I stared down at the parchment underhoof. You would think by now I would have gotten used to this sort of thing. In all my years in office, I’d planted my hoof on so many documents I’d lost count. This one was different. This one was final.

Nothing too complex; it said what it had to say. If nothing else, I always stuck to the simple form in official documents. I was one of those crazy bureaucrats that the lawyers loved to hate. No loopholes, no vague interpretations, nothing unclear in the slightest. Still the words felt foreign, like they couldn’t possibly have been written by me. One last look confirmed my fears.

I, Mayor M. Mare, do hereby resign my commission, effective immediately.

With a heavy heart, I scribbled the date to the right of the signature line and stamped my hoof to the page. Staring at the line below that, I felt even greater apprehension. Nopony knew about this, but there was one that I had to inform. One last piece of official business and I could ride off into the sunset.

I sheathed my quill and rolled up the parchment. Fixing my pouch around my sagging flank, I added the scroll to the pocket. With a sigh, I took a turn around the office. How many years had it been? Forty? Fifty? Certainly too many to count. All those years I’d spent behind a desk came crashing down around me. Breaking the shackles of office had to be the hardest thing I’d ever done.

Stepping out into the hall, I closed my office door. The gold letters would need to go. It was hard to think what would happen to this building. There wasn’t much use for it with the new castle in town. City Hall was my home, but it was time to move on. I still hadn’t officially made up my mind what my next step would be. Perhaps by forcing the issue, I would find the decision would be made for me. That seemed to be happening a lot more lately.

My short walk through town carried me up Mane Street. A thriving community hurried about the business of the day centered in and around the town square market. Dozens of ponies gathered to trade and gossip away the morning, the biggest news of the day having yet to break. The thought occurred to me that I might open a stationary shop. That thought quickly vanished considering I would be hard pressed to find an opening in a town with a near one-hundred-percent occupancy rate. That, and there was always Quills and Sofas.

Passing the trade district, I sauntered up the lane straddling Everfree Park and a row of two story brownstones. Green space was important to a growing city, but maybe we could use the room for more shops or houses. Ponyville wasn’t getting any smaller, after all. I quickly brushed those thoughts aside. That was something for the new leadership to consider. I could barely keep up with the times and the times were changing fast.

Further up the lane, the school bell sounded, and the foals rushed inside their classroom. Cheerilee looked after them all with such diligent care. The next generation would make a fine showing in society under her guidance. My days in the old schoolyard sat far in the past. I chuckled to myself considering the idea of volunteering at the school. I could never be as good as Cheerilee, my talent lay in politics, not education. The closest I’d come to mixing the two was being elected class president. Now that was a long time ago.

I turned my step up the path toward the towering edifice proudly looming over the next hill. Each step I took felt like tugging a lead-weighted hoof through a swamp. I grit my teeth and held my head as high as I could. One hoof in front of the other brought me closer to the end. Without even realizing it, the doors to the castle barred my next hooffall.

I knocked.

My legs felt like gelatin left out on the counter overnight. I hardly gave notice to the state of my mane and tail, and silently chided myself for not dressing more formally. With the distraction of drawing up my resignation, I even forgot my official’s collar back at the office. Hardly a problem, seeing as I wouldn’t need it anymore, I took a step back to consider retrieving it.

The door swung open.

The Princess smiled and held out a hoof in welcome. “Mayor Mare, how wonderful to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I-I’m sorry to bother you, Princess.” The words caught in my throat. “It’s nothing really. I only meant to drop this with your assistant.” It took me three tries to unfasten the flap on my pouch and extract the scroll. With a deflating sigh, I passed it over. “You don’t have to deal with it right now, but I will need your signature before close of business.”

The Princess took hold of the scroll with her magic. I turned to walk away.

“Won’t you come in?” She sounded hurt. “It’s been a while, and I would love to catch up if you aren’t busy.”

“I’m as far from busy as they come, Princess.” I stopped and turned back. “If it’s all the same, I must politely decline your offer.”

The Princess stepped outside. “Is something wrong? You look like somepony just trampled your garden.”

“I’m sorry, Princess.” I had a hard enough time getting to this point, and this encounter was making it worse. “I have a lot on my mind, and I really should get home.”

“Come in and sit down.” Her gestures made the invite seem less compulsory that I knew it was. “We’ll have some lunch and you can tell me all about it. What kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t here to listen?”

A friend. The Princess was a good friend. I wasn’t sure why I needed to remind myself of that. “Alright, but only a short lunch. I still have a few bags to pack before the evening train.” One of my options sounded better with each passing minute.

