The creators, now characters in their own story, looked at each other with a new understanding. They were no longer the weavers of the tapestry; they were the threads themselves, and the loom was the story, and the story was alive.
’Then let us be threads worthy of the weaving,’ Kael said, his voice, once a hammer, now a whisper in the vast and silent loom.
Anya, her heart a garden, smiled. ’And let the tapestry we weave be a beautiful one,’ she said. ’A tapestry of hope, and of love, and of endless possibility.’
And so, the story turned, and the creators, now the created, took their first steps into a new and unknown world, a world of their own making, a world of echoes and of dreams.