“I think there’s something I need to clear up before we move on.” I started with a purposeful, careful, diplomatic tone of voice.

“Yes, Emma?” Thalmin replied with a cock of his head.

“I’m only using the term commoner because I think that it’s, at best, an analogous term that is able to somewhat bridge the gap between our two cultures. However, I don’t think it really gets to the heart of how fundamentally different our two societies are structured. For in my world, the delineation between noble, peasant, commoner, and the sort simply does not exist - legally, functionally, and practically speaking.” I began with a firm statement that seemed to be as nearly as reality shattering as everything else around Thalmin at this point. “The way things work today, necessitates a society that relies not on the decisions of those with the capacity for mana manipulation, the access to generational wealth, or the birthright to rule, but on the quantitative abilities and responsibilities of the individual. Thus, every individual is… for lack of a better term, perhaps more akin to a noble in their own right. As every individual is responsible for the fundamental operation of our government, and integral in the practical operation of our society and its economy.”

This explanation hung in the air, punctuated by several more ring ring rings of the fleets of cyclists and scooterists on the streets in front of us, and the long drawn-out electrical hum of the elevated tracks above us.

Thalmin’s facial features did not betray his inner turmoil, but his eyes certainly did. As they ranged in emotions from shock to concern, and at one point, something I could almost mistake as a look of fear. Before ending up with what could only be described as a reluctant look of awareness; culminating in a single, wordless, nod of his head.

This was followed closely by Ilunor’s smoke-ridden huffs, and as expected, Thacea’s signature stoic yet deeply concerned gaze.

All three stared at me with varying levels of suspicion, which I attempted to placate with a polite and drawn out sigh. “I can address this matter after we are finished with the tour. I know it’s a lot to take in, but if you recall from the helmet cam footage I showed you earlier, it was something that was already touched upon during the confrontation with Mal’tory. So you can understand that I am not lying. I wouldn’t have just ruined my perceived legitimacy in my argument with him just to flex a lie. Still, it’s one thing to just talk the talk. I need to show you I can walk the walk as well, and I have just the things lined up to show you.” This seemed to raise a few brows with the whole group, prompting Thalmin in particular to look on at me with a renewed sense of engagement. As if acknowledging the perceived loftiness of my statements, then following it up with my promise to uphold the burden of truth, was enough to get him back on board. Thalmin was, after all, a man who seemed to prefer action to back up words. “If you guys are, of course, still alright with me continuing?”

I could’ve just continued.

But establishing their willingness to progress was important.

If SIOP had taught me anything, it’s that Fundamental Systemic Incongruency required a constant back and forth between both parties. Which also meant these periodic checks before moving to more complex topics was vital. Just like how a good teacher would check with a class before moving on to mind-numbing math principle number 394.

“Of course. That’s what we’re here for, right?” Thalmin spoke with a nervous laugh.

Followed up closely by a polite chirp from Thacea. “Indeed. Please feel free to proceed, Emma.”

Two nods of varying levels of apprehension soon followed, with only Thalmin and Thacea actually voicing their acknowledgement. This left Ilunor with just a faint shrug, lending the EVI’s warnings even more credence.

Time would tell if the deluxe kobold would actually hit that Information Dissemination Overflow threshold.

But until then, I carried on, prompting the EVI to move the projection along as we left the heart of the old quarter slowly at the pace of a brisk walk.

Things progressed quickly as we did so.

As we walked down streets that would’ve been remarkably familiar to those who’d walked the same sidewalks five, seven, maybe even nine centuries ago. For despite the replacement and augmentation of a few lesser iconic 20th century structures during the latter half of the 21st, most of the skyline would have still been recognizable to those from its early history.

Indeed, it was around this point that each of the gang’s focus seemed to shift and diverge, as Thacea’s eyes were trained squarely towards the skies, whilst Thalmin’s gaze was fixated on the going ons at ground level.

Neither party was going to be missing out with their chosen fixations, as the skies above buzzed with the same degree of activity as the busy streets below.

