A long, long time ago, when people knew no flood and shared laughs more often than they shed tears, deep in the Gáláwán Mountains there was said to be a chasm where mist would meander down in the form of a lazy stream. It is said that once every twenty years mountain nettles would grow by their hazy banks, ones which produced the finest of threads, surpassing even the rarest of the Cymrian lotus silks. People called it sìoda draoidheil — the enchanted silk.

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It happened that in the village of Gáláwá a family was blessed with four girls. Four — a holy number symbolising perfection and safety in the physical realm. Time meandered, and winters queued in memory until on their eighth birthday the girls were each given a proper name: Latha, Ràithean, Aotrom and Uair. When their twelfth winter passed, and spring was covering hills with lush green, their mother took them on a walk to a house in a dark forest. Inside they were shown many doors, which they could open at any time and a single door with a golden lock under a condition they should never attempt to open it. For, it was said that the door was made to hold a spell black as day and light as night. And it was given many names, but most referred to them as Mallachd — a curse awaiting to possess the pure and spill darkness upon their hearts. The days passed by and the Sisters were curious as to what was behind the door.

One night when the moon's eye was entirely closed they snuck into their mother's chamber and stole the key. Then they opened the lock and prepared to open the door, but were too afraid and wanted to close the lock back to its original position. In vain. Afraid their mother would punish them they sought refuge under the ancient willow that grew by the river Ùr. Then, when they debated on what to do next a figure clad in white appeared, silently coming out from the willow's shadow. Their robes were gleaming in the faint starlight almost like a fish scale and their eyes... Their eyes were the embodiment of concern so deep, it made the Sisters feel like drowning in their own tears. The stranger introduced themselves as Cladhalm and asked what the problem that troubled them so deeply was. The Sisters related the story and how they broke the promise given to their mother and how they wanted to undo the wrong. Cladhalm pondered for a while and told them that the only thing that could be done right now was to bind the spell but that the task would require strength and courage. The Sisters all agreed they would go to the depths of the mountain if need be. Cladhalm closed their eyes and explained that the deed could only be done using a thread of a mountain nettle that grew in the silver pond. The pond was called the Spring of Mist, one that could be found in the deepest of chasms in the Gáláwan Mountains, in which only the coldest mists meander.

At the end of the misty river, they would find a spring and there, they will have four simple tasks to perform: to remove that which wraps and binds, to bask in that which lies close to the light, to touch that which gleams with truth, to look within that which lies at the bottom. If they do that, the nettles will be theirs.

The task filled the Sisters' hearts with fright, but the future was already decided. They felt it was better to leave on one's own accord to undo the wrong than to be left abandoned for the deed itself. The sisters remember the legend of the enchanted nettle and decide to try their luck for any chance to escape the misfortune that was better than mother's wrath.

The next day, when the sun was at its highest, the Sisters set out into the deepest of the chasms they knew about. The wind was howling restlessly, and soon their spirits dropped low enough to stop the journey for the day. As they passed the highest peak, the chasm became visible. It ran deep down into the heart of the earth, filled with the freezing cold river of silver mist.

Down and down they go into the abyss, and eventually they reach a pond of silver mist, from which grow four sleek straws of nettle.

The sisters stood by the pond tucking to each other to stay warm but knowing that the trials needed to be passed for the nettles to be collected.

Then forth came Latha who boldly reached for the closest nettle. But the pond bore a look of a wicked thing, its surface covered in thorny vines and the very thought of removing them felt disarming. So Latha stretched her arm, reaching for the nettle, trying to avoid the vines. But as she grabbed the stalk, the stretched arm was caught in one of the thorns hurting her hand badly, so she escaped the site in haste.

Then forth came Ràithean who boldly reached for the second nettle. But the pond bore a look of a wicked thing, its surface covered in seething shadow and the very thought of brushing against it felt excruciating. So Ràithean stretched her arm, reaching for the nettle, trying to avoid the shadows. But as she grabbed the stalk, the stretched arm was caught in the seething, making her heart unquiet, so she escaped the site in haste.

Then forth came Aotrom who boldly reached for the third nettle. But the pond bore a look of a wicked thing, its surface glistening with slime and the very thought of touching it felt rejecting. So Aotrom stretched her arm, reaching for the nettle, trying to avoid the slime. But as she grabbed the stalk, she lost her footing, and her hand touched the shining liquid showing her a twisted image of herself, so she too escaped the site in haste.

