The Conjuration Wizard

My room was filled with the soft scratching of quill on paper, a rhythmic sound that never failed to keep me focused as I carefully etched the intricate details of my next spell, the Sepia Snake Sigil. I had cast a Light cantrip upon the wall above my workstation, and it cast a soft glow over my spellbook. My desk was cluttered with ink bottles, spare quills, and scraps of notes detailing various incantations and arcane symbols.

All commonplace signs of my process for the creation of spells.

Outside, the colors of autumn painted the landscape in wonderful hues of red, gold, and brown, though most of the fall scenery itself was unfortunately hidden behind the walls of the castle or muted due to distance. My room was warm still, but the autumn chill had begun to creep in through the cracked balcony door as the night marched on. Leaving a door or window cracked during the colder seasons was a habit brought with me from Earth, and while it did bring down the temperature of my room, the cold served as a constant reminder that the season had reached its peak and the greater world still marched on. The air that snuck through the cracked door carried the faint smell of leaves, damp earth, and that distinct crispness that always came with fall. It was the kind of refreshing cold that reminded you the world was shifting, preparing for the coming winter.

The warmth inside was more than enough for me, especially with Luna nearby.

I paused for a moment, lifting the quill from paper as my fingers flexed stiffly, muscles tight from hours of writing. Leaning back in the chair, I cast a glance toward my bed. Luna lay sprawled across it, her flowing mane cascading like a river of midnight stars against the gray sheets and pillows. Her relaxed posture made her look every bit the ethereal goddess I saw her to be. But it wasn’t me she was talking to.

No, instead her attention was on Aldin, who perched at the edge of the bed, his feathers puffed up as he hooted away in that unique blend of clicks and whistles that only I could fully comprehend. Luna, however, seemed entertained, her hoof tucked under her chin as she listened intently, amusement flickering across her features despite not understanding a single word that Aldin spoke.

“I must admit, it’s fascinating how talkative you’ve become lately,” Luna said with a teasing smile, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You’ve been rather secretive up until now.”

Aldin shot me a sideways glance, his feathers ruffling with smug satisfaction before letting out a long, exaggerated hoot. To anyone else, it would’ve sounded like a typical owl’s call. But to me, unfortunately, it was crystal clear.

“Secretive? Hah! More like biding my time,” Aldin replied, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Besides, I don’t think Luna would appreciate everything I have to say. Especially about you two.”

My grip tightened on the quill as I shot him a warning glance over the rim of my teashades. His feathers puffed up slightly as if to feign innocence, but the smug amusement rolling through our empathic link told me exactly where this was going.

Luna’s ears twitched, and she glanced over at me, one eyebrow raised in question. “What did he say?”

“Oh, you know, owl stuff,” I said with a casual wave, dipping the quill back into the inkwell. “Nothing too important.”

“Owl stuff?” she repeated, her brow arching higher in amused skepticism.

I gave a nonchalant shrug, turning my attention back to the nearly completed spell. “Yeah, he's just trying to stir the pot.”

“Hmm,” Luna mused, her expression thoughtful but still playful. “He does seem to enjoy doing that.”

Aldin let out a sharp hoot of mock offense. “Enjoy? Princess, I don’t just enjoy it — I thrive on it. Especially when my favorite subject comes up.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “And what would that be?”

“Oh, nothing too important,” Aldin said, a wicked glint in his eyes. “You two just had to beat each other half to death before getting it on. Subtle, really, by the way. And don’t even get me started on the sex itself. I’m pretty sure if it had been daytime, at least half the castle would have heard you going at it like a pair of lovesick rabbits. And that is no exaggeration.”

The quill in my hand nearly snapped. My shoulders tensed, and I froze mid-stroke, feeling a rush of embarrassment surge through me. Aldin’s smug satisfaction practically flooded our link. Of course, he felt everything I felt. During that night… he’d certainly had a front-row seat to feel all of it thanks to our connection. We had been anything but subtle during that night; the heat of passion had gotten the better of us.

Fuck me.

“Sebastian?” Luna’s voice was filled with that calm, teasing edge she always used when she knew I was hiding something.

Clearing my throat, keeping my tone as steady as I possibly could. “Nothing. Aldin’s just… being Aldin.”

