[Hlaeth] Ch 24 - Other Cultures and Elves

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            I could feel the elven herald’s inner wincing. “I would not speculate on the opinions of the royal family, Magos,” the tall and extremely proper Herald Ilbromel said neutrally. “But it is true that the opinions and accomplishments of Elder Erenthaul won him no favorites at court,” he informed me dryly.

            “Color me unsurprised.” I saluted the statue as I turned away. “I note no works from human hands in this showcasing. Received none, displayed elsewhere, or carefully stored away and only trotted out in special circumstances which haven’t happened for centuries?” I asked lightly.

            “I also am not the steward of the Palace,” he informed me politely, and after a brief hesitation, went on, “I am aware we have received some… diplomatic gifts from human nations in the past. I do not know where they are displayed…”

            “If it is not an imposition, I would like to see a display of such things before I go. It does not have to be set up to impress me. I doubt I would appreciate such work properly. But looking at the art of a culture can give excellent insights into such peoples, and I would see how far humanity has come upon this world… or, at least, what it has fallen from, if the tales I’ve been told are true.”

            “I will make inquiries. While I… doubt the artistic value of the works satisfies the sensibilities of some of the Court, I have no doubt some of the historians can wax mightily on the significance of them.”        

            “Ah, an affliction present in art-lovers of almost all races, I see,” nodding along. “Thank you for the effort, if nothing else.”

            I could see that he was actually surprised at being pleased that his efforts were being recognized. He bowed to me slightly, I nodded back, and we resumed our steps.

---

            There were two more guards in full mithral elven plate and ornate accoutrements standing guard before the doors nigh as motionless as statues.

            They were Fourteens. Door guards. I wanted to hit my head on those doors, but there was too much magic roiling on them, and I didn’t want to trigger an explosion.

            Commander Tellusian and Captain Fyanyl swept out of side passages, completely made over in resplendent formal garb. The Commander was dazzling in gold, silver, and white silks over mithral armor, jewels winking here and there with understated and complementary power and aura, brought together with natural style and grace that made the whole terribly overdone look seem quite natural and only appropriate.

            Captain Fyanyl was in ornate attire in the colors and theme of autumn leaves over extremely lavishly embroidered leathers from some creature I wasn’t sure of and wasn’t going to pry into. It suited her perfectly, and if it looked rustic and naturalistic next to the metals and gems of the Gold Elven commander, well, that was probably exactly the idea.

            I noticed both of them had kept their swords, too. It appeared that formal military attire meant keeping your weapons close to you, too, even in the presence of royalty.

            “How do you wish to be introduced, Master Aelryinth?” the Herald asked me, turning to face me before the great doors.

            “Hmm,” I said, tilting my head up, while reaching out and snapping my fingers.

            I did have ‘formal attire’. I almost never used it, because why? I could completely overawe most people in my standard uniform if I desired to.

            But this place was obsessive about appearances, and a rustic bum of a human wizard, dressed so plainly as I was, was obviously not setting the right mood.

            Hey, it was their Court. I could play along with them.

            My seeming cotton loose-sleeved tunic, vest, and pants swirled and went away, replaced by a formal suitcoat in off-jet black, blindingly white undershirt, cumberbund, and perfectly pressed pants, all made of phase spider shimmersilk. My Monarch’s Sash appeared in jet and silver, while my Amulet settled in at my throat, silver Sword and Moon on a starfield.

            My Boots gleamed adamantine-edged black dragonhide. My Rings shone on my fingers proudly, the Bracers under my sleeves were polished adamantine. Runes danced on the plates on my fingerless Gloves, pulsing gold against adamantine and dragonhide.

            My Chasuble lit up, the quiet black of the silk turning celeste, the symbols of the Powers and Virtues inscribed upon it lighting up like suns.

            My Twilight Crown materialized out of the white of my hair, Sylune’s Favor beginning to burn subtly with moonfire. Fire and lightning wound about the Crown’s spires with a purity that sang to the eye.

            There was a swirl as I donned my Heartscale Cloak. The eyes of the elves threatened to pop out as they realized what all the different scales there actually were.

            Even the Glasses that were there just to cover my eyes were full of stars. Feature himself was suddenly jet edged in silver, radiating a compressed power and strength that completely belied his casual position across my shoulders.

