Ainwa in hindsight

As we might have expected, everything was perfect. The Undying Maker, in wisdom, has seen fit to install us in a beautiful valley. Our settlements have been prepared for us on the side of the valley, on a gentle incline. A stream flows at the bottom of the valley, weaving through the foliage, no doubt following a path carved expertly by the Maker to sustain our thirsts.

Our new home valley runs parallel to the path of the star. We have not yet seen the star disappear below the horizon yet, since it has been mere esks since we awoke in this place. As I write, it is nearly overhead, and casts a gentle red incandescence over us.

At the time of our arrival, the star was low in the air, and it's unobtrusive, yet friendly glow, Maker be blessed, was nearly obscured by the trees through which it infiltrated. These trees, we noticed later under better light, are part of a larger population; a forest which seems to cover the entire valley on one side of our position.

The Maker's servants direct us to name this direction 'west', so we do so. By analogy, they explained before their departure, the opposing direction must therefore be 'east'. In the terminology of the Maker's servants, which we faithfully adopt as our own, the star has spend the last ten esks rising in the sky from the west, and will, if the Maker approves, continue downward to the east.

The orbs of Bottled Light with which we are already acquainted are already dotted around our fine settlement. We about twenty of the blessed spheres against the dim sky, up on the ridge of our valley, and have sent parties to retrieve them before the inevitable stardown. We expect, as the star dips below the horizon, that they will exhale their gathered light to sustain us through the dark, just as the Maker intends.

The servants have left us now, having journeyed west into the forest. We did ask the Maker's servants, as we awoke and looked onto surface of this new surrogate Home, what is wished of us, yet we received replies we are not intended to comprehend. The Maker, in wisdom, will certainly reveal the meanings of these answers in time, once we have proved ourselves by proliferating through this new world, this surrogate Home, this Ainwa.

The Machinery grafted to the being of each one of our number did warm as we stepped onto Ainwa for the first time. We take this as a sign of good things in the future, as we establish ourselves as the Maker wishes. We, the People, earnestly thank the Undying Maker for such grace. We also earnestly hope that we may prove ourselves worthy to return Home once our time on Ainwa comes to a close.

From the Book of Testimonials, a part of the Collected Texts of the Circle of Three Gifts

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Or at least that was how it was meant to be.

The Maker no longer answers our cries, of course. The once-blessed orbs of Bottled Light have been extinguished. Our expansion is over, and the faithful are returning to the most holy place where we first set foot on Ainwa. This valley will become full over the next few esks, as our People return to the place we all came from.

My own Machinery is more of a burden than a blessing. It failed me several days ago, and is mere dead weight upon my person. The Healers testify that they can safely remove the Machinery, but I would sooner rip out my own soul before I allowed one of them to touch me. I still have hope that the Maker will return to us, though the knowledge that the Healers have not yet procured a living subject to test their procedure does not endear me to them either.

There are whisperings that perhaps our time on Ainwa is coming to a close. Some in the Circle maintain that the Maker wants us to go Home, and suggest that we expedite the process ourselves, before the Machinery fails all of us.

So of our three Gifts, Light and Machinery have now failed. What of History?