However much humans are tied to the ground, it is the heavens that move their hearts. The sun, ever shining down upon this world even if it cannot be seen, fills them with confidence, with passion, with fear. Stars, in general, are full of such emotions for they those sentiments embodied; raging balls of flame that provide life and light unto the universe. I've always found them a bit ostentatious, personally, but I must admit that their lure is undeniable. Without them, we would forever be left in the cold and dark, after all.

Which is not to say that the cold and dark are to be reviled. Life is wont to find its way under the most challenging of conditions, even if life is similarly wont to be lazy. Harsh is the beauty of coldness, stark in its appearance and touch, but the heart is always covetous of what it cannot have, what is out of reach, what hurts to touch. Such is human, even divine, nature. The dark is daunting in what it hides, but that it hides anything means it is worth exploring, worth respecting. The void between stars, were I to be asked, harbors what we seek out most: mystery. Either to be imagined, to be explored, to be feared, or simply to be appreciated, mysteries will always call to us precisely because they are out of our hands.

And what is more mystifying that the great silver light that hangs above us, our radiant moon? The sun may hold an important part within the hearts of living things, but it the moon which holds their minds. A harbinger of momentous events, some have called it, and so it has been. A softer spirit to soothe the flames of day, others have desired, and so it was. The signal for clandestine activities free from the searching light of day is what many have utilized it for, and in many ways it continues to be. Whatever you might call the moon, it remains a symbol of the divine, either the cold and distant kind who cover up the unmentionable acts of night, or the aloof but caring matrons who seek to relieve the hurts in the world. Perhaps, however, the truth lies not in between, but above such distinctions. For just as many interpretations of our world are out there, each distinctly unique according to each sentient creature who views it, there are as many beings who embody such concepts. Who am I to comment on such things? One of those selfsame goddesses of the moon.

Not that I ever desired to be one. I may have been born a spirit of this world, an aspect of the moon, but that is all I ever wanted to be. It is the humans surrounding me who propped me onto such a pedestal. And it is one of those very humans who, though centuries later, who has prompted my long ramble here. Troublesome and inquisitive, this Evelynn Vess from some land far beyond Japan's borders has forced me to ponder what we perceive to be divine. Day after day, she ascends the 300 steps leading up to my home, known as Tsukichiyo Shrine to the locals, to badger me with endless questions about my view of the world, the powers I wield over it, the personalities of other spirits I have contact with, and other such sundry topics.

Or, well, I say badger, but I misspeak. It was certainly annoying at first, especially considering that however much I hate my position as a goddess, this Evelynn completely disregards my station. This is not the first time, to be certain; young Hanareda is much the same in ignoring my divine status. Yet my newfound shrine maiden at least undertakes her duties seriously, regardless of her view of my divinity; Evelynn merely sees me as a specimen. Such were my initial thoughts.

Now, though? Both humans, Hana and Evelynn, are welcome changes to a life that felt out of my control for the longest time. Their sheer audacity in speaking so frankly to a goddess reminds me of my simpler, humbler origins. Though my time with them has been but brief in the millenia I can expect to live, perhaps their presences have marked a shift for me. Japan, with all its advancements toward the future, surely has little need for gods or goddesses that remain rooted in their pasts; the humans of today wish for frankness, open hearts, sincerity. Though I am unlikely to ever say as much to them, as my timid nature sadly hasn't changed despite my longevity, these two humans have become precious to me, dear parts of my life. Oh, even the idea brings a flush to my face.

Lounging atop the upper-most torii gate of my personal shrine, I shift my gaze across the heavens. The full moon hangs right overheard, brought to this sacred place by my presence, its borrowed light shed down on our world from its lofty throne. My every nerve is alight with its glow, divine power coursing down my limbs. Of course, I have very little to do with it nowadays; the vast majority of my focus is spent on maintaining the grounds of Tsukichiyo Shrine and the hill it rests upon. But, despite my protests, the power of faith is still as intoxicating as humans imagine, and even without an idea of how to utilize it, having it thrum through my body is never an unwelcome sensation.

So caught up in my personal delight, the sounds coming up the path escape my notice until the individual is nigh-on directly beneath me. Faintly, I begin to hear the sound of sniffles; most odd, considering that even in the middle of the night, it stills remains the heart of summer, so chills should not be a problem. But sickness is ever an issue for humans, so perhaps my divine providence shall come in handy this night.

But such thoughts wither away immediately when I look down. There stands the tall figure of Evelynn Vess, that human who has worked so hard to worm their way into my heart, her athletic form barely winded by the many steps that lead to my shrine. Clearly though, the problem at hand is to be found in their own heart; tears are streaming down her cheeks, reflecting the silver light of my moon, and a hand clutched tightly to their chest indicates some form of injury.

Oh, humans, why must such struggles fall upon such a clear night? Yet, the way in which my body has already slipped down to the ground before the complaint has even finished in my head could be called a marker of my progress as a respectable goddess; whether or not a respectable goddess should ever have such a thought is a topic for another time.

Willing myself to be seen, an easy enough feat for a goddess of my station, I find myself looking up into the tear-streaked face of one of my few friends, trying to register what emotion is shining through most. A goddess of wisdom I may be, the human mind is far too complicated for a being such as myself to ever truly master. Or is this one of those situations that words are most effective?

Clearing my throat as Evelynn stops, surprised to see me appear out of nowhere - even if this is a feat she has witnessed before - I use my most stately voice to ask, "Wherefore do you approach my sacred temple so late at night, young human?"