Lunar Light's earliest memories were of warmth. The warmth of her mother humming softly while preparing breakfast, the aroma of freshly baked carrot bread filling their small countryside kitchen. The gentle sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden patterns across the floor. The soft rustle of leaves outside, the distant hum of insects in the summer air, these were the moments Lunar carried in her heart.
"Careful with your steps, Lunar," Mother would say, crouching beside her as she practiced along the small dirt track behind their home. "The track isn't just about speed. It's rhythm. Feel it, don't force it."
"But I want to go faster!" Lunar protested, small legs wobbling as she forcefully tried to match her mother's stride. Her voice was bright and insistent, brimming with the boundless energy only a filly could summon.
"You will," mother said, smiling, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Lunar's forehead. "But only if you learn to listen. The wind, the ground, your own heartbeat… they tell you when to push, when to wait."
Lunar tilted her head, frowning slightly as she considered this. "The wind… and my heartbeat?" she asked.
Mother nodded, crouching lower so her eyes were level with hers. "Yes. Running isn't just moving your legs. It's feeling the world move with you. Every step has a rhythm, every breath has a song. Listen, and you'll know when to soar."
Lunar looked down at her feet, then at the open fields stretching out before them. A tiny breeze brushed her cheek, light as a whisper. She lifted her head, small ears twitching, as though testing the idea.
"So… the world runs with me? Together?" she asked quietly.
Her mother chuckled, brushing her thumb along Lunar's cheek. "Exactly. And once you feel that, you'll never run alone."
Something in Lunar softened. Her shoulders relaxed, her gaze steadied. She didn't fully understand, not yet, but she felt the truth of it settle somewhere deep inside her.
"Momma, I want to learn that," Lunar said at last, voice small but certain.
Her mother smiled, gentle and proud. "And you will. In your own time."
Lunar reached for her mother's hand, warm and steady. "Then… can we just run together now?"
"Always,"her mother said.
And together, they stepped back onto the field, two shadows stretching long in the morning light, the wind singing softly as if to welcome them.
Lunar then would giggle, running freely in the morning sun, feeling her silver streaks catch the rays, the dewy grass brushing her legs. She kept on trying to mimic the fluid, practiced motion her mother made look so effortless, arms swinging just so, feet landing lightly on the earth, akin to gliding through the track. "Look at me, Momma! I'll be the fastest uma musume ever! Even faster than you!"
Her mother hummed softly, a sound that rippled through the morning air like a gentle wind chime. She reached down and ruffled Lunar's hair, the grey strands soft beneath her fingers. "That's my girl. But remember, sweetheart, racing is something to be enjoyed. Don't let it become a burden. Even if you stumble, I'll always be proud of you."
Sometimes, after practice, they would sit beneath the old oak tree at the edge of the track, letting the sun warm their backs while the breeze danced through the leaves above. Her mother would take out a small sketchbook and a pencil, doodling tiny figures of Lunar mid-stride—her little legs exaggerated in motion, her grey hair streaming behind her like a comet's tail.
Lunar would lean over her mother's shoulder, practically climbing into her lap to get a better look.
"Hey, that looks like me!" she'd say, voice bubbling with excitement.
"It is you," her mother replied with a soft laugh. "Well… a very dramatic version of you. See? Look at these tiny legs. They're doing their best."
Lunar squinted. "Hmm... they're super duper fast tiny legs."
"Oh, incredibly fast," her mother agreed solemnly, tapping the page. "Lightning legs. Too powerful to draw on any normal paper."
That made Lunar giggle so hard her shoulders shook. She would then pick up her own stubby pencil and began scratching at a blank corner of the page, tongue peeking out in concentration. Her lines wobbled. Her proportions made no sense. Her drawing looked more like a some kind of potato figure than a runner.
But she held it up proudly anyway. "Look! It's you!"
Her mother pretended to gasp. "Me? Truly?"
"Yes," Lunar insisted, nodding hard. "See? The hair goes like this—" She made a swooping gesture that sent her own bangs flaring out. "Because you're super duper fast too!"
Her mother smiled, brushing a tiny smudge of dirt from Lunar's cheek. "Not bad at all. You've got the spirit, that's what matters. Speed can be trained, skills can be honed, but your heart… that's yours alone. Never forget it, Lunar."
Lunar puffed her chest out with pride, clutching her lopsided drawing to her chest as though it were worth more than gold. "Then my heart will make me super fast."
"Hmm." Her mother tapped a gentle finger against Lunar's forehead. "Rather than fast… I hope your heart will make you free."
Lunar blinked. "Free like… like a bird?"
"Free like yourself," her mother corrected softly. "Running because it makes you happy. Because the world feels big and bright. Because you want to fly, even with your feet on the earth."
Lunar thought about that for a moment, her expression scrunching up in the serious way only a child can manage.
"…Can I be both?" she finally asked. "Fast and free?"
Her mother laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to her brow. "If anyone can, Lunar… it's you."
And Lunar leaned against the kiss, warm and content beneath the rustling oak, believing every word that her mother said. Because it's mother, and mother never lies.
