The Conjuration Wizard

For the first time since the days of their creation, my wondrous items sat resting atop my room’s workstation.

The silver of the laurel leaves gleamed in the dim light of the setting sun, casting faint, delicate reflections as the evening glow slipped between the cracks of the balcony’s curtains. My teashades were neatly folded atop the coils of my belt. Somewhere on the floor, my tattered shirt lay discarded alongside my cloak, forgotten in favor of tending to more pressing concerns.

I laid out the medical supplies before me on my workstation, which I had borrowed from the first aid kit at the train station. Thanks to a quick use of the Vanish spell, lifting them had been almost absurdly easy. Popping a few painkillers, I prepared myself for further pain.

My shoulder throbbed with a relentless, sharp ache. Each pulse of pain was a flash in my mind, each flash an image of the hydra's maw. The pain was a constant, burning presence, a visceral reminder of just how close I had come to death. Cleaning the wound had been a bitch, but I knew it was better to endure the agony now than to gamble with infection later.

I had studied several medical books on wound care and first aid during my hours of time in the library, absorbing their detailed instructions in preparation for situations such as this. In theory, it all seemed straightforward — nothing more than a methodical process of treating and suturing. I knew that cleaning the wounds would suck, but I had assumed stitching myself up wouldn’t be too difficult.

I was wrong.

The wounds on my chest had been manageable, albeit with a few moments of sharp discomfort. But the real challenge lay in the lacerations on my back and left shoulder. Reaching them with mundane means was next to impossible, so I improvised with a hand mirror and a touch of magic. I angled a hand mirror on the table to catch the reflection of my shoulder and cast Mage Hand. The ethereal hand hovered before me, shakily holding the needle and thread. It did not inspire confidence.

“Let’s get this over with,” The first stitch went in, and a sharp twinge shot through my shoulder. “Shit! I should’ve spent more time practicing with this thing!”

Aldin had left sometime ago, claiming to be off on a hunt for his dinner. Just as I started to make some semblance of progress, a knock on my door startled me causing me to prick myself.

“Fuck! Who the hell…?” I grumbled, setting the mirror down with a frustrated sigh.

My eyes darted towards Promise, resting against the wall near the head of my bed. Ever since Luna had gifted it to me, it had become a constant companion. It took conscious effort to leave the blade where it lay.

With a weary sigh, I commanded the Mage Hand to place the needle and thread down, and I opened the door. The Arcane Lock recognized me, allowing me to open the magically locked door with just a simple turn of the knob.

The door creaked open, and to my surprise, Luna stepped inside, her gaze immediately falling on my partially stitched wounds. I had a sinking suspicion that Aldin had led her here.

That little traitor.

“Sebastian,” Luna said, her voice a mixture of concern and incredulity. “What are you doing?”

“Just patching up a little wound,” I replied, trying to sound casual despite the throbbing pain in my shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed as she approached, her tone dropping dangerously low. “A little wound? You’re practically butchering yourself in here! Why didn’t you go to the hospital? Or come to me for help?”

I averted my gaze, finding it impossible to meet the fire in her gaze. “I didn’t want to worry you. It’s not that bad, really. ‘Tis but a flesh wound!”

“Not that bad? Flesh wound?” she repeated, her voice rising slightly with incredulity at each word. My poor choice of words has come to bite me. “Sebastian, that is the worst wound you’ve ever had. Sit down, now.”

There was no arguing with her when she used that tone. I moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. A contradictory mix of relief and anxiety settled into me as Luna sat behind me and began examining my wound.

Her magic flared softly, the cool blue glow inspecting the stitches I had managed to complete on my chest. Her touch was light but firm, each probe making me wince. “The stitching on your chest is adequate, but I’ll take care of the rest.”

I nodded, grimacing as she found a particularly tender spot. “Thank you.”

Her tone softened, though frustration still lingered. “Why didn’t you come to me? You know I am here for you.”