I shot him a murderous look, but he only puffed up his feathers more, his clicks now resembling what could only be described as owlish laughter. “Oh, come on, Seb. It’s not like she didn’t feel the same thing, after all. You were practically burning through the link. I’m surprised you two didn’t set the whole damn castle on fire.”

My face burned hotter, and I finally set the quill down to massage the bridge of my nose. “Best-buddy, do me a favor and shut up.”

But Aldin didn’t shut up, instead he kept going. “Shut up? Oh, come now, I’m just saying… maybe tone it down next time. You two made it really hard for me to nap with all that intensity, and frankly, it was exhausting.”

Luna tilted her head, her gaze bouncing between Aldin and I. She couldn’t understand the words, but she was reading my body language well enough. “Sebastian, what exactly is he saying?”

I exhaled sharply, sending Aldin another glare. “He’s reminding me that the link of ours is a little more detailed than I’d prefer it to be.”

For a moment, her expression resembled shock, but it quickly shifted into a sly smirk. "Oh, I understand now," Luna said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "It's not very polite to pry into such personal moments, Aldin."

Aldin fluffed his feathers, completely unbothered. “Pry? Princess, I don’t pry. I merely notice. Especially when things get… heated.”

I groaned, running a hand through my hair as Luna’s teasing gaze landed back on me, she was clearly enjoying every second of this exchange. “I swear, Aldin, if you don’t drop this…”

Aldin, true to form, was relentless. “You can’t blame me, Seb. I mean, it's not my fault I felt everything. It’s not exactly easy to un-feel something like that.”

His amusement was evident through our link, and it took every ounce of willpower not to snap and strangle him. Luna chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. Clearly, she was enjoying my reactions far too much, and my embarrassment found a way to increase.

“Sebastian,” she began, her voice a velvety tease. “It’s understandable if you’re feeling a little… exposed.”

I groaned inwardly. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

"It seems," she remarked with a smirk, her tone tinged with mirth, "you’ve met your match."

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and running a hand through my hair. “He’s like an annoying little brother. One that you can’t get rid of.”

Aldin's hooting laughter echoed through the room. “Aww, c'mon now, Seb. Admit it, you love me!”

I shot him a glare, though I couldn’t hide the grin tugging at my lips. “Some days more than others.”

He snickered in a way that only he could, satisfied with getting under my skin, but mercifully shifted his attention towards taking a nap.

Finally, I could focus.

Working fast, I finished the last of the lines of the Sepia Snake Sigil dried on the page of my spellbook, and I closed it with a sense of triumph. The spell had been eluding me for a while, but now it was finally part of my arsenal. Suspended animation wasn’t something I’d need often, but when I did, it would be a lifesaver.

I would just have to keep in mind that the spell doesn't keep those under its effect safe from harm.

Satisfied, I murmured the incantation for Secluded Grimoire, watching as my spellbook shimmered, then vanished into the Ethereal Plane. A neat little trick I’d grown increasingly fond of — it was like having a pocket dimension for all my arcane notes. Safe, untouchable, and it looks cool as hell to summon a spellbook this way.

The room settled into a comforting quiet, save for the occasional rustle of sheets or the soft snores from Aldin, now curled up and asleep in his usual spot on the bookshelf. Luna’s presence was felt more than seen, her gaze never wavering, though there was a hint of quietness in her now. She had been watching me work the entire time since Aldin took to sleep, her eyes thoughtful, as if weighing something unspoken between us. It was a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable — more like the calm before a conversation yet to happen. I could feel it building, the subtle pull between us, waiting for the right moment to surface.

“It’s growing colder,” Luna mused softly, almost contemplative. “Autumn is ending, and winter is not far behind.” She paused, a playful lilt creeping in as she added, "A princess could use some warmth during these chilly days. My chambers have a tendency to get... drafty."

I raised an eyebrow, catching the faintest flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Is that so? Your chambers are drafty now?”

Luna nodded with exaggerated seriousness, though the corner of her lips twitched into a coy smile. "Indeed. It seems I’m in need of... additional warmth."

I couldn't help but smile at her choice of words. It would be near impossible for me to mistake the playful dance in her tone, and I couldn't resist joining in on the game.

“Oh?” I stepped toward my bed, crossing my arms. “And what exactly are you suggesting? I’m sure I can whip up a spell or two to solve this problem.”

