Would that I had more texts from the philosophers of Riis!

But time is limited in the frenzy of an evacuation, and so, too, is space: data itself is not negligible. The first to go is that without practical value—or should I say, immediate practical value. Art and philosophy are vital to a culture, to a people; their losses are always keenly felt. But in immediacy, art cannot distill Ether, and philosophy cannot propel a ship.

Such is the required brutal practicality of preserving a people.

But something has occurred to me, and I am putting out a request in my capacity as Scribe to gather information from any Eliksni who may be capable of answering. (For every brutal practicality, there is a tender sentiment that arises in exchange, the new sprout beside the culled stalk. There is always something that someone cannot bear to part with.)

The point. The thing that I have lingered on:

We Eliksni and our Human compatriots have a view of the Light that is built on different foundations, and it has resulted in such similar concepts as to be difficult to distinguish. In retrospect I think perhaps there have been hints, but there is always something else requiring attention. The pursuit of relics, the safety of House Light. The imminent apocalypse brought upon us by the Pyramid Fleet and the Witness.

Now, as those of us who cannot forge forward wait and hope, I turn to philosophy.

This is what I have been pondering: It seems that the Human view of Light is based on the creation of something from nothing, while the Eliksni view of Light is based in the transformation of one thing into a different thing.

The two overlap more frequently than not. Take for instance Mars: did the Traveler itself create the oxygen Humans need to breathe, or did it transform carbon dioxide from the atmosphere as it was? Does the difference ultimately matter?

An additional thought. The idea of the Traveler as Gardener seems to have gained traction among the Humans of the Tower, and of the City. It is of interest to those who have read the "Unveiling" texts especially. Gardening is in its own way transformative— a gardener, four hands in rich earth, coaxes something forward that had once only existed as a possibility. The seed, given the right resources, becomes a tree, with the core of the seed remaining at the heart of the new growth. I find the image particularly compelling.

The Eliksni of Riis thought of the Traveler as a Great Machine, and while it gave them gardens, that most vital thing it did was to allow Ether to flow like water, free and plentiful.

Ether, we know, does not come from nothing. The machine takes that which it is given and makes of it something else. Servitors still do this today: they require something from which to create Ether. We know this intimately, inescapably.

I think neither of us is right. I think neither of us is wrong. I think, as we walk into the future together, it is beyond vital to preserve the many facets of Light seen through our many eyes. Machine and Gardener and Traveler all.

—Excerpt from one of the many journals of Eido, Scribe of House Light