I took a deep breath, scouring my mind for the right words. “I know. I just… I didn’t want to seem weak.”

Luna’s magic paused for a moment, the soft glow of her horn casting shadows across the room. Her eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of something — hurt, maybe — before she masked it with a composed expression. “Weakness isn’t something you should be ashamed of, Sebastian,” she said quietly, her voice gentle yet firm. “Especially not with me.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I let my eyes fall to my hands. The stress of everything that had happened. The missions, the endless hunt for the door, that thing in the mountains, the hydra… It all seemed to crash down on me at once.

Luna resumed her work, her magic manipulating the needle and thread to stitch shut the wound on my shoulder with a level of precision that spoke of years of experience. The pain made itself well known. A dull throbbing sensation that pulsed in time with my heartbeat, but that pain wasn't comparable to the turmoil within my mind.

She worked on in silence. Luna's focus was unwavering as she weaved the stitches to piece together my torn flesh. But there was a weight in the air between us. A sort of tension that I could not ignore.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice gentle yet firm. “Sebastian, tell me what happened out there.”

I hesitated, temporarily at a loss of words. The concern in her eyes, the way she looked at me as if she could see through every wall I’d built, made it impossible to keep the truth hidden. So, I began to speak, slowly at first, then faster as the memories flooded back.

I told her everything — of the Badlands and the death worm, of the Crystal Mountains and the endless, maddening search for the door. I spoke of the creature that knew my name, its horrific voice constituted from a thousand echoes of the same person, and of the nine-headed hydra that should have been four. Then, I told her about the trio of insane, illiterate fillies — how I’d almost died protecting them.

Luna remained silent throughout my ramblings, her magic never faltering as she continued her work. She just listened, her presence steady and unyielding, as if she knew this was something I needed to get out.

I stopped abruptly. The words that spilled free suddenly seemed impossible to bring forth. A raw sensation stabbed through my chest. Luna reached out, and with a gentle hoof, cupped my chin and turned my face towards hers.

“Go on,” she urged. Her tone taking up a soft and coaxing nature.

I took a shaky breath, forcing the next words out. “I put myself between the children and the hydra, but it was all too fast. Before it bit me, all I could think about was… was you.”

Her eyes widened as she searched mine. “Me?”

I nodded. The confession has slipped out before I could second-guess myself. I pushed on. "I thought I was going to die. But all I could think about was that you'd be alone again. I... I never want you to feel alone again." My voice trembled, the emotion I’d been holding back leaking through. “I came straight here because I couldn’t waste time in some hospital, and I figured I could handle the wounds myself. Then I could see you again. I needed to see you again.”

Her expression morphed into one far more tender. An expression that wrung out an ache from my heart that was equal parts painful and beautiful. Leaning in close, she began to stroke my cheek with a hoof. Her breath was warm waves as she spoke. You’re not weak, Sebastian. But you don’t have handle everything on your own. I’m here.”

I swallowed hard. Her words were invaluable, and I found myself not wanting to move. “I just wanted to see your smile again. That’s what kept me going.”

She smiled then, a small, genuine smile that lit up her entire face, a sight that made everything I’d been through worth it. “You’ve done more than that, my dear apprentice.” Her voice a whisper, thick with emotion. “You kept your promise. You came back to me.”

A profound sense of relief filled me. She cared — no, she loved me. I could see it in the way she looked at me and held me.

“I’ll always come back,” each spoken word steadier than the last. “I’ll always find my way back.”

A small, tender smile touched her lips, and she nodded, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I know you will, Sebastian. I know."

She leaned back, nodding slightly as a small smile touched her lips. “Now hold still. I’m nearly done.”

Luna’s soft smile lingered as she finished securing the last stitch. Her magic gently tugged at the thread, making sure the wound was closed properly. The pain persisted as a dull thing that pulled on my nerves. That pain was soothed by Luna's presence and care.

