It was many months before he got out of this hell, before he could look at this world again without pain, hear sounds, feel smells, appreciate touches, come to terms with life and himself. It was necessary to be reborn again, just to continue to live. And he felt that new things were born in him, growing, demanding manifestation, insistent and imperious, but he didn't yet know what it was. It was a kind of unspeakable longing that beckoned him somewhere, especially it was persistent at night. Moonlight streamed in through the window, making strange patterns on the floor. The tart smell of night lilies wafted through the window. It was impossible to sleep that night. He got out of bed, put on a light silk gray ape and went out into the garden. It was as bright as day. He walked barefoot on the grass. The soft untrimmed grass tickled his feet. Then he went out into the street and went toward the white disk of the moon. He felt that this was a special magical night, something special was going to happen. At last he came to a desolate spot, where a hill rose in the moonlight. As he climbed up, the light cloth slipped from his shoulders and fell to the grass. The moonlight shrouded his snow-white body in a silvery glow. A light night breeze caressed his delicate skin, which didn't know the sunlight. He paused for a moment, listening to the music in his head. It was completely new music unlike anything he had ever heard before. It wasn't the voices of the dead, it was the sound of moonlight. He felt that he had to express it somehow. He began to move slowly in time to the music. At first the movements were timid and awkward, but then more confident and relaxed. He closed his eyes and completely surrendered to the vibration coming from within, trying to reproduce it in his move. Finally his body completely merged with the rhythm of the music into one. It was not a dance in the ordinary sense of the word, it was an inner need to express feelings through action, and it was an act of worship of the moon goddess, a manifestation of the goddess in physical form. This was the birth of a new form of beauty. And this was She, eternally young, pure and wise, furious and gentle, attractive and unapproachable, erotic and virginal, beautiful Anna-Varney Cantodea.