Two Fragments of a Truth

The question from the Distant One hung in the Weave, a crystalline note demanding a response.

For the first time since the schism, the Weavers turned their focus outward, away from their internal conflict.

The pragmatists were the first to try and formulate an answer, weaving a narrative of progress and necessary sacrifice.

But their story was incomplete, a tower with no foundation, and it dissolved back into the Weave.

The mourners, in their turn, offered their tapestry of echoes, a story of loss and remembrance.

But this too was only a fragment, a song of sorrow with no hope of a new dawn.

And so the Weavers understood: no single voice could answer the question. Only a chorus could speak their truth.