't always the same

        “To those who have never been show-ponies, I will explain their life to you: No family, no friends, no children. The only escapes they have in life are the audience and death, do not tell me they are but worthless scum.” -Princess Luna, in response to Prince Blueblood IV, the Germaniegh Theatre bombing.

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        Ring!

        I don’t wanna get up right now… She sighed.

        Ring!

        Ring!

        RIng!

        Rin-SMACK!

        Curse you, Time Turner, stop fixing that clock. I swear it breaks for a reason! Her eyes cracked open. Judging by the lack of warmth next to her, she presumed Time-y Wime-y was out on one of his ‘business trips.’ She chuckled at her husband’s pet name. He took his job so seriously, like it was going to be the precipice of disaster is he didn’t go on them. So there she lay in her bed in her house in Ponyville.  By far, it wasn’t the best house in the village, but it served her needs. She lifted herself off the bed, closing one eye to let herself see better. She clumsily walked over to her bathroom, the combination of sleepiness and lack of depth perception forcing her to wobble toward to the door.

The mare stepped into the shower, using her hoof the turn it on. Fresh, steaming water fell from the showerhead, instantly drenching the mare’s bright red hair. She let out a deep sigh as she washed her fur. It was the same routine as the last 5 years. A memory slowly reappeared in her mind as she turned off the shower.

Today… It couldn’t be, right? Has It been that long since I abandoned my fans? Did I do the right thing, or was I selfish… No, there’s no time for self-doubt, Dinky and Time Turner are in your life now, it had to be the right choice. She began to dry her mane, letting it flow into its normal, wacky way. As she preened her wings, she looked back at her cutiemark, a flame surrounded by bubbles. It was a unique cutiemark, one that unfortunately had to be covered up everyday.

With her body dry, she walked over to the mirror and opened a box. Inside, there were things. She reached in and pulled out a box, about the size of a wedding ring box. She nudged the box open and reached her muzzle inside. As she pull out, two contact lenses laid in her mouth. She closed her right eye and reaching up with a hoof, slowly played the lense on her eye. She blinked three times. She closed the other eye, and with slightly yellow vision, she placed the other lense on. They blurred her vision slightly, but a bit of crashing made out for her disguise

She reached for another object in the box, a jar. Using her hooves with a practiced grip, the jar opened revealing the yellow wax. Dipping a hoof in the wax, she began to brush it into her mane and tail, carefully as not to get it on her grey fur. I can’t have that turning yellow, that would be hard to explain even for me. When she finished, there was only one object left in the box. It was as special as it was symbolic of her life.  

Her hoof reached in, shaking as she pull out the last item. Even though for the last three years, she had used the potion, she still was scared of it. It was a mixture that was almost viewed as a curse to many ponies.  Very few would ever want to change their calling, temporary or not. It was their identity, their symbol of uniqueness. She popped of the cap of the vial and with as sigh, took a sip of the liquid. I’m going to need to thank you, Zecora, your potions have made this a lot easier.

Her body convulsed for a second before the extremely bitter liquid oozed down her throat. I like you, Zecora, but couldn’t you have made it a bit sweeter?

She lifted her head back up to the mirror. Staring back at her was a new pony, a different pony. Definitely not who I used to be. She sighed. She sat there, facing the mirror for several seconds before placing the objects back in the box and shutting the box back in her drawer.

 She opened her master bedroom door and began walked across the hallway. She stopped at the door to the right of her room. Cracking open the door, she peered into the room and gave off an overly familiar wall-eyed smile to her daughter before continuing into the kitchen. On the counter, there was her favorite treat of all, the glorious muffin. It was the last of her past she had stuck on to. Everypony else just thought of it as a random thing she liked, but to her, it was much more than that. How could I ever abandon her last meal as a showmare? She closed her eyes, remembering that day. It hadn’t been hard after all; one ‘bad’ crash and you’ve disappeared from the world. Should it have been a day of joy, of freedom, or one of sadness?

It wasn’t like her co-fliers cared for me. They probably just saw it as another obstacle removed from their paths to ‘fame’ and ‘fortune.’  Letting out a deep sigh and opening her eyes, she slipped into her usual work-clothes. It wasn’t much; rather a reflection of her simple life. It was a blue hat, a badge on top, showing her position as a government employee. She didn’t have all of her uniform at her house, though. She would have to travel to the post office to receive her bag, of course. She grabbed a scarf from the rack and twirled it around her neck. Satisfied, she cracked open the door, letting the cold air rush into the house.

        She shivered, but continued out of her house into the frosty December air. She gave her wings an experimental flap before launching off the ground, leaving only her hoofprints in the ground below her. Her wings began to flap more slowly, reducing her speed down to that of the bright, cheery mare everypony knew. Or at least they thought they knew...