I slid past my host and into the castle foyer. The door shut behind her and she waved over to the side room. “Are you taking a trip? A vacation perhaps?”

“You might call it that.” I stepped into the sitting room and eyed a velvet-topped couch. “I have some family in Manehattan. Been meaning to visit for years.”

“That sounds like fun.” Princess Twilight walked around the couch and settled into a high back chair. “I’ve thought about taking a vacation, but I can never find the time to get away.”

“It only gets worse the longer you put it off.” I said the words and immediately wished I hadn’t.

“How long has it been since your last vacation?” She asked as plainly as she could.

“I’ve never taken one.” The pillow-soft cushion underneath felt like cold stone against my belly.

“Never?”

“Never,” I replied. The sting of those words struck a chord. My work was my life, and I had little to show for it after so many years with my muzzle to the grindstone.

“Well you certainly deserve some time away.” Twilight conjured up a tray of light sandwiches and tea. “The town should be able to hold together for a few weeks, at least, with you gone.” A pair of cups and sandwich plates floated over to the table between us.

“Actually, I was thinking about something more permanent.” I wasn’t trying to hide it, but the conversation was heading into territory I didn’t want to confront.

“I’m not sure I follow?” Twilight looked up from the tray and floated the scroll over from the side stand. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with this, now would it?”

“Actually, it does.” It was no use, the truth had to come out sooner or later. “I just need you to sign and date at the bottom.”

Twilight unrolled the page and read the single line. The parchment dropped from her grasp with a light rustle, partially rolling up as it hit the floor. Her eyes met mine. I could tell she had a number of things she wanted to say, a million questions to ask. All that came out was, “Why?”

My eyes wandered. I couldn’t bear to look at her straight on. My friend was also my nemesis, but only in the starkest of ways. “I thought about finishing out my term, but there’s really no point. You can probably forgo elections altogether. Ponyville doesn’t need a mayor with a princess in town.” I surprised myself with my own bluntness.

I felt a hoof gently slide over my shoulder. Shuddering under the contact, my professional defenses melted away. Her words broke the dam. “I’m sorry, Mayor, but I can’t accept your resignation.”

“Why not?” I brushed her hoof away. “I’m perfectly within my rights to resign at any moment I feel unfit for duty.”

“There’s a bigger problem here.” Twilight backed away. She paused and hung her head. “I’m sorry, Madame Mayor. I never meant to overshadow you.”

“Call me Mary, Mary Mare.”

“…” Twilight turned to look my way, but her expression hinted at confusion.

“Just sign the form and I can go back to being plain old Mary, the not-mayor Mare.” It felt weird hearing my name come out of my mouth.

“I never knew you had a first name,” Twilight said, reeling in some kind of shock, I would assume. “You’ve always been, Mayor Mare.”

“I’ve had the title for so long, I’d practically forgotten it myself.” I stepped down off the couch and went to retrieve my official resignation. “I suppose I should get used to using it again.”

Before I could take up the scroll, Twilight’s magic closed around it. “Mayor, we need to talk about this.” Her worried stare felt unsettling in the already turbulent state of unrest swirling around my decision. “I can’t let you resign. Ponyville needs you!”

“No, Princess Twilight. Ponyville needs you,” I said with as much emphasis as I could place on redirecting the honor.

“You’re wrong,” Twilight said. “And call me Twilight. I don’t want you calling me princess if it means that you don’t see yourself as mayor.”

“Actually, you’re more mayor than I ever was.” I casually circled around toward the window, my practiced lines getting a chance to make my case. “You’ve taken over Winter Wrap-Up Day, saved the town from countless disasters, become the go-to pony for all problems great and small, and now, you even have a better office than City Hall. I’ve been mayor for decades, and what have I got to show for it?”

“I think we need to take a walk,” Twilight said and motioned toward the door.

I needed to head back into town anyway. If Twilight wanted to accompany me home, I couldn’t refuse the offer. With a nod of my head, I took her advise.

The view of the town from the castle sent a tingle down my spine. My quiet, little village all tucked away at the edge of the Everfree Forest waved hello as well as goodbye. Twilight stepped up beside me as we walked down the path together.

“Ponyville wouldn’t be the same without you.” Her comment gave me a moment’s pause.

“Of course it would,” I said. “The town’s bigger than any single pony.”

“Not when that pony is you,” she replied. “You’ve done more good for this town than anypony I know, myself included.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be replaced.” My reply drew a stalemate. We walked in silence for a minute. The tap of hooves on hard-packed dirt added to swish of tail and mane. I knew my time had come.

