"It is a shame in some ways that I will only allow you to imagine the systems and ideas they have developed. As I have mentioned before, their opinions on justice and how it should be carried out are particularly fascinating even from a neutral perspective, but the spread of that information is dangerous."
"You seem to place an extreme emphasis on the danger of 'knowledge', my Lady, something I find to be perplexing given the purpose of my station." While Grandmother Ashes would never show it on her face, she was actually quite hurt about this. She gathered and made use of knowledge to prevent conflict and increase safety, but the only person she admired was telling her that it was dangerous?
"Knowledge isn't inherently a danger, something I know you are very familiar with. Knowledge is by nature somewhat neutral, what you get out of it largely depends on intent given you know everything attached to what you are applying. The issue with the knowledge the Terrans possess is that it is complex to the point where your understanding will be incomplete without being under their tutelage for an extended period of time."
"Are they truly that complicated?"
"Their philosophical theories and practices? Hopelessly so, to the point I feel it entirely possible they do not fully understand what they themselves have created."
"A case of the creator being unfamiliar with the tool, I see. It would be unwise to learn how something works from an amateur."
"An apt analogy. Many wars bloodier than those we frequently hear of were fought over such incomplete tools, violent debates on how best to complete them. While I trust you would never take such violent or uncalculated actions, there still exists the possibility of you acting on knowledge gleaned from their own actions and making a mistake, not fully understanding the repercussions as you would have no way of understanding."
"Then how did they perfect them?"
"Failure."
"Failure?"
"Indeed, failure. They found out what succeeded by observing and recording what didn't. They referred to this process as trial and error." The Arboreal Maiden was extremely tempted to end the conversation there, but she was enjoying this. In her desire to cultivate a positive relationship and interesting conversation with a more lax subordinate, she was willing to risk future troubles.
Once that pair, trio rather, was let loose on the universe chaos would definitely ensue. The Arboreal Maiden wouldn't mind an extra issue or two if it helped her keep her wits in the present.
"Would I be correct in assuming that 'Trial and Error' implies that failure is the norm?"
"For most of their history, yes. They would tweak minor elements in their experiments in order to see what worked best, if it worked at all. They weren't so foolish to go into such testing completely blind if they could help it, creating models and trying to predict the experiment's behavior beforehand, but there were some fields they were forced to step into blindly. Through this they learned how to work with forces invisible to their eyes, Split being among them."
The Librarian sank into thought as they patrolled the halls chock filled with parchment, occasionally mumbling something under her breath. The Arboreal Maiden, particularly adept at hearing owing to her time spent blindfolded, could piece together that she was working something out in her head.
"How would it be possible to utilize something which they could not see? Surely that means they had no way of touching it either, doesn't it?" Despite her warnings, the Librarian was still digging deeper. Her curiosity was admirable for someone of her status, a position steeped in keeping things the way they had always been. So long as she didn't reveal anything specific enough to warrant investigation, the Arboreal Maiden was confident that she would not do anything drastic.
"They made tools to do it for them." That should be vague enough, right?
"Tools?"
The Arboreal Maiden only nodded in response, a signal that she should not dig any deeper on the matter.
"So they made tools to look at that which they could not alone, fascinating."
Once again, they fell silent. There were telltale signs that the Librarian was thinking, such as her head being cocked to the side and the occasional scratch of her chin with her thumb, but she no longer mumbled.
"Do you have any questions about them aside from that which is obviously restricted?" At this point, she just wanted someone to talk to. Evidently the Terrans would be the subject of conversation.
"Hmm, anything besides the forbidden... Actually, there is something I've been curious about for a while. I take it you are at least moderately familiar with the average population of a planet my Lady?"
"Unless it has changed, I recall in should be somewhere in the range of one to two billion souls."
"That isn't too far off. Currently we estimate that most planets are home to between one and a half to three billion humans. I would be inclined to believe that some hundreds of thousands of years ago your knowledge would be most correct, but that is besides the point." The Librarian took a deep breath. "My Lady, is it true that these Terrans were able to sustain well over ten times the highest estimate of the average planetary population on a world completely insulated from the benefits of Split?"
The Arboreal Maiden remained silent, partially unsure of what the most proper response was, partially unsure if she should even give a response. The Librarian interpreted her muteness as not having explained enough, as if the reason should be obvious.
"I have read enough of the stories on civilizations stories about their integration to see a pattern about the Veil's conditions for release. One of the most frequent seems to be the escape from their planet's bounds, meaning they never have the chance to step foot onto another planet that might permit their population to further expand. Is it true they managed to reach that number of people on just a single planet?"
