Numbers three and six, in Equestrian culture, are associated with good fortune, with the latter more so than the former. Three leaders of the three pony tribes, three aides for the three leaders, they made six Founders of Equestria. Elements of Harmony were six as well, and now there were six Wielders of the Elements. The most common friend groups consisted of six close friends, and the most common romantic relationships featured three partners. In cities, the most common height of any building was three floors, and if there was a need for more floors, more often than not the total floor count was in the multiples of three.

Luna was aware of the symbolism and its power, and so it was on the sixth day since Wild got his talent mark when she decided to send him a note asking him to visit her. She did her best to word it as a request, not any sort of an order, making it clear that Wild could very well refuse it and face no negative consequences from anyone. She was somewhat aware that even simple requests from a princess were often treated as orders, so there was little else she could do about it, only hoping that Wild, due to his relative familiarity with her, would choose what worked for him and not for her.

Despite luck being on her side, she couldn’t help but feel anxious, anticipation thick in the air around her as she sat there in waiting, fidgeting, never quite able to take the perfect position on a seat that suddenly wasn't as comfortable as it should have been. She had formed a plan with Doctor Fay and hoped to ask Wild about letting Fay in as well. Luna realized that she was way over her head and couldn’t possibly offer all the help Wild needed, not by herself, so the work would be made tremendously easier with Fay. However, she knew Wild would most likely not agree to it despite her best efforts. Nevertheless, she repeated her arguments in her head over and over again, hoping that they would be enough to convince him.

Fortunately for her, Wild agreed to visit her in the end, some time after dinner. He opened the door slowly, peeked in, and then walked in, each step measured not to show nervousness yet displaying it clearly for her to see. He closed the door behind him softly and turned to face her, his face a mask of neutrality, his body rigid with tension he failed to control. His apprehension couldn't have been clearer, but at least he showed up, which was a point towards the meeting going well enough. Luna knew she would do her best, and even if it wasn't enough, she would have at least tried.

She mentally readied herself, casting her doubts and fears and anxieties away. Wild was there, she was there, and the only way forward was through.

“Good day, Wild,” she greeted him, her voice steady and calm and welcoming, revealing nothing of her own nervousness. As a princess, she had received much training in hiding what she truly felt in the face of various situations where showing her inner thoughts would prove to be a wrong move, “Take a seat, if you please.”

His steps were, once more, carefully controlled as he moved forward, his eyes a steely gray, his thoughts firmly locked behind impressive mental shields. Luna, as a sign of common decency, practiced the thought-deflecting technique that she taught Wild as well, but her own awareness of the thoughts around her was still greater, still able to determine the very surface of the people around her.

Luna resisted the urge to inhale too deeply and simply continued to breathe as normal. As long as she didn't reveal her own nervousness, Wild would see no reason to become more anxious himself, which would be better for both of them. Her outward calm would also hopefully prevent him from seeing this meeting as an interrogation. Luna had no intention of questioning him excessively, and yet she could only help him if he were honest with her, so a balance had to be struck.

She almost snorted at the thought of this meeting resembling treaty talks with other nations. As random as this thought was, Luna could admit she could see the similarities. Both of them wanted something from each other, and both wanted the meeting to end to their benefit. Whether it would be to one's benefit and the other's loss or to mutual benefit, that much depended on how Luna acted.

The seat Luna chose for Wild to have was comfortably padded, containing the newly-made and quite expensive memory foam. Her own sleep had certainly improved after she got a pillow made of it, as well as a mattress containing it, and adding the comfort charms on top of it all provided a heavenly experience unlike any other. Magic, after all, could only do so much - what was underneath it was still important.

Wild's eyes widened a fracture as he suddenly stopped, then he wiggled a bit and settled in, some of the rigidity and tension going away. Luna noted to make sure the producers of memory foam received a generous donation in the future.

Her next step in her strategy for this meeting was not sitting behind a desk herself. The desk would have separated them as well as elevated her above him, and by eliminating it she hoped it would help Wild feel himself more equal to Luna. For herself, she hoped this lack of distance and separation would make her look more approachable.