Indeed, the aerially-inclined amongst our group was going through a certain degree of sensory overload as a result. As Thacea’s pupils darted back and forth between the different lanes of drones, all criss crossing above and between the buildings, moving in perfect unison like cars traveling on an invisible track of rail. It didn’t take me long to realize that a direct and eerie comparison could be drawn between the stacked droneways of Acela and that of the avinor capital’s skyways. However instead of sapient people-sized birds dominating the airways, it was quad-blades and ornithopters carrying modular suitcase-sized containers; albeit with similarly colorful plumages (or in this case, artwork) adorning their sides. Many of them proudly boasting locally-drawn pieces of artwork advertising local businesses.

However, it was clear that alone wasn’t the avinor’s sole focus, as her gaze was constantly drawn back to the more permanent fixtures of the skyline - the skyscrapers themselves.

“Emma.” Thacea began with a tentative breath. “Forgive me for being so forward, but I must ask: your people are flightless, correct?”

“Yup, that’s correct. Hence why you don’t see any of us performing the cool aerial acrobatics you guys were showing off in that sight-seer tour of yours.” I managed out with a wide smile and an encouraging tone of voice still brimming with excitement from this whole cultural exchange.

That little compliment seemed to take Thacea off guard, as I could just about make out a look of abashment, followed milliseconds later by the same tempered but anxious expression returning shortly thereafter. “Thank you, Emma. Flattery aside, this leads me to a question. Considering your flightless predisposition, what purpose does the verticality of your city serve?”

I… paused at that question. Actually paused as it prompted me to actively reflect. This hit me as hard as one of those Cross Cultural Information Dissemination Exercises SIOP handed me weekly. The instructors always stressed that answers to these sorts of questions should preferably include not just the plain and objective answer, but should also serve as a vehicle for cultural dissemination, to bridge the gap.

And what better way to do that than with the skyscraper.

A testament of human ingenuity, prosperity, and culture.

Everything led me to one, simple conclusion. A conclusion that at its core, felt so fundamentally human.

“Habitation, community, productivity, and the facilitation of a way of life we’ve become accustomed to - an urban life.”

“But why?” Ilunor suddenly asked through a strained breath. “Why the need to go so high up?”

“Because we wanted to, Ilunor.” I answered definitively, and without an air of doubt to be had between each and every word. “Because we want to live in close proximity to services, to amenities, to our work and to the beating heart of civilization. Because as human beings, we’re drawn to the prospect of advancement. It’s in our very core, an inherent desire to want to be at the center of it all. This pull is so strong that this was how the first cities were created, out of necessity for the consolidation of skilled labor to better share in cooperation. However as time went on, this cooperative nature necessitated out of our manaless predispositions, pushed us to specialize in increasingly niche fields, and in doing so pushed us to entrench ourselves in increasingly tight-knit cooperative communities. We’re drawn to cities because we’re social beings, and we build these skyscrapers because we all want to be in the same place at the same time. This results in the expansion of the city outwards, but also, upwards. For to be at the heart of it all, ten, twenty, fifty stories isn’t enough to fulfill the housing needs of every human being. We needed more, we wanted more, and so we decided to commit to that vision. However, there’s another element to this. One that I mentioned just a few moments ago. We humans have a desire to express ourselves through our creative endeavors. It’s in our very soul. These buildings aren’t just utilitarian blocks of composalite and glass, they’re works of art and culture, a medium of expression unto themselves; the zeitgeist of a generation immortalized in construction. Moreover, we humans have an innate desire to cement our legacy into this world of ever shifting chaos. We build ourselves monuments in the form of our buildings and cities, as a bulwark of stability against an ever shifting natural world. In short, we built them because we could, because we wanted to, to serve the purposes of housing, of work, of entertainment and leisure, and as canvases for our art and culture.”

A long pause punctuated that speech, as the EVI seemed to have taken it upon itself to arrive at a particular stretch of street that practically boasted this frame of mind. It was a street that went straight through the heart of Manhattan, giving one unparalleled views of skyscrapers towering above from both sides of the converted road, leading up towards the historic cluster of the Empire State, Chrysler and other assortment of art deco icons, before finally revealing an ominous, foreboding, almost otherworldly presence of something just beyond those 20th century marvels. Towering, looming, but not actively encroaching on these monuments of the old world.

