The Conjuration Wizard

The throne room was a different place now. The once-empty space, which I’d grown used to during those long, quiet nights at Luna’s side, was filled with murmurs of conversation and the soft shuffle of hooves. The sound was nearly deafening in comparison to the silence of Night Court’s past. Ever since Discord's brief reign, Night Court had seen an influx of petitioners — ponies of all classes, seeking guidance, comfort, or answers from Luna. The chaos had shaken their faith in the Day Court, and while things were settling, uncertainty lingered like a shadow over Equestria.

Luna was in her element, though. I could see it in the way her eyes lit up with every new petitioner that stepped forward, the pride she felt in being able to help. She’d always longed for this, to be seen as more than just the ruler of the night, to be valued by her subjects. Now, it seemed, they finally understood what she could offer. It was a slow process, but the number of ponies coming to her had steadily grown since Discord’s return to statue-status.

I’m just glad Aldin and Luna pulled me out of my room. The guilt still lingered, but I would be remiss if I missed out on Night Court’s growth due to my own shortcomings.

I stood off to the side, leaning against one of the stone pillars that lined the throne room, Aldin perched on my shoulder, his feathers slightly ruffled from boredom. He’d been complaining in our shared language for most of the evening.

“Seb, I’m going to fall asleep on your shoulder if this keeps up,” Aldin muttered in a low voice only I could understand. His beak clacked softly, a sign of his growing impatience. “Can’t you entertain me somehow? Maybe cause a little trouble?”

“Not now, best-buddy,” I whispered back, keeping my voice low so as not to interrupt the current petitioner. “You know I can’t distract her while she’s working.”

Aldin let out a long, overly dramatic sigh, flapping his wings briefly before settling back down. “You could at least make it a little more fun. You used to cast illusions to keep her entertained during this boring court stuff. You should do that again! Or, at least try that poor excuse for flirting.”

“Hey! My flirting is not that bad!” I said, glancing toward the throne where Luna sat. She was deep in conversation with a mare who seemed to be asking for advice on how to protect her crops in case of future magical disturbances. Luna’s wisdom shone through with every word, and I couldn’t help but admire the way she handled each petitioner with care. “Besides, things are different now.”

“Different, sure,” Aldin grumbled. “But you’re still you. Maybe she misses the flirting.”

I huffed out a quiet breath, more amused than anything. "I think she's got more important things to focus on right now than my ‘poor’ flirting. Besides, I’m still here, supporting her."

The truth was, I did miss those quiet nights when it was just the two of us in the then empty throne room. I missed being able to lean in close, to whisper something teasing or affectionate, and to see her smile in response. But things had changed. Ponies were coming to her now, and I didn’t want to be the one to distract her from her duties. She needed this — she deserved it.

Still, Aldin wasn’t wrong. A part of me yearned for those simpler nights when everything wasn’t overshadowed by guilt, duty, and the damage that had been done. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all my fault. Discord breaking free, the shattering of the Elements… it all traced back to the nothingness that had invaded our dreams seeking me out. I should have done more, been better prepared.

The guilt persisted, even now.

Luna glanced over at me, her eyes softening for a moment as they met mine. She could read me like a book, and I knew she could see the guilt still hanging on my shoulders. But she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she turned back to the mare and continued speaking, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Aldin shifted on my shoulder again, clearly still restless. “This is agony! How long is this going to last?”

“Patience, best-buddy,” I muttered, although I understood his frustration. The court had been going on for hours, and the steady stream of ponies didn’t show signs of slowing. I glanced toward the doors, where more petitioners awaited their turn, shifting anxiously as they eyed the clock on the far wall.

Eventually, the mare thanked Luna and stepped away, bowing low as she left the throne room. Another petitioner quickly took her place, a stallion in a nicely tailored suit who had concerns about security in the city. I tuned out most of the conversation, not because I didn’t care, but because Luna had everything under control. She didn’t need me to step in.

Aldin, on the other hand, was reaching the end of his patience. “If this next one doesn’t do something interesting, I swear I’m going to start napping.”

“Then nap,” I said, rolling my eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He grumbled something incoherent but eventually settled, his talons loosening their grip on my shoulder as he started to doze off. I felt a faint trickle of contentment through our link as he drifted into sleep, leaving me to focus on the court once more.

Eventually, the last petitioner approached Luna, and began to state their business, her shoulders seemed to relax a little. The night was winding down, and most of the ponies had been tended to. She looked over at me again, her expression soft but tired. I gave her a small nod, knowing she’d done well tonight. She always did.

Luna’s expression softened briefly, her tired eyes meeting mine. Though fatigue lingered in her gaze, there was something else — satisfaction. Despite the long hours, she was content. This was what she had longed for: her court finally had petitioners. I could see it in the way she carried herself, the quiet pride in how she listened to each petitioner with such attentiveness. The night was hers once more, and I couldn’t be more proud of her.

Still, a greedy part of me longed for just one more moment alone with her, away from the burdens of court and crown. A quiet night where it was just us — no titles, no duties, no weight of Equestria on her shoulders.

But that would have to wait.

The petitioner offered their thanks and departed. I exhaled softly; Night Court was finally drawing to a close. It had been long, longer than any session I had attended, and I could tell Luna was ready to call it as well. She shifted slightly on her throne, preparing to stand.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement.

A lone figure, cloaked and silent, emerged from the shadows at the back of the throne room. I hadn’t seen them before — perhaps they had been waiting for the others to leave.

