The Conjuration Wizard

Noctra and I had set about the task of gathering the dead while the rest celebrated above.

I don’t blame them, it was the right time for celebration after all. The Crystal Empire was now free of Sombra, and the Empire had a new Empress. But I couldn’t bring myself to celebrate, and neither could Noctra. Not after Citrine Dream. So we worked. We gathered what little was left of those slain under Sombra’s tender care.

We only got an hour into it before Cadance and Shining Armor came down, and practically dragged us out of that hellhole. They thanked us, and insisted that they could handle it. They all but ordered that we return to Canterlot as soon as possible.

It felt wrong to leave. There had to be something that I could do to make it all better.

But there wasn’t.

All I could do was leave.

I was tired.

I sat in the train bound for Canterlot. My Wizard’s Arm off, and resting across my lap. I’ve been staring at it since we departed from the Frozen North’s train station. Noctra sat next to me. No words were exchanged between us, because none were needed.

Twilight Sparkle sat with a sleeping Spike leaning heavily against her shoulder. Twilight had apparently sprung some trap that Sombra had set near the Heart. If Spike had not been there with Twilight, then everything would’ve played out different. Probably far more blood would’ve been shed.

We might have lost someone. Most likely more than one.

I glanced at the sleeping dragon in a new light. He was young, but quite brave. When I was his age I wouldn’t have even dreamed of jumping from the top of a castle like he did. That dragon placed a whole lot of faith on Cadance and Shining to catch him. A part of me envied his peace, the kind only youth and a clear conscience could bring.

Twilight Sparkle’s friends were spread throughout the compartment. We were in a personnel compartment that took up the entire carriage. It was far larger than the comparably tiny cabin I had rode in when we were on our way to the Frozen North so many hours ago.

I did not pay any attention to anyone else. I just felt… tired, but I couldn't sleep either.

So I sat.

The steady rhythm of the train moving along the tracks did little to soothe the storm roiling inside me. My Wizard’s Arm rested on my lap, inert and lifeless, its silver fingers curled slightly inward. I kept staring at it, as if the prosthetic arm might hold answers.

It didn’t, of course. Nothing did.

My left hand brushed over the polished surface of the Wizard’s Arm. The room felt heavy, like what had happened in the Crystal Empire had followed us onto the train and refused to let go. Noctra’s near-death replayed in my mind like some cursed memory loop, Sombra’s dark crystal spike glinting with malice and dark magic as it struck. Her gasp, the spray of blood, the way she fell — it all lingered, clawing at the edges of my sanity.

And then there was Aldin.

The hole his death had left in me felt impossibly wide today, as if seeing Noctra collapse had ripped it open all over again. My best-buddy’s final emotions echoed in the silence between heartbeats, the fear, the pain, the nothingness that followed. My hand clenched reflexively around nothing, fingers curling as if they could hold onto something that wasn’t there.

Surprisingly, what lingered most vividly in my mind was the image of Sombra in his final moments. He looked so… scared. In his last breaths, I had mocked him for his fear. He deserved it, I’d told myself — every second of suffering he endured was justice served.

I would do it all again. I didn’t regret a thing.

And yet, his death had brought no joy. There was no sense of triumph, no pride in justice duly dealt. Sombra was dead, and it meant nothing to me beyond the necessity of the act.

I wondered, though: did he feel the way I had when I died?

My mind wandered back to those I had killed before him.

Could the death worm comprehend fear as it died? Did the hydra? Did the heads know what was coming when Aldin dropped the necklace onto them? Did they share Sombra’s terror? Or my own? And the changelings — what ran through their minds in those final moments?

Likely thoughts of their hive. Their fellow changelings. Their queen.

Chrysalis.

Her name resurfaced like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. I’d tried to keep her out of my thoughts, but after Noctra’s near-death, the memories clawed their way back in the silence of the train ride.

Why had she taken Luna’s form? Why did she use Promise to kill me? Why?

