There is a place somewhere, a place we have not, nor will ever see in person. A distant star, perhaps. The ground is smooth glass, the ocean made of grains of crystal white sand, the sky clear and open and white. There is no night in this place, no day either. There is only time in its passing.
Only three women inhabit this island of a star. They are sisters, daughters of the Theo. He made them to keep record of the universe, and they did, one life time, one thread at a time.
The three women sit together close, before them rests a large golden loom. It remains empty for now. In the distance, rolls of handmade textiles rest, their lengths could go on forever, their stories even longer.
The first woman stood, holding her hands out in prayer, between her palms grew a lump of fluff, wool from a distant land, the world the great Theo loved. The lump appeared to grow, and colored itself, vibrant and changing and strong. The woman said another prayer of thanksgiving and, to her surprise, in her palms blossomed another fiber. This was a smooth hank of silk, soft and delicate, pastels shimmering.
"It appears Theo wants these two together, connected lifelines. Shall we begin, sisters?" The first, Thallo asked looking towards the others. She had a youthful face, golden hair falling in ringlets down her back. Green robes clothed this woman, dainty hands holding the fibers forward. She had the ability to multiply the lot, and depending on her sisters, she created the perfect amount for each tapestry.
"Of course, sister. What else have we to do?" replied the second sister, Auxesia. She drew forward her distaff, and prepared it for the fibers. Auxesia was older than Thallo, her duty to measure the length of the thread. She was clothed in aqua tunics. Her face was young, but wizened, her hands calloused from work. She wore her auburn hair pinned close, so as not to get it into the spindle. "These fibers do not appear to go together, but I believe that in this tapestry, their lives will complement each other beautifully. Opposites always have a rocky start, but balance evenly," she told her intent sisters.
Thallo began smoothing the fibers given to her, praying for more to be gathered for them. "Whose turn is it to begin the grand design?" she asked.
"It is Carpo's turn" said Auxesia, motioning to the third member. Carpo stood, her dark robes pooling at her feet. They rippled as she approached the loom. Carpo was the oldest of the three. Her eyes were tired, her fingers calloused and rough. Her long dark hair hung loose, falling to her hips. She took some of the new thread and began weaving it into the loom. She began to recount a story known only to the fibers in her hands.