In a time before our people's first memory, but long after Azurah's pyre claimed the flesh of the proud lion, Lorkhaj, our great mother wept and sighed—haunted by the fate of her brother's dark heart. As she prowled the hills and valleys of her wide domain, she could not escape the pounding—the faint, but constant drumbeat from across the churning seas. Somewhere in the Great Darkness, the fell rhythm of the Moon Beast quickened and grew stronger.
Knowing that her children of many shapes would fall to the Moon Beast's profanity, she purred across the stars, coaxing the lanterns of Jone and Jode to make way for a sky-guardian. This third moon and shield of the Lattice shone its light down upon Azurah's litter of purest heart and most fervent obedience. She called these cats the Litter of the Hidden Moon, and taught them the lunar byways, and secrets of the merciful blade. From that time on, they loved her as no other Khajiit could love her, and in that love, found sympathy for all cats bent by the beating of the Heart.
Beloved adepts, take these words into your heart and know that we keep Azurah's commandments still. For we are all children of the Hidden Moon.