The City of Woven Streets

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the tale still told on the island.

This is how it goes:

Our Lady of Weaving started with the sky.

She stretched the space with her limbs until the jewels of the Web of Worlds shone through. In their light, under the stars she sighed life into the air, and far below she drew the dark ends of the earth.

Between the sky and earth she made warps of sunlight and rain, tall and taut bones of the world.

Then she began to dream.

From her sleep rose those who walked on four feet, and those who walked on two, and those who did not walk at all. She dreamed oceans and islands and trees. As she dreamed, silk spun from her many fingertips and began to weft its way through the warp binding heaven and earth together. Her dreams wove the thoughts and desires of those who walked under the stars, their gaze and their blindness, for them a will they could follow. And her dreams wove what they began to call a soul.

This is the world she made. This is the world she shelters with her limbs. One day, when she grows weary of those she brought to life, she will pluck a thread and pull, and all will unravel the moment when