The Conjuration Wizard

I sat cross-legged on the floor of my room, my eyes affixed to the quill resting before me. The room dim, with the evening light casting soft shadows across the walls. The air felt heavy, still, as if the very air itself was waiting for something to happen. On the bed, Aldin perched silently, his round eyes watching me with a mixture of curiosity and mild amusement. His feathers ruffled slightly as he shifted, clearly unimpressed by the whole ordeal.

"You're overthinking it again, Seb," Aldin broke the room’s silence, his voice a familiar blend of crass humor and wisdom. "It's just a feather."

I exhaled slowly, glancing at the worn book beside me, Basic Magic for Unicorn Foals. The slim blue volume looked harmless enough, its simplicity mocking me in the face of the herculean task at hand.

Telekinesis.

Something unicorn foals learned instinctively at an early age. And here I was, a grown ass man, struggling to move a quill.

"It’s a quill. You’d think I'd have this down by now, mastered it even," I muttered, my voice thick with frustration. My hand hovered over the quill, fingers trembling slightly as I tried to focus. “I can throw Fireballs around, summon all sorts of things, and more, but I’m stopped by the magic that foals do by accident!”

"That’s because foals aren’t all in their heads about it," Aldin replied, his beak clacking as if he were rolling his eyes — if owls could do such a thing. "You're trying to control it like it’s one of your spells. Like you said, unicorn magic isn’t about measuring or calculating. You have to let it flow, remember?"

Flow. That’s what the damned book kept repeating. Unicorn magic came from both the user and the world around them, blending into something natural and effortless. But for me, there was nothing effortless about it, especially since I lacked the natural advantage of a horn. My arcane magic was all about precision, and structure — it followed strict rules and patterns to both function and for caster safety. But this? This was anathema, an alien force I struggled to grasp no matter how many hours I spent trying.

I took another deep breath and tried to clear my mind. Focus on the quill. Visualize it moving. Let your magic flow through the world.

But nothing happened. The quill refused my will, and stayed stubbornly still. That spiteful fucking feather!

"Come on, Seb. You’ve got this." Aldin’s tone was softer now, though still edged with his usual bluntness. "Stop thinking like a wizard for two seconds."

I closed my eyes, trying to shake off the frustration building in my chest. I wasn’t a wizard right now. I wasn’t the apprentice of a princess, or some spellcaster wielding fire and summons. I was just… me. And I needed to stop thinking that I could force the quill to move through sheer willpower alone.

Let it flow.

Slowly, I opened my eyes again and focused. Not on moving the quill, but on the space around it. On what lay there, hidden away from mundane sight. I could almost feel the energy in the air — subtle, like the faintest breeze that brushed past unnoticed unless you stopped to pay attention. This wasn’t about pulling the magic from within, or shaping it with careful intent. It was about finding the current and following it.

For a moment, I felt something. A flicker, a hum just beneath the surface of my skin. My right hand tingled, the faintest trace of warmth pooling in my palm. It wasn’t the usual crackle of arcane energy, the sharp precision of my more familiar arcane magic taking form. No, this was softer, more diffuse. It wasn’t mine, not entirely.

"That’s it," Aldin encouraged. "You’re close!"

I kept my focus, feeling the flow of magic around me, through me. My fingers twitched, my palm glowing faintly as a soft hazel aura began to shimmer around my hand. The golden center of my magic flared gently, encircled by the deep green that bled outward like a slow, pulsing heartbeat. Almost like it was alive.

Within my mind’s eye, I visualized the quill moving — just a little, just an inch.

The aura pulsated in my hand, a hazel light struggled to envelope the quill. For a second, nothing happened. I could feel the strain building in my chest, the same physical exhaustion creeping in that had plagued me every time I practiced this kind of magic. My muscles protested, my breath quickened, but my focus was resolute.

Then, my aura surrounded the quill, wrapping it in the soft glow of my magic.

It twitched.

"Yes," I whispered under my breath, eyes widened with hope. "Come on! Come to papa!"

The quill shifted slightly, moving an inch across the stone floor.

An inch.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The hazel glow vanished as I released my grip on the magic, my hand dropping to my side, as heavy as a stone from exhaustion. My heart raced, but I smiled, the smallest bit of triumph blooming in my chest.