Each question brought a phantom ache to the surface — my missing eye, my severed arm. A deeper ache stabbed at my heart, as though mocking me with the irony of my own death — a cruel reflection of the lives I had taken.

The train’s steady rhythm matched the tempo of my brooding as it carried me closer to home. The truth was unchanging, immutable. Killing brought me no joy. No triumph. No closure. It brought only necessity.

If I wanted to build a future with Luna, to keep her and what we hoped to share safe, then more blood would be spilled. Perhaps there would be no end to it.

And still, it was a burden I accepted without any hesitation. Her love was worth any sacrifice.

My eye drifted to my Wizard’s Arm, its silversheen digits glinting faintly. A thought slithered through my mind, dark and foreboding: How would Chrysalis react if I wrapped this hand around her throat and let Decay consume her?

The idea gave me no satisfaction, no catharsis. Only an emptiness that felt boundless.

I closed my eye and exhaled softly.

I just wanted to go home.

“Sebastian,” Noctra’s voice was rough but soft, breaking the silence and my thoughts alike. She didn’t look at me, her eyes still on the window. “We’re almost there.”

I nodded, the motion stiff. Words felt like a chore I wasn’t ready for. I knew she was trying to keep me tethered to the present, and away from the recent past and my brooking. But the weight of it all made it difficult to respond.

The train began to slow as Canterlot came into view, the golden light of evening painting the city’s spires in hues of amber and rose. The sight should’ve been beautiful, but I felt nothing. My heart was locked away, braced for the inevitable crash that I knew would come once the immediate demands of duty were gone.

The station came into view, bustling with activity. I noticed them almost immediately.

Luna stood on the platform, her silhouette unmistakable in the light of day. Her mane shimmered like the night sky itself, stars weaving through its ethereal flow. Mira was draped across her back, half-hidden in Luna’s mane and half-asleep while clutching to Luna’s peytral with tiny hooves.

Celestia was beside them, her golden regalia catching the light as she exchanged a few quiet words with Luna. Her presence radiated an almost motherly warmth and strength, but my focus was solely on Luna and Mira.

Home was in sight.

As the train eased to a stop, I felt something shift. The sight of them — whole, safe, waiting — pushed back the darkness, at least for now. Mira stirred slightly, her sleepy eyes finding me through the window, and a small smile played across her face.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep me together for just a little while longer.

The train's hiss of steam as it came to a halt snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. My gaze stayed locked on Luna and Mira as the conductor called for passengers to disembark. The doors creaked open, and Twilight Sparkle stepped out first, her horn faintly glowing to keep Spike securely balanced on her back as he slept on. Her stride was purposeful as she closed the distance to Celestia, her friends close behind her.

Noctra and I followed. Her stride was deliberate and slower than usual. The fresh wound she carried might have been hidden behind her stoic exterior, but I could see its toll in the subtle stiffness of her movements and the faint shadow around her eyes. She would never admit it, but the near brush with death had left its mark.

Dying takes a lot out of you. Nearly dying? Likely the same.

Luna’s gaze found mine the moment I stepped onto the platform. Her poised demeanor softened, and I caught the faintest quiver in her breath as she took a single step toward me. Though she carried herself with a near perfect regal grace, her concern slipped through for just a moment. For a fleeting moment, she saw through me — caught the cracks in my expression before I could fully don the mask of confidence I wore for little Mira’s sake.

I didn't want Mira to see me like that.

Mira, perched on Luna’s back, perked up at the sight of Noctra and I. She scrambled down with the clumsy eagerness of a tired foal and bolted toward me, her small wings flapping as if they’d somehow make her faster. She skidded to a stop just short of colliding with me, her amber eyes wide and shimmering.

She looked exhausted. Just how long had she been awake?

“You came back,” she said, her voice trembling, as if she’d held onto my promise with every ounce of her being.

I crouched down, resting my left hand on her shoulder. “I promised you I would.”