Despite her efforts, his posture remained rigid and stiff to a degree, radiating wariness, a hint of nervousness, and plenty of uncertainty. The black circle of his talent mark stood out starkly against his blue fur, attracting her attention even as she did her best not to stare at it, knowing it would certainly make Wild uncomfortable if she did. His eyes looked into hers, and they appeared to be glowing intensely in a way that wasn’t exactly physical and, likely, not in a way that Wild could consciously control yet. Luna suspected that, if she reached out, she would feel the lack of proper tether between his soul and body. That was certainly one of the things she wanted to talk to him about, now that she knew what to say after spending her time looking up everything that could help her understand what happened then.

“How have you been?” she asked casually. It was better to approach slow, and this general kind of question should hopefully help with that.

Wild made an aborted sign before his face twisted for a moment. He licked his lips, his eyes moving away from hers.

“I am fine,” he replied. It was clear that he hadn’t been practicing his speech much if at all since the last time Luna saw him, although his voice was steadier and just a bit louder. It was still rather quiet, rough in that peculiar way a voice not often used sounded. In a way, it clashed with his appearance, as if his voice didn’t quite belong with his body, “I am... doing swordsmanship. I went to Art Club. It was... nice.”

Luna was glad Wild chose even those little bits of information to share with her. Someone who held no trust in her would have stopped after declaring themselves fine. However, even as he said those words, Luna got a feeling that there was more to it. Whether he didn’t want how to say it or didn’t want to talk about it, that she didn’t know and didn't wish to speculate on.

“It’s good to hear your voice again,” Luna smiled at him encouragingly, “I hope it wasn’t an issue that I wasn’t around. I intended to give you some space for yourself after everything you have been through. I know you are a private person, and I hope you will tell me if I ever overstep your boundaries.”

She couldn't stop berating herself for what happened even when she knew the fault did not entirely lie with her. It was for the best that she had given him space. However, she knew that continuing giving it to him would only make it look like she abandoned him, which she would never do. He needed her help, and she had never abandoned those she cared about.

Except she had abandoned her sister-

She squashed this thought with enough mental force to destroy a weaker mind.

Wild thought for a short while before speaking again.

“My boundaries,” he said slowly, as if tasting the words, “I... never wanted to, to talk about... myself,” he shrugged in a way that didn’t exactly mean anything more than fidgeting, a movement for the sake of moving, “I didn’t think anyone would learn about... who I am. Not you, not anyone.”

He stopped there, still looking away from her, subtle emotions shifting as he thought.

“What will you do to me?” he asked, looking at her again, “Because you know I am not a pony. I am... a stranger.”

Luna had thought for a long time about it, and she saw where his words could lead. She had to make sure they didn't lead where he could be hurt.

“The idea of someone coming over from another world is not as outrageous as it may seem,” Luna started, “From time to time, creatures came from other worlds, and we are generally aware that other worlds exist.”

Wild’s eyes widened, a look of surprise in them. There were questions in his mind, no doubt, but none of them sprung forth to be spoken.

“But you are the first sapient being who crossed over as far as we are aware,” Luna continued, “If anyone in the scientific community learned of it, they would certainly like to speak to you about it. However, it is your choice whether to reveal your origins or not. I do not believe anyone other than myself, at this moment, would be so lucky as to guess it. Perhaps my sister will if she spends more time around you, but it is otherwise very unlikely.”

There was visible relief in Wild at her words, although his wariness yet remained, as if waiting for a 'but'. Luna couldn't fault him for it.

“To answer your question, I do not intend to do anything to you,” Luna said, “You are your own person. Your circumstances are interesting, but I do not have the right to push to learn more about them than you are willing to reveal. And you do have a right to live your own life in pursuit of happiness. Unless you break our laws, and unless it is relevant to your origins, they will not have to come up.

“Personally, I would like to help you heal and thrive, and your past is relevant there. But it is your choice whether you want to talk about it. Help is only effective when it is wanted. Neither I nor anyone else can force you to accept help.”