"You did it," Aldin said, his voice filled with quiet pride, though there was still a trace of teasing there. "An inch. Maybe you won’t completely embarrass yourself at a magic kindergarten after all."

I chuckled, too tired to retort. My entire body felt drained, as though I’d just finished a particularly taxing run. It was ridiculous, how much effort it took to move something so small. But I had done it. Finally. After hours, days of failure, I had moved the damn quill an inch.

Who needs horns? I have like ten of them attached to my hands!

"’Suppose an inch is a decent enough start," I murmured, leaning back against the bed frame, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

Aldin fluffed his feathers, his head tilting as he looked me over. "Not bad for a human trying to learn unicorn magic."

I smiled weakly at him, grateful for his presence. Despite all the teasing and the tough love, Aldin had stuck by me through this slog. He had witnessed me struggle, fail, and now, finally, make some progress.

"Yeah, not bad," I agreed, closing my eyes for a moment, basking in the sense of accomplishment as it washed over me.

The quill sat motionless again on the floor, but this time, I knew I could move it. Maybe not easily, not yet. But I could do it. That proof of concept proved that soon enough I would be able to do more. Maybe even experiment with a little mixing of arcane and unicorn magics. My fingers twitched, itching to try again, but I leaned back for a moment, granting myself time to relax.

I hadn’t told Luna about the practice. I could imagine the look of surprise on her face, those brilliant eyes of hers widening in a mixture of shock and curiosity. She was always so attuned to the arcane, her magic flowing as naturally as the night she commanded.

For me, though? This was a challenge.

And I am a sucker for a challenge.

I smiled, the exhaustion was already starting to ebb away, giving way to that familiar hum of determination. There was something about figuring this out, about tapping into a new facet of magic. It was exhilarating.

Aldin’s voice broke through my thoughts. "You're thinking too much again, aren’t you?"

I glanced over at him, perched comfortably on the bed, his feathers puffed slightly in that casual way of his. His sharp eyes were trained on me, but they softened with the knowing look he always seemed to give when he thought I was lost in my head.

"Yeah, probably," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “Just thinking about how Luna’s gonna react when she finds out about this. She has no idea I’ve been trying my hand at unicorn magic.”

Aldin chuckled, his beak clicking. "She’ll probably think you’re a glutton for punishment when she sees how much it wipes you out."

"Yeah, well, temporary exhaustion is but a small price to pay," I said with a shrug, glancing at the quill again. “Besides, the more I practice, the less tired this kind of magic makes me. Maybe it’s getting easier, or my constitution is improving? Hmmm…”

I could hear the soft rustling of Aldin’s feathers as he stretched, the sounds of flapping filling the space between us for a moment. Then, something else stirred in the back of my mind, a thought that hadn’t surfaced in a long while, but one that had always lingered. I looked back at Aldin, curiosity tugging at me.

"Hey… best-buddy, do you remember anything about Meridin?" I asked, leaning forward slightly, my voice quieter now.

Aldin blinked, his round eyes growing more serious. He tilted his head to the side, considering the question for a moment before answering. “Not much, really,” he said after a pause. "Only what you told everyone when we first arrived here. You talked about him almost like he was a part of you. But, that’s it."

I nodded slowly, his answer didn’t surprise me. I hadn't really spoken of Meridin in a long time. Aldin wasn’t with me back when Meridin was the cornerstone of my life, back when I was still on Earth, playing tabletop games with my few friends and getting lost with them in those tales of fantasy and danger. Aldin knew him from within those stories, before he was unmade alongside Meridin by the Singularity.

Meridin was my creation, my first player character in Pathfinder. I remembered every detail of his adventures, every spell, every close call, those few deaths he endured, and everyone he lost along the way.

But those were memories of a game. Nothing more.

Except… were they?

Ever since I arrived on Equis and found myself in this new body — Meridin’s body — those memories felt more real. Like they weren’t just something we rolled dice for, but actual experiences Meridin must have had lived. It was strange, almost unsettling sometimes. As if I wasn’t just playing him, but had always been him.

Aldin, though, didn’t know any of that. He didn’t remember Meridin the way I did. Hell, he doesn’t remember him at all. The life I thought I knew about Meridin was all based on the game we had played. But now? Now it felt like there was more to it all, something deeper, something I couldn’t quite place.

