The Conjuration Wizard

The cold of the dungeon seeped into my bones, sharper than the early winter air outside. A Light cantrip I had placed earlier served as the sole source of illumination that shone the unmoving forms of Chrysalis' petrified swarm. Hundreds of them, frozen in their last moments of battle, were tucked away down here in the depths of the castle’s dungeon. Their blank stone eyes seemed to follow me as I moved, but I forced myself to ignore them. They were as lifeless as the rock that encased them.

For now.

I stood before the platform I had just finished shaping — a crude square of stone, twenty feet by twenty feet, rising a few feet from the floor at the center of the dungeon. It wasn’t elegant, and it didn’t need to be. The edges were rough, the surface uneven in places, but it was solid and functional. That was more than enough. With the Stone Shape spell spent, I stepped back, brushing dust from my shirt with my left hand, the action was awkward and slow. The stump of my right arm throbbed in phantom protest, as though it wished to join my remaining hand in the action.

I ignored it. There was simply too much to do, and I had spent far too much time wallowing in my own self-pity these past few weeks.

Taking a deep breath, I knelt by the platform, placing my hand flat against its surface. The stone was cold and unyielding, but I could feel my magic beginning to stir as I focused. Break Enchantment. A spell of liberation and restoration, one I’d fortunately not had to use as of yet. But this was different. This wasn’t about freeing innocents. These were changelings — insects I could barely look at without a wave of nausea and anger rising within me in equal measure.

One step closer to solidifying the Geas against that damnable queen. I repeated the thought in my head like a mantra. This wasn’t for the changelings or their queen. It was for the Geas. For Luna. For Equestria.

I weaved the fundamentals of the spell into the platform in steady pulses of the arcane. The stone began to hum faintly, and glowing lines of magic traced across its surface like veins of jade. Each line shimmered and flickered, the spell’s energy binding itself to the platform was a painstaking process. I worked carefully, weaving the basis of abjuration into the stone itself, imbuing it with the mythic power necessary to ensure it could break their petrification without fail. The user would require mythical power to use the platform at all. This would limit the users to myself. That was by design.

I would be remiss if someone were to use the platform to try to free Discord from his petrification. Albeit whether or not the Platform of Disenchantment would work on someone petrified by the Elements of Harmony is dubious at best. Nevertheless, it would be better for all that I ensure that the platform’s accessibility be limited. At least while we lacked any sort of viable weapon against the spirit of chaos.

I pressed my hand harder against the stone, channeling more power into it. A swell of power surged from the well of mythical power that encircled my heart, and coalesced behind my eye. The platform glowed brighter, the intricate spellwork etching itself into its surface like a living map. Sweat dampened my brow as I worked. Each stroke of arcane magic was empowered with the mythical to carve channels through the stone, guiding the spell’s energy where it needed to flow.

The process was precise and delicate in nature — one mistake, and I’d have to start the whole process over. Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I didn’t want to be down here surrounded by these… things longer than I needed to.

I closed my eye and focused my attention on my spellcraft. The platform’s glow intensified, filling the dim dungeon with a pale green light that I could see even through my closed eyelid. I clenched my jaw and steadied myself as I poured the last threads of arcane energies into the platform. The light steadied, the hum deepened, and then—

It was done.

The platform thrummed faintly with residual power, the Break Enchantment spell now woven into its very structure. The glow dimmed but didn’t vanish entirely, leaving the faintest trace of green light pulsating from the rough stone.

It was ready.

My breath left me in a ragged sigh, the weight of the now completed task pressing harder than the oppressive stone walls of the dungeon that surrounded me. The dungeon seemed to grow heavier with every heartbeat, its air thick with unspoken hostility. Around me stood hundreds of petrified changelings, their silent, frozen forms casting jagged shadows in the dim light. They were statues of aggression, each locked in a moment of violence, none stood out more than the one closest to the platform — a figure frozen in a cowering position, head bowed, ready to flee.

I hated them. Every single one of them.

I told myself I shouldn’t. I knew so little about changelings — nothing of their culture, their history, their ideals, their struggles. But what I did know was etched into my body and soul in equal measure. They invaded my home with violence in their hearts, seeking to overthrow Luna and Celestia. One, disguised as Luna, led me to an ambush that left me with half my sight stolen and left the right side of my face scarred. Their wretched queen murdered my best-buddy, severed my right arm, and drove the blade that symbolizes my love straight through my heart in a killing stroke.