"Not... Not exactly, I would think. You have probably gathered that the conditions this time around were vastly different to all previous iterations, though I will not reveal to you the specifics. In truth there were likely only around 20 to 23 of the 37 billion on their home planet, with the rest elsewhere around their star. Their moon hosted a population close to a billion, with another planet orbiting their star altered to support life and home to another seven billion. The remainder lived on floating constructs, independent from those living on planets in many ways."
"Constructs? Inhabiting their moon? Altering planets? Are we certain they are not a race more akin to gods than mortal men?"
"Of that I have complete and total confidence, though they may soon find their way to that lauded status through means of their own."
"You see the potential for godhood in them?"
"The inevitability of godhood. Only the moment in which this transformation will occur is an unknown, as is the path they shall take to get there."
Grandmother Ashes almost fell to her knees. It was 'common knowledge' that it was impossible to say for sure whether or not someone even could become a god, much less that it was certain.
"I have said too much. Never mention that information to a soul, least of all those two."
"Of course, my Lady. I shall take this secret with me to the grave." She fell to a knee to genuflect, the ultimate form of sincerity and commitment from someone of her station, akin to the warrior's blood oath.
With that, the amicable conversation the Arboreal Maiden had been enjoying vanished. She walked in silence with Grand Elder Szirpty as she had done with the other Grand Elders. It was certainly more stimulating than simply sitting down and watching, her 'eyes' taking the time to re-admire the architecture of the Library. There was a great many ways to manipulate wood, most of them were on display here.
As they came to the end of their tour, the Librarian built up the courage to once again speak.
"My Lady! However impudent of me it might be, I would like to make a request!" Once again, she was genuflecting. Her eyes were directed at the floor, fixating on something yet entirely out of focus.
For a moment, the Arboreal Maiden responded with silence. More than contemplating her options, she was allowing the proper amount of tension for the situation to brew. Her station required a certain amount of ceremony when dealing with certain topics. Eventually, once enough time had passed, she responded.
"Out of consideration for your prolonged service to the Great Csillacra in the pursuit of maintaining the Sanctum's neutrality and preserving the functions of your station, I shall consider your request."
"I offer my greatest gratitude, my Lady. I wish to be granted the privilege of holding a biased relationship with a select number of individuals independent of the Sanctum's authority for the purposes of both better fulfilling the duties requisite of my station and for the sake of my own personal curiosities. Should you refuse my proposal I shall take it in stride, even if the consequences of such a request are to result in my dismissal."
"It is a shame in some ways that I will only allow you to imagine the systems and ideas they have developed. As I have mentioned before, their opinions on justice and how it should be carried out are particularly fascinating even from a neutral perspective, but the spread of that information is dangerous."
"You seem to place an extreme emphasis on the danger of 'knowledge', my Lady, something I find to be perplexing given the purpose of my station." While Grandmother Ashes would never show it on her face, she was actually quite hurt about this. She gathered and made use of knowledge to prevent conflict and increase safety, but the only person she admired was telling her that it was dangerous?
"Knowledge isn't inherently a danger, something I know you are very familiar with. Knowledge is by nature somewhat neutral, what you get out of it largely depends on intent given you know everything attached to what you are applying. The issue with the knowledge the Terrans possess is that it is complex to the point where your understanding will be incomplete without being under their tutelage for an extended period of time."
"Are they truly that complicated?"
"Their philosophical theories and practices? Hopelessly so, to the point I feel it entirely possible they do not fully understand what they themselves have created."
"A case of the creator being unfamiliar with the tool, I see. It would be unwise to learn how something works from an amateur."
"An apt analogy. Many wars bloodier than those we frequently hear of were fought over such incomplete tools, violent debates on how best to complete them. While I trust you would never take such violent or uncalculated actions, there still exists the possibility of you acting on knowledge gleaned from their own actions and making a mistake, not fully understanding the repercussions as you would have no way of understanding."
"Then how did they perfect them?"
"Failure."
"Failure?"
"Indeed, failure. They found out what succeeded by observing and recording what didn't. They referred to this process as trial and error." The Arboreal Maiden was extremely tempted to end the conversation there, but she was enjoying this. In her desire to cultivate a positive relationship and interesting conversation with a more lax subordinate, she was willing to risk future troubles.
Once that pair, trio rather, was let loose on the universe chaos would definitely ensue. The Arboreal Maiden wouldn't mind an extra issue or two if it helped her keep her wits in the present.
"Would I be correct in assuming that 'Trial and Error' implies that failure is the norm?"
"For most of their history, yes. They would tweak minor elements in their experiments in order to see what worked best, if it worked at all. They weren't so foolish to go into such testing completely blind if they could help it, creating models and trying to predict the experiment's behavior beforehand, but there were some fields they were forced to step into blindly. Through this they learned how to work with forces invisible to their eyes, Split being among them."