For the direct line of sight on a good clear day revealed a monolithic behemoth that shared dominance with two more of its brethren, the trio of starscrapers which has for centuries now acted as the backdrop to this iconic vantage point in old town Manhattan.

The three towers were arranged in such a way that it almost seemed to frame the old quarter, like guardians of the old world. Yet at the same time, they were not shy about embracing their own identity, belonging to an age of unparalleled scale and prosperity, built to solve problems intrinsic to their own time. They served as a constant reminder of progress, yet with clear deference to the past from which they arose from. As despite their immense height, they did not seek to actively compete for attention. Their towering presence accomplished that already. Instead, their art deco revivalist facades, their tapered geometrical rise to the top, their deliberate choice of design elements hearkening back to the old quarter which they loomed over, served to hammer home their commitment of having one foot in the past with the other firmly planted in the future.

Thacea’s eyes all but glistened at the sight. Her eyes locked onto the monoliths in the horizon, and her stoic visage straining to maintain its regal veneer.

No words were uttered around this point, as I allowed the gang to take in the sights for as long as they needed to.

“As flightless, manaless beings, we always dreamed of reaching for the skies.” I eventually broke the silence. “So once we attained that, we next dreamed about scraping the stars themselves. And so with great effort, we eventually accomplished that too.”

Ilunor was the first to side eye me at that comment, but to his credit, he refused to elaborate further aside from a soot-ridden hurmf.

It was Thalmin that properly broke the silence, as the look of doubt in his eyes didn’t necessarily grow, but remained steady and unbroken. “I want to believe you Emma.” He started off. “But I find it increasingly difficult to imagine anyone, commoner or noble alike, actually living in this museum of monuments.”

It was then that something clicked within me. And it wasn’t so much that each of the three had varying levels of their own suspensions of disbelief. Moreso, it was the approach of familiarity that mattered. By starting off with oldtown Manhattan, Thacea was able to see all of the varying structures leading up to the starscrapers. She understood intrinsically the flow of progression given her vertically minded headspace.

Thalmin, on the other hand, required a different approach.

And if his words didn’t already convey it, then his sight-seer tour still fresh in my mind certainly did.

He needed to see things from ground level, as he’d done with his trek through his city.

I’d need to replicate that too if I were to stand a chance at not pushing him over the IDOV threshold.

“Then I’ll show you, Thalmin.” I announced politely, gleefully even. As the projection promptly shifted from that scenic, touristy view, back towards the subdivided city blocks and the streets that meandered through them.

Silhouetted and darkened figures walked the small meandering streets that carved straight through what were formerly impassable blocks, opening up the way to more street-level amenities and services that catered to the pedestrian. Indeed, aside from the increased density, nothing at the ground level had truly changed that much. The small businesses and legacy storefronts remained as they have for centuries, albeit with a few tweaks to their product lineup and menus. The larger upscale retail stores whilst having swapped brands, leases, and allegiances over the centuries largely followed the same pattern, having for the most part maintained the same pedestrian-facing stores.

Brick and mortar facades stood alongside iconic brownstones, with the occasional glass and white-steel breaking up the pure oldtown aesthetic, the latter having themselves become historic by virtue of their age despite not looking the part.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Everything was recognizable, save for of course the absence of a few of the eyesores that had momentarily become synonymous with the NYC pedestrian experience— the eternal sidewalk scaffolding. That unfortunate aspect of old NYC heritage had been left behind for the better.

But the changes didn’t stop there. As taking after the global Tidy Cities Initiative of the 25th century, possible only with the advent of cheap and plentiful centralized and partially autonomous robotic labor, the streets were absolutely spotless. You’d be hard-pressed to find a stray piece of gum, let alone a random bag of trash, or even a pile of autumn leaves present for longer than a few minutes before one of the cleanerbot swarms came around to dispose of it.

Thalmin seemed to take note of this, at everything in fact, as he began the expected gauntlet of questions.

“So, Emma.”

“Yes, Thalmin?”

“With so many people, how is it that your streets remain clean?”

“Oh, let me show you.” I paused the simulation in place, materializing a bag of holographic trash as I placed it on one of the street corners. Soon enough, a small squad of football-sized cubots with wide, round, dumb, glowing eyes came sauntering out of one of the unmarked pods that popped up every few blocks. The squad of goobers worked in coordinated unison, efficiently packing, hauling, then dragging the trash into their pod and vanishing out of sight.

