A cloudship of proud craftsmanship, HCS Icarus flew idly by in the great outskirts beyond, passing by without notice. A few other ships, some smaller vessels, made their way through the dense, murky clouds and into the bright light of midday sun as they passed on their way home from work. There was hardly any activity at all, except the few people who were walking briskly along the surface deck. The sky above the cloud was blue, though with greyish patches scattered here and there, as if something heavy had drifted through. No birds sang, no wind ruffled the trees; not even a breath of air stirred among them.
The air shimmered ever so slightly as the hull passed through the atmosphere; the faintest bit of light escaping into the horizon. An empty void where Extremis Imperium once was, but for what the land had become, eternal peace gripped the people of these old battlefields. It was a tranquil place indeed. The Wars of Birthrights had closed to an end.