I stare into the darkness beyond the stars, and I sigh. My pupils are blown wide; little black holes themselves. This is my night in its rawest form: dark and deep and wondrous. The stars are beautiful, points of light and logic in the tapestry I weave anew each night, and the stars are what the daywalker ponies love the most. Little mimicries of my sister’s sun. But it is this, this true black, that I has always drawn me.

I spread my wings wide, feathers quivering in the still air, and I remember when they were leathern bat-skin. When I saw this dark waiting behind my night sky and dove into it, swimming down and down, losing myself in my own depths. I wanted to show others the beauty that I saw. I wanted to make them see it.

No longer. Now I skim the surface like a swan, loving without losing myself. I wander, and I wonder, but I hold back. I keep myself bound within my own body, and my ambitions bound likewise. And my ponies are learning. Slowly, gradually. Naturally. Now that I am home, they are learning to love me as well as Tia — and through me, the night.

The stars shimmer like silver sand spilled across black marble. I feel the wind beneath my wings and the smooth stone of the balcony beneath my feet. The thrum of the moon cradled in my magic. Enchanted and enchanting.

In this moment, I’m home. Truly, finally home. I am the night, and the night is me.

Author's Note

10 minute speedwrite character sketch. I love Luna.