“I want help,” Wild said, then averted his eyes, shrinking back bit. Luna got the impression that he didn't mean his words to burst out of him like they had just done, “But... can I... can help be done to me?”

“Do you believe you are beyond help?” Luna asked for clarification.

At that, Wild didn’t know what to say, inwardly shrinking some more. Many thoughts swirled inside his mind, memories that made him who he was, his thoughts and his desires and his fears and his anger and hatred-

Of course, nothing stood out as much as the one, exactly one, the very core of him, that part of him that he hated yet couldn't get rid of. It was him, and without it he wouldn't be himself, and the exact reason why he hated himself. Could he bring it up? Could he tell Luna about it?

Well... it wasn’t like he hadn’t admitted to having done bad things before, an understatement that it was. What was one more thing at this point? He would surrender to her judgement. Perhaps it was far too grandiose, but he had entered her world, and it was only just for her to know who and what he was in order to decide whether he could be allowed to live or not.

“I like making pain,” Wild blurted all in one go before he could convince himself not to bring it up. There was an immediate sense of release and relief flooding his mind, “When others are hurt, and I do that, I like it. Not, not in a...” he stuttered as he found the word, “Not in a sex way. Not like that. But, but...” he went silent then, looking down on the ground, shame rolling over him in a wave now that the relief dried up and disappeared. Then, in a voice so quiet as to be barely audible, he said, “But it is wrong anyway.”

There was a silence that seemed to stretch for a long while despite lasting for no longer than a couple of seconds. Wild felt like a sword was hanging above him, like his head was on a chopping block and there was just one action separating him from death, and the action was not in his hands to do.

“So, you enjoy causing pain,” Luna said, her tone neutral, and Wild could do nothing but nod, the entirety of him still as he awaited what she would say next, “I must admit, I do not know much about sadism, but I can certainly say that being a sadist, in itself, is neither good nor bad.”

Wild looked at her, puzzled. That was not something he expected to hear. How could it not be bad? He caused pain and he liked it. He wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“No one can help how they feel,” Luna said gently, “Just like you cannot help feeling pleasure at someone’s pain, you likewise cannot control, for example, how the food you eat tastes.”

That was an analogy he hadn’t heard before, and he perked up slightly at it, because it made sense. How many times had he tried to control how he felt, only to always fail without a single exception? Was it not exactly like wanting an apple to taste like an orange?

“We cannot control how we feel,” Luna continued, “We can only control what we do about it. Your feelings, your thoughts, they are not something you should ever be judged by. Your actions is what is important. Can you accept this?”

He was struck speechless then. Perhaps, intellectually, he knew that actions are what matters, not what one thought or felt. However, being vaguely aware of it wasn’t the same as fully recognizing it or accepting it.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Are there any conditions that you need to meet in order to enjoy the pain you cause?” Luna asked, making Wild frown at the seeming change of conversation.

“I... yes,” he nodded, then swallowed, “I don’t en-joy making- causing pain to people I like,” he said, and it was true, but only partially, so he added, “Unless... unless they agree to it. Like in a sword duel,” he licked his lips, feeling them dry up as he struggled to put this part of him in words, “I must be the one to cause pain to like it. No one else,” he paused for a moment, thinking some more, “And I... like it the most, when I... when I hurt someone who hurt me.”

“Alright. So, allow me to sum it up, and please correct me if I’m wrong,” Luna said, “You like causing pain only to people who cause pain to you that you didn’t agree to, and you also like causing pain to people who agree to you causing pain to them.”

Wild nodded. It was, surprisingly for him, entirely correct.

“Then I do not believe there is a problem.”

It struck him in a way that resonated inside him, disbelief rising alongside bone-deep utter relief at this simple statement. Were he religious, he would perhaps compare it to feeling lighter after a confession, but there was no judgment. Luna didn’t demand he change himself, Luna didn’t order him to pay penance for who he was, Luna didn’t call him evil or retarded or a freak or any other words he had gotten so used to hearing whenever someone who knew him saw him.

