Remember the North

The Dreamer shuffles from one branch to another, sliding deeper into the forests of Night, following Celeste as she takes her sister's mist-enchanted moonlight threads, and retreats to her domain...
Celeste placed the threads in a clockwork circle, on a stump at the edge of a rising cliff, which looked up into a rainbow of auroras. She knew each of their names, and could summon them individually.
Tonight she needed them all.
A greater working was in place among her sisters, and thus there was little time for patience. But the stars were fickle -- none more than the Northern lights. Hands spread above the threads, Celeste turned her head upward, and spoke to the sky.
Celeste: "Lights of the North, I remember thee. When Mother pulled down the night sky, and looked to Father to fill it. I remember your coming, and their wonder, and the union of them, which bore me. I remember the years that followed, and the storms that shook us, and the shift of the worlds. But there was always a Northern sky to fill, and so we filled it with you..."
Celeste gathered energy at the end of her fingertips, which trickled down onto the threads, and linked them in a perfect circle of light. The youngest lights came first, without true call, eager to prove themselves to the others. Then slowly, some of the lights from the previous Material Plane... The rest would require further convincing.
Celeste: "I remember Inklar, and our lights in the Void. I remember the Spine of the World, and the Great Glacier, and the High Ice -- both new and old. I remember the Name of the Nameless Spires, and the promise we made as they fell to ruin... I would call on that promise now -- aid me!"
At each memory, more lights joined their power with hers, and the circle became blinding. But there were still a few who did not heed her call, the oldest and greatest of the Northern lights.
Celeste: "In this endeavor there can be no laggards! We raise our hand to our oldest enemy, that violent Day, who smothered us with her brightness, and corrupted the young Alistair. Mine aunt requires strength, great lights, as her sister -- my own Mother -- suffers no weakness. They will bring all to beck and call, and so our call must be greater! Come Abraxas, you clever incandescence! Come Pulura, as lost as you now are! Come one and all -- aid me!"
Celeste bowed her head in concentration as the lights continued to filter in, the strain increasing as the largest joined her. Sweat dripped from her skin, chest heaving for breath, until only one great light remained... Poorest Pulura, lost to them among the eldritch stars. Celeste released a sob, and reached for her old friend.
Celeste: "Please. I know you can hear me. There is still hope."
In response, there was only silence...
But one can fit a great many things in silence.
Unable to think, between two heaving breaths, Celeste felt the last light join her working, and there was an explosion of auroras. They streamed around the circle, diving in and out of each thread, leaving a bit of their light behind. Celeste did the same, each pass further exhausting her, until at last the ritual was complete. The lights vanished in a thunderclap, and Celeste collapsed, a smile plastered on her weeping face.
The threads took on a rainbow hue, and the vision fades...