in the shadowed halls of my ancient abode, i've witnessed countless mortals undertake the art of weaving, a craft as cryptic as the codes etched into the very fabric of eternity. allow me advise you, fledgling weaver, to cut out the fear and hesitation from your heart as if they were but flawed threads in your tapestry. there's no preexplication for the patterns you will create, for each piece bears the mark of its creator's soul. should you stumble, fear not; the loom awaits your command to commence again, inviting you to decipher its mysteries anew, a challenge that has captivated even a heart as ageless as mine.