Her little frame launched into me, and I caught her in a one-armed hug. She buried her face against my chest as she grew muffled against my shirt, “I kept them safe. Your glasses.”

“I never doubted you, my little apprentice,” I murmured, holding her tightly.

When she pulled back, Mira fished the Teashades of Night out from beneath her wing, the lenses catching the fading sunlight. She held them out, her expression torn between pride and reluctance.

“Here,” she said as she offered up the shades with a sort of reverence.

I reached out with my left hand but paused, tapping her forehead gently instead. “You keep them a little longer,” I said. “They suit you.”

Her eyes glistened and crossed as they tried to track the tap. A sound escaped her that sounded almost like a squeak. “Really?”

“Really,” I confirmed. “But that means you have to look after them even better now, alright?”

She nodded vigorously, her grip tightening on the glasses as though they were the most precious treasure in the world — a true gift from the Consort of the Moon. Luna approached us then, her gaze softening as it shifted from Mira to me. She didn’t say anything, but the way she smiled said more than words could. Her magic gently tugged me to my feet as she stepped closer.

Her voice was a soothing melody that began to fill the boundless emptiness that had grown during the ride back. “You’ve returned to me, as I knew you would.”

“And you waited for me,” I replied, unable to keep the emotion from creeping into my voice. What had followed me all the way back from the Crystal Empire eased a little in her presence, her proximity was something I desperately craved.

Mira dashed to Noctra, who stood a few feet away. The captain of the Lunar Guard, known for her unshakable demeanor, bent slightly as Mira collided with her legs. Noctra’s leathery wings curled protectively around the foal, and for a moment, her stoic mask fell away, replaced by a rare, fleeting smile. Mira’s excited, relieved chatter spilled forth in a flurry, and Noctra’s eyes softened, her focus entirely on her child.

The sight brought a bittersweet ache to my chest. Seeing Mira so full of life, so trusting — it reminded me of why I fought so fiercely, why I endured. Yet, her energy and innocence brought Citrine Dream to mind. The mare who hadn’t been nearly as fortunate.

Luna’s wing brushed lightly against my shoulder, a gesture that brought me back from the dark labyrinth of memory. Her touch anchored me, her presence reminded me that I didn’t need to carry this weight alone. “Shall we?” she asked, nodding toward the castle glowing under the noonday sun.

I turned to meet her gaze. In those eyes I found understanding. She always saw through me, straight to the heart of whatever I tried to hide. Her insight was unnerving yet intimately comforting, a constant tether to something greater than the storm of emotions that clawed at my sanity.

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I agreed, my voice coming out far quieter than I intended.

As we stepped away, Mira called out behind us, her voice bright and teasing in spite of the exhaustion that was beginning to tinge her tone. “Don’t stay up too late talking, okay?”

Luna chuckled, a sound so soft yet full of warmth that it chased away the remnants of the Frozen North’s cold within me. “We’ll try, little one.”

We departed from the station before anyone else. Our walk to our chambers was filled with a companionable silence. The city around us faded into a muted blur, its hum of life a distant backdrop to the singular presence at my side.

When we reached our chambers, the door closed behind us with a soft click. Luna lingered, her eyes steady on me. She didn’t speak, waiting for me to find my words.

The silence was soothing. If I strained my ears then I could faintly hear the distant rhythm of life in the castle. I exhaled slowly, releasing the weight that had clung to me since I first stepped foot back in the Frozen North.

“It’s good to be home,” I murmured, my eye locked with hers.

Luna’s lips curved faintly in the softest of acknowledgments. She stepped closer, her movements languid yet graceful. Her wings shifted, folding tightly against her sides as she guided me toward the bed without a word.

The mattress gave slightly under my weight as I sat, the exhaustion clawing at me finally given permission to settle. Luna’s magic flared briefly, the soft glow of her horn pulling the room’s curtains shut, dimming the noon light that dared to intrude on our perfect sanctuary. The room felt warmer, quieter, a world removed from everything beyond its walls.