How could I not hate?

My fingers tightened into a fist, the edges of memory biting sharply as I reminded myself of the Geas. This wasn’t about vengeance. This wasn’t for them. This was for her. For Luna. For us. For our future.

I unclenched my fist, and let out a calming breath.

The sound of hoofsteps broke the silence, faint at first, then louder as they echoed through the dungeon’s stone corridors. Two sets, armored, steady, deliberate. One set was far louder than the other.

As the hoofsteps drew closer, I straightened, my left hand instinctively wrapped around the hilt of Promise at my side. Luna’s mark shone dull in the dim light, a quiet reassurance against all that surrounded me.

The first figure to emerge from the corridor's gloom was Noctra, her amber eyes gleaming faintly in the lowlight. Her storm-grey coat blended with the dungeon's shadows, but her silver-edged armor caught the light with each step. Her gaze swept over the room, sharp and assessing, sweeping quickly over the stone changelings before lingering briefly on the platform and finally locking onto me.

"Sebastian," she said, her voice clipped but not unkind. "We thought you'd be here."

The second set of hoofsteps belonged to Shining Armor. His broader frame and more imposing presence were unmistakable, even as the soft glow of his magic illuminated the space around him. His usual confidence seemed muted, though; his movements were measured and deliberate, as though he were holding himself together through sheer force of will. His eyes were shadowed by exhaustion as he looked over the petrified changelings that lined the walls before settling on me.

“Seb,” he greeted, his tone carrying a weight that wasn’t there the last time we’d spoken. “How’s the project coming along?”

I gestured toward the platform, its rough-hewn surface still glowing faintly with the residuals of my magic. “Good,” I said, my voice low. “It should be able to work now.”

Noctra’s gaze shifted between us, her sharp eyes catching the tension that hung in the air. “Good,” she said curtly, stepping closer to inspect the platform. “The last thing we need is something going wrong down here. Not with... them.” She nodded toward the rows of petrified changelings, her expression hardening.

Shining followed her gaze, his jaw tightening. He let out a slow breath, the weight of his memories pressing down on him as surely as they did on me. His eyes lingered on the one closest to the platform.

“They don’t look so dangerous now,” he muttered, his voice low, almost to himself.

I scoffed, the sound harsher than I intended. “They didn’t look dangerous then, either. Not when they were wearing her face.”

The words hung between us, the weight of shared pain and betrayal filling the silence. Shining’s gaze snapped to mine, and for a moment we simply looked at each other, two individuals bound by the scars of Chrysalis’s cruelty.

“She... she didn’t just feed off me,” Shining said finally, his voice unsteady but determined. “She twisted everything. Every memory of Cadance, every moment we shared. She made me doubt all of it, made me wonder if any of it was real. And when I was too drained to fight back—” He stopped, his throat working as he fought to keep his composure. “She took everything.”

I nodded, the familiar ache clawing at my chest. “I know,” I said softly. “She didn’t just take my love for Luna; she mocked it. Used it against me. And when she was done, she made sure I could never forget. But then again… she didn’t plan on me living.”

I could feel his eyes on the scars that marred my face, then down to the empty space where my right arm used to be. His expression tightened, guilt flashing across his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For all of it.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Shining,” I replied, my voice firmer than I felt. “You didn’t do anything to me. If anything, I should be thanking you. You survived. I don’t think I could've stomached losing another friend.”

Noctra cleared her throat, her sharp gaze cutting through the heaviness between us. “And we’ll make sure she never has the chance to do it again,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “That’s why we’re here. To make sure everything goes as planned.”

Shining nodded, his expression hardening. “She doesn’t get to win,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “Not after everything she’s done.”

He fell silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. Then, almost hesitantly, he looked up at me, his expression shifting to something uncertain. “Seb... I’ve been thinking about something. About Cadance.”

I arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“She wants to move forward. To get past what happened. And... I do too. But a part of me wonders if I’m ready. If I can still be the stallion she deserves.”

“You love her,” I said simply. “That’s enough.”

