Chandea, Year of Severus, 21st, I.R., the 79th day of Spring, Oyue's Moon
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It has been a while since Oyue slept in her moon amongst the clouds. She missed the feeling of the cold breeze passing by her abode. In fact, she forgot what the cold, fresh breeze felt like. No matter how many times she tried to recreate that breeze underground, she could never replicate it perfectly for some reason. It most likely be the nostalgia of the natural flowing air that made her felt that her creation was lacking, and she accepted that fact.
She slept on her long chair in the middle of her garden. Without peeping into the human world or talking to Adlaw-on. The time she spent there was boring, but nonetheless, peaceful. Suddenly she heard a familiar voice.
"Braet Laet, Oyue." She heard the whisper as if it was a shout, calling her out from the heavens.