spiraltears
In the days when moons ruled the tides of hearts and stars whispered the names of queens, there was once a princess born beneath the silver sky of Bright Moon. Her name was Y/N, the Moon's first daughter, a child whose laughter could stir the blossoms and whose light could chase away the longest night.
But the heavens are jealous of their own miracles. During the war that tore Etheria, the princess vanished-stolen by shadows, her name silenced, her crown buried in mourning. Bright Moon wept, believing their jewel lost forever. Only a single pearl bracelet remained, gleaming like a tear upon the ground.
Years turned like pages. The shadowed armies rose, and among them walked a warrior called Nephele-a girl with eyes like fading dusk, strength like tempered dawn, and a heart caged by memory. None knew she was the lost princess, shaped by the sorceress who had stolen her, taught to wield power instead of grace.
It was said that when She-Ra's sword met the horizon, the light of the lost moon would return. And so it came to pass: in one battle fierce enough to shake the constellations, Nephele's disguise burned away, revealing Y/N-the Moon Reborn, her horns of pearl shining through her hair, her tail trailing a star.
The world held its breath, for the tale was true: the moonlight never dies, it only hides until the heart remembers its name. And those who had loved her-sisters, soldiers, even the golden knight who called her his wife in jest-saw in her the legend of old reborn: a queen who had walked through shadow and returned carrying dawn in her hands.
Thus the bards still sing in Bright Moon's halls:
"The cloud may fall, but the moon will rise again."