I let out a breath, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, I suppose Meridin was a big part of my life for a long time. Even before I arrived on Equis."

"Sounds like he still is," Aldin said, his voice softer now. "You talk about him like he’s more than just some character in a game.”

I looked at Aldin, meeting his amber eyes, and felt a flicker of something — recognition, maybe. The feeling was hard to pin down, but Aldin was right. Meridin wasn’t just some character anymore. He was… well, he was me, in a way. And yet, the dream from a few days ago — it was gone, slipped away like mist being burned away underneath the morning sun. All that remained of the dream was a vague sense of loss and sorrow when I thought of it, but nothing I could really put words to. Nothing I could remember.

It was nothing like the nightmares of my early days after my arrival to Equis. Those dreams of slaughter and vrock, were repetitive and I remembered them even now.

I couldn’t remember a shred of this new dream, and it didn’t even have the decency to repeat. Although, I suppose, that was most likely a good thing.

I shook my head. "I guess he is," I murmured. "But still, it’s weird. I know everything about him from our games, but it feels like there’s more to it. Like, I know of him, but… maybe I don’t know him nearly as well as I think I do." I frowned, the feeling too abstract to properly explain.

Aldin tilted his head again, watching me closely. "Maybe it's better not to dwell on it too much, Seb. You’ve got enough to focus on here." He glanced at the quill. "Like not passing out from trying to move tiny feathers.”

I laughed lightly at that, grateful for the distraction. And Aldin had a point. As much as I wanted to dig deeper into the strange connection between Meridin and I, there were more immediate things I needed to focus on. Unicorn and my arcane magic, for one. Luna, for another.

My life here, in Equis, was what mattered now.

I stretched my arms, feeling the tightness in my muscles beginning to ease. The brief break had given me enough time to recover some energy, and the weariness from earlier was fading. Slowly, I stood up, rolling my shoulders and flexing my fingers.

"Alright," I said, feeling that spark of determination light up again. "Time for round two."

Aldin let out a soft hoot, flapping his wings and settling back down comfortably. "Just don’t find a way to blow yourself up."

I grinned at him. "No promises, best-buddy."

With renewed focus, I returned my attention to the quill on the floor. This time, I felt more confident, my mind clearer. I knew I could move it. I had already done it once. Now, it was just a matter of pushing myself a little further each time. I raised my right hand, letting the magic flow through me again, drawing from the world around me.

The hazel aura began to form around my hand, softer than before but far more steady. The gold at the center flickered with a faint green glow, the green growing brighter. I could feel the magic flowing through me again, but this time, it was a little bit easier.

My aura wrapped around the quill, and it trembled within the light. My focus flowed, and with a breath, I visualized it sliding upward.

The quill lifted.

Another inch.

I smiled as I let the aura cease, and the quill floated down to the stone floor.

I had done it again.

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

"Y’know," I drawled, leaning against Luna's throne with a teasing grin, "you could make this easier on me. Maybe wear something a little more distracting. Or, you know, nothing at all."

Luna’s eyes flicked to me, a playful glint reflecting off the moonlight streaming through the throneroom’s high windows. The blue of her coat shimmered subtly as she shifted atop her throne, the edges of her usual regalia catching the light just right. She arched a brow, a smirk gracing her lips.

"And what would my court think if I sat upon my throne without a stitch of decorum?" she replied, her tone full of mock seriousness. "What kind of Princess would I be, letting my apprentice ogle me in such a state?"

"An excellent one," I said smoothly, crossing my arms and leaning further into the throne’s side. "You’d be keeping things interesting at least. Night Court’s dead as usual, and I need something to keep me entertained."

Her smirk deepened. "Surely you can entertain yourself in other ways, my love."

I shrugged, though I couldn’t hope to suppress my grin. "Well, there is something I could think of. But last time we tried it, I could barely move the next day. And let’s just say I don’t think your throne is the best place for it."

Her expression softened a fraction, the intensity of the memory we shared washing over us both. The night of the Grand Galloping Gala. The sparring match that led to us going at it, in more ways than one. The fire, the passion, the closeness. My heart still pounded thinking about it, and I could tell by the way her gaze matched mine that the same memories were also fresh in her mind.