Retracing my steps into town, we passed by the schoolhouse. Twilight stopped by the fence and waved over to Cheerliee sitting at her desk just inside the door. Cheerilee waved back. I stepped up next to Twilight, curious to see what the lesson of the day was.

“I hear you were the one responsible for this,” Twilight said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied. “Responsible for what?”

“For building the school.” Twilight shot me one of her signature grins.

“I merely headed the commission to address the issue of the lack of public education options in town.” I stepped back from the rail. “The funds nearly raised themselves.”

“And you convinced Cheerliee to teach when she had offers from some of the most prestigious universities in all of Equestria.” Twilight’s smile broadened, like she thought my actions worthy of praise. “She’s a particularly brilliant teacher.”

“The case was made that she would have more of an impact on the future leaders of Equestria by teaching the foals than dealing with the hard-headed academics.” I turned to head into town. “She made her own decision.” Twilight followed.

Back on the road, I tried to get some things off my back. “Twilight, I know what you’re trying to do. You want to show me that I’ve somehow made a huge impact on Ponyville, and that nopony could ever replace me.” Our walk took us past the houses and park as we neared the town proper. “I’ve made a few enemies over the years, and not everypony thinks so highly of me.”

“Oh, really?” Twilight said. “I can’t imagine anypony taking issue with building a school.”

“It wasn’t that,” I said, a small chuckle in my voice. “I got in quite the scuffle with Filthy Rich about his big crate, super shopping center he wanted to build right over there.” I pointed toward the park. “Fought him hoof and tail, and ended up having to designate the land as ‘green space’ before he finally backed down. He hasn’t forgiven me; thinks I’m halting progress.”

“Well, that’s just it,” Twilight said. “Nopony else would have stood up to him. Without you, where could ponies run and play? How could we sit and watch the pegasi roll the clouds by? Picnics in the park are one of things I enjoy most of all with my friends, our pets need the space just as much as we do.”

“We live in the country,” I said, my pragmatic side coming out. “You can do all of those things without a designated park.” The noise of the bustling town square downed out the sound of our hooves.

“So, why did you make one?” Twilight asked.

“Because of this.” I raised my hoof and pointed around. “If I allowed one pony to build a one-stop-shop store right here in town, all of these ponies would be out of work. Not only that, we’d lose the interaction that comes from gathering in the town square.”

“I take it back, you’re not a good mayor.” Twilight walked out ahead and turned back after taking in the view of the whole square. “You’re the greatest mayor Ponyville could ever hope for.”

“That’s very nice of you to say, Twilight.” I could feel my cheeks blushing, my glasses sliding off the end of my muzzle. “You put me on a pedestal, and it makes it harder for me to leave. Even so, I know I’ll leave Ponyville in good hooves. Who better to take over for me than a princess.”

“So you’re just going to leave?!” Twilight’s frustration drew the eye of the crowd.

I smiled back at the onlookers and lowered my voice to a whisper. “I think I’ll head to Manehattan and help my brother with his reelection campaign. Who knows, I may end up back in Ponyville when I’m done with that, but I think my time as mayor is over. I’ve done what I needed to do. I had a good run, and now it’s your turn to lead.”

“But… But Ponyville needs you,” Twilight said, pleading with all she could muster. “I need you…”

“I’m sorry, Twilight, but I’m just not the mayor I used to be. I can’t compete with a princess. As much as I might want to stay and help run the town, all I’m good for now is smiling and waving.” I glanced up at the City Hall clock tower. “I really have to get going. There’s a good deal to pack before the train leaves.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you to stay?” Twilight asked, with one last pleading gesture to the town’s first, last, and only mayor.

“I don’t think there is,” I said, giving a smile to let her know there were no hard feelings. “Thank you making the effort to try and get me to stay. You’ve made the decision easier.”

I turned and walked inside City Hall. The sting of her gaze bit into my flank. The one thing I couldn’t bring myself to mention would be something she would have to face for herself. For all my years of devoted service to the city, my only regret came in not having a family of my own. I feared the same future for Twilight.

It was one thing to be totally absorbed with your work. It was quite another to have it frighten away any potential suitors. I thought back on my life and the possibility of a thrilling romance, the sound of a newborn foal gracing the office at City Hall. It was too late for all that. I’d let the opportunity pass me by. Ponyville was my foal, and I’d watched her grow into a lovely young mare. It was time for me to take my leave and let my little one fly on without me.

