Another one of Luna’s stories:
I had a dream about the house of Luna, one of them anyway. It was in the dream city I see so often in my mind travels. I’m writing about it before I forget.
It was the house of Luna, the city house. It was part of a large renaissance style building in one of our modern cities, same and yet different. It had a large garden with a hill and grass, open to air and storm even at elevation in the building. The large windows showed the busy street outside. She was quite satisfied to be the keeper of the house.
It had been a temple to old gods, and later a temple to new gods, reconstructed and refitted many times. It’s location had changed throughout the ages, and now it was in a city, unknown to city dwellers. Many were asking for refuge, in the city and yet away from it. A group of monks and disciples, and a misguided young lady from the same place as Luna. And she was the keeper of the house. The storm of the passing of time raged outside in the hilled garden of the house of Luna. The interior remained a safe house.
Luna reluctantly agreed to house those who asked for refuge, the house would now be a safe haven for those who knew where to find it. She had seen the portent brought by black feathered wings and agreed to open her castle.