With a sigh of mock exasperation, Luna sat up, her mane flowing like liquid starlight around her. “I’m merely inviting you to my bedchambers, Sebastian. Unless, of course, you’re so averse to the idea of keeping your princess warm."

The humor in her words couldn’t hope to mask the obvious invitation, and my pulse quickened at the thought. Luna’s bedchambers — her private space. I hadn’t set foot in there before, despite the growing intimacy between us. The thought of entering that space, not as her apprentice, but as something much more personal, sent a thrill through me.

How could I ever say no?

“Well,” I said, trying to keep my tone light despite the thunder in my chest, "when you put it that way, how could I ever possibly refuse?"

Pleased, Luna’s smile deepened as she slid gracefully out of my bed. The soft glow from the Light spell weaved shadows around her, making her seem even more otherworldly, akin to something straight out of myth.

“Come,” she said softly, her voice dropping to a lower, more intimate timbre as she gestured for me to follow. “I imagine you’ll be quite useful at keeping the cold at bay.”

There was something in the way she looked at me, with affection that was growing more common in our more quiet moments together. I found myself wondering how many others had ever seen this side of her.

The answer, I knew, was none.

With a subtle nod, I stepped toward her, feeling the weight of the moment settling over us. The air between us hummed with a quiet intensity as we left the room together, the stillness of the night enveloping us like a shared secret. With one last glance back into my room, I checked on Aldin, curled up and peacefully asleep, the sight of him sound asleep brought me a small smile.

Luna and I walked in silence through the quiet halls of the castle, her soft hoofsteps barely echoing off the stone floor. Shadows flickered from the lanterns lining the walls, their light dancing across her flowing mane like constellations shifting in the currents of the cosmos. The world beyond the castle faded into irrelevance, leaving just the two of us in this quiet, private reality. The silence wasn't empty but filled with something far more valuable, a connection that needed no words.

Luna led the way, graceful even in the simple act of walking. The light from the lanterns refusing to fully touched her, as if the night itself bent around her and barred the light from intruding too close. I had grown accustomed to her ethereal presence, but there was something about moments like this one that made it all feel more real, more personal.

I wouldn't trade these moments for anything.

Soon enough, we ascended one of the two tallest spires of the castle — a place I had never stepped foot in before, a part of her world I had yet been invited to enter. The door to her chambers was simple but elegant, a white crescent moon carved into its dark wood. With a soft glow of her magic, the door opened, and we stepped inside.

The room was vast, but it felt strangely intimate, as if the very air here was shaped by her presence. A grand fireplace crackled with a low, comforting fire, its light throwing off a warm, flickering glow over the room. Tall windows revealed the vast expanse of the night sky and the greater portions of Canterlot below. A large canopy bed stood at the center, draped in deep blue curtains that shimmered faintly in the firelight, their color mirroring the twilight outside.

This was her sanctuary, the place where she had spent many days since her return, alone with the weight of the heavens on her shoulders. And now, she had invited me into this space, a gesture that felt as significant to me as her manipulations of the moon and stars themselves. I felt a knot of tension ease in my chest, a quiet sense of belonging taking its place.

Luna moved to one of the windows, her gaze tracing the eastern horizon where the faintest hint of dawn was beginning to brush the edges of the sky. With a soft breath, she called upon her magic, and the moon began its slow, graceful descent towards the western horizon. Watching her command the heavens, a task so monumental yet performed with such ease, always struck me with awe. A task she always makes seem so effortless, yet it carried the weight of her role as the Princess of the Night.

As the moon sank below the horizon, leaving the sky to the approaching dawn, she turned to me with a gentle smile adorning her lips. “The night has ended,” she said, her voice soft, nearly a whisper. “And with it, we must find our rest.”

Her words, so simple, were borne from the hours we shared together — the quiet moments, the intimacy, the tenderness shared. A quiet joy that was still so very new, but felt so very right blossomed within me. She stood at the center of the room, already undoing the pieces of her royal regalia.

One by one, her crown, peytral, and silver shoes found their place on a small table beside her bed. With each item shed, it was as though a layer of formality fell away from her, leaving behind the mare I loved — not the warrior princess or the guardian of the night, but just Luna. My Luna.

She caught me watching, a playful gleam flickering in those eyes of hers. “Are you just going to stand there?” she teased, her voice light, carrying the familiar cadence that would never fail to tug at my heartstrings. "Or do you plan to join me?"

