A week passed before Earth could forgive himself. The routine continued as previously established, though Nightmare Moon’s eyes shone more in the starlight now. Progress picked up exponentially, with various experiments of self-sustaining time travel being committed every passing night. Indeed, this very night he’d found himself utilizing a shard of ancient magic Nightmare Moon had bottled from the mystical Table. The result was a cornucopia of objects and ponies sent through time. Nightmare Moon commissioned different prisoners and guards who displeased her to be the guinea pigs. All disappeared and reappeared several minutes later.
Now, walking back to his room with Nightshade in tow, he couldn’t help but wonder where life would lead him.
“So are you going to do it?” Nightshade asked.
Earth looked down at her. “Do what?”
“Go through time. Everypony in the kitchen has been saying the Princess will have power over all time soon.”
“I guess she will.” He stared back ahead at the Night Guards passing by. “The Night will last forever, throughout all of time.”
“Great!” Nightshade cheered. “Now all those ponies in the past will be able to live in the moonlight!”
Earth gave her a look somewhere between quizzical and offended. “Is that all you can think about?” he growled. “Moonie’s expansionism?”
Nightshade shrugged. “It’s a good thing, right?”
Earth looked down. “Good implies morality. The Princess herself said such a thing doesn’t exist anymore.”
“Okay…” she said. “What would you do with it?”
“With what?”
“Time travel. Where would you go, backward or forward?”
Earth didn’t need to dwell. Backwards, he thought. Before this madness started and I could keep that wretched thing on the throne from ever-
But he sighed when he saw Nightshade gazing up at him in unrestrained expectation. “Forward,” he finally said. “To see what happens to me in the next few years.”
Nightshade nodded. “That sounds pretty fun. I would go backwards, to see my parents.”
“Heh,” Earth chuckled. “Not a bad choice. I might do that myself.”
“Do you miss them? Your parents?”
Earth shrugged. “Can’t remember them much.”
“They die when you were little?”
Earth pouted and looked up at the ceiling. “Can’t recall. In fact…” His squint intensified toward a burning torch. “I can’t remember the early part of my life at all.”
“That’s weird. Maybe you got bonked on the head.”
“Mmm.” He looked down at Nightshade “And what about yours?”
“Huh?”
“Your parents. You said your teachers told you things about them.”
Nightshade’s face filled with confusion. “I don’t remember that. I don’t…” Her face drifted far away, lost in thought. “I don’t remember anypony saying anything about my parents.”
It was Earth’s turn to look puzzled. “We talked about them a few days ago, walking to the library. Well, sort of. You said you couldn’t talk about them because they betrayed the Princess.”
She shook her head. “No way! They couldn’t be! I follow the Princess all the time. I can’t have bad blood.”
Earth’s eyes narrowed. “Did they tell you to say this?”
“Who?”
Earth grabbed her and pinned her against the wall. “Did they tell you to say this?!”
“P-Put me down!” she squealed.
“You know your parents!” he shouted. “You told me weeks ago! You hate them! They’re traitors!”
“Stop!” she cried.
“Are they telling you to say this? Did they threaten you with something?”
“Put me down!”
“Hey, you!” a harsh voice called out. Earth turned to see a Night Guard running his way, her lance drawn. “Put that filly down!”
Earth looked back at Nightshade, now quaking in fear. “I’ve got to-“
Then the thought came to his mind. No, not a mere thought: a realization. A chill ran down his spine as he stared into Nightshade’s eyes, wavering with fear. It was the fear he felt now, his own body starting to shake in tandem with the terrified filly in his arms.
After a few moments, he gently let her down and pushed her toward the Night Guard. “My apologies,” Earth said, his face now stoic. “This filly is my aide. I thought she was trying to play a trick on me.”
The Night Guard looked at Nightshade. “Is this true, little one?”
Nightshade didn’t answer, still shaking.
“You can talk to the Princess,” Earth said. “She’ll confirm both her position and mine.”
The Night Guard pursed her lips. “Very well. You two may continue, but I better not see any more foolishness.”
Earth held up his hoof. “That won’t be a problem. We’re actually through for tonight. In fact, I would actually prefer it if you escorted her back to the kitchen.”
Nightshade’s eyes went wide. “I-I can be quiet…” she murmured.
“No,” Earth said firmly. “You’ve helped me more than enough. I’m sure the cooks wouldn’t mind if you gave them a helping hoof.”
She looked ready to protest, but just held her head low. The Night Guard looked at Earth before leading the filly down the hall. Nightshade looked back once, a look of utter hurt across her visage until the dark hallway enveloped her.
Earth sighed, then rushed down the original path. I hope she can forgive me, he thought. I just hope I’m wrong, so that I have a chance to apologize.
He ran as fast as he could, brushing by guards and castle staff alike with the same ignorance of their presence. More than a few discontented looks came his way.
“Slow down!” a rough voice called out. He recognized it as belonging to the Night Guard from his initial release, Rainbow Dash, but that was the most thought he gave it. He just kept running until the door rendered familiar from dozens of journeys came into sight. Without even trying the lock, he threw it open.
A musty smell filled the room, already disheveled by thrown about books and parchment. The bed remained unmade from last night and bath towels sat crumpled next to the bathroom doors. Earth made his way to the desk, considerably cleaner than the rest of the room, and began to root through the various papers stacked throughout.
Where is it? Earth thought. Please be here.
Paper upon paper flew up into the air and fell back in a graceful flop upon either the bed or floor. For a minute, the process continued until the desk sat bare. Earth stared down, horrified. A thick gathering of dust sat where once Star Swirl’s Compilated Studies and Addendums sat.
“No,” Earth pleaded. “No.” He turned to the window and threw open the curtains. His eyes desperately searched the night sky, praying for some sign he wanted more than he wanted Nightmare Moon to be gone.
Soon, his eyes stopped darting across the sky and fell back to the floor. For a few moments, he was silent, only his heavy breathing and the papers crumbling underneath his hooves reverberating through the room.
Then he began to laugh. He laughed until he could do nothing but curl up into a ball and laugh into his stomach. His laughter continued long into the night, even when it began to hurt and the tears started to flow down his cheeks.