Luna cleared her throat softly, her regal composure returning as she shifted in place atop her throne, one wing flicking ever so slightly at her side. "Indeed, not the best place for such... pursuits." She chuckled, the sound low and melodic. "I fear we would end up distracting ourselves far too much, should we entertain that idea during my court."

"I don't know," I teased, "a bit of excitement wouldn’t hurt. Besides, not like anyone's here anyway."

"As I have said before, it is not the presence of petitioners that requires my attention, but the potential for them to arrive," she said, though her voice held no real chastisement. "A Princess must be prepared, even in the stillness of the night."

I always respected Luna’s dedication to her duties, even if I didn’t show it as much as I should. There was a strength to her, a vigilance that had impressed me from the very moment we met. Though, to be fair, I was pretty sure she was going to skin me alive back then. She managed Night Court with the same care her sister gave to Day Court, even on quiet nights like this.

It was simply part of who she was.

But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me want to push her buttons just a little more.

I shifted from the side of the throne and took a position beside her, my hand resting lightly upon the Promise’s pommel at my hip. I gave her a sidelong look, taking in the elegant curves of her form, the way her wings rested against her sides. Even when she was fully in her role as Princess of the Night, Luna had a certain allure that never failed to draw me in.

Maybe the allure had always been there, and I had simply been blind to it?

"Fine," I said, pretending to relent. "I’ll behave. But it’s not my fault that you’re so... distracting."

Her wing twitched again, and her eyes briefly darted toward me, the corners of her mouth threatening to lift. "Then perhaps it is not I who should change, but you who should focus, my dear apprentice."

"Maybe." I let out a small, exaggerated sigh, and ran my hand through my hair. "But it’s hard to focus when all I can think about is... well, you."

Luna tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with that teasing look of hers. "And yet, you do so well hiding it when needed."

A soft chime echoed in my mind, faint but clear — the signal from the Alarm spell I’d set at the door. I glanced at the entrance, but it remained undisturbed. Just the rare passing guard then.

Night Court remained quiet as usual.

I turned my gaze back to Luna, watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, her wings tucked neatly but clearly brimming with energy. Something about the way her wings moved had caught my attention this night, especially after I’d watched Aldin preen himself a few days ago.

There was something almost hypnotic about it, the way his small feathers shifted under his beak as he cared for them. It stirred an idea within me — one that took root and refused to be forgotten. Each time my eyes drifted toward Luna’s wings, that idea grew louder, a thought I hadn’t yet shared but found increasingly impossible to ignore.

Luna's wings, unlike Aldin's, were massive and beautiful. Every time I saw them stretch, the feathers ruffling slightly, I felt a sort of pull toward them, a desire to care for them — to care for her. I knew next to nothing about preening, but it seemed like an act of intimacy. And with everything we’d shared… I was curious.

I found my gaze gravitating towards her wings again. They were mesmerizing, really.

Maybe I could ask her tonight. Perhaps, I should. Couldn’t hurt.

"Luna..." I began softly, my eyes still on her wings. "There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you."

She tilted her head slightly, sensing the change in my tone. "Yes?"

I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing, but I felt that same determination rise within me that I get when I face a challenge.

Now or never.

I took a steadying breath before asking, “Would you be willing to teach me how to preen your wings?”

For a moment, Luna didn’t respond. Her eyes widened subtly, just enough for me to question whether I had misstepped. I could feel my heart rate pick up as doubts crept into my mind. Had I crossed a line? Was this a personal or cultural act that I’d unknowingly trivialized?

My mind raced to find an apology, a way to take it all back. But then, almost imperceptibly, her wings shifted — a tiny, almost involuntary flutter — and it eased the tightness in my chest. Her gaze softened, and she gave a small, intimate smile that made my doubts begin to evaporate.

"You wish to learn?” she repeated, her voice contemplative, as if turning the request over slowly in her mind. “To preen my wings?"

I nodded, my words stumbling out awkwardly. "Yeah... I’ve seen Aldin doing it, and I know it’s something important to you. I noticed you stretching them more tonight, and I thought maybe I could help. If... if you want me to, that is.”

For a moment, silence stretched between us, and I could feel the beginnings of sweat on the back of my neck. Luna’s eyes flicked down to her wings, her expression shifting into something I couldn’t quite place. She was considering it. But there was something deeper there, something that I wasn’t privy to yet.