The complete opposite of the Frozen North.

Her regalia came next, each piece removed with care. The silver shoes were placed gently aside, the black peytral and crown following. Each action was slow, almost ritualistic, as though shedding these symbols of her station allowed her to step fully into the moment with me. Without the adornments, she looked… softer. More like the Luna I knew in quiet moments than the Goddess of the Night revered by so many.

Her eyes met mine again, and she crossed the small space between us. She climbed onto the bed and pulled me into her embrace, her forelegs wrapping around my shoulders. Her coat smelled of lavender and the crisp, cool air of night. She smelled like home. She was home. I leaned into her, my cheek pressing against the curve of her neck as her wings curled protectively around me.

“You came back to me,” she murmured, her voice barely louder than a breath. There was no accusation, no judgment, just a quiet sort of relief that settled into my bones like the cure to every fear I ever knew.

“I told you I would,” I replied, my voice just as low. My left hand found the scar along her back, brushing over the hidden mark with reverence. Her warmth seeped into me, chasing away the lingering chill of the Frozen North.

We stayed like that for a while, tangled together in silence. It was enough — her presence, the steady rise and fall of her chest against mine, the gentle beat of her heart against mine.

Eventually, her voice broke through the quiet. “Something is troubling you.”

I stiffened, the memories I’d been trying to bury threatening to rise again. The images of Noctra, bloodied and desperately trying — and failing — at breathing; Citrine Dream, trapped in her personal hell. They were all woven together in a tapestry of guilt and loss that refused to unravel.

Luna’s hoof brushed against my scarred cheek, pulling me back to the present. Her eyes searched mine, but she didn’t press further. She simply held me tighter.

Luna’s gentle insistence loosened something in me. The knot of tension I’d been holding onto so tightly began to unwind, even if only slightly. Her hoof trailed down my arm, finding my hand and guiding it to rest against her scarred chest. Her heartbeat was steady beneath my palm, grounding me in the here and now.

“I spent the night with Mira,” she said softly, her tone light but warm. “She was quite determined to keep me company, though I suspect she may have been keeping herself occupied as much as me.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips, in spite of the storm that churned in my mind. “Did she behave?”

Luna chuckled, the sound like a lullaby. “Oh, she was a perfect lady — for the most part. She practically demanded that I teach her about the constellations, as you once often did. I must admit, she is as eager a student as you.”

I closed my eye, the image of Mira’s wide-eyed wonder as she soaked in Luna’s knowledge flickering through my mind. It was easy to picture, and for a moment, it further dulled the edges of my frayed nerves.

“And then,” Luna continued, “she introduced me to a most peculiar pastime. A game involving chutes and ladders. A strange concept, though I admit… I found it surprisingly enjoyable. Mira was rather ruthless in her victories.”

I chuckled softly, the sound surprising even myself. “She always is. She has a competitive streak a mile wide.”

“That she does,” Luna agreed, her voice carrying a fondness that mirrored my own. “She reminds me of you in that way. Though I fear I may have fueled her ego when I let her win the final match.”

“You let her win?” I asked, raising a brow and pulling back slightly to meet her gaze.

Luna smirked, her expression mischievous. “It was only fair after she bested me three times in a row.”

The laughter that escaped me was unbidden but welcome, breaking through the heaviness in my chest. Luna’s eyes sparkled at the sound, her lips curving into a smile that made the room feel brighter despite the drawn curtains.

“She asked about you,” Luna said after a moment, her tone softening. “She wanted to know when you would return. I told her you would come back as soon as you could.”

My chest tightened. The thought of Mira waiting, trusting so completely that I would return, was paradoxically both a comfort and a weight. “She doesn’t deserve to worry like that,” I murmured.

“She’s stronger than you give her credit for,” Luna replied, her hoof brushing against my cheek again. “She knows how much you care for her, as do I. And she knows you would move mountains to keep her safe.”

