“They say our souls are like a garden, how they can and will grow bright, strong, and beautiful, but one day will wither and die. As the world turns to ash beneath our feet, we must make the most of our lives.”
Journal entry 1 -
“I… I can’t believe I found a journal in these ruins… It’s been… it’s been rather tough since what I did to the world. How can I ever forgive myself… I do not know, but I hope that one day I can redeem this world’s life… even if Tartarus awaits me, I would give anything for this world… if only I had never found that book. That book is the reason this happened, the reason it all happened… it was my fault in the end though, my selfish desires to turn a force of nature into my will at command. If only I had never created that book… if only I could turn back time.”
As the ashen-colored colt put the journal in his bag he looked around, hoping for something, anything, that would be around, but there was nothing but remains. He thought to himself of the past, a better time, imagining how this town was once a shining utopia of life and happiness, and then thought of what had caused it to fall into ruin.
He wandered through fields of dead trees, hoping for something, anything. The world was gray and lifeless around him wherever he went. He traveled across many once-great lands, but never once did he see a living soul on his journey home.
He began to shudder from the cold, thick air around him. Nothing but the remains of those who once lived were left here, now no more than mere ash, their last action frozen in time for anything left alive to see. This was the once sprawling Sweet Apple Acres, now nothing more than a gray husk, a memory of what it once was.
He walked into the barn looking for any signs of life, anything at all. There was silence and nothing else, until he saw a picture. A memory he had long since forgotten emerged almost as if it had just happened.
“Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow, Fluttershy, and… Twilight.”
The colt shuddered at the final name he called. He put the picture into his bag and continued onward.
He walked in silence, as he had done for many years, until he stopped himself at what he would describe as one of the most enormous trees he had ever seen.
“Whoa,” he said, mouth now agape at the sight. He slowly trotted towards it, but the doors seemed to be barred shut. He reared back and kicked the door off its hinges, causing a loud thud as he did. Once again the world was silenced as he entered. As with many other buildings here it was dark, gray, and muted, with no more than remnants of whomever had once lived here.
Then he saw it, just sitting there on the floor, mocking him in utter silence. With this beautiful sight he maneuvered around the remains, but before he could reach the book he saw a glimmer in the corner of the room. A gold crown with sapphires and a magnificent purple gem that sat in the center of it.
He cringed at it. Just the sight made him want to break down and cry.
“Twilight,“ he spoke softly, “I’m… I’m sorry for what I’ve done, for everything. At first I blamed Celestia, then you and my other friends for this, but then I realised there was no reasoning behind these actions… no cognitive thought to why I did all of this. It was… it was fear and anger.”
The colt began to cry as he spoke.
“I’m sorry, Twilight! If I hadn’t messed with the advances...if I had never created that book, then you and our friends might still be here… I love you, my friend, and I only wish that I could turn back time.” He began to break down in a fit of tears, then finally regained his composure enough to grab the crown and trot over to the book.
“Technological advancements,” he read to himself, his eyes widening in fear as he opened the book. He began to read it but noticed something, the glow of his horn showing something else on the page. Something he didn’t remember writing.
He read it aloud to himself. “DO NOT under any circumstances use this book if you find it. If you do know that I hid this from all forms of life for safety long ago. When I created this I was breaking the barriers of what could be done, what could be achieved, but it was too successful. My creations became too self aware for anyone to use. They have become beings with no true definition of right or wrong, and thus I have dismantled them. If anyone finds this message, heed my warning.”
The ashen colt look confused, then dazed, then threw the book in a fit of rage.
“How did I not see that before? If I had just read more carefully this all could have been prevented.”
He slowly sat down and began to cry himself to sleep as he had done many other times in his lifetime.
“Why me, Celestia?” he whispered to himself like a mouse.
“WHY ME? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME, CELESTIA?...why?” he screamed, continuing to mumble that one word to himself over and over again, “why.” He thought to himself, “Why had this all happened? Why was the world a wasteland? Why was he and he alone the survivor of what the world was reduced to?” He cried long into the night until he passed out from exhaustion and cold, thinking only of that one word, ”why.”
He awoke the next morning drowsy and just as alone as the day before. “Time to continue my nightmare,” he mumbled to himself, trotting to the remains of his once good friend and grabbing her crown, then the torn remains of the book he so wanted to burn, but could not bring himself to do it. He walked to the edge of town, only looking back once, then never again. He walked in one direction and only one, the only direction he dared to go. Back to the once great capital of this fallen land. Back to Canterlot.
He began to remember… he remembered a lot more now as he got nearer. All the horrid times as well as some of the better ones began to come flooding back. He remembered being there, seeing Rainbow at her races, remembered the elegance of Rarity but also how fun she could be.
He remembered Applejack’s strong will and sweet heart, and remembered how much fun it was to study and talk with Twilight. He remembered them all fondly, but with those memories came the bad ones as well. Falling into a deep sleep he began to dream of the past.