The Power of Ten

Shroudbreak +50 years...

Even for the City of Brass, watching a titan who looked like that approach was not something that was seen every day.

One of the greatest metropolises of all the planes, the famous capital city of the Empire of the Efreet sprawled across an area greater than many mortal worlds. It was filled with grandiose architecture that suited the egos of the genies who lived there, areas the size of nations set aside just for visitors, trade, or as nature preserves for the whims of the efreet rulers, and it beat with the heart of elemental fire: ambition, power, and the drive for more of both!

Outsiders were not allowed to fly freely within the city, so the great draconic wings spread wide and the massive figure, the average efreet barely reaching her knees, alighted as lightly as a feather... and nevertheless the area for a great distance around trembled as she did so.

There were many conveyances lined up waiting to pass the great obsidian walls etched with the flaming Runes and tributes to the glory of the efreet. Ready statues even taller than the titan stared down impassively as she strode past the floating vehicles, great beasts of burden, lumbering giants loaded down with goods, rows of hapless slaves of countless species, and other goods and trade materials inbound for the insatiable appetite of the City of Brass.

Nobody dared to call out to her to stop, the world seeming to shake with every step she took, passing by thousand-foot great airships and castle-bearing dinosaurs nearly the size of kaiju with complete disregard for the inhabitants of either.

Eternals, demigods, Jotuns, otherworldly merchant lords, and princes powerful enough to deal with efreeti nobles opened their mouths to call out in irritation, and then the air shuddered with her next step, and they all shut up.

If they had keen eyes, and most of them did, they could see the statues up top wavering with her steps.

The efreet on duty could not help but be impressed by her striding past the queue, something that only avatars of the Divine might do and expect to pass freely. A titan was powerful, yes, but this one bore no marks of a Divine Herald or something similar, it was just she was so, so, so overwhelming...

Everyone gawked up at her face without eyes, only a painted Mask, while six other eyes glowed across her forehead like jewels to supplement the ornate tiara that wound about her horns and frill, blazing with fire and lightning, spotlight and fireworks for her beauty.

The Commander of the Gate of the Smelted, a favored of the Sultan of the Efreet, his position one of great importance in the City of the Efreet, came out to stare at her with everyone else as she approached.

That sort of magnificence and ominous power was something a noble efreet might throw away a lifetime of striving to possess for themselves...

Glossy black skin, silken-white hair like a fine cape, draconic wings gleaming with Celestial Runes, nine stinger-tipped tails moving with eye-catching sensuality, eyes looking in all directions at once, and a figure like that...

The Commander of the Gate swallowed with every other male and female around as she tilted her head and looked down at him and his elite guards staring up at her.

“We come on behalf of The Shrouded Lady.” Many of those listening almost swooned to hear her voice, sensual and powerful and commanding and so many other things, on so many levels. “We have a delivery for the House of Azzar.”

Instantly, the pressure began to build on the Commander, like a mountain was starting to fall in his direction, and he was abruptly and totally sure that whether he granted permission or not, she was going to stride right past him on her duty, and if he tried to stop her, she might just trample the gates down.

He hadn’t heard of her mistress, but Creation was vast. Who knew what power was birthed in some other plane, dimension, or sphere? They were powerful enough to command this titan here, someone powerful enough that the Sultan Himself would covet her!

The Commander stepped aside helplessly. “Of course!” he bowed diplomatically, unable to stop himself from such deference, the titan’s Aura a tower of strength that was making his heart skip to feel it. “If I could but get the lady’s name, and the entry fee...”

She twitched a finger, and an ingot of gold massing half a ton plummeted to the ground out of nowhere, crunching into the stones heavily. “We are Legion, and We know the way.”

The Commander swallowed as she strode past, every step shaking earth and sky, yet all grace and swaying attractiveness that made his burning throat dry with desire as she passed by, and her tails played hypnotically, caressing the back of his burning eyeballs.

Completely ignoring the prohibitions against such things, her massive wings spread wide, and butterfly Runes of stunning beauty lit up with the power of Heaven and the Elements. She took to wing, in the direction of the holdings of the Azzar.

She was not supposed to be able to DO that, and yet she had. The Commander swallowed again, but like the others, did not look away until the smoke and fogs of interplaying residence areas removed her from view, and it felt like a silken grip on his thoughts and mind was slowly released.

He gestured for the gold to be taken away, and several of his soldiers came together to lift the bar of glittering, pure metal, paid so dismissively that it was plain it was nothing to them, yet it represented a fine, fat bribe that would pay for many pleasures on his behalf.

He knew he would be visiting the pleasure palaces and demanding ebon-skinned, white-haired beauties soon, his thoughts dancing with dreams and desires...

