Chapter Text
The delicate task at hand demanded my complete focus. Each bead of gold required precise imbuing with the essence of the Fireball spell. One significant enough of a mistake, and the bead could detonate, triggering a deadly chain reaction of Fireballs that would undoubtedly spell my end. Needless to say, all open flames were strictly prohibited from my room until every bead was safely attached to the Necklace of Fireballs.
Note to self: Develop an item that grants immunity to one or more energy types, preferably fire. Everyone loves throwing around fire.
The bead’s creation emitted a faint, flickering glow that cast dancing shadows on the walls, a mesmerizing display of arcane blues and fiery reds. Nearby, Aldin perched on his usual spot, watching me intently with his large, curious eyes.
“Careful there, Seb,” Aldin said, his voice a mix of teasing and genuine concern. “Wouldn’t want to blow us both to pieces just because your mind’s wandering off again.”
I chuckled, shaking my head as I delicately applied the final touch of magic to the bead, sealing it with a whisper of arcane energy.
“My mind’s not wandering,” I lied, even though we both knew better. I focused on the bead, feeling the power settle into the gold with a faint hum. The truth was, my thoughts had been slipping away more often than not lately, and they always seemed to drift toward the same place — or rather, the same mare.
“Sure it’s not,” Aldin quipped, his tone as dry as the parchment scattered across my workbench. “I’ve seen you staring off into space more in the past week than I have in months. Let me guess, you’re thinking about a certain princess?”
I didn’t respond immediately, my fingers working to attach the bead to the necklace without setting off the volatile spell trapped within. The soft clink of gold on gold echoed in the quiet room.
When I was sure the bead was secure, I glanced over at Aldin, trying to deflect. “I’m just focused on this project, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh,” Aldin said, the skepticism in his voice obvious. He tilted his head, his large eyes narrowing playfully. “And I’m just a regular owl. You’ve been moping around here like you’ve lost something, and I’m willing to bet it’s got something to do with the fact that you haven’t seen Luna in, what, a week?”
My hands stilled for a moment, his words hitting closer to home than I was willing to admit. It had been a week since I last saw her, a week since I watched her try on the items I’d crafted, and a week since I’d felt this gnawing sense of longing whenever I thought of her.
“I’m not moping,” I said, though the words sounded hollow even to me. I forced my attention back to the necklace, but it was no use. My mind was already drifting again, back to the memory of Luna’s smile, the way her eyes lit up when she tried on the laurel, the soft laugh she’d given when I handed her the teashades.
“Seb,” Aldin’s voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to the present. “You’re doing it again.”
I sighed, setting down the necklace and rubbing the back of my neck. There was no point in denying it anymore, not to myself, and certainly not to Aldin. “Yeah… yeah, I guess I am.”
Aldin hopped closer, his eyes filled with that strange mix of wisdom and mischief that only he could pull off. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you? Never thought I’d see the day when you, of all people, started daydreaming about a mare.”
“I’m not daydreaming — it is nighttime,” I grumbled, though my heart wasn’t in it. I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about her, Aldin. It’s like, every time I try to focus on something else, she’s there, in the back of my mind.”
“Sounds like love to me,” Aldin said, and though his tone was still teasing, there was an undercurrent of seriousness that made my stomach twist.
Love. The word hung in the air between us, heavy and daunting. I wasn’t sure if that was what I was feeling — or maybe I was just too afraid to admit it. Love was something I’d read about in books, seen in plays, but I’d never thought it would happen to me. Not like this, not with someone like Luna.
“Maybe,” I muttered, more to myself than to Aldin. I could feel his gaze on me, sharp and knowing, but I kept my eyes on the necklace in front of me, pretending to be engrossed in my work.
“Why don’t you go see her?” Aldin suggested after a moment. “It’s not like she’s avoiding you, right?”
“No, it’s not that.” I shook my head. “She’s just busy. Running the kingdom, preparing for whatever missions she’s going to send me on. We both have a lot on our plates.”