“I see…” Was all Thalmin could say, his eyes that had once narrowed in suspicion now widened in tentative acknowledgement as we pressed onwards. “But when discussing a city of hundreds of millions, surely these… mana-less golems couldn’t possibly be enough-”

“Oh of course they aren’t. However, in each and every apartment lies a centralized direct tube network that whisks away commercial and residential grade trash alike directly to processing plants. In addition, we’ve made great strides in waste reduction too. Community printers, mini-assemblers, and repair shops help in maintaining what we already have, avoiding a throw-first buy-next mentality that plagued us for the longest while.” I had the EVI enter a random high-rise apartment, one of the more modern refurbished ones as we ascended the stairs and into a second-story communal area dominated by the aforementioned printer, and a whole host of repair tools.

“Fascinating.” Thalmin acknowledged with a look of engagement. “So I’m assuming this… space is similar in function to a town’s blacksmith and communal work parlor, except…” He trailed off, allowing me to finish that sentence for him.

“...except it’s able to produce a lot more than a blacksmith, yup. Able to repair a lot of the tools we rely on. And, it serves a vertical community, rather than one spread out like a town.”

That latter sentence in particular seemed to click within the lupinor, as he nodded with a clear shift in his features.

We eventually left the building, heading back onto the streets as the gauntlet of questions continued.

“That store specializes in… flowers?” The lupinor prince pointed at a florist shop, clad in its period-green colors with bold bright white lettering denoting it as having been established sometime in the late 20th century.

“Yes, while you can order it on-” I paused, realizing how I almost casually entered a whole new can of worms that I really didn’t need to get into right now. “Erm, while you can order it via dedicated messaging systems, a lot of people still love the experience of actually talking to a florist themselves.”

“And I assume your typical common-, er… individual, is capable of affording such luxuries?”

“Yup, I mean it’s definitely not covered by Requisitions Units, so you’d have to pay for it out of pocket using Universal Transaction Units. But yeah, it’s affordable enough.”

This elicited something of a raised brow from the lupinor as we then crossed paths with more points of interest. “And this one, or rather, this street in particular. These seem to be stores of some sort? General stores?”

“Oh these? Yeah! They’re bodegas, basically our city’s version of general stores.” I quickly prompted the EVI to veer the projection towards the storefronts as I stood in front of one in particular, gesturing both of my arms towards the fresh produce and other assorted freshly harvested ingredients piled up high in clean-containers reminiscent of a 31st century replication of a 20th century establishment. “Again, while you can get them directly delivered by supermarket retailers or the requisitions office via those guys up above-” I pointed directly overhead, at the lanes of drones that continued meandering back and forth. “-there’s just something about going to local retailers that’s kept these places a cornerstone of city life. Moreover-” I paused, panning the scene over to one of Aunty Ran’s favorite stores… the Asian Specialty Market. “-there’s a lot more specialized goods you can get from these places too! With lots of people comes lots of culture and thus lots of need for a variety of ingredients!” I grinned wide, eliciting yet another nod from Thalmin as we moved forwards deeper still.

Eventually, we ended up in an area with a particularly dense collection of small restaurants. Something the lupinor prince, as his visit to Valley Hill had hinted at, was particularly interested in.

“Oh this street in particular is infamous for how good it smells. You got the smell of freshly baked buttery goods, side by side fragrant spices, herbs, and heck, the constantly-spinning turntable of pizzas just constantly slamming you face first with that cheesy, tomato-y, garlic-y, basil-y goodness.” I rattled off in the confines of my helmet, eliciting what could only be described as a subtle sniff sniff sniff by the lupinor prince who promptly frowned as a result.

“Your sight-seer does not come with the immersive experience of scents it seems.” He spoke disappointedly, albeit still with a renewed sense of invigorated focus and interest.

“Hey, you’re only tasting a fraction of what I’m going through right now with my suit. The past ten or so meals we’ve had together have been nothing short of torture, so now you get a taste of what I’ve been experiencing this past week!” I announced jocularly, prompting the lupinor to break out in a smile, as he slapped my back once with reasonable force.

