Before the first kingdom rose from dust, before humans carved roads through forests or named the oceans, the sky was empty.
No stars.
No moon.
No constellations.
Only a vast ocean of darkness stretching endlessly above the newborn world.
Then came the Seven Sisters.
They were not gods, though mortals would later worship them as such.
They were older than prayer itself — beings born from the universe’s first breath.
Together they stood before the Loom of Night, an enormous frame woven from pure cosmic light, suspended in the void between worlds.
Maya, the eldest, guided the others with calm authority.
Selene moved with quiet grace, her fingers weaving silver threads faster than falling rain.
Kira burned with fierce temper and wild courage, while Sierra laughed in the face of storms.
Nissa saw visions hidden beyond time itself.
Taylor carried wit sharp enough to wound.
And the youngest, Lanny, watched everything with restless eyes full of questions nobody wanted to answer.
Together they stitched the heavens into existence.
Every constellation carried meaning.
The Hunter gave courage to warriors.
The Ship guided lost sailors home.
The Twins reminded humanity they were never meant to survive alone.
Star by star, the sisters created balance for the world below.
For ages, their work held the universe together.
Humans looked upward in wonder.
They built myths around the constellations.
They whispered stories beside fires and prayed beneath starlight.
The sisters were remembered, even if their true names were forgotten.
But centuries passed.
Cities grew brighter than the sky itself.
People stopped looking up.
And slowly, the threads began to weaken.
At first, the damage was small — a fading star here, a trembling constellation there.
But beyond the darkness, something ancient had been waiting for this exact moment.
Something hungry.
It lived beneath the stars, imprisoned behind the woven fabric of the heavens.
The Loom was never just decoration.
It was a cage.
And one night, the darkness whispered to Lanny.
“You see the truth,” it hissed from the void.
“They have forgotten you.
Why keep weaving a sky for a world that no longer cares?”
Lanny tried to ignore it, but doubt spread through her heart like poison.
Her hands shook at the loom.
Threads tangled.
Stars flickered.
Then the sky tore open.
A crack split across the heavens, and from within emerged something monstrous — a shape of claws, smoke, and countless glowing eyes.
The sisters fought desperately, weaving rivers of light across the wound until the tear finally sealed shut.
But the damage was done.
Entire constellations vanished.
Below, humans watched the broken heavens in terror.
Oceans churned violently.
Shadows moved beneath the seas.
Creatures older than creation itself began slipping through the cracks between stars.
The sisters battled endlessly to hold the sky together.
Selene sang binding songs until her voice bled raw.
Kira hurled burning stars like spears.
Maya anchored the Loom while Nissa screamed warnings of futures soaked in darkness.
And still, the whispers kept reaching Lanny.
“You could end this,” the voice promised softly.
“No more endless weaving.
No more forgotten sacrifices.
Tear the Loom apart… and become eternal.”
One night, after another terrible battle, Lanny floated alone at the edge of the broken heavens, staring down at the world below.
Cities blazed brighter than constellations now.
Humanity barely noticed the dying stars above them.
For the first time, she wondered if the darkness was right.
Behind her, the Loom trembled violently.
Another thread snapped.
And somewhere beneath the heavens… something enormous opened its eyes.