With a soft laugh, I tugged my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. The cool air nipped at my skin, especially where the fresh scars on my left shoulder still tingled faintly. For a moment, my fingers lingered over them, tracing the rough texture. They were new, and they still surprised me when they caught my eye. Fully healed, yes — but they were still a part of me, just as much as hers are a part of her.

Luna's eyes flickered briefly to my shoulder, but there was no concern in her gaze — only understanding. Her own scars, hidden beneath her fur, were as much a part of her as the moon and stars she commanded. In silence, we shared this unspoken bond, a connection that ran deeper than words, deeper than wounds.

I discarded the rest of my gear onto a nearby chair and turned toward her. Her gaze traced the lines of my body with the same quiet affection that always managed to put me at ease. There was nothing to hide between us anymore.

No roles, no masks. Just us. Luna and I.

Without a word, she slipped into her bed, her magic lifting the edge of the blankets in invitation. I slid in beside her, the cool fabric of the sheets quickly warming as Luna nestled in close, her mane a cascade of starlight against my skin. Her scent — of night air and lavender — enveloped me, a fragrance I had come to associate with her presence.

Gently, I took her hoof in my hand, lifting it to my lips for a soft kiss. Then, with a tender touch, I traced my fingers along her foreleg, following the familiar contours until I reached the scar just above her heart. She inhaled softly but made no move to pull away. Instead, a quiet hum of contentment escaped her as I brushed my fingers over the ridge of the scar.

"You like it when I do this," I murmured, my voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

A small smile played at her lips, her eyes still closed. "Perhaps," she whispered, her tone playful, though the truth lay just beneath it.

Leaning down, I pressed a soft kiss to her temple, and she sighed, nuzzling in closer. Her horn lightly brushed my cheek, sending a faint tingle through my skin. I couldn’t help but chuckle. "So this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?" I teased. "Invite me here just to use me as your personal heater?"

Luna opened one eye, her expression the picture of innocence, though the glimmer in her gaze betrayed her. "I would never do such a thing," she said, though her voice was laced with mirth.

I laughed quietly, the sound low and soft in the stillness of her bedroom. The banter between us had always been light, effortless — but now, it felt wrapped in something deeper. Before I could respond and continue our little exchange, a faint ray of sunlight crept through the window, casting a warm glow over the edge of the bed. Luna’s eyes followed it, and she let out a displeased groan.

"Must we endure this intrusion so soon?" she muttered, pouting ever so slightly.

I grinned. "You could always ask your sister to delay sunrise."

"She’d never agree," Luna muttered, casting a glare toward the offending light. "She takes too much pride in her punctuality."

With a swift flick of her magic, the blankets were lifted and draped over our heads, cocooning us in soft, velvety darkness. I chuckled as Luna settled back in, scrunching her nose in defiance of the daylight.

"Now," she whispered, thoroughly satisfied, "the day cannot reach us."

In the warm darkness beneath the covers, our faces were a mere few inches apart. I could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breath soft and even. Her eyes, though half-lidded, still sparkled with that quiet affection I had come to hold so dear to my heart.

I leaned in, our foreheads touching, and a small smile on my lips. "You’re adorable when you pout," I whispered, brushing my thumb along her cheek.

She scoffed lightly, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed her amusement. "I do not pout," she insisted, taking up a mock regal tone, but there was no bite behind her words. "I’m merely displeased with the sun's timing."

"Of course," I murmured, kissing the tip of her nose. "My mistake, Princess."

Luna hummed in approval, her hoof sliding to rest on my side as she nestled even closer. In the quiet, beneath the blankets, with the world shut out and only the steady warmth of her body pressed against mine, everything felt… right.

Perfect, even.

"I could get used to this," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could catch them. They felt as natural as breathing.

Her eyes fluttered open just enough for me to catch the tender smile on her lips. "You’d better," she whispered back, her voice soft but filled with certainty. "Because I don’t intend to let you go."

And with that, there was no need for any more words. As the light outside tried and failed to breach our sanctuary, we drifted off, lulled to sleep by the quiet rhythm of each other’s breathing. In that moment, as I closed my eyes, I realized that this — being here, with her — was all I ever needed.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_

The dream settled in slowly, like the soft fall of a heavy cloak. At first, I didn’t understand where I was or why everything felt so strangely familiar. The air was thick, almost suffocating, but it wasn’t oppressive. It was... lonely. Then, like the slow unfurling of a distant memory, the place came into focus.