Then forth came Uair who boldly reached for the third nettle. But the pond bore a look of a wicked thing, its surface shattered into thousands upon thousands of fragments, and the very thought of looking into it felt mortifying. So Uair stretched her arm, reaching for the nettle but failing to so much as skim a single leaf. As she took a step forward, she reflected upon the shattered image of herself and feared that the memory of it will haunt her forever. But as she grabbed the stalk, the cracks separating the shards dissolved into the air. And before her was a smooth golden surface, reflecting perfectly every form, echoing every single whisper. And she knew it was one of the finest relics she could hope to witness.

Having the nettles, the sisters prepared four threads, each as thin as the spider's silk and so light, the wind took their ends as high as the tree tops. They headed back, hoping to take the same route but the trail was gone in the everchanging mists and nowhere to be found. While looking for a way down, they stumbled upon a similar path — steeper and narrower than the previous one, but well maintained and much shorter. They all agreed to take it and before the last light was almost by the ancient willow.

By the ancient trunk stood Cladhalm, waiting to greet the sisters returning victorious from their hunt and clapping with admiration. "But now — he whispered sadly, almost drowning them with grief — you must perform the undoable task and should you fail, the price will be dear. For the curse is the change itself and will respond to your will only, when is fully bound. Should you succeed, however, the greatest of riches will become yours. Be brave and brace your hearts!"

And so the sisters came forth to ensnare the curse. Out of the nettle straw, they prepared the thinnest and strongest of silks imagined — light as a wind and strong as a rock.

Then forth came Latha and opened the door. And the curse behind it donned the form of everyday hardships. Latha took the thread firmly and bound the curse from Dusk to Dawn, as there was nothing as changing throughout the land as night and day themselves. And the Curse could no longer depend on the course of the Sun, but fleeing took the shape of the changing seasons and Latha's sight with it. And the girl was forced to be led only by the others.

Then forth came Ràithean and opened the door. And the curse behind it donned the form of the extremes of the seasons. Ràithean took the thread firmly and bound the curse from Summer to Spring, as there was nothing as changing throughout the land as warmth falling through cold to rebirth. And the Curse could no longer depend on the rise and fall, but fleeing took the shape of the brightest light and the deepest shadow and took Ràithean's warmth with it. And the girl was forced to discomforting cold that could not be thawed by the others.

Then forth came Aotrom and opened the door. And the curse behind it donned the form of the tallest mountain. Aotrom grasped the thread firmly and bound the curse from Heaven to Earth, as there was nothing as changing throughout the world as the lightness of the skies and the heavy firmness of the mountain roots. And the Curse could no longer depend on the shadow and light, but fleeing took the shape of the decided past and the undecided future and taking Aotrom's emotions with it. And the girl was forced to perceive the world as bland and uninteresting, relying on the interests of the others.

Then forth came Uair and opened the door. And the curse behind it donned the form of the unseen time. Uair grasped the thread firmly and bound the curse from the known past, through the perceived present and up to the unknown future. And only then, the Curse was lifted, for it could inhabit neither the land, nor depths, nor skies, nor could it be clad in any form of change.

And when the Curse was broken, the door stood wide open, all the unknown cleared with the dropping misty veil. The four entered it and saw a single chamber.

Its walls were made of thick, dark wood inlaid with elaborate symbols that opened eyes to all the wonders of the world. As Latha turned her eyes their way the darkness was taken away from her, replacing it with a clear view of things that escaped her understanding.

Its floors were tiled with a polished black stone engraved with intricate patterns and warm to their touch. As Ràithean stepped in, the stone melted away the cold in her heart, replacing it with a firm and loving warmth.

Its highest beams were made of carefully cut crystal with an entangled labyrinth of grooves big and small that split the light into a myriad colours. As Aotrom stepped in, the colours flooded her soul, replacing apathy with empathy and passion of her own.

But as Uair stepped into the chamber, the gold from the pond that marked her foot filled the complex grooves of the floor tiles and outlined the edges of the carvings on the wood. And they no longer remained hidden at first sight and were easily distinguishable as night and day. As Uair laid her eyes upon the wonder, she perceived the patterns as they were — not static but constantly changing and evolving. And it gave her mind an edge that cut the inapprehensible into perceivable and complex.

The four sisters settled in the chamber, and over time it grew with their understanding of the world. And the door, they remained open, for the lock was nowhere to be found. And they never met the silver stranger again, and for all the knowledge gained have lost the recollection of their name and form. And perhaps it was for the best, for some things are meant to remain hidden.