Then, to my surprise, she let out a quiet, almost tender laugh. "You are rather bold with your requests, my dear apprentice.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to hide my embarrassment. "I, uh, didn’t mean to make it awkward. I just—"

A soft, feathery touch against my arm interrupted my stumbling explanations. Her wing brushed against me lightly, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a gentle murmur. "It isn’t weird, Sebastian. Far from it.” Her eyes met mine, warm and unwavering, a look that held me in place. “I find your curiosity... endearing. I would not object to your assistance. But perhaps, not here.”

Luna glanced around the throne room. The emptiness of Night Court enveloped us, only the faint occasional noise of the castle at night to bring any sound to the otherwise silent ambiance. I glanced at the throne room door, the Alarm spell I’d cast earlier lay in place, so far only a passing guard has triggered it.

“After court,” Luna continued, her voice velvet soft in the quiet of the room. "In the privacy of my bedchambers. It would be... more fitting there."

My pulse quickened at the thought. The idea of being with her in her chambers again, doing something that now felt so personal — even if I didn’t fully understand the full depth of it yet — had my heart racing away.

"Alright," I said, somehow keeping my voice steady despite the rush of excitement rattling away in my veins."After Night Court, then."

Luna’s eyes lingered on me for a moment longer before she settled back into her throne fully, resuming her regal posturing. Her wings tucked themselves back neatly against her sides, but I noticed the way her gaze would occasionally flicker towards me, as though she was thinking about what came next as much as I was.

The minutes passed slowly. With no petitioners to tend to, the night dragged on in quiet conversations filled with small-talk and bouts of amiable silence. Each moment stretched more than it should, and I found myself growing impatient, my eyes occasionally drifting back to her wings again. Luna caught my glances a few times, smirking slightly but offering nothing. She was content to let my anticipation build.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Luna let out a sigh, her eyes drifting toward the windows. She gazed at the sky, the moon and stars reflected in her eyes as if she could read the heavens like a clock. "It seems no one will be coming tonight."

I straightened, pushing away from my spot against the throne, a flicker of renewed energy sparking through my limbs. "So... Court’s done?"

With deliberate grace, Luna rose from her seat, her wings unfurling in a languid stretch. As she stepped down from the throne, her eyes met mine, and the formality of the throne room dissolved, replaced by something far more intimate.

"Come," she said, her voice carrying a rich warmth. "It is time we retire."

I didn’t need to be told twice.

Falling in step behind her, the familiar weight of Promise swaying at my side as we made our way through the dimly lit corridors. Moonlight spilled through the high windows, casting silver beams across the stone floor. Shadows danced in rhythm with our steps, as if the castle itself had come alive to witness our passage. Luna walked ahead, her wings tucked gracefully at her sides, her every step fluid and silent, the princess of the night in her element.

As we climbed the steps of her spire and neared her bedchambers, high above the castle proper, my thoughts ran wild. Not just with the thought of what I was about to learn, but with how close we had become. From the tender confessions of love to the wild intimacy we had shared after that sparring match... and now this.

Luna stopped at her chamber door, her magic gently opening it before she stepped inside. I followed her in, the familiar warmth of her room surrounding me as the doors closed softly behind us.

Luna's chambers were becoming a second home, each visit imbuing the space with a sense of familiarity. The silver moonlight cascaded through the tall windows, painting the walls in soft light. The fireplace was dark tonight, its warmth replaced by the crisp coolness of the night air, mixing with the calming scent of lavender — Luna’s scent.

I stood at the entrance, watching her move with practiced grace to the center of the room. In the dim light, she glowed faintly, her dark coat shimmering, a living contrast of shadow and moonlight.

She turned, her gaze meeting mine with a smile that danced between warmth and mischief, inviting without a word. Her eyes flicked toward the bed, and though she said nothing, the invitation was clear, sparking a quickening in my chest.

"You seem a little tense, my dear apprentice," Luna teased, her voice a playful lilt that made my pulse quicken further. "There’s no need to be so nervous."

I stifled a laugh, trying to appear unbothered as I stepped forward. "Nervous? Me? No, of course not." I replied, though the slight tremor in my voice betrayed the truth. "But if I were, it’d only be because of you."