Shining’s lips quirked into a faint smile, the first genuine one I’d seen from him since he walked in. “She said the exact same thing. That’s why... that’s why we’re going to try again. To plan the wedding. For real this time.”

My heart twisted, both with happiness for him and the bitter memory of what Chrysalis had stolen from us both. “Good,” I said, forcing a smile of my own. “Don’t let her take that from you.”

Shining hesitated, his gaze searching mine. “Will you be there?” he asked. “I... I want you to be my best man again.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. My left hand instinctively moved to my scars, tracing the vertical line across my cheek. “I don’t—” I started, my voice faltering.

Shining stepped closer, his expression earnest. “Please, Seb,” he said. “I need you there. Cadance does, too. We wouldn’t be here without you. No one would.”

I looked at Shining, his blue eyes pleading, and felt the sincerity of his words wash over me. They wouldn’t be here without me. Celestia had told me something similar not too long ago. I knew what Shining and Celestia said to be true, but even then a bitter thought curled at the back of my mind. A thought that whispered of the scars carved by my failures and Chrysalis’s cruelty. I turned my gaze away, focusing on the cold, uneven stone of the platform.

“Shining,” I said quietly, “look at me. I’m not what I was.” My hand lingered on the line of my cheek, then moved to the empty space where my right arm used to be. “Your wedding is supposed to be a celebration.”

“It is a celebration,” Shining said, his voice firm. “And you’re a part of what we’re celebrating. What you did — what you sacrificed — that’s not some reminder of something ugly, Seb. It’s proof of what you mean to all of us.”

I closed my eye, breathing out a slow sigh. His words were sincere, but I couldn’t stop the knot in my chest from tightening.

“Sebastian,” Noctra’s voice broke in, low and serious. “This isn’t about how you see yourself. It’s about what you’ve done. You may not think you belong there, but trust me, you do. It’s an honor, and one you’ve more than earned a hundred times over.”

I looked between them — Shining’s determined expression, Noctra’s unflinching certainty — and felt the faintest hint of warmth behind my ribcage. These two... they weren’t going to let me refuse.

Shining stepped closer again, resting a hoof on my shoulder. “Besides, it wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there. You’re my best friend, Seb. You have to be my best man. I don’t care if you think you’re not good enough — I know you are.”

Best friend.

It had been a long time since anyone had said that to me, and never with so much conviction. I hesitated, swallowing against the lump forming in my throat. Finally, I nodded, though it was a small, reluctant thing. “Fine,” I said softly. “But don’t expect a toast or a speech. I don’t do speeches.”

Shining grinned, and for a moment, it was easy to forget about where we were, and what we were surrounded by. “Deal.”

Noctra, however, wasn’t smiling. Her sharp amber eyes were fixed on me, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. “Speaking of responsibility,” she said, her voice cutting through the moment, “there’s another matter to address.”

I frowned, wary of where this was going. “What matter?”

“You and the Lady of the Moon,” she said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

My brow furrowed. “What about me and Luna?”

Noctra tilted her head, her eyes narrowing just enough to make me feel guilty of a crime that I had no knowledge of. “Don’t play coy, Sebastian. You’re her consort. The two of you have been bonded for months now, and yet... I hear no talk of proper dates, no stories of candlelit dinners, no romantic outings. Why is that?”

Heat flushed my face, and I glanced at Shining, who looked just as surprised as I felt. “That’s not really any of your business,” I managed to eke out.

Noctra snorted. “Nonsense. It’s very much my business. As Captain of the Lunar Guard, it’s my duty to ensure that Her Highness’s consort is fulfilling his role properly — both in and out of the battlefield.”

“That’s not—” I started, but Shining cut me off.

“Wait, are you serious?” Shining asked, looking at me in disbelief. “You and Luna haven’t had a proper date yet? Not even once?”

I misjudged his confusion. He was on her side.

“I’ve been busy,” I said defensively, though the excuse felt weak against their combined assault. “She’s been busy. Between her duties and mine, there hasn’t been much time.”

“No time for a single date? Not even before the attempted invasion?” Noctra asked, her tone incredulous. “Sebastian, do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? You’re her consort. Dates aren’t just something you should do — they’re practically mandatory. No, they are mandatory.”

I groaned, running my hand through my hair. “Look, it’s not that simple. Luna and I... we’ve had moments. Quiet ones. But we haven’t... I don’t know. Formalized it.”