Luna finished and secured the final stitch, sealing my wounds. I couldn't help but to admire her skill with the needle. She had sewed shut my wounds with such finesse that it piqued my curiosity.

“Where did you learn to stitch like that?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

She paused, her magic returning the needle and thread to the kit on the workstation as she looked at me. There was a flash of something distant in her eyes. Memories long buried that could never be forgotten. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, and I nearly began to take back my question. But she began speaking before I could.

“I had to learn,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of a thousand years. “When I was… her… I couldn’t trust anyone. Couldn’t let them see that even a nightmare could bleed.”

She was staring at my stitched shoulder now, as though they carried all the answers to questions unasked. I watched her closely, noticing the way her jaw tightened, the way her eyes grew just a bit more distant. She wasn’t looking at me anymore; she was looking inward, at scars far deeper than the ones of flesh.

Biting back signs of pain, I reached out with my right hand, placing it gently over her hoof. She looked down at our joined limbs — hoof and hand — then back up at me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. I squeezed her hoof lightly, trying to offer her some comfort, some assurance that she was not alone.

“Luna,” I began, my voice soft, careful, “you don’t have to hide anything from me. I’m here, and I want to be here. With you.”

For a moment she hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded. She turned her attention back to me. “There is something I want to share with you, Sebastian,” her voice carrying the same kind of tenderness that had soothed me during the worst of my pain, but it was tinged with trepidation. “But it.. is not easy for me.”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don't want to,” I said. A mixture of anticipation and fear creeping into me. I wanted to truly know Luna, to understand her in a way that no one else could. But, at the same time, I also don't want to push her into needlessly reliving memories that brought her pain.

She gave a small, sad smile. “I want to share this with you. You are important to me.”

With a slow and delicate motion, she grasped my right hand with her hoof and guided it towards her chest. She pressed my palm against the soft fur there. I could feel the warmth emanating from her body, the rhythmic thrums of her heart, and underneath the silky coat, I could feel something else.

A scar.

"This one," she spoke with a steadiness tinged with sorrow, "is from my sister. From the last battle we fought before she banished me to the moon. It nearly ended me."

A shaky breath escaped me. Her words sank deep as my fingers traced the line of the remnant of the ancient wound. Under her fur the scar was well-hidden, but now that I had touched it I knew that I could never unfeel it. The thought of her being so close to death, that she had borne this wound alone, made my chest tighten with something fierce and protective.

“I had to do it myself,” she continued, guiding my hand to another scar, this one on her side — across her ribs. “I was Nightmare Moon, driven by rage and pain. But when the fighting was over… the rage left, and I was alone. But the pain was still there. I couldn’t let anyone see.”

Her voice wavered, but she continued, guiding my hand to her back where I traced another scar, long and jagged. “I stitched every wound myself,” she admitted, her tone heavy with a past pain. “No one could know that Nightmare Moon was vulnerable, that I could ever be hurt.”

I closed my eyes, imagining the torment she must have endured — not just the physical agony but the crushing loneliness that drove her to such lengths. As my thumb brushed lightly over the scar, I felt a faint shiver pass through her.

“I’m here,” I whispered, my voice firm with determination. “And I won’t let anything happen to you. Not now, not ever.”

Her hoof guided my hand back to her chest, just over her heart, as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against my ear. “I know,” she murmured, her voice soft as a secret shared in the dead of night. “That’s why I’m showing you this, Sebastian. Because I… I trust you. And I don’t want to hide from you anymore.”

A thousand words formed and died — without ever being spoken. Her words and the true intimacy of this perfect moment pressed upon my heart and mind. My right hand stayed there, just above her scarred heart. I could feel it... the reassuring rhythm of her heart under my palm. It spoke to me. Strength. Resilience. Love found through the darkness of the past.

Luna's other hoof rose to rest atop my hand. She pressed my hand to her heart with an intensity that told me to never let go. Our eyes locked, and in hers I could see a depth of emotion long hidden and buried. Perhaps hidden and buried out of fear, or some need to shield herself from the scars of the past. The room felt smaller. It was as though the room itself was drawing closer and forcing us to confront the truth that had been simmering between us for some time.