I exhaled slowly, the tension creeping back. Luna’s words were kind, but they didn’t erase the memories — Noctra’s near death, Citrine’s sorrow-filled gaze, and the shadow of Aldin that had turned from lingering to looming.

Her wing curled tighter around me, pulling me closer. “Whatever it is,” she said quietly, “I am here, my love.”

The sincerity in her voice cracked something deep within me. I rested my forehead against her shoulder, her warmth a comforting reminder of all I needed to say.

“I’ll tell you,” I whispered after a long pause, my voice low but steady. “About everything. About what happened in the Crystal Empire.”

Luna’s embrace didn’t falter, her silence urging me on without pressure. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. The words were there, just waiting to be spoken. It was time.

I began slowly, the words tumbling out rough and uneven, like an unsteady stream breaking through a dam. “When we arrived at the station in the Frozen North… Sombra had already been there. The ponies who lived and worked there were slaughtered. We found some signs that a few might’ve escaped into the frozen wastes, but there wasn’t time to search for them, and I doubt any survived. Not with Sombra lurking in the storm that surrounded the Empire.”

Luna’s wing shifted, and began to brush circles into the small of my back. The sensation soothed me even as my mind drifted back to the horrors we had seen. Her silence was patient, her presence steady. It gave me the strength to continue.

“Inside the supply depot… there were three ponies. Dead. Skewered by crystals. He — he butchered them.” My voice faltered, and I felt her hoof press gently against my chest. “We had to keep moving. Sombra was waiting for us in the storm, but we managed to break through the storm, and Cadance put up a barrier to hold Sombra at bay while Noctra and I searched the castle.”

I paused, trying to summon the will to relive what came next. Luna’s forelegs tightened around me, her quiet support unwavering.

“We found his laboratory hidden under his throne room,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper now. “It was a tomb. The walls were lined with horns, Luna. Crystal unicorn horns. And wing bones from crystal pegasi. All of them. Every last crystal unicorn and pegasus — dead.”

Luna inhaled sharply, her body tensing beneath my touch. She didn’t speak, but the weight of her reaction hung in the air between us.

“There was a table,” I continued. “It was… stained. And a desk with just one book. It held his plan. A theorem for some kind of ascension — an ascension that required the death of either you or Celestia, along with the use of the door in the Crystal Mountains.”

Her silence grew heavier, her heartbeat quickening under my hand. I looked up at her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with something between sorrow and fury.

“I destroyed it,” I said firmly, gripping at her chest as if to anchor us both. “I figured out how to weaponize Decay, and I turned it to dust. Whatever madness he planned to unleash, it’s gone now.”

She exhaled, her tension easing slightly, though her wings remained wrapped tightly around me.

“But it wasn’t just the relics of his cruelty we found,” I said after a moment. “There was… a ghost. Her name was Citrine Dream. She was a young crystal unicorn — barely an adult. Sombra tortured and killed her over a thousand years ago.”

Luna’s lips parted, her expression softening into something indescribably tender. “A ghost?” she murmured, her voice full of quiet sorrow.

“She thought Noctra and I were her younger sisters,” I said, my throat tightening. “She didn’t realize we weren’t — she was so lost in her pain, her fear, that she couldn’t see anything else. Not until the Crystal Heart was activated and Sombra was finally killed.”

Luna brushed her hoof along my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “And then?” she asked gently.

“And then… we helped her pass on. I couldn’t stop thinking about her — how much she reminded me of Mira. How young she was, and how much she’d suffered.” My voice broke, and I pressed my face into Luna’s shoulder. “We helped her, but… it didn’t feel like enough.”

Luna held me tightly, her muzzle resting against my hair. Her silence offered a comfort that words couldn’t convey.

I took another shaky breath, knowing there was more. “During the fight with Sombra, Noctra… she was stabbed in the throat. I thought she was going to die, Luna. For a moment, I saw Aldin. I felt it all over again. But I managed to save her. Samir saved her. I need to thank him for that.”