“‘Formalized it,’” Shining echoed, shaking his head. “Seb, come on. You’re practically living a fairy tale here. You can’t just skip the best parts.”

“Not to mention,” Noctra added, her tone laced with disapproval, “you’re setting a terrible example for the rest of us. If the Princess and her consort can’t make time for romance, what hope do the rest of us have?”

“I didn’t realize my love life — or lack thereof — was up for public discussion,” I muttered.

“It is now,” Shining said, grinning despite himself. “And you’re not getting out of this one. Noctra and I will make sure you and Luna get that date. A real one. None of this ‘quiet moments’ nonsense.”

I sighed, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “You two are relentless, you know that?”

Shining’s grin widened. “That’s why you love us,” he said before straightening and adjusting his armor. “Speaking of, I’d better let Luna know what’s going on. She’ll want to send backup for the platform test, and... well, you know how she is when it comes to you.” He gave me a knowing look that I tried not to flinch under.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, waving him off. “Go get some sleep after you’re done. You look like you’re one missed coffee away from passing out.”

Shining laughed, already heading toward the door. “Don’t worry about me, Seb. Worry about what Noctra’s about to unload on you.”

I frowned, turning to Noctra, who stood watching Shining leave with a faint smirk. The moment Shining was out of sight, she turned those sharp eyes of hers onto me. The way she looked at me made my scars itch.

“Right,” she said, her tone all business. “Now that we’re alone, let’s talk strategy.”

“Strategy?” I echoed, crossing my arms. “For what?”

“For courting Princess Luna properly,” Noctra said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t allow this... disgraceful lack of proper romance to continue.”

“Disgraceful?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve been busy, Noctra. You of all ponies should understand that.”

“Duty is no excuse,” she replied, her tone sharp. “Romance is as much a part of your role as sparring or magic. The Princess deserves more than stolen moments, Sebastian.”

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Fine. What do you suggest, Captain?”

Noctra’s smirk returned. “I’m glad you asked. There’s a new restaurant in the lower district run by thestrals. Their specialty is traditional fare — dishes that Princess Luna would have enjoyed a thousand years ago. Authentic, nostalgic, and perfect for a quiet, private evening.”

“That... actually doesn’t sound terrible,” I admitted. “But Luna doesn’t like public attention. If word got out—”

“It won’t,” Noctra interrupted. The owners are old friends of mine. I can secure you a private room, no interruptions, no distractions. Just you and the Princess.”

I blinked at her, caught off guard by the sheer practicality of the suggestion. “You’re serious about this.”

“Of course I am,” she said, her expression softening slightly. “Luna deserves happiness, and you... you’ve made her happy. But that doesn’t mean you get to slack off.”

“I wasn’t slacking,” I muttered, though under Noctra’s scrutiny my words felt weak. “Alright, fine. I’ll take her there. Anything else I should know?”

“Plenty,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “First, remember that courting is as much about atmosphere as it is about action. That means no distractions. No interruptions. If somepony tries to bother you during this dinner, you have every right to throw them out. Politely, of course.”

“Of course,” I said dryly.

“Second,” she continued, “brush up on your thestral customs. You’re courting a Princess, but you’re also courting a thestral at heart. Small gestures go a long way — like serving her first or letting her choose the dishes.”

I tilted my head, intrigued despite myself. “Anything else?”

“Finally,” she said, stepping closer and fixing me with a piercing look, “don’t hold back. If you feel something, say it. If you want to show her affection, do it. This isn’t Night Court. It’s not a sparring match. It’s just the two of you. Be yourself, Sebastian. That’s all she wants.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’ve really thought this through.”

“Someone has to,” she said, her tone light but her gaze serious. “Luna deserves the best, and if you’re going to remain as her consort, you’d better step up.”

Before I could respond, the sound of hooves echoed down the hall. Noctra straightened, her sharp eyes snapping toward the noise. A moment later, Luna entered the edge of the light, flanked by two Lunar Guards. Her mane flowed like the night sky, her presence as commanding as ever.

“Sebastian,” she said, her gaze softening as it met mine. “Shining Armor tells me you are ready to begin.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of warmth at the sight of her. “Yeah. Everything’s set up.”