“Wild,” Luna called to him, “You are not evil. You are not broken. You do not need help with this part of you. You are simply different from others, and that is not bad. Many people enjoy hurting others in one way or another, and that doesn’t make them evil nor does it make them immoral. Sadists can be and often are very empathetic and loving people.”

Wild swallowed, feeling his throat constrict slightly, and edges of tears prickled in the corners of his eyes. He could be a loving person. He... had never heard it said to him before, and now he truly had no words.

“Can you repeat this after me, please?” Luna said, “I am not evil.”

“I...” he choked, “I am not evil.”

“Good,” her voice was gentle, “Please say ‘I am not to blame for what I cannot control.’”

“I... I am not to blame for, for what I cannot control.”

Another wave of relief hit him, and he sagged in his seat, feeling as if something monumental stopped pressing down on him. Doubt still remained, but the veil of negativity was lifted, and he felt like it was easier to breathe in a way he couldn’t describe.

However, there was one other thing. If he was not evil, if he was not to blame for the pleasure he took in pain, then...

“Why is my soul black?” he decided to ask.

“What do you mean?” Luna seemed confused.

“The... when I am out of my body,” he explained, “I am black, and there is red too,” he chose not to mention the cracks.

“Ah,” Luna nodded in understanding, “Well... I must admit, I do not know. I have seen ghosts before, and they are often translucent, their colors are of people that they are if only noticeably duller. There have been stories of free spirits, who are, as far as I am aware, different from ghosts, but I am afraid I do not know anything more.”

“What about... violent ghosts?”

“They are no different from the others,” Luna said, “There is only a sense of... their emotions, I suppose. It is often rage and anger, and these emotions are often very strong around them. However, all ghosts radiate their emotions, so I truly cannot rightly say. I suppose, in your previous life, you didn’t have the colors you do as a... free spirit?”

Wild shook his head. If his form represented the colors of him, he would be pale, with dark hair, and gray eyes, not entirely black with red eyes and the red glow and the... cracks.

“I promise you I will try to find the answer to your question,” Luna told him, “But, in truth, we know very little about souls. Ghosts are relatively rare, and most of them are generally invisible, only impressions of a person in the surroundings. There would be perhaps a whisper, a sensation, but rarely anything more. You are not a ghost, I am certain of that. And, if I may ask...” Luna hesitated there.

“I died,” Wild admitted freely. At this point, he might as well just say it out loud. Luna knew enough about him to guess it anyway, “And I have now a new body. I didn’t take it away from a person!” he rushed to assure, “I... I just got it,” he shrugged, “I did not look like this before. My, my scars... are with me anyway. The same but... for my new body.”

“Wild,” Luna said, and something in her voice made him look at her directly again, “May I give you a hug?”

He agreed, readily, yearning for the sensation of being held close. The hug was nice and soft and yet firm in a way that hugging a pillow could never feel like, and he couldn’t help himself as he cried. He had certainly bared his soul to Luna on that day, revealed a part of him he had always hated so much, and what he received in turn was... Validation. Lack of judgment. Acceptance.

In truth, it was his innermost desire, and for the first time in a long while, he felt at ease.

He could do it. He could make a new life for himself. He could be good. Just because he liked causing pain didn’t mean he was a bad person. Perhaps, a part of him would always be ready to rise up and call him evil, but, for now...

He could allow himself to hope.

Author's Note

Wild continues thinking unhealthy thoughts, and Luna continues to do her best to help him. As I said previously, sadism isn't bad in itself, and we can't help what we feel, only what we do about it. And a lot of people, to one degree or another, enjoy causing people pain for different reasons in different ways. Basically, what Luna says about sadism is what I think about it.

Wild may have an unhealthy way of thinking regarding Luna, putting her on a pedestal, which is not the kind of thing you should do with any person.

This is also a reminder that you can read more chapters on my Boosty. Currently the story there is on Chapter 50 with Chapter 51 becoming available later today at the time I'm posting this chapter. Also, aside from reading the chapters already available, I'm posting two updates per week there.