Luna’s hoof pressed gently against the back of my head, her voice barely audible. “She survived, my love. You saved her just as much as he did.”

I nodded against her, the memories still too vivid, too raw. “I couldn’t lose her. Not her too.”

“You didn’t,” Luna said, her voice soft but firm. “You didn’t.”

The quiet that followed was heavy but not suffocating. I could feel her strength, her understanding, even as my own emotions churned within me. For the first time since I’d returned, I felt like the emptiness receding.

In her loving embrace, I began to drift. Sleep almost claimed me.

But then Luna began to speak.

Her voice was low, almost distant, as if she were speaking more to herself than to me. “I still remember the cold of the Frozen North, how it seeped into every bone. The monsters pouring from the portal were endless, their howls echoing through the mountains. We fought for days, my sister and I… and yet, we argued on.”

I stirred, forcing myself out of the haze of near-sleep. Her words carried an edge that pulled me fully awake. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

Luna’s wing curled around me tighter, and she sighed, her breath warm against my hair. “A thousand years ago, before everything fell apart, my sister and I faced incursions from the Frozen North. Monsters we had never encountered before came in droves, pouring out of a portal in the Crystal Mountains. We managed to seal the portal with a door, but it was not without cost. The battles were grueling, and while our guards fought bravely, the cost of their lives haunted us both.”

She paused, her gaze distant, and I could tell she was reliving it all. I didn’t interrupt.

“That was the first time my sister and I truly disagreed,” Luna continued, her tone heavy. “I insisted we focus on the portal. If we didn’t seal it, the monsters would keep coming, and would attack us while we dealt with Sombra. It was our duty to Equestria to stop them at their source with utmost haste. But my sister… she believed Sombra was the greater threat. She argued that his evils had to be stopped first. She didn’t know what he was planning, but she was certain it would be catastrophic.”

I could feel the tension in her body as she spoke, as if the weight of that long-ago argument still lingered. “And so, we argued,” she said softly. “For days, while our guards fought and died, we bickered like foals. By the time we turned our attention to Sombra, it was too late. He already had his curse ready to vanish the Crystal Empire into the ether, should he lose against us.”

Her voice cracked, and I reached up, placing my hand gently on her cheek. She leaned into the touch but didn’t stop speaking. “If we had acted sooner… if we hadn’t been so consumed by our disagreement, perhaps the Empire wouldn’t have vanished. Perhaps Citrine Dream would’ve been able to live her life fully.”

“You did what you thought was right,” I said quietly.

She opened her eyes and looked down at me. “But was it right, Sebastian? My choice… it divided us. It cost us precious time. Time that Sombra needed to enact his curse. The Crystal Empire was lost for a thousand years. And all because we quarreled like foals.”

The bitterness in her tone struck me harder than her words. I sat up slightly, meeting her eyes. “What happened back then wasn’t your fault, Luna. You and Celestia both had impossible choices to make, and no knowledge of Sombra’s true plans. You both did what you thought was right.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away. “I wonder,” she said softly. “My sister saved one member of the Crystal Empire’s royal bloodline before the Empire vanished. A single life that led to Cadance. Perhaps… perhaps she had seen the greater picture when I did not.”

Her admission hung heavy in the air, but I wouldn’t let it go unchallenged. “You were protecting Equestria,” I said firmly. “I would have done the same.”

She turned back to me, her expression searching. “Would you?”

I nodded without hesitation. “Yes. Because it wasn’t just about the portal or the monsters or Sombra — it was about doing what you believed was best. That’s what you’ve always done, Luna. You act from your heart, and that’s why so many of us trust you.”

Her eyes softened, the shadows in them easing just a fraction. “Even if it meant delaying our fight against Sombra?”

I reached up, brushing a stray lock of her mane away from her face. “Even then. You couldn’t have known what he would do. No one could have known.”

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her gaze locked on mine. Then she exhaled softly, her wing curling around me once more. “Perhaps. But looking back now… I cannot help but think that my sister was right. We should have stopped him first.”

