Chapter Text
Fate weaves like waves. Oftentimes, it has a funny way of letting itself be known. Sometimes, it's a chance meeting, a misstep, a turn of phrase; something innocuous that directly influences fate.
It's the small things, most often. But sometimes, it's not small. Sometimes, it's a death where there shouldn't be; it's a war, a drowning, a murder-
Fate has a funny way of weaving, that is true.
Somewhere in the Celestial plane, a woman sits comfortably, massive looms of yarn spun around her, frozen in time. She is an old woman, wrinkles etched into her face like line work, like grooves that tell stories, and her smile is warm; she is a child, full of potential and beaming with light, youthful and waiting to grow; she is a young woman, hair down to the floor, and her eyes sparkle like diamonds.
Her name is Istus, and she's knitting an epoch, right now, though she can't yet tell.
Her fingers weave and move carefully, movements practiced and skilled, until- she takes pause, corners of her eyes crinkling in surprise.
"Huh. This is going to be interesting."
With that, she continues to knit, but the lines of thread are darker, less bright. What a story this scarf has to tell.