“And that’s all the more reason to see her,” Aldin pressed. “If you’re really falling for her, don’t you think you should spend time together while you can? Before she sends you off to who-knows-where?”
His words sent a chill through me, a reminder of the conversation I’d overheard between Luna and Celestia. The missions. The dangerous, isolated places she would send me, far away from Canterlot, and far away from her. I hadn’t told Aldin what I’d overheard, and he didn’t know the full extent of what those missions could mean.
But he was right about one thing — if I was going to be sent away, I didn’t want to leave with things between us unfinished.
As I considered this, a sudden, sharp knock echoed through the room. I glanced at the door, my heart skipping a beat. Aldin gave me a curious look, but I was already on my feet, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread.
"Expecting someone, Seb?" Aldin asked, his tone light but edged with curiosity.
I shook my head, moving toward the door. "No, but I think I know who it is."
As I reached the door, I felt the familiar hum of the Arcane Lock spell I’d cast over it react to my approach. It was a protective measure, ensuring no one could freely enter or leave. I knew of only one person who would come to me at this hour of night.
Taking a deep breath, I released the lock with a turn of the doorknob and opened the door.
Luna stood in the doorway, her midnight-blue mane flowing gently around her like a living constellation. There was something different in her eyes this time — a weight that hadn’t been there before.
"Luna," I said softly, stepping aside to let her in. "Is everything alright?"
She hesitated for a moment before entering, her hooves silent against the floor. I closed the door behind her, the Arcane Lock automatically engaging and enhancing the already in-place lock.
“Sebastian,” she began, her voice holding an unusual softness that caught me off guard. “I apologize for coming unannounced.”
“No need to apologize,” I replied, watching as she moved further into the room. “You are always welcome here.”
She offered me a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked, as if something heavy had been weighing on her for days. Had she been this tired when I last saw her? Or was this something new?
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her gaze drifting to the nearly-finished Necklace of Fireballs on my workstation. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy, I see.”
I followed her gaze, shrugging slightly. “Just working on a project. Something with a little kick to it.”
Luna nodded, but there was a distant look in her eyes, as if she were only half-listening. After a moment, she turned to face me fully, her expression unreadable. “I have something I need to discuss with you. Something important.”
The tone of her voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt the air in the room grow heavy with unspoken tension. I knew, without her saying anything, that this was about the missions. The ones I wasn’t supposed to know about, but had overheard nonetheless.
“Of course,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “What is it?”
Luna took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. “I have two missions that require your talents. The first is urgent and must be completed as soon as possible. A death worm has been sighted in the Badlands near Dodge City, and it poses a significant threat to the nearby settlement. You must track it down and eliminate it before it can cause any harm.”
I nodded slowly, processing the gravity of her request. A death worm was no small threat — about fifteen feet long, easily a thousand pounds, capable of spitting both acid and electricity. It was a lethal force of nature, particularly to those unprepared or without the capacity for flight. As I compared the creature's capabilities to my own, confidence began to build within me. It would be a dangerous task, but I was certain I could handle it — probably without too much difficulty, provided it didn't catch me off guard.
I nodded, already calculating what I would need for such a task in the Badlands. “I can handle that. And the second?”
She hesitated a moment before continuing. “The second mission is more… delicate. I need you to go to the Crystal Mountains and locate a door made of ice and gems. You are to mark and verify its location, but under no circumstances are you to open it or attempt to pass through it or mention the door or its location to anyone.”
“A door of ice and gems?” I repeated, frowning slightly. “Why is it so important?”
Luna’s expression grew guarded, and she shook her head. “That is not for you to know at this time. Just… do as I ask, and report back to me once both missions are completed.”
There was something in her voice that made me uneasy, but I pushed the feeling aside. “Understood. Won’t mention the door to a soul. I’ll leave for Dodge City first thing in the morning.”
Luna nodded, though her eyes remained troubled, as if the weight of what she had to do was pressing down on her. I could feel the tension in the room, thick and unyielding, and a part of me wanted to reach out, to reassure her that everything would be fine. But before I could act on that impulse, Luna’s horn began to glow with a soft, ethereal light.