“Good,” she said, stepping closer. “Then let us begin.”

The cold of the dungeon clung to me as I approached the platform. Luna’s presence beside me was a comfort against the oppressive stillness of the petrified changelings surrounding us. Her silver-shod hooves made soft clicks on the stone floor, a steady rhythm that contrasted with the quiet tension in the room. The two Lunar Guards flanking her stood alert, their leathery wings folded tightly against their sides.

Luna’s gaze swept over the dungeon, lingering on the statues for a moment before her voice came in low and icy. “A fitting prison.”

I swallowed hard, my remaining hand clenched at my side. “Gorgon petrification seemed like the most viable option at the time,” I replied. “Turned her weapons into bargaining chips.”

She nodded, her expression hardening. “And now, we solidify the Geas.”

I turned my attention to the platform, its rough surface illuminated by the faint light of my Light cantrip. The petrified swarm surrounded it like silent spectators, each statue frozen mid-motion. My gaze fell on the one closest to the platform: a changeling crouched low, its head bowed, forelegs raised in a gesture that almost resembled fear.

“Start with that one,” I said, nodding toward the cowering figure. It seemed... less threatening. Almost afraid. But I quickly buried that thought. They were all the same. They were Chrysalis’ swarm. None shone fear during the invasion.

Besides, the Geas required that I release Chrysalis’ swarm from petrification. The Geas did not require me to make sure they reached their queen in one piece.

The Lunar Guards moved quickly, their discipline proven in the measure of their movements. They flanked the statue and lifted it carefully, their combined strength more than enough to carry its weight. The sound of stone scraping against stone echoed harshly in the dungeon as they placed the changeling onto the platform.

I stepped forward, my breathing steady, though my heart pounded in my chest. Luna’s presence at my side was reassuring, and I was relieved that she decided to be here in person to support me in this.

I placed my left hand on the platform’s surface, feeling the cool stone beneath my fingers. My aura flared to life, a hazel glow that reflected in the dull surfaces of the statues around us. Mythical power surged through me as I connected to the platform, and my left eye burned with the now familiar sensation that came with it. It was a searing, wonderful ache, an almost intoxicating reminder of the new tier of strength I wielded.

The runes etched into the platform began to shimmer with a green light, the lines of magic coming to life as my energy flowed through them. The light grew brighter, bathing the room in a hazel glow that danced across the petrified swarm. I channeled the spell, the power coursing through me like liquid fire, until the runes pulsed with a steady rhythm.

The changeling statue on the platform began to crack. Small fissures spider-webbed across its surface, the sound sharp and brittle in the heavy silence. I held my breath as the cracks deepened, fragments of stone falling away to reveal the black, chitinous shell beneath.

With a final burst of energy, the spell completed. The last of the stone crumbled, falling to the platform in a pile of dust.

The changeling stood there, no longer petrified, its head still bowed, trembling slightly as if it hadn’t yet realized it was free.

The changeling's trembling filled the silence, a faint rattling noise as its chitin repeatedly bounced against the rough stone of the platform. Its head remained low, forelegs pressed close to its body. For a moment, I stood frozen, my heart pounding as I watched for the inevitable lunge or shapeshifting trick. My grip on the hilt of Promise tightened. When it made its move I would be ready.

But nothing happened.

The changeling didn’t lunge or hiss. It didn’t even look up to observe its surroundings. It just… stayed there, trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. In its current position it was completely exposed. It wouldn’t be able to react should I make a move now.

This was how it was when the gorgons turned it to stone?

I exchanged a quick glance with Luna, who stood impassive, her icy stare fixed on the creature. Noctra and the pair of Lunar Guards were still as statues themselves, their posture coiled and ready for action.

Yet not a soul moved.

What game is this? My mind raced, searching for the deception that had to be lurking beneath the changeling’s apparent fear. It couldn’t be this simple. These creatures were cunning, ruthless. Chrysalis’ brood didn’t cower — they wore the face of your loved ones and took everything they could.

I took a tentative step forward, my boots crunching softly against the platform as I stepped onto it. The changeling flinched at the sound, its entire body jolting as if I had struck it already. Its head found enough space to dip even lower.

“Stand up,” I commanded, my voice firm, trying to provoke some reaction that made sense. The changeling shrank even further into itself, its trembling intensifying.