The Librarian sank into thought as they patrolled the halls chock filled with parchment, occasionally mumbling something under her breath. The Arboreal Maiden, particularly adept at hearing owing to her time spent blindfolded, could piece together that she was working something out in her head.
"How would it be possible to utilize something which they could not see? Surely that means they had no way of touching it either, doesn't it?" Despite her warnings, the Librarian was still digging deeper. Her curiosity was admirable for someone of her status, a position steeped in keeping things the way they had always been. So long as she didn't reveal anything specific enough to warrant investigation, the Arboreal Maiden was confident that she would not do anything drastic.
"They made tools to do it for them." That should be vague enough, right?
"Tools?"
The Arboreal Maiden only nodded in response, a signal that she should not dig any deeper on the matter.
"So they made tools to look at that which they could not alone, fascinating."
Once again, they fell silent. There were telltale signs that the Librarian was thinking, such as her head being cocked to the side and the occasional scratch of her chin with her thumb, but she no longer mumbled.
"Do you have any questions about them aside from that which is obviously restricted?" At this point, she just wanted someone to talk to. Evidently the Terrans would be the subject of conversation.
"Hmm, anything besides the forbidden... Actually, there is something I've been curious about for a while. I take it you are at least moderately familiar with the average population of a planet my Lady?"
"Unless it has changed, I recall in should be somewhere in the range of one to two billion souls."
"That isn't too far off. Currently we estimate that most planets are home to between one and a half to three billion humans. I would be inclined to believe that some hundreds of thousands of years ago your knowledge would be most correct, but that is besides the point." The Librarian took a deep breath. "My Lady, is it true that these Terrans were able to sustain well over ten times the highest estimate of the average planetary population on a world completely insulated from the benefits of Split?"
The Arboreal Maiden remained silent, partially unsure of what the most proper response was, partially unsure if she should even give a response. The Librarian interpreted her muteness as not having explained enough, as if the reason should be obvious.
"I have read enough of the stories on civilizations stories about their integration to see a pattern about the Veil's conditions for release. One of the most frequent seems to be the escape from their planet's bounds, meaning they never have the chance to step foot onto another planet that might permit their population to further expand. Is it true they managed to reach that number of people on just a single planet?"
"Not... Not exactly, I would think. You have probably gathered that the conditions this time around were vastly different to all previous iterations, though I will not reveal to you the specifics. In truth there were likely only around 20 to 23 of the 37 billion on their home planet, with the rest elsewhere around their star. Their moon hosted a population close to a billion, with another planet orbiting their star altered to support life and home to another seven billion. The remainder lived on floating constructs, independent from those living on planets in many ways."
"Constructs? Inhabiting their moon? Altering planets? Are we certain they are not a race more akin to gods than mortal men?"
"Of that I have complete and total confidence, though they may soon find their way to that lauded status through means of their own."
"You see the potential for godhood in them?"
"The inevitability of godhood. Only the moment in which this transformation will occur is an unknown, as is the path they shall take to get there."
Grandmother Ashes almost fell to her knees. It was 'common knowledge' that it was impossible to say for sure whether or not someone even could become a god, much less that it was certain.
"I have said too much. Never mention that information to a soul, least of all those two."
"Of course, my Lady. I shall take this secret with me to the grave." She fell to a knee to genuflect, the ultimate form of sincerity and commitment from someone of her station, akin to the warrior's blood oath.
With that, the amicable conversation the Arboreal Maiden had been enjoying vanished. She walked in silence with Grand Elder Szirpty as she had done with the other Grand Elders. It was certainly more stimulating than simply sitting down and watching, her 'eyes' taking the time to re-admire the architecture of the Library. There was a great many ways to manipulate wood, most of them were on display here.
As they came to the end of their tour, the Librarian built up the courage to once again speak.
"My Lady! However impudent of me it might be, I would like to make a request!" Once again, she was genuflecting. Her eyes were directed at the floor, fixating on something yet entirely out of focus.
For a moment, the Arboreal Maiden responded with silence. More than contemplating her options, she was allowing the proper amount of tension for the situation to brew. Her station required a certain amount of ceremony when dealing with certain topics. Eventually, once enough time had passed, she responded.
"Out of consideration for your prolonged service to the Great Csillacra in the pursuit of maintaining the Sanctum's neutrality and preserving the functions of your station, I shall consider your request."
"I offer my greatest gratitude, my Lady. I wish to be granted the privilege of holding a biased relationship with a select number of individuals independent of the Sanctum's authority for the purposes of both better fulfilling the duties requisite of my station and for the sake of my own personal curiosities. Should you refuse my proposal I shall take it in stride, even if the consequences of such a request are to result in my dismissal."