Then there were afternoons spent chasing butterflies through the sunlit fields, the horizon glowing gold as the day slowly melted into evening. Lunar would dart after the fluttering wings, laughing breathlessly.
"Wait for me, Lunaaaaar!~~" her mother would call dramatically, purposefully slowing her pace.
"You're too slow, Momma!" Lunar shouted back, legs pumping as fast as they could go.
Sometimes mother would feign a stumble, tripping over nothing at all—and fall to her knees with an exaggerated gasp.
"Oh no! I'm defeated!" she'd cry, collapsing onto the grass.
Lunar would skid to a stop, triumphant, hands on her hips. "See? I told you! Lightning legs!"
"Clearly," her mother groaned, shielding her eyes with the back of her hand, "I am no match for such a fearsome runner."
Lunar giggled and poked her mother's cheek. "Come on momma get up! I wanna race again!"
Her mother would spring to her feet suddenly, scooping Lunar into her arms and spinning her around. "Then we go together!"
"Mama—! Too fast!" Lunar squealed, though she was laughing too hard to be considered a protest.
"Lightning arms must match lightning legs!" her mother declared, twirling them both until Lunar's giggles dissolved into hiccups.
They would collapse onto the soft grass together, breathless, staring up at the drifting clouds, catching their breath.
"Look momma," Lunar whispered once, pointing at a cloud shaped vaguely like a running mare. "That one's running."
"Just like you," her mother murmured, brushing a gentle hand through Lunar's hair.
Lunar grinned, rolling onto her side, embracing her mother as the breeze brushed warm across her cheek, along with her mother's warmth close by.
In contrast, evenings existed for quiet moments, sitting by the window, nibbling carrot snacks, watching the first stars emerge.
Her mother would tell her stories of legendary Uma Musume. Names like drifting constellations, runners who transcended oceans, who shattered records, who carried entire generations on their backs. Lunar would listen wide-eyed as mother spoke of their courage and their victories, her voice weaving a tapestry of ancient triumphs.
But there was always one name her mother returned to. One she spoke with a softness that felt almost reverent.
Eclipse
"Eclipse wasn't just fast, Lunar. She was impossible."
Born under a strange sky where the sun dimmed for only a moment– a rare solar eclipse, she came into the world with midnight-black hair streaked by a single band of pale gold. The village elders whispered that she had inherited both the calm of the moon and the fiery spirit of the sun.
From the moment she could stand, she ran.
Not in the playful, stumbling way foals usually did.
She ran like she was chasing something only she could see.
"Others believed she chased the sky she was born under. But the truth?" She tapped Lunar's nose gently. "Eclipse didn't chase anything. She simply ran."
Lunar's ears perked, curiosity blooming. "So… was she faster than everyone?"
Her mother chuckled. "She was. But that wasn't what made her special."
She shifted so Lunar could curl against her side, one arm wrapped around the small silver-haired filly. A few stray strands slipped across Lunar's cheek, and Mother tucked them behind her ear.
"Eclipse ran with her heart. She always did. She gave her all, every breath, every step, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. That's what made her truly legendary."
But the race that carved her name into folklore was the one they called The Sundering Stakes.
A brutal course. Twenty eight uma musumes running over 6400 meters of rough earth, steep hills, and scorching heat. A race not many expect to be completed, much less won by a slight, moonlit girl with quiet, golden eyes.
"Halfway through," Lunar's mother would say, her voice lowering as if the moment itself demanded respect, "the sun shifted. A sudden blaze of heat fell across the valley. Many slowed. Some stumbled."
But not Eclipse.
She tilted her head upward, letting the harsh sunlight wash over her. And something strange happened, something no one forgot.
Her golden streak began to glow.Faint, soft, but unmistakable—like a sliver of sunlight trapped in her hair. Then she ran.
Faster than the others.
Faster than the heat.
Faster than her own shadow.
They said she moved so quickly that, for a breathless moment, the sun itself seemed to hesitate—held still by the sheer force of her will.
"She didn't beat the other runners," Lunar's mother would say with a smile. "She beat the sun that day."
Eclipse finished the Sundering Stakes alone, far ahead of the pack. Not because she needed glory… but because she loved the feeling of the world rushing past her.
When she retired, she continued to run at dawn, leaving long streaks of gold and black trailing behind her on the empty fields. And each time the world witnessed an eclipse, sun and moon crossing paths— people whispered,
"Eclipse is running again."
Lunar hugged her mother's arm, captivated by the image forming in her mind, a black clad girl with streaks of golden light in her hair, racing across the horizon with the sun at her back, unable to keep up.
"She sounds so cool…" Lunar whispered.
"She was," her mother said softly. "And Lunar… if you ever run like her, not for victory, not for praise, but because your soul sings it, then no matter what happens, you'll already be one of the legends."
Lunar didn't fully understand at the time.
But she felt the warmth in her mother's voice.
And Eclipse— that mysterious, radiant figure who who ran in the space between sun and moon, became the first legend she ever dreamed of following.