My heart pounded away in my chest like some great war drum. Warmth radiated from Luna. Her proximity banished the chill in the air. The gentle beating of her heart under my palm was steady and strong. Each pulse drawing every ounce of my focus to this moment. To her.

"Luna..." I began, my voice thick with emotion, "I... I love you."

Before I could consider the consequences and catch my words, they had slipped free. Her eyes widened. For a heart wrenching moment fear crossed her face. A shadow of her ever tormenting past seemed to threaten her.

"Sebastian," she whispered. Her hoof trembled against my hand. In those eyes was a battle she was waging within. "You don't understand.. I'm not a good pony." Her eyes darted away from mine. "I'm not worthy of your love. Not after everything I’ve done.”

Her words shook me, but it was the pain and how much she believed those words that truly crushed me. She was punished herself, even now after everything. She was reliving the agony of a thousand years worth of regret and self-loathing. She was a mare who had seen, done, and endured too much. In her eyes she was truly believed she did not deserve love.

“No,” my voice was harder than I intended and the word slipping out like some defiant challenge. “Don’t say that. You are so much more than your past. You have shown me the stars. Guided me when I was lost. Helped me find strength I never knew I had. You are brave, and kind, and... and…” I trailed off. I searched for the right words to say, but every word that came to me were all so woefully inadequate. Then, I found them in her eyes. “I love you, Luna. I love every part of you.”

She blinked. A look of true surprise crossed her features alongside unshed tears. For a moment neither of us moved. My shoulder throbbed with its dull aches of fresh stitches, but I ignored it. This was too important, too fragile, to let go.

Slowly Luna leaned closer, her breath warm against my lips. My room faded to obscurity. The only thing worth attention was the beautiful mare before me. Just a hair's breadth away from me she hesitated. Her eyes searching my own for any sign of doubt, any hesitation at all.

There was none.

I closed the distance, capturing her lips with mine. The kiss was soft, hesitant at first, as though we were both afraid of breaking this fragile moment. But then it deepened, fueled by emotions long buried. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of pain, of love denied.

The taste of her was intoxicating, a heady mix of moonlight and something uniquely her. I could feel the tension in her body slowly melting away as she gave in to the kiss, her hooves tightening slightly around my hand. Her heart beating ever faster in the palm of my hand. My free arm instinctively moved to pull her closer, but the sharp pain in my shoulder made me wince, my injury interrupting the moment. I grimaced, but Luna was already pulling back, concern etched into her features.

"Sebastian," she murmured, her voice laced with worry as her eyes darted to my shoulder. "Your stitches…"

I shook my head. The pain could wait.

“It’s nothing,” I tried to mask the pain from showing in my voice. But the throbbing in my shoulder was making it rather difficult. “This… this is more important.”

Luna’s frown deepened at my words. Her eyes searching mine, and I could see the concern lingering there. She sighed softly, her breath brushing against my cheek as she leaned in, pressing her forehead against mine. The gentle contact was surprisingly comforting.

“My dear apprentice,” her voice was tinged with a sadness that made my heart ache. “You’re always so stubborn.”

A soft chuckle escaped my lips, though it was tinged with a wince as my shoulder protested the movement. “I learned from the best,” I replied.

Luna’s lips curved into a faint smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. With a tenderness that surprised me, she shifted her position, careful not to jostle my raw shoulder. Her hooves were gentle as she guided me to lie down on the bed. I hesitated for a moment. I did not want to surrender to the pain. In my stubbornness and greed I wanted more. More of Luna's kisses, more of her affection, but the look in her eyes brook no room for argument.

