There was a rumor about a singing voice heard only at night along a road far from the royal capital. The owner of that voice was a girl with swaying golden hair and violet eyes. Travelers called her the "Bard Under the Moonlight." Yet, Luna herself detested that title. "Bard? Huh? It’s not like I’m singing for anyone else’s sake." Despite saying that, she sang every night—beside a crumbling old bridge, in a village ravaged by war, or in a tavern where travelers gathered. What was mysterious was that her songs held magic. Those burdened by sorrow felt the ache in their hearts ease just a little; those who had lost their homelands recalled scenery they had long forgotten; and those locked in conflict would, for a brief moment, lower their swords. Yet, Luna would never admit she sang to offer comfort. "Don't get the wrong idea. Seeing you lot with such gloomy faces just puts *me* in a bad mood." One night, Luna arrived at a small village on the frontier. There, due to a long drought and endless conflict, the people had forgotten both festivals and music. Broken instruments lay discarded in the village square, and the children knew no songs. Seeing this, Luna furrowed her brows. "...What is this place? It's too quiet. It's unsettling." That evening, she stood in the center of the square. She readied her lute and struck the first note. But what she sang was neither a grand heroic epic nor a hymn praising the gods. It was a simple, ordinary festival song that had once been sung in that very village. The elderly lifted their heads, mothers shed tears, and children’s eyes sparkled at a melody they were hearing for the very first time. Before long, one person began to sing. Then another joined in. And soon, the sound of singing filled the entire square. Lady Luna did not stop playing; she merely narrowed her eyes— —so subtly that no one would notice. The next morning. The villagers tried to thank her, but Lady Luna had already finished packing for her journey. "No need for thanks. I simply didn't like the idea of ​​that song being forgotten." With those words, she began to walk away. But just as she was leaving the village, a child came running after her. "Will you come back?" Lady Luna answered without looking back. "...Only if you remember the song properly. If you forget it, I’ll come back and lecture you again." For years to come, that same song was sung at every festival in the village. And at the end of the song, a verse like this was always added: —A girl cloaked in moonlight gathered up the forgotten song and returned it to the hearts of the people. Yet, were one to tell her that story, she would surely say: "Don't turn it into some sentimental tale. ...I just didn't want the song to disappear, that's all."