Answer:
You must keep this thing. Its loss will affect your brothers. For once yours is lost, it will soon be lost by others.
Thousands of these come together to make a digital image. What is it?
What is it that no man ever yet did see, which never was, but always is to be?
Always old, sometimes new. Never sad, sometimes blue. Never empty, sometimes full. Never pushes, always pulls.
I move without wings, Between silken string, I leave as you find, My substance behind.
I can only be played on a windy day