The figure moved with unnerving silence, each armored hoofstep echoing faintly in the vast, now-empty chamber. There was a shift in the air, a tension that crept through the room as this final petitioner approached. Something about them was different. My body tensed, and I narrowed my eyes, watching their deliberate advance toward the throne.

Their movements were careful, precise. The cloak concealed most of their form, but as they drew closer, faint flashes of silver caught the light from beneath the fabric — armor, aged and eerily familiar. My heart raced. Silver armor, forged in a style long forgotten, one I had only ever read about in ancient texts from the castle library.

The ancient armor of the Lunar Guard.

Luna remained still on her throne, but the moment the figure stepped fully into her view, her body went rigid. I glanced at her, noticing the shift in her posture. The weariness that had softened her features was long gone, replaced by something far more unsettling — tension, maybe even a trace of fear.

The petitioner reached the center of the hall and halted. With a slow, almost ritualistic motion, she lifted her head, and the hood slipped back, revealing her face. A thestral mare, her coat the color of storm-touched skies, with slit-pupiled eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Her mane, dark and sleek, framed her sharp features, lending her an air of stoic determination. Her leathery wings remained concealed beneath the cloak, but there was no mistaking her nature.

A bat pony — a thestral.

It had been centuries since a thestral had been seen in public, their kind long since vanished into myth, entwined with Luna’s darkest chapter of life. Yet here, at the closing of Night Court, one now stood before us, clad in armor from a forgotten age.

"Princess Luna," the mare began, her voice steady but laden with meaning. "I come as the chosen representative of the thestrals of Hollow Shades."

Luna's eyes widened. The shift in the room was palpable. Her wings pressed tightly against her sides, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure she would speak. The thestrals were a topic she had always avoided, even with me. Their existence was bound to her most painful memories — a war that most had allowed to fade into history, but I knew it was still fresh in her mind. They were the ones who had followed her, sworn allegiance to the moon and to her, even as she fell into madness.

The mare’s gaze remained fixed, unwavering. “For many years, long before your return, we have debated. Some feared you were still the Nightmare, that your return would only bring ruin.” She paused, emotion flickering briefly in her eyes before her stoic mask reasserted itself. “But others believed in your redemption, in the return of our true Princess. And now, with the Elements of Harmony broken, we have chosen to return.”

Luna said nothing, but there was a storm of emotions behind her eyes. It was as if the weight of her past had suddenly descended, heavier than ever. Though she rarely spoke of it, I knew the depth of her guilt — the lives lost in the war, those who had pledged loyalty to her and had been left behind when she was banished.

The mare stepped forward, revealing more of the ancient Lunar Guard armor from beneath her cloak. "My name is Captain Noctra. On behalf of Hollow Shades and our kin, I ask that we be allowed to return to our rightful place. To serve you once again, as we did before."

Her words hung in the air, a plea forged with centuries of history — loyalty, betrayal, and the hope of reconciliation.

Luna lowered her gaze, her expression unreadable. I could only guess at the turmoil she was experiencing. This was the moment she had avoided, the part of her past she had been running from since her return. Now, that past stood before her, embodied in a mare wearing the armor of a time long gone — a living reminder of everything she had lost, and of the role she had played in it.

I stood silently nearby, my hands clasped behind my back, close enough to offer her support, but far enough to give her the space she needed. This was her court, her past, her ponies. Although I kept my distance, I hoped she could sense my resolve — she didn’t have to face this alone.

Luna’s eyes shimmered, though her expression remained composed. The heavy weight of her guilt hung between them, unspoken but there all the same. This decision could not be taken lightly. To welcome the thestrals back into the service of the crown would mean confronting her darkest memories — the violence, the madness, the countless lives destroyed by her fall. Yet it was also a chance for her to begin mending the wounds of the past, to rebuild the trust and loyalty that had been lost so long ago.

The irony wasn’t lost to me. I had been the one who caused the breaking of the Elements, and now, perhaps, I was inadvertently helping to spark the start of this restoration.

Fate has a sense of humor it seems.

A deep stillness enveloped the hall as Luna closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath. When she opened them again, her voice was softer. “If I accept you, if I accept your kin… it will not be as the Princess of old. It will not be as the Nightmare. I am not that creature anymore.”

Noctra dipped her head slightly. “We know, Princess. That’s why we ask to serve you — not as we did at the end, but under your true name. Under the moon, and under the Luna we see before us.”

Luna’s posture relaxed, the tension slowly easing from her. For a long, silent moment, she studied Noctra’s eyes, searching for the truth in her words. Finally, she spoke.

“Then… I accept. You and your kin may return to serve me if that is truly your wish. But know this: it will be under a moon of peace, not the shadow of war. That is my one condition.”

Noctra bowed deeply, her wings spreading slightly as she lowered her head in respect. “We are at your command, Princess Luna. We will serve you as we once did — loyal, to the end.”

Luna gave a small nod, though behind her calm façade I could see the storm of emotions swirling — relief, sorrow, and perhaps a glimmer of hope. This was not a simple victory for her, but it was a step toward healing. Toward making peace with the pieces of her past she had feared to face.

As Noctra turned to leave, Luna’s gaze shifted to me, softening as our eyes met. I offered a quiet smile and nod, my chest swelling with pride. She had faced her past tonight and chosen to move forward. I knew this wasn’t the end of her struggle — far from it — but it was the beginning of something new.

Discord had been right. A new age was coming.