PROLOGUE
A living planet beneath their feet, civilization grew and fell. Humanity changed with each passing revolution. Energy and particles swarmed in a cycle, everything was self-contained. Nothing added, nothing removed; complete.
Then they discovered how to do it. Pulling the planet's secrets up from its core, mankind wielded magic for the first time.
The power to create in their hands, they found the best in themselves. Incredible feats in medicine rose first, cures for terminal diseases popped up everywhere. An urge to save the dying reared, and an unprecedented era of health began.
Mortality rates were better globally and, in time, ceased to exist. An empire rose, literally, into the sky. The Soaring City became and remained a capital, of sorts, for ages. Yet due to its unbound nature, the city's boundaries came into question many times. It crossed over borders without care, all it took to take it down was one angry world leader.
Magic's creative uses were similarly destructive. A war ended The Soaring City, and when it fell all citizens went with it.
Mankind learned more about their planet that day. The city had been flying much higher than necessary, a bragging right to the governing party. Impact with the surface affected the atmosphere. It became an event recognized as the first critical fall of humanity.
The next round took centuries to begin. The planet's wound had healed, its air breathable again. It recycled its people, creating new ones from their remains.
Humanity continued on, refreshed and without its magical roots. People struggled through the new hardships of their planet, never knowing what used to be.
Instead of magic, they pursued science. Huge leaps in technology started to roll in, each one bigger than the last. People could fly again, their lives built around inventions of their own making.
But waste started to build up in the planet. Humanity's creations left residue, and soon even recycled beings were sickly. Extinctions became increasingly common. Mankind adapted, created more to balance the scale.
In time the planet could no longer keep up. Wars raged on its surface over resources. Bombs fell and people died. And died.
Toxic air was technically the bringer of mankind's second critical fall.
Those that remained rebuilt with what they had, adapted as they could. They walked on top of the old world, millennia of forgotten history beneath their feet.
The planet, poisoned and dying, made its last risky decision. With nothing to lose, it escaped from within itself and left its core cold. One last breath created one last hope. And the planet waited.