-------

The Azzar were naturally alerted that a most singular titan was coming, but were still astonished at the speed at which she arrived, taking little more than an hour to traverse more than a thousand miles before the ornate saray gates of atargold and eshbronze that bore the burning pentagram crest of the Azzar, one of the many noble families of the efreet.

“We have come to the House of Azzar from The Shrouded Lady, with a delivery for Bey Garar’Azzar!” her Voice boomed out, the air and stones vibrating for miles around with the power of it.

Perhaps they had meant to slowly reply and delay the opening of the doors to show their restraint and power, but there was an instant creaking as jumpy Fire Jotun guards, their blood boiling and hearts racing, heaved open the doors with creaking chains and gears, and their efreet officers didn’t even think to stop them.

The great coal-skinned jotuns in their heavy eshbronze breastplates, greaves, and crested helms could only stare at the titan as she strode in, barely coming up to her waist, feeling the weight of her Stature bearing down on their lesser bloodlines, and the pure primal strength rolling off her with every step, heavy enough to shake earth and sky, yet not marking the polished lava tiles below her hooves in the slightest.

“A-Allow us to escort you, great Lady!” the foremost officer managed to gasp out, hurriedly gesturing for them all to form up in an honor guard. The normally surly Fire Jotuns pounded up eagerly to obey, broadly muscular bodies straightening up with the honor as they snapped up huge poleaxes and arranged themselves to either side and before the titan with great pride at this opportunity.

Of course, this was a Jotun honor guard, and that meant it had to be loud. Iron-clad boots slammed down in precise synch, perfectly matched by every other stride of the titan; halberds beat, and the low bass of the Jotuns’ chants seemed to only add to the pressure in the air, like an avalanche was somehow falling slowly down the grand approach avenue of the Saray Azzar.

The overseeing efreeti aghas puffed themselves up in their spikes and capes and golden ornaments, flying alongside as grandly as they could, totally overshadowed by the presence of the titan, like minor ornaments to her slow and stately pace.

The display of the wealth and grandeur of the Azzar became a mere backdrop for the arrival of this titan, and the Azzar and their slaves and servants were quickly turning out on balconies and stands and side plazas to see her walking by, all of them gaping as they did so.

Then, like a burning river, the noble efreet flooded toward the Divan Azzar, where their Pasha was frantically preparing to receive this messenger.

Who was coming for Bey Garar’Azzar?!...

----------

Bey Garar’Azzar stared at the vision of light and darkness coming up the broad walk with a mixture of disbelief and surprise.

Like everyone else here, he could not take off his eyes off her, but he could not remember where he had seen her before.

No, not her. He was suddenly struck by the idea that he was definitely looking at far more than one being. She was a Them, not some conceited royalty...

Hah, royalty could only wish to be like Them...

He was missing so many years of his life when he had abruptly reappeared at the family saray, and had no explanation for his missing years at all.

No accruals, no benefits; decades of time with nothing to show for it. The mockery from his kin at the lack of accomplishments had been there in their gazes, glances, and body language, although carefully kept from their words.

After all, he looked like he’d served time in the arena, as scarred and muscular as he was. Even if he remembered nothing, it was plain he’d fought, and the first few duels from the curious had confirmed that he was unseemly strong and fast.

There was only a Ring upon his finger to mark what had passed, and nothing more.

While his holdings and rank had not been removed, his lack of progress had effectively isolated him from the Court as punishment for such ‘laziness’. The loss of those years made him irritable, and his willingness to take that out on those who crossed him had not made him any friends.

Even the Fire Jotuns didn’t idly take him on now.

Now, the wandering son had a visitor of this stature coming to see him.

He had no idea who the Shrouded Lady was, as the servants had whispered They served, but his gaze fell upon the umbragold Ring upon his finger, and he wondered...

The Fire Jotuns tromped up before the great doors to the court, parting smoothly and mechanically, as if all they did all day was march escort duty, backs straighter and prouder than he’d ever seen them display.

The Kiay Bey Olamazzar, a snooty and long-nosed twat who had ingratiated himself with the Pasha centuries before, hurried up himself to do the announcement. “The titan Legion, servant of The Shrouded Lady, enters the Divan Azzar!” he called out as loudly and magnificently as he could, and even Garar admitted that Olamazzar had a fine voice for such court functions.

The great doors were a hundred feet high, as overdone and grandiose as the egos of his people, made to admit some of the greatest Elemental entities if they should choose to come to visit... or nobles of higher rank riding overly large servant creatures to display their own immense egos the better.

Bey Garar smirked on seeing Them stride in, and her tails flicked, shining gold sprinkling down like rain, landing accurately in the startled hands of her escorts.

Atargold medallions, with the very faces of each escort upon their own, and their own names on the back. Probably worth a goldweight each, and as mementos of this moment, doubtless far more. Those who had caught them clutched them tightly, and their chests swelled even more, if that was possible.