Her words were a quiet confession, tinged with a sorrow that ran deeper than I could fathom. I tightened my hold on her, resting my head against her shoulder. “If I’d been there, Luna, I would’ve stood by your side. Not because I thought it was the perfect choice, but because I’d have believed in you.”

She leaned into me. “You are too kind to me, my love.”

“No,” I said simply. “I just know you. I trust you.”

For a while, neither of us spoke, the silence wrapping around us like a protective cocoon. In that moment, the weight of the past seemed to lessen, even if just a little, and I felt the tension in her muscles ease as she held me close.

Her steady breaths brushed against my hair, her scent of lavender and cool night air wrapping around me like a familiar blanket. I closed my eye, allowing myself a moment to simply exist in her presence. She was my sanctuary, the one place where the wounds of my soul didn’t feel like gaping chasms.

“I thought it would help,” I murmured, my voice breaking the quiet. She shifted slightly, her gaze sliding to meet mine. “Killing him. Sombra. I thought it would make me feel better.”

Her wing tightened around me, her silence encouraging me to continue.

“It didn’t.” The admission felt raw, scraped from somewhere deep within. “Even when I struck him down, even when I watched him burn away to nothingness, it didn’t help. All I could think about was how much I wanted to go home. All I wanted was to hear you say you loved me again. That was all that mattered.”

Luna’s expression softened, a sadness lingering in her eyes that mirrored my own. She lowered her head, her muzzle brushing against my temple in a gesture so tender it made my chest ache. “Sebastian…”

Her voice was steady, but I didn’t let her finish. My hand moved gently over her chest, resting just above the scar that marked the place she’d nearly lost everything — where Celestia’s blade meant to kill her had failed. She once told me it was her reminder of the last battle they fought before she was banished to the moon. To me, it was a testament to her strength, her will to survive.

How close she had come to death before we ever even met.

Lifting my head, I pressed my lips to that scar, just as I had before. Her breath caught, a subtle shiver running through her as my kiss lingered there. I felt her heartbeat beneath my lips, steady and unyielding. This was why I placed myself into danger, why I survived those dangers.

For her. For these precious moments.

When I pulled back, her gaze was already on me, her cyan eyes soft but burning with something deeper — something only meant for me. Her mane, a shimmering cascade of stars, shifted around us as if drawn by her emotions, brushing my cheek like a caress.

“Luna,” I said, my voice low. “When everything feels broken… when I feel broken… you make it right.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, one that reached her eyes. “It is not I alone who does this,” she whispered. “We mend each other.”

Her wing drew me closer, and I melted into her warmth, my head resting against her chest now. The rhythm of her heart, steady and strong, was my anchor. My rock. My hand moved idly along her side, tracing the curve of her side with slow, tender motions. I loved how her breath hitched when I touched her, how she leaned into my affection as if she couldn’t help herself.

I murmured, “I’ll never stop loving you.”

Her hoof came to rest lightly against my arm, her touch deliberate and soft. “I should hope not,” she teased, her tone light, but her eyes betrayed the depth of her emotions. “For you are the keeper of my heart.”

Her words sent a quiet thrill through me, one I didn’t bother hiding. She always had a way of cutting straight to the core of me, of saying something simple yet profound. My response wasn’t in words but action — I nuzzled closer to her, inhaling her scent and letting it wash away any lingering doubts.

“Sebastian,” she said softly, her voice carrying that musical lilt that always seemed to echo in my soul. “I love you.”

I closed my eye, letting those three words settle over me. “Say it again.”

Her chuckle was warm, vibrating through her chest. “I love you.”

I opened my eye to meet hers, my voice thick with sincerity. “Those are my favorite words.”

Her expression softened even further, and she pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Then I shall speak them as often as you wish, for they are true.”

And in that moment, there was no Sombra, no scars, no regrets — just her, me, and the love we shared.