“That’s rough.” Was all Thalmin said through a wide fangy sneer, as this bit of friendly, jokingly teasing humor seemed to be quite on brand for the prince.

This down to earth look at the city, focusing and honing in on its daily life, seemed to accomplish exactly what I was going for. As Thalmin seemed to grow increasingly attuned to the idea of the city, now that the question of day to day life was actually addressed.

Though there was still at least one area of interest that Thacea had seemingly shifted focus towards. As in addition to eyeing the shops and stores, her vision now focused on something Thalmin was likewise starting to hone in on as well.

The streets.

Because unlike the heritage town of Valley Hill, where the typical road to sidewalk model was relatively unchanged, the city was decidedly different. For there was now a distinct lack of a space for cars, as the space between buildings had been entirely reimagined. Now dominated centrally by light-rail, and flanked further by lanes specifically devoted to a myriad of pedestrian-grade vehicles - namely bicycles, scooters, and a whole assortment of wheeled transportation designed explicitly for compact personal use.

The gang, and Thalmin in particular, stared intently at every commuter as they seamlessly transitioned between the tram before unfolding and unfurling their preferred mode of personal transport towards their final destination. As thousands more people walked along the wide open expanse of sidewalk that now shared dominance alongside bicycles and scooters, electric or traditionally powered.

“I can wrap my head around the lack of horses, Emma.” Thalmin began, pointing at the bicycles. “This contraption is… remarkably and deceptively simple yet innovative, and once again brings into question not only the skills of your blacksmiths and manufactoriums, but the volume by which they are able to outcompete more simple means of beast-driven personal transport. However, my question is thus. You previously implied that your manaless beastless carriages were the primary mode of transport. But I do not see them anywhere here unlike your first hometown.”

“Oh, they’re here. They’re just underneath our feet. Alongside the other half of our public transport systems.”

“Underground carriageways?”

“Yup.”

“For what purpose?”

“There just wasn’t enough space for them aboveground. And as you can see around you, the space is better suited to be used by people rather than cars. In cities where space is at a premium, ground-level commuting is usually centered around the pedestrian rather than the car.”

“You make it sound as if there were actually too many beastless carriages at one point, Emma.” Thalmin replied with a narrowing of his eyes.

Prompting me to stare back at him with a blank, featureless expression that could only be read as if only you knew. Sadly, the helmet nullified what would’ve been half of my response. So I had to once again rely on good old fashioned words to get my point across.

“There were, Thalmin.” I replied bluntly. “At one point-” I gestured up and down the street, before prompting the EVI to quickly switch to a pre 26th century New York. Prior to the urban restructuring schemes. “-there were literally so many of them on the roads that there was nowhere for them to go.”

Thalmin was hit face first with the blasting of horns, prompting him to hold his ears down.

This was followed up by a look of complete and utter shock, as I could track his eyes darting from one end of the street to the other, down the seemingly endless bumper-to-bumper traffic that moved at a snail’s pace. The sidewalks were overly crowded too, with barely any space to breathe as a result.

This blast from the past lasted for only a few seconds more before the scene quickly transitioned back to modern day. As the gang breathed a collective sigh of relief having just narrowly escaped gridlock NYC.

“As you can see, one of our greatest accomplishments became our greatest hurdle. We were… in a sense… suffering from success. However, like many things in human history, we found alternative solutions to the very problems we created.” The scene shifted once more, this time, we began sinking into the Earth itself, which strangely enough didn’t seem to phase any amongst the group.

In fact, they seemed to collectively understand we were now witnessing a semi-realistic architectural render of the ground beneath where we were just standing atop of.

It was, instead, the content of what they were seeing that began throwing them off. As we were now witness to one the larger commuter-tunnels. A massive multi-laned, multi-level tube that hosted a similar number of cars from the pre 26th century projection. Except this time, traffic flowed smoothly.