With effortless grace, Luna climbed onto the bed, her wings fluttering softly. Her regalia floated off in her magic, setting itself aside as she embraced the room’s low light in her full, natural beauty. Her wings, half-spread, left an inviting space beside her.

I paused at the edge of the bed, feeling that awkward hesitation of not knowing how to begin. Luna tilted her head, her eyes soft and affectionate. She patted the spot next to her with a hoof. "Come closer, Sebastian. Let me guide you."

Swallowing my nerves, I climbed in beside her, my gaze instinctively drawn to her wings. They were magnificent — strong, powerful, yet with a fragile beauty to them. I had touched them before in intimate moments we shared, but this felt different. More significant, somehow.

More special.

"Preening is a task of delicacy," Luna began, her tone shifting but still carrying the familiar softness that usually tinged our private conversations. "It requires patience, care... and most importantly, trust." She extended her wing toward me, feathers unfurling slightly in front of my hands. "Start by inspecting the feathers. Gently. Look for any that are out of place or damaged."

I nodded, absorbing her guidance as best I could. Truthfully, I doubted myself, but her presence instilled within me confidence. Slowly, I reached out with my right hand, fingertips grazing the silken down of her wing. The sensation was... unlike anything I’d ever felt. It was like touching a cloud, light and airy, with a subtle strength woven through each feather.

"That’s it," Luna murmured, her half-lidded gaze steady on my movements. "Now, smooth them gently with your fingers, realign them. Soft, but firm."

Taking a calming breath, I focused. My fingers traced the contour of her wing, aligning each feather with a tenderness I'd reserved for only the most precious things. Time seemed to blur around us, each stroke pulling me further into the rhythm of the task. Every feather was distinct beneath my touch, and I moved with newfound care, ensuring I lived up to her trust.

Luna's breathing slowed, her entire body relaxing beneath my touch. The quiet between us grew more profound — a shared moment that words would only serve to complicate. When I glanced at her, I noticed her eyes had drifted shut, her face taking up a serene expression. Luna was completely at peace. We did not speak; for in that moment, silence and touch spoke volumes more than any spoken words could hope to convey.

"You’re doing wonderfully," her voice hummed softly, threading through the comfortable silence. "Continue."

Her quiet encouragement sent a ripple through me, a gentle wave of warmth. My hands responded almost instinctively, moving with a sureness that hadn’t been there moments ago. As I continued, I noticed a few feathers misaligned, just slightly out of place. Recalling her earlier guidance, I delicately smoothed them into place. Each adjustment caused a subtle twitch from her wing, a reflex that felt intimate and personal.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know, I never imagined myself here, preening a princess’s wings.”

Luna’s eyes opened slowly, her expression soft and filled with amusement. “I wouldn’t allow just anypony, my love. You are… irreplaceable.”

Her words wrapped around my heart warmer than any possible embrace, and love settled between us. I returned to my task, hands more attuned now to the rhythm of her breathing, the quiet strength in her wings. The soft texture of each feather, the way they shimmered in the moonlight, mesmerized me. This closeness felt different — an unspoken bond forming with every tender stroke of my fingers.

Time seemed to slow as I worked further along her wing. The soft light of the moon bathed us in a tranquil glow, the world around fading until it was just the two of us. The quiet intimacy of it all enveloped me, leaving me aware of every soft breath she took, every subtle flutter of her wings under my touch.

After a while, Luna shifted, the other wing unfolding with elegant ease. “You may tend to the other, if you wish.”

I met her gaze, my heart swelling as her unspoken trust resonated through me. Without a word, I began the same delicate process with her other wing, but now my hands moved with more certainty. Each movement felt more natural than the last, like I was learning the secret language of her wings with each loving touch. Luna remained still, her breathing slow and content as she relaxed further beside me.

The minutes drifted by in quiet harmony, filled by the gentle rustling of feathers and the soft sound of her breathing. It was as if the world had paused, leaving only this shared space where our love deepened.

When I finished, I leaned back to admire my work. Her wings, now perfectly aligned, seemed to glow in the moonlight. Luna stretched them wide with a satisfied sigh, flexing them once, twice, before folding them neatly at her sides.

“You’ve done wonderfully, Sebastian,” she said, turning to face me with the same affection that constituted her voice earlier. “Thank you.”

A smile found its way to my face, a strong sense of contentment settling deep within me. “Anytime, Luna.”