Not an act. Or if it is, it is a damn good one.

I felt a prickle of unease. Killing it, if it came to that, wouldn’t be a challenge. I’d killed more than a single one of its kind during the invasion, each one of those seemed far more threatening than this cowering one. But this… this wasn’t what I expected.

“Look at me,” I tried again, softer this time. Nothing. The changeling remained rooted to the platform, as if petrified anew, but this time by fear in place of stone.

Luna’s voice cut through the tension, low and doubtful. “It shows no aggression. Perhaps this one is… different.”

I didn’t reply. My focus stayed on the creature. Slowly, I let my grip on Promise slacken. I extended my left hand to the air, open-palmed, a gesture I wasn’t sure it would even understand.

“You’re free now,” I said, keeping my tone calm, neutral. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

The changeling’s wings buzzed faintly, a sound almost like a shudder. It shifted slightly, just enough to peek up at me from its bowed position. The changeling was so close to the platform that its eyes reflected the green glow that faintly radiated from the enchanted stone.

“That’s it,” I coaxed, trying to keep my own voice steady. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Its gaze flicked to the sword at my side and back to my face, its trembling subsiding by a fraction. The changeling seemed to shrink even further into itself, chittering softly, a sound that could have been fear or something else entirely.

I crouched slowly, keeping my movements slow and deliberate, as to not scare the cowering changeling further. “I’m not your enemy,” I said, even as a part of me balked at the words. “You don’t have to hide.”

The changeling hesitated, its body language shifting subtly. Its head tilted slightly, its gaze locking onto mine for a long, silent moment. Then, inch by inch, it straightened just enough to meet my eyes fully, though its posture remained wary and low.

“There,” I said, quietly. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.”

The changeling’s trembling lessened as it lifted its head fully, revealing the details of its face. Its blue, pupil-less eyes glimmered faintly in the dim light, scanning me warily. A jagged horn sat crooked atop its head, framed by the webbed remnants of what I assumed was the changeling equivalent to a mane. Its legs bore the same unsettling holes I had seen on every other changeling before.

Even standing up, and not cowering, It didn’t look threatening. If anything, it seemed... lost. The sight tugged at something I didn’t expect — pity. I shoved the feeling aside, unwilling to let my guard drop completely around one of these things.

The changeling blinked slowly, then opened its mouth as if to speak. What came out was a soft, hesitant chittering, almost like a question. It closed its mouth again quickly, glancing around as if only now taking in its surroundings. Its wings buzzed faintly, and its posture sank once more, but it didn’t cower entirely this time.

“Can you talk?” I asked, making an effort to keep my tone neutral.

The changeling nodded quickly, then hesitated before speaking, its voice was high-pitched and strained, but definitely male. “Y-yes. I... I can talk.” his gaze roamed around the dungeon again, lingering on the petrified changelings before returning to me. “W-where am I? What... what happened?”

I straightened slightly, letting my hand rest on Promise’s pommel. “You’re in Canterlot. The castle dungeons to be exact. You were petrified during the battle. I just freed you.”

His eyes widened at that, and it took a half-step back. “Freed me?” he repeated, almost as though he didn't believe my words.

“Yes.” I studied him closely, looking for any hint of deceit. “What is your name?”

The changeling hesitated, his wings buzzing faintly again. “Thorax,” he said finally, almost too soft to hear. “My name is Thorax.”

I hadn’t expected a name. Most changelings I’d encountered before hadn’t bothered with anything beyond snarls or taunts before I had to kill them. A part of me wished it had stayed that way. “Thorax,” I repeated, watching as his ears twitched at the sound. “I’m Sebastian Hilam.”

Thorax nodded nervously, his gaze darting to Luna and the guards, who remained silent but vigilant. His trembling started again. “Are... are you going to hurt me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I sighed, some of my tension easing. If this was an act, it was an elaborate one, and a rather convincing one too. “No. Like I said, I’m not your enemy.” I glanced at the statues around us. “I’m here to free the rest of you.”

Thorax’s ears perked slightly, and he blinked at me in confusion. “Free... us?” His voice wavered, filled with disbelief. “Why? You’re not one of us. You don’t owe us anything.”