I stood in the middle of a vast, empty expanse. The ground beneath my feet was smooth, an endless stretch of polished obsidian that reflected the dim, unnatural light above. There was no sky — just the glowing orb high above, casting a pale, sickly glow across the landscape. It wasn’t a real sun, but I knew what it was.

It was the Singularity, waiting to be set in motion.

If that was the Singularity, then this must be Meridin’s demiplane.

I blinked, and the realization hit me hard: I wasn’t me. I was Meridin — his hands, his body, his scars, and all his weight pressing down upon my shoulders. The memory of his existence surrounded me like a heavy shroud, tugging me further into his world. He looked just like just me, only older, worn down by the passage of decades and the constant weight of impossible choices.

A soft hoot broke the silence, and I turned to see Aldin perched on a smooth obsidian pillar nearby, his feathers ruffled, eyes sharp and bright. His beak clicked in frustration as he hopped down, pacing back and forth before me. His usual teasing, sarcastic demeanor was discarded, replaced by something far more urgent.

“You can't do this, Meridin!” Aldin’s voice was filled with desperation I had never seen before. His wings flared, and he flapped over to me, settling on the ground in front of me as he peered up with wide, pleading eyes. “Are you truly this mad? There’s still time — we can fight the Malignance another way. You have to try something else.”

The words echoed in my mind, but they didn’t feel like mine. This was Meridin’s conversation, his moments. I felt myself respond, but the words came from somewhere deeper, somewhere older than I.

“There is no other way, Aldin.” My voice sounded different — deeper, more burdened. “The Singularity is the only chance we have left. You know this as well as I do. It’s the only thing that can end it.”

Aldin’s feathers puffed up, his eyes flashing with anger. “End it? You mean unmake it? Or unmake us? You don’t even know if it’ll actually work! All you’ll be doing is erasing everything — you, me, this demiplane! And even if you succeed, what then? The rest of existence will forget you ever even existed!”

I clenched my fists, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than I wanted to admit. Aldin wasn’t wrong, and somewhere, deep inside, Meridin knew that too. But the truth — my truth — was undeniable. “We’ve already lost too much,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “I don’t even remember who we’ve lost anymore, Aldin. Like... pieces of my soul have been ripped out, and all that’s left is the emptiness. You’re the only one left that I can remember. Everyone else is...”

Aldin’s beak clacked again, but this time it was softer, almost mournful. “And if you go through with this, I won’t even have the memory of you. You’ll be gone, Meridin. Erased from time. From me.”

I swallowed hard, fighting back the rising tide of emotion that threatened to break through. The pain of it was almost unbearable, the idea of leaving Aldin behind, of being forgotten by the last person who had stood by my side through everything.

But what other choice is there?

“I can’t let the Malignance win,” I whispered, hating myself and the situation equally. “Not after everything — everyone it’s taken. I owe that much to them.”

Aldin stepped closer, his wings dropping as he looked up at me with sad, determined eyes. “Then fight it,” he said. “Just one more time. One last fight before you do something that can’t be undone. Don’t give up hope — not yet. You owe that much to me.”

The silence stretched between us, heavy and oppressive. Aldin’s words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I let myself imagine it. One last battle. One last chance to win, to save what was left without resorting to the Singularity.

Could it work?

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’ll fight it,” I said, the words feeling heavier than anything I had ever spoken. “One last time. But I can’t promise victory, Aldin. Not this time.”

Aldin let out a soft hoot, his wings fluttering as he perched upon my shoulder, nuzzling against my cheek. “That’s all I ask,” he whispered. “Just one more chance.”

The weight of the decision settled over me like a crushing wave. I looked up at the Singularity hovering above us, its pale sickly light casting long shadows that seemed to stretch on forever across the empty plane. It was waiting, patient and silent, for the moment when I would release it and everything within this demiplane would cease to be.

But not now. Not yet. Not until the final battle was fought.

I turned to Aldin, my heart twisting with what I had to do next. He had been with me through everything — through every victory, every loss, every moment of despair and hope. But now, I had to send him away. I couldn’t let him stay for what was to come next.