I watched, my curiosity piqued, as the air around her shimmered. In an instant, a long, slender object materialized before her, suspended in the air by her magic. It was a sword — a beautifully crafted longsword, sheathed in a dark, ornate scabbard. The hilt was wrapped in midnight-blue leather, and the pommel bore a familiar mark: Luna’s cutie mark, intricately engraved into the metal.
My breath caught in my throat as memories surged back, unbidden. I knew this sword. It was the same longsword I had wielded in my last nightmare, the one I’d used to decapitate the vrock demon from Meridin’s childhood. The vividness of the sword had stayed with me, sparking curiosity in me at times, but I had always dismissed it as just a dream. But now, seeing the sword here, in the waking world, I realized that it had been something more. Something real.
“This sword…” I began, my voice barely a whisper as I stared at the weapon. “I’ve seen it before… in my dreams.”
Luna’s gaze softened, a hint of sorrow in her eyes as she floated the sword toward me. “This sword is not of this world alone. It exists in both the physical plane and the dream plane, as do many of my own weapons. It has served me well in the past, and now… I wish for it to serve you.”
I hesitated, my hand hovering over the sword’s hilt. The weight of her words, and the sword itself, felt immense. “Luna, I—”
“Please,” she interrupted, her voice firm yet pleading. “Take it, Sebastian. I cannot always be there to protect you, not in the dreaming or waking world. But with this, you will carry a part of me with you. It will guide you, shield you, as it once did for me.”
I hesitated for a moment, the weight of the moment settling in. This was more than just a weapon. It was a gift, a symbol of trust, and perhaps something deeper. Slowly, I reached out and took the sword from her magical grasp. The sheath was cool to the touch, and as my fingers wrapped around the hilt, I felt a surge of power, a connection to the blade that I couldn’t quite explain.
“I will keep it safe,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Luna stepped closer, her gaze intense. “You must do more than that, Sebastian. This sword is not just for protection — it is a reminder. A reminder that you are not alone, even in the darkest of times.”
I swallowed hard, the significance of her words not lost on me. “I understand.”
She held my gaze for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. “Then promise me something.”
“Anything,” I replied, almost without thinking.
“Promise me that you will return. No matter what happens on these missions, no matter how dangerous they may be, you will make it back to me.”
The earnestness in her voice, the unspoken plea beneath her words, hit me like a physical blow. There was no mistaking the fear that lingered in her eyes, the fear of losing me. It was a fear I shared, though I hadn’t fully acknowledged it until now, never fully tasted its bite.
“I promise,” I said, my voice steady, even as my heart raced. “I’ll come back. I’ll always come back.”
For a moment, the tension between us softened, replaced by a quiet understanding. Luna gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and I saw a flicker of relief cross her features. But it was fleeting, and soon her usual composure returned.
I looked down at the sword in my hand, running my thumb over the engraved cutie mark on the pommel. “What’s its name?” I asked, feeling that the sword, like all great weapons, deserved one.
Luna paused, her gaze distant for a moment as if searching for the right words. Then, with a small, almost wistful smile, she said, “Promise. The sword’s name is Promise.”
The name resonated within me, echoing the vow I had just made to her. It was fitting, in more ways than one.
“Promise,” I repeated softly, feeling the weight of that word, of everything it meant, as I looked into her eyes. “Perfect.”
Luna’s smile grew, though it was tinged with sadness. “It is yours now, Sebastian. May it keep you safe… and may it guide you safely back to me.”
I nodded, unable to find the right words. As I watched her, I felt a sense of resolve, a determination to fulfill the promise I’d just made. I would complete this mission, any others she needed me to undertake, and I would return — not just because it was my duty, but because of her.
With one last lingering look, Luna turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind her. I was left alone, the sword — Promise — still clutched in my hand.
And as I looked down at the pommel that carried her mark, I felt a renewed sense of purpose solidify within me.
I just have to make sure that I don't die.
That would make her cry.
I really hate it when people cry.