My jaw tightened, and I glanced briefly at Luna, who gave me a slight nod. “Your queen made a deal,” I said, my voice firm. “She’s under a Geas now, bound to obey. My part of the deal is freeing her swarm. All of you.”

Thorax froze, his breathing quickening. “The queen... submitted?” he asked, the words almost like a gasp. He shook his head, his wings flaring slightly. “I... I didn’t think she’d ever...”

“She lost,” I interrupted, my voice hardening. “I didn’t leave her with much of a choice.”

Thorax flinched but didn’t argue. He lowered his head, his trembling returning in full force. Just then, an idea struck me, and I looked at the changeling in a new light. The faster I break the petrification from the swarm, the faster they can get out of my city. If Thorax could help me with the process then I suppose I could tolerate his presence for a little while longer. Besides, he was the first changeling I’ve talked to that didn’t involve trying to murder me.

“Thorax,” I said, trying to pull his focus back. “Can you help me?”

His head snapped up, his expression shifting to one of startled confusion. “Help you?”

“Yes.” I gestured toward the other statues. “When they’re freed, they’re going to wake up thinking they’re still in the middle of a fight. I need someone who can help calm them down.”

Thorax blinked at me, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if searching for words. Finally, he gave a hesitant nod. “I... I’ll try.” He glanced nervously at the nearest statues. “But they might not listen to me. I’m... not exactly important.”

“Try anyway,” I said, straightening. “It’s better than the alternative.”

Thorax nodded again, his wings buzzing faintly as he took a tentative step closer to me. “O-okay. I’ll try.”

What came next was as tense as it was methodical. Luna's commanding presence ensured a sense of order, while Noctra and her Lunar Guards maintained a perimeter, and herded the freshly freed changelings. Thorax, for his part, was a bundle of nerves but ultimately proved invaluable. Though he stammered and fidgeted, he never once faltered in his attempts to calm his fellow changelings.

I took my place at the Platform of Disenchantment, the stone dais humming faintly as I worked the spell to break the petrification. The first few changelings we freed reacted exactly as I anticipated — bursting into frantic motion, hissing and flaring their wings, their minds still locked in the chaos of battle. Thorax, to my surprise, stepped forward each time, inserting himself between us and his newly awakened brethren.

“It’s okay!” he would insist, his voice trembling but loud enough to reach them. “The fight’s over! You’re safe! Please, just listen!”

Most changelings hesitated, their gazes surging between Thorax and the unfamiliar surroundings. Thorax’s presence seemed to put them at ease — his earnestness, his familiarity. Some calmed quickly, others took longer and required some convincing, but none made an outright attempt to attack.

Thorax’s demeanor shifted as the night wore on. Though he remained nervous, there was a visible determination in his actions, a need to prove himself. I watched as he reassured a particularly aggressive changeling, his voice breaking but his words steady. “We’re alive. That’s what matters. Just... trust me.”

By the time we called a halt, nearly three dozen changelings had been freed. They huddled together, their movements skittish and uncertain but no longer hostile. Luna addressed them briefly as Noctra left to retrieve more guards, her voice calm but commanding as she outlined the conditions of their release. The changelings listened, albeit grudgingly, their loyalty to Chrysalis evident in the defiant looks they cast her way.

More Lunar Guards arrived alongside Noctra. They quickly herded the changelings together and escorted them out of the dungeons. All were taken, except for one, Thorax.

Thorax, meanwhile, stood before me and seemed rather torn. I caught him glancing in the direction of his leaving brethren with longing, then toward me with uncertainty.

“You’re staying here,” I informed him.

Thorax blinked, his ears flattening as he shot worried looks toward the army of stone changelings. “Here?”

“In the castle,” Luna clarified. “You will assist Sebastian and I in the nights to come. Your cooperation will ensure this process remains... manageable. Once the last of the swarm is freed, you will leave with them. But if you wish to leave now, you may.”

Thorax took a moment to mull over his options before replying. “No. I’ll stay and do my best to help.”

Luna nodded approvingly, and Noctra alongside the pair of Lunar Guards stepped forward to escort Thorax to whatever room he would be staying in. As he followed her, he glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. But if I had to bet on it, I would say it was a happy one.

I exhaled slowly, glancing at Luna. “This is going to take a while.”