“Forgive me,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I raised a hand. The familiar words of a spell came to my lips, the incantation soft and mournful as it filled the air between us. Aldin’s eyes widened in realization, and flapped his wings frantically.

“No — Meridin, don’t! You promised!”

“I promised to fight,” I said, the spell gathering strength as my fingers traced the air. “But you can’t stay for this. You can’t—”

“I won’t leave you!” Aldin screeched, his wings flapping wildly as he tried to reach me. “You can’t send me away like this! Don’t you dare!”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away as I finished the spell. “I’m sorry, best-buddy. I’m so sorry.”

As I reached out and lightly tapped him atop his head, the magic surged forward and wrapped around Aldin in a soft, glowing light. He screeched again, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation as the spell took hold. His form shimmered, beginning to fade as the Plane Shift activated, sending him away to the Boneyard where the Lady of Graves promised to take care of him.

"Meridin!" Aldin’s voice echoed in the empty void, a final cry of desperate protest before being whisked away fully.

And then… silence.

I stood alone. The absence of Aldin’s presence struck harder than I expected, leaving a hollow, aching space where he’d been moments before. My breath came in shallow, uneven bursts as I struggled to process the emptiness that clung to me like a second skin. There was nothing left here — no comfort, no warmth. Just the cold certainty of what was to come.

I looked up at the Singularity, its light casting eerie shadows across the featureless expanse of the demiplane. The orb hovered, patient and indifferent as always, waiting for the moment when I would finally release it. That moment would come soon — too soon — but not yet. I had promised Aldin that I would fight, one last time. I honor my promises.

But I was so tired.

The weight of all I had lost pressed down on me, suffocating in its heaviness. Faces danced at the edge of my mind — blurry, indistinct, smoke on the wind. There used to be so many people there, so many faces. Friends. Allies. Lovers, perhaps? I couldn’t remember. No matter how hard I tried to hold on to them, they slipped away, erased from existence, from the very fabric of time itself. The Malignance had taken them all, unmade them in ways I could barely comprehend. I knew I had cared for them, loved them, fought for them, even died for them a few times. But now, they were nothing more than vague impressions, scattered fragments of a life that had once been full.

And soon, I would be joining them.

I closed my eyes, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. Aldin had been the last one, the only one who still stood by my side after all this time. He had seen me through every battle, every loss, every moment of doubt. But now he was gone too, sent away to a place where I knew for certain that he would be safe. Where he wouldn’t have to witness what came next. Where he wouldn’t have to remember me.

That was the cruelest part of all, wasn’t it? Even if I succeeded, even if I managed to set off the Singularity and unmake the Malignance, it wouldn’t matter. I would be gone. Wiped clean from the fabric of reality, erased from everyone's memories. The victories I’d won, the sacrifices I’d made — they would all vanish, leaving everything I had ever done to be attributed to no one.

What kind of legacy was that?

I chuckled softly, the sound bitter and hollow in the vast emptiness of the demiplane. A legacy built on nothing. A fight for survival where the only reward was oblivion.

Was this really how it ended? After everything I had endured, after all the battles and the bloodshed, after all the lives lost and forgotten — this was the best I could hope for? A quiet, empty place where I could fade into nothingness, unnoticed, unremembered?

I stared down at my hands, scarred and worn from decades of strife. They trembled slightly as I clenched them into fists, the weight of the years pressing down on me, ever heavier. I had been fighting for so long. I couldn’t even remember why I had started anymore. Was it for revenge? For justice? For duty?

It didn’t matter now. None of it mattered.

All that remained was this final choice. This one last act. My swan song.

I would face the Malignance one last time, as I had vowed. A promise made, though I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be enough. The Malignance was inevitable. Unstoppable. It had already unmade gods, left entire cities unmade it its wake, and has already begun to chip away at the different planes. How could I hope to stand against it?

I had fought this abomination before, together alongside others just as strong as I. And together we failed. Now, I stood alone.

My gaze drifted up to the Singularity, it was pulsing faintly. It waited, biding its time until I would unleash it. That moment would come soon — sooner than I wanted. When it did, there would be nothing left. The Malignance, the demiplane, and I.

All undone.

At least in the unmaking, there would be peace.