---

Formalities aside, it felt good to be free of my job. I had been a good fit for the position, but situations had changed. A long train ride to visit my brother awaited, and I found myself packing only a fraction of what I thought I should bring. In a little under two hours, I found myself standing on the platform at Ponyville Station with two moderately full saddlebags and a small suitcase.

As I stared down the tracks watching and waiting for my train to carry me forward to the next chapter in life, the Princess swooped in around the corner, coming to a stop a little out of breath.

“I’m…so glad…I found you,” Twilight managed to say. “I thought maybe you’d caught an earlier train.”

“No,” I replied, a little more casually than I intended. “Didn’t take me as long to pack as I thought it would.”

“Anyway, I’m not here to stop you,” Twilight said folding her wings in and taking a few steps to the end of the platform. “Before you leave, though, I thought you might want to say goodbye.”

“I’ve already said my goodbyes, Princess,” I said, shaking my head. “I closed up City Hall and left instructions for the items I left behind. I can’t think of any loose ends left to tie up.”

I turned to glance down the track with the rumbling sound of an approaching engine growing louder. Either the train was incredibly early, or I had misjudged how long it took me to pack. To my surprise, I couldn’t quite make out anything of the sort. I turned back to Twilight and her innocent looking smile spreading across her muzzle.

“I hope you won’t be mad,” she said, the corners of her mouth rising into a cheesy grin, “but I sort of invited the whole town to see you off.”

“But…” I took a step back, bracing myself for the worst possible situation. “I don’t want to make a scene, and I certainly don’t want to face all those ponies…”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight said, raising a hoof in a calming gesture. “I already explained everything and we’re all good with you leaving. We just couldn’t let you go without giving a proper sendoff. Pinkie Pie insisted.”

The thunder of hooves grew louder. A chorus of singing floated along the afternoon breeze.

“For she’s a jolly good Mayor,
For she’s a jolly good Mayor,
For she’s a jolly good May-y-yor,
Which nopony can deny!”

The singing continued with the flood of ponies pouring out of town toward the station. I staggered to the bench and marveled at the line beginning to form leading back by the dozens. One by one they each stepped up to the platform, the chorus continuing unabated.

“Mayor Mare,” Rarity said, being the first to approach, “I wish to thank you for granting a business license to a very young filly. The confidence you placed in me meant the world in starting my shop.”

I gave a nod, not able to bring myself to say anything in return. The next in line stepped forward.

“Hey there,” Rainbow Dash said, always the mare of eloquence, “thanks for rezoning the airspace on the east side of town. Don’t know how I’d get along without my own place in the clouds.”

All the bottled up emotion I’d saved over the course of the last fifty years came rushing out as I greeted each pony in line. Every citizen of Ponyville had some little quip or experience to share. Twilight stood by my side through it all. Nearing the end of the line, my train pulled into the station.

The last of the ponies came by, and Twilight stepped up on the bench to address the crowd. The singing petered out with Twilight raising her hoof for quiet. “Thank you all for coming. I want to personally thank Mayor Mare for all of her years of tireless service to this town. Countless ponies felt the benefit of her service, and I can’t imagine what Ponyville would be like today without her leadership and guidance. I join with all of you here in wishing her good luck in her future plans, wherever they may lead her. Before she leaves, there is one last order of business to attend to.”

Twilight stepped down from the bench. Spike rushed forward holding a golden box.

“Mayor Mary Mare,” she began, “by the authority vested in me as a Princess of Equestria, I hereby relieve you of your duties as Mayor of Ponyville and present you with a gift for your many years of valiant service.”

The lid of the box opened under the glow of Twilight’s horn. A golden key in the shape of a pony hanging from a bright red ribbon floated out and hung in the air over my head.

“Please accept the Key to the City as well as our thanks for a job well done. You’re always welcome here should you ever decide to return.”

I bowed my head as she placed the ribbon around my neck. Everypony cheered.

“Thank you, Princess,” I said, tears of joy matting the gray fur of my cheeks. I turned to the crowd. “Thank you, Ponyville.”

The crowd parted. A path to my waiting train opened up. My lead-shoe swamp trot soon found the waiting cabin. I took my seat and pulled down the window. With a wave of my hoof, the train whistle blew. The train lurched forward as the wheels spun against the rails.

Pulling away from the station, I stuck my head out the window. With a smile and a wave, I departed my little town on the edge of the Everfree. A few hundred faces smiled and waved back, and I knew I would remember each one.