Vir shelved his thoughts about the moon for later. There was simply too much to take in. If he tried to process it all, his head might’ve exploded.
That’s quite the drop, Vir thought, peering over the ledge. It had to have been as tall as the top of the Mahakurma’s shell, if not higher.
Vir bellowed a roar and jumped.
The black spires blurred around him as he plummeted, falling through the many lanes of sky traffic.
Light Step softened his fall. Even with the Talent, a fall from such height would’ve normally caused him a great deal of pain, though this time, he felt nothing.
The street was similarly lined with gold, though the avenue itself was a brilliant, spotless white. It was made of no material Vir could place. Hard like metal, but pleasantly warm to the touch, it overflowed with Ash Affinity prana.
Four-faced Automatons, at least Vir assumed they were Automatons—strode down the street, each face having a conversation with the others attached to its head.
Women wore silk dresses covered with ornate prana patterns that continuously shifted—pieces of living art. The women wore even more gold than the men, boasting piercings in their ears, noses, and exposed belly buttons.
The gold theme continued, with every single person Vir saw having at least a half dozen ornaments.
“My people enjoyed self-expression,” Ashani said fondly, walking down the bustling road.
Vir followed behind Ashani, stricken with awe.
A man with baggy pants sat with arms and legs crossed and eyes closed, riding by on a silk rug—the sort Vir saw in the palace at Daha. Except this one floated on a layer of prana, whisking it silently to its destination.
“Fine handcrafted weapons! Come get some souvenirs for your children! They’ll love it!” a man said, twirling a chakram around his finger.
The deadly disk glinted and buzzed with a deathly sound. Vir felt a deadliness from the chakram and recognized the Ash prana ringing the blade.
“He’s selling that to a child?” Vir exclaimed in horror.
A small boy, no older than eight or nine, jumped up and down in glee as he held the weapon. With his bare hands.
“Ama, can we get it?” he said, pleading with his mother. “Please? Please?”
“I assure you, it cuts through prana itself! Pranites ensure the blade will never dull, and it can reforge itself if ever bent or broken, so your boy here can chop as many seric dummies as his heart desires!”
The woman beside him rolled her eyes. “Does it at least return to you? These handmade contraptions always skimp on the details.”
“But of course! Watch!” The man threw the chakram high into the air. After reaching the zenith of its trajectory, the chakram shot back to him with the same force he’d thrown it with.
That sure would be nice… Vir thought enviously. Bet those chakrams could cut through anything.
The mother finally tossed the man a seric coin that looked all too familiar. In fact, it was exactly the same as the coin the Human Realm used.
“That weapon is nothing but a toy,” Ashani said. “The child could not cut himself with that even if he tried.”
Right. I keep forgetting they’re not human.
“You there! How about some fresh jamuns?” another vendor shouted, pointing to a passerby. A sweet treat levitated just above his palm, slowly whisking itself over to the unsuspecting customer, tempting them with its delicious smells.
“No? Perhaps a crisp, juicy Jalebi then?”
The jamun disappeared, instantly replaced with a spiraling orange treat that Vir recognized—he’d eaten one at the banquet at Avi.
“How?” Vir whispered, only half-believing the incredible feat.
The man just created a dessert out of thin air!
“Lady Ashani?” Vir asked, trembling. “Your people could make things with prana?”
“Of course! From clothing to entire cities, all could be constructed with prana. Matter, energy, prana. My people were masters of conversion between these three forms.
“Such instant gratification, however, seldom made for satisfying experiences. Most of us preferred the older methods. Handmade items always demanded quite the premium, despite their inferiority to anything made through prana fabrication,” Ashani said, smiling wistfully. “They weren’t even aligned on a molecular level, let alone the submolecular.”
“Wait, why are there even vendors if people can make anything on demand?” Vir asked, glossing over the terms he didn’t understand. He’d made the mistake of asking Ashani to explain some of it once. Never again.
Ashani’s eyes twinkled. “For the experience, of course! Having everything at your fingertips can make for a dreadfully boring life, wouldn’t you agree?”
“The experience…”
For a society so advanced, it felt bizarre that they behaved so similarly to the people of today.
“We were not always so,” she explained. “Long ago, when my people learned how to convert prana into matter, our society nearly died. As you can imagine, conjuring our hearts’ desires whenever we wished created many issues for us. People stopped talking to one another, holing themselves up in their homes. They lost their purpose in life. It was quite the crisis.”
“You’re not about to tell me that your people didn’t need to eat, are you?”
“Why, that’s precisely correct. We overcame the body’s basic requirements for sustenance long ago. Prana serves as a far superior, more efficient energy source for the body, after all. Why bother with the unpleasantness of consuming food?
“Alas, food culture only grew more prevalent when it was no longer a daily necessity. You can imagine how people might grow bored after living for thousands of years, can’t you?”
“Thousands!” Vir wheezed.
“Why, yes. After the Imperium solved aging and disease, few have ever died. The discovery happened well before my time, mind you. It was one of the more primitive advancements. Ancient history, really.”
Vir couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. How could he? How could he believe that the world had soared so high, only to fall so far? That people lived forever and worked miracles to hawk snacks! Snacks they didn’t even need to eat. For leisure. For fun.
How could he ever content himself with the current state of the world after seeing all this? These were beings who’d mastered prana in ways Vir couldn’t ever have imagined.
Ashani swept her arms over the street. “In all of recorded history, there has never been a civilization as prosperous or as powerful as us. Not before, and certainly not after. Hunger, disease, aging, poverty… even crime. These had all been conquered by my people, existing only as distant memories of darker times. This was Mahādi at the height of the Prime Imperium’s power.” She paused. “It exists now only as a hollow projection.”
Tears welled in Vir’s eyes. So much greatness. How many thousands—or perhaps millions—of souls contributed to the development of such a civilization? How many millennia had it taken to accomplish such feats? And it’s all gone. Just… gone. All that knowledge. Lost forever.
Vir wiped his tears away. “Y’know? I’m kinda regretting this.”
“I have many regrets,” Ashani said softly, her words reaching him despite the bustle of the city. “The greatest of which is that you are the first to ever hear this story.”
Vir faced the white lady. “I’m honored, Lady Ashani. I swear to you—they will not be forgotten. I’ll tell everyone about this.”
“You cannot know how happy that would make me,” Ashani said with a small smile. “Now come, there is much to be seen.”