A tremor rippled through the air. Faint, like a whisper on the wind, but I felt it keenly. My breath caught, and I stilled. There it was. A shift, barely perceptible, but undeniable in its intensity.

It was coming.

The Malignance.

I could sense it now, pressing against the edges of the demiplane, testing the wards I had erected to both keep it out and lure it in. Its presence was suffocating — a mass of nothingness, twisting in ways that defied thought and reality. It had no form, no face, no true outline to focus on — just a relentless hunger to unmake everything in its path.

My pulse quickened as I turned toward the horizon. Thin, jagged cracks appeared, snaking through the fabric of the demiplane like fractures in glass. Darkness oozed through, spreading, infecting. The ground trembled beneath the weight of the Malignance, and the very air around me seemed to want to unravel.

This was the end.

I took a slow breath, steeling myself for what was to come. I would fight, as I had promised Aldin. I would stand against the Malignance, even if it meant nothing in the end.

But the truth hung heavy. I was already forgotten. Already erased.

The cracks widened, and the nothingness surged.

Everything shattered.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_

I gasped, my body jerking awake, heart pounding as if I had just emerged from deep waters. The world was hazy, my thoughts scattered in my waking, and for a brief moment, I couldn’t place where I was exactly. The emotions from the memory clung to me, while its specifics were slipping through my fingers like so many grains of sand as I tried to grasp ahold of it.

But it was already gone from my mind, already forgotten.

The memory slipped further and further away, receding into the shadows of sleep as I desperately tried to cling to it. Whatever I had just dreamt — whoever I had lost — was quickly fading, leaving behind only a gnawing ache in my chest. My mind grasped at those shadows, but the harder I tried to remember, the more distant it became, until all that was left was the overwhelming sense that something precious had been torn from me.

I shifted slightly, the sorrow pressing against my ribs, suffocating in its intensity. The warmth surrounding me, though, was real — solid and soft, a welcomed contrast to the dark pit left by the forgotten dream.

Luna.

She was here, her body curled against mine, her gentle breath rising and falling in time with the slow rhythms of sleep. The scent of her fur — ever familiar and comforting — solidified me in the present moment, even as the lingering misery refused to release its hold.

My movement must have disturbed her, for she stirred beside me, she let out a sleep-heavy sigh that filled the quiet of her bedchamber. She shifted, and before I could react, her forelegs wrapped around me, pulling me tighter into her embrace. Her chest pressed against my face. The steady beating of her heart was all that I could hear, its drowning tempo stamping out the remnants of the dream with each lovely beat of her heart.

I inhaled slowly, trying to calm myself. The warmth of her body radiated through me, easing the tension that formed knots in my muscles. Luna’s hold was firm yet tender, and even in her sleep, she seemed to know I needed this. Her fur was soft against my cheek, her scent soothing the restless sorrow that lingered at the edges of my thoughts.

I closed my eyes, letting myself melt into her embrace. The rhythm of her life, the gentleness of her touch — it was all I wanted to focus on now. Slowly, the sorrow ebbed away, replaced by a quiet comfort. Luna was here, with me, in this moment. I wasn’t alone. Whatever feelings of grief that the dream had tried to leave behind was being slowly pushed back by Luna’s presence.

Her heart beat against my ear, a constant that ensured me that she was real, that I was here, safe in her bed. The daylight pressed faintly at the edges of the curtains, but that didn’t matter. The light and the world beyond this room was irrelevant. All that mattered to me was the soft rise and fall of her chest beneath my head, the warmth of her body entwined with mine, and the love that burned away the dream's pain.

I pressed myself closer to her, breathing in the scent of her, seeking solace in the way her body enveloped mine. The misery that had gripped me so tightly just a few moments ago began to loosen its hold on me. Luna’s presence filled the empty space the dream had left behind, soothing the unspoken grief.

I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, wrapped in her embrace, but the familiar weight of sleep began to pull at me again, the sorrow still present but far duller now than before. Luna’s hold on me never loosened, her forelegs pulling me closer as if, even in her dreams, she could sense my need for her.

The memory of the dream had long since slipped from my mind, vanishing into the great haze of slumber. Yet the ache it had left behind remained akin to a ghost that refused to pass on.

But a question still gnawed at me. It was buried deep in the pit of my stomach, unrelenting despite the comfort of her love.

Who had I forgotten?