Her gaze softened as she stepped closer. “You’ve managed well tonight,” she said. “We will manage tomorrow and the nights after.”

As Thorax fully disappeared down the shadowed corridor, escorted by the guards, the oppressive silence of the dungeon returned. The weight of what lay around us — hundreds of petrified changelings, each frozen in a state of aggression or panic — pressed heavily on my chest. The sight of their twisted forms, the jagged holes in their limbs, and the sinister curve of their fangs made my stomach churn.

Luna moved closer, her ethereal mane brushing against my shoulder. Her warmth, usually comforting, now felt like a sharp contrast to the cold anger still simmering within me. I glanced at her, searching for words, but found none. My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard against the lump forming there.

“This place reeks of them,” I muttered, my voice low and bitter.

Luna’s gaze followed mine, her expression somber but controlled. “Indeed. The stench of their treachery lingers still.” Her voice was calm, but I could hear the edge beneath it, the barely contained fury that mirrored my own.

I turned away, unable to look at the changelings any longer. “I hate them, Luna,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “All of them. Even that one — Thorax. I don’t care if he’s ‘different’. They’ve taken so much from me. From us.”

She was silent for a moment before speaking. “Your hatred is not unwarranted, my love. They have wounded us both in ways that time alone cannot heal.” Her hoof reached out, resting lightly on my stump where my right arm used to be. “But hatred, unchecked, can consume even the strongest of hearts.”

I flinched at her touch, though not because of her. The memories of that day surged forward, unbidden. The false-Luna’s predatory smile, the searing pain as half the world’s light was snuffed out, and the lifeless changeling corpse left in her place — a cruel mockery of the one I loved. I squeezed my remaining hand into a fist, the tension radiating up my arm.

“I wanted this,” I confessed bitterly. “I wanted a reason to lash out. To tear them apart, one by one. I wanted to see them suffer for what they did.”

Luna stepped in front of me, forcing me to meet her gaze. Her eyes, though filled with pain, held a strength that steadied me. “And so did I,” she whispered. “When you spoke of what Chrysalis did to you, I wanted nothing more than to rend her limb from limb. To make her beg for mercy she would never receive.”

Her words should have been comforting, a shared bond in our pain and rage. But instead, they unsettled me. “And yet we didn’t,” I said, the anger in my voice laced with confusion. “Why didn’t we, Luna? Why did I stop you? Why are we here, standing among these statues, instead of out there making them pay?”

She sighed, her wings drooping slightly as she looked away. “Because you reminded me of what we stand to lose if we give in to that desire. What I reminded you in turn. This path… it is not one of forgiveness, but of restraint.”

The dungeon grew quieter then. Somewhere, deeper in the depths of the dungeon, was the nearly inaudible sound of dripping water. I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted. “Pretend that any of them are worth trusting. Pretend that I can move past this.”

“You are not alone in this,” Luna said softly, her wing curling around me. “And you need not pretend. Hatred is a fire, Sebastian, but even fire can be harnessed. Let it forge you into something stronger, rather than reduce you to ash.”

I turned to her, searching her face. “And you?” I asked. “Can you move past this?”

Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then she smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I do not know,” she admitted. “But I do know that vengeance would not soothe the ache in my heart. Not truly.”

I leaned into her embrace, the tension in my body slowly ebbing away as I placed my remaining hand on her scarred chest to feel the beat of her heart — it never failed to calm me. The cold stone of the dungeon walls felt a world away when she was this close. “It feels like we’re just waiting for the next attack,” I murmured. “The next betrayal.”

In response, Luna lifted a hoof and rested it lightly against my chest, over the place where Chrysalis had driven Promise. “Perhaps,” she said. “But we are stronger now than we were before. Stronger, and far more aware.”

I nodded, but my hatred wasn’t gone, not even close. But for now, in moments like this one, I could set it aside. For her. For us.

The darkness pressed in, alive with the whispers of lurking beasts, yet I was unshaken. Luna stood beside me, her presence chasing away the oppression of the shadows. Her hoof settled over my heart, steady and sure, while my hand covered hers as if to seal a silent vow. In that moment, the world’s cruelty lost its grip — no wrath, no despair, no sting of the past could touch me.

As a boy, I was once warned that love blinds.

But perhaps, it is a gift to see only what truly matters.