It was never a competition to begin with. Amaurot is long gone. Humanity is in the present. The main reason why it's instructive to discuss Amaurot here at all is to learn from their mistakes.

Creation magic is not something that you use passively. Remember that this is the true form of summoning magic. It takes a lot of active concentration to use, because you need to hold the form of your creation steady in your mind's eye.

'By your bemused expression, I gather you find it odd that your elders can fail in so simple an application of creation magicks? It is more common than you realize, little one. In this instance, a gaggle of children was passing by as I held the image of the robes in my mind's eye. Simply by becoming aware of their presence was the form influenced and the final product changed. All things considered, it could have been worse. Just the other day, I was attempting to conceive a white haired lion, when all of a sudden this exquisite eagle alighted on the nearby railing, giving me quite the shock - and dramatically altering my initial concept!'

Amaurot is most definitely a society built around conformity. One of the very first things that you learn is that your individualistic way of dressing is a sign of depravity in their eyes. 'To delight in disparity is the mark of the morally deficient.' 'The eyes of the collective are ever watching and weighing your worth.'

The common person never speaks out against the Convocation while you're in Amaurot, given that they are held as 'the wisest and most puissiant' out of all of them. And it's worth remembering that, despite being part of its supreme leadership, Azem was unpersoned simply for refusing to tow the party line.

It's also worth noting that the way that the survivors of Thavnair warded off their Final Days was exactly as you described. They mastered their fears through their spirituality, by reciting the teachings of their old gods. They found strength and comfort in each other. And I think that's more the central theme of the story, than it is about ruminating about the 'what ifs' of a long dead civilization.

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings;
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.