“We divided the space in a way that wouldn’t simply remove the option of a mode of transportation, but instead we saw where each could shine in their own way. The space a car takes above ground is better suited for a small group of bikes, scooters, or whatever your choice of personal transport is. Cities must be built with its people in mind after all, and what better way of doing that then maximizing the space they have to walk, and giving them sunlight priority. Besides, getting from Point A to Point B isn’t as slow as the tram might lead you to believe.” I gestured at the tram in question, moving at a leisurely enough pace when compared to the trains that soared above on the spaghetti-like elevated rail network. “Normally you’d just take a subway or a skytrain, then reach your final destination on foot or on wheels. It’s pretty quick too, let me show you-”

“Emma.” Thalmin stopped me before I could continue, his face expressing the exhaustion from the outright endless flow of information that had inundated him up to this point. “It’s slowly starting to become clear to me that a lot of the troubles you face aren’t troubles at all.” Thalmin spoke candidly, as if he wasn’t allowing the words to stew in his head before blurting them out.

“What do you mean?”

“The problem of this… carriage congestion, can only arise out of a situation wherein an excess of beastless carriages existed in the first place. Which, to get to that point, would require a whole host of advances that would leave certain other issues completely overlooked.”

“Issues such as food, water, shelter, disease, and poverty. Problems that should be plaguing an adjacent realm. Problems which are both life-threatening and palpable.” Ilunor spoke abruptly, once more butting into the conversation with a burst of smoke-filled breaths. “The problems you currently raise are non-problems that arise only once you become comfortable. These are crownland problems, problems that arise if and only the fundamental problems of life are addressed.”

“You mean immaterial worries that arise out of complexity?” I offered, prompting the Vunerian’s eyes to grow wide with shock and confusion, as if he wasn’t expecting those words in particular to emerge from my vocoders.

“Yes…” He managed out. “But that is a terminology which you should not know.”

“Because it’s reserved for those living in highly advanced societies right?”

“I…”

“That is correct, Emma.” Thacea finally stepped in, completely sidestepping the now-flabbergasted Vunerian as he stood there, eyes vacant and pupils dilated. “For what you are suggesting, and the manner in which you are conveying your realm, seems to imply that your society is one that suffers from none of the pitfalls facing a pre-contact adjacent realm. More than that though, the manner in which you carry the narrative of your civilization seems to imply that the complexity which you have managed to accomplish far outclasses even those adjacent realms that have been entwined with the Nexus for the longest.”

“I guess that may just be the case.” I acknowledged with an awkward, sheepish sigh. “And that might have to do with the fundamental differences in how we operate, and what we rely on. By virtue of our technology, our sciences, we rely on everyone to cooperate, which allows for a lot of advancement as it spreads out the burden of progress amongst a huge swath of people. I’m assuming that progress when it comes to magic, is only limited to like, a room full of nobles per realm at best, right?”

“That is being reductive, Emma.” Thacea shot back sharply, but added softly thereafter. “But not entirely far from the truth.”

I acknowledged that with a curt nod. “I apologize if I was getting ahead of myself there. But the point I’m trying to make here is that without mana, without magic, the burden of advancement fell on the shoulders of the people. And it was with that, that advancement was made with the betterment of all in mind.”

“An example which can be seen with the mode of transportation we took to get into the city I presume? For in the absence of transportiums, and with the need to move not simply materials but people en masse, you employ the use of rail.” Thacea openly pondered. “Which instead of remaining a niche augment to transportiums, have in and of themselves become the primary mode of transportation.”

“Correct.” I nodded.

“So instead of an immaterial connection provided by magic, you instead needed to cross that physical gap.”

“By brute forcing it through laying down tens of thousands of miles worth of track, and then some, yup.”

“I see.”

Silence once more crept up after that exchange, with Thacea once more going deep into thought, Thalmin following suit… but with Ilunor maintaining a look of utter loss in his eyes.

“I don’t believe you.” He managed out low and hushed. “I don’t believe you.” He tried again, his voice resonating deep within his throat before finally, he let out a respectable roar. “I refuse to believe you!”

I allowed him to calm down first, allowing him to regain his bearings, as a full minute passed before I replied with no pretenses of superiority, but with only a friendly tone of voice to color my speech. “What’ll it take for you to believe me, Ilunor?”

“Show me… show me how you managed this.”

“Alright then.” I nodded in prompt agreement. “That can be arranged.”