Once, in a quiet mountain village, there lived a young weaver named Lila who could hear the threads of the world humming beneath the earth. Each dawn she would pull a strand from the river’s silver silk, a line of fire from the sunrise, and a whisper of wind from the valley’s breezes, weaving them into a tapestry that reflected the seasons in perfect rhythm. The villagers believed that the pattern she made was more than cloth; it was a map of destiny, where every knot tightened a promise and every color told a story yet to be lived. One winter night, the tapestry glowed, and the threads began to shift, showing Lila a future she had never seen—her own hands, bound by love and loss, reaching to stitch the final seam. And as she wove, she realized that destiny was not just a pattern to be followed but a dance she could help compose.