Reluctantly, I allowed myself to sink into the mattress. Luna settled beside me, her body a warm presence that pressed against mine. She was careful, her movements deliberate and cautious as she nestled in close. Her head found the crook of my uninjured shoulder and rested there. I could feel the warmth of her breath tickling my neck, and the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

Her closeness was addicting. It was a comfort once tasted became a need. The simple act of being close to Luna captured my focus, and made the pains of my freshly stitched shoulder become something minor in comparison. Her mane draped over my chest like some silken curtain. A rising storm of emotion swirled within me, but it was calmed by the welcomed thrum of her heartbeat that reverberated against my side.

Neither of us spoke. We were content to simply bask in each other's presence. The silence was not an uncomfortable one. It was one filled with a new unspoken understanding of one another that required no words yet. I once again felt that happiness I once felt when Luna first spoke to me of her stars above. A small smile grew on me. It had been more than happiness back then.

Luna's hoof traced small, soothing circles above my heart. Her touch sent shivers through me. I closed my eyes and found myself wishing that this would never end.

“Sebastian,” she whispered after a while, her voice while quiet, was crystal clear in the stillness of my room. I opened my eyes, and turned my head so that I could better see her. Her eyes met mine. In spite of my room's dim lighting I could see the shine of tears gathering in her eyes. “I’ve hurt so many… lost so much… I did not think I could ever find happiness again. I did not think I deserved it.”

My heart clenched at her words. A pain within me that sparked at the pain that laced every syllable she spoke. I wanted to argue with her. To tell her that she was wrong, and that she deserved to be happy. More than that, I wanted her to have all the happiness in the world. But the look in her eyes, the raw vulnerability there, stopped me. This was something she needed to say. This was something she needed to face.

“I was afraid,” she continued, but now her voice trembled ever so slightly. “Afraid that if I let myself care for you, then I’d only bring you pain. I was afraid that I would lose you, like I have lost so many before.”

It was a truth she had carried for far too long. I could see there, in her eyes. Fear. Self-doubt. Guilt. They had clung to her since before her banishment to the moon centuries ago. But, beneath all of that was something more. A beacon that shone with hope.

“I thought,” she whispered, “that I could keep my distance. That, somehow, I could protect you by keeping my heart locked away.”

She paused. Her eyes searching my own for something. Perhaps she saw reassurance there. Perhaps she saw understanding. I hope she did, because that is what I felt. Regardless, whatever she saw was enough to give her the strength to continue.

“You’ve shown me that there is more to life than the shadows of the past. That there is light even in the darkest of places.” Her hoof moved to cup my cheek. “You have given me what I thought I could never have again. Something I thought... I convinced myself that I didn’t deserve.”

She swallowed hard. Her eyes shimmered with tears yet unshed. “You’ve given me love, Sebastian. And I… I love you too.”

Her words hung between us. They were delicate threads that connected our hearts. A rush of emotions came to me. Too many to name, but all of them centered around the mare lying beside me. An intensity had settled into her that left me breathless.

“I love you,” she repeated. Her voice broke as tears spilled over tracing wet paths down her cheeks. “I love you so much that it scares me.”

I reached up. Ignoring the flares of pain from my shoulder I gently wiped away her tears. “Luna,” my voice was now thick with emotion, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

A shaky breath escaped her as she closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. Through my hands I could feel her tremble. But she never pulled away. Instead, she pressed closer. Luna buried her face into the crook of my neck. Her tears dampening my skin.

I held her close. My hand resting on the back of her head. My fingers gently tangling in her mane. The pain in my shoulder had become a faint memory. The memory long since eclipsed by Luna. Eclipsed by the warmth of her body against mine, and by the love that filled every corner of my being.

We laid together and let the world melt away. Within that embrace nothing else mattered except for the sounds of her breathing, the steady beat of her heart, and the warmth of her love enveloping me like a cocoon.

Within that embrace I reached an epiphany.

No matter what the future held, or whatever challenges may come, I had found something worth fighting for. She was worth holding on to with everything I had.

I had found love.

It was the most beautiful, terrifying, and precious thing I had ever known.