            The biggest thing was, of course, my Staff.

            Mortus Dius suddenly was no longer a thing of gray crystal dotted with motes and impurities. Instead, it was now a terribly clear and painfully perfect carving of countless facets and glittering internal plays of power, internal imperfections now obvious as crystalline nodes of power and conduits of Runework running through them.

            The silver and jet Orb atop it flowed celeste, nebulas and auroras swirling slowly within it.

            Three notes rang out.

            ÆL. Ry. Inth.

            Truth. Hope. Valor.

            All the blood drained from the Herald’s face. He was abruptly aware, as were the other four elves there, that I wasn’t really putting on anything.

            I was taking away what had been hidden from them, and showing them what was there all along.

            “I am the Magos Aelryinth of Heaven, from the world of Terra-Luna.”

            The manafield sang out for me as the Sublime Chords lit up, and not even the strongest and most complex Legus could stop me from announcing myself.

            “My Dragon-name is glaus nûrg mönt.

            “My Fey Name is the Wyrd of the Four Seasons.

            “I am a Master Archtheurge of Eight Traditions.

            “I am the Monarch of the Allegiance of the Steel, and the fifteen million souls who follow my Banner.

            “I am a Lord and Master of Staves, a Lord and Master of Rings, a Lord and Master of Scepters, and a Lord and Master of Pyramids.

            “I am a Sage of Focus.

            “I am a Champion of Creation, by fiat of my homeworld.

            “I am Crowned quarce Worldflames by worlds not my own.

            “My Bloodline is the fires of the Arcane and the glory of the Void Phoenix, and my Path of Magic is Silver Magic.

            “I am come to the Royal Court of the Aldari at the invitation of their King and Queen, in the company of honorable soldiers of the Kingdom, Tellusian of House Phyarl and Fyanyl of Clan Lusilltyr.

            “May I enter your place of power?”

            Herald Ilbromel could not believe he’d been looking down on me, and looked like he wanted to melt into the wall and just go away. The attending guards, meant to impress me, looked like they really wanted to turn into statues.

            I didn’t like doing this kind of thing normally. Most beings are simply not prepared to confront a Sixteen who is High, Deep, and Wide.

            My Diplomacy check used my Perform (Oratory) skill, a Heartsong effect. The modifier was north of +100. When I spoke and wanted to be heard, I was going to be heard. Tongues riding my Magevoice meant that everybody understood exactly what I said as I wanted it to be understood, too, and me knowing Truth meant they knew exactly how much of what I said was untrue, i.e., nothing.

            My Charisma was 51. That was also something that I didn’t much show off. With Charisma alone, I could drive a normal man to their knees just walking by. It was hard for people to think anytime I was in the area with it going full bore, because I just demanded their attention.

            The elves wanted a show and to look down on humans? This wasn’t my world, so if I needed to flex a bit, I could do so.

            “You may enter.”

            The voice was melodious, strong, assured… and understood that without an invitation I was going to turn around and walk away.

            The doors parted before me, and I started forward. My two escorts didn’t even realize they were following me until we were well into the hall.

            I had to admit, it was a gorgeous sight. To the left was a grand view of windows looking over the royal gardens, displaying the full beauty of a riotous and colorful botanical wonder. To the right, the wall was covered with a glorious fresco detailing the grand and glorious history of the Aldari people and the noble Houses that had founded it.

            Above was the night sky, glorious, full, unfiltered, sharper and clearer than standing outside. Stars and constellations I knew nothing of crossed the heavens with breath-taking beauty, and the Sun was but the biggest of stars among a great heavenly court.

            The symbolism was hard to miss, but it didn’t matter too much to me. The stars my Gear was showing weren’t their stars.

            My base effective Caster Level of 50 pushed back against their Legus as I walked down the green carpet over tile of gold and silver-veined marble. The nobles of the Court wavered and fell back from me.

            As the disbelieving elven nobles retreated from the power and presence I was radiating, the glamours they used to accent their own incredibly beautiful and fashionable attire faltered and became obvious, the delightful and impossible beauty of their clothing and appearances failing and suddenly easy to see through.

            At least a couple of the risque ones were basically wearing little more than gossamer undergarments they’d hung stylish illusions on…

            There was a lot of magic and a lot of material wealth on display among them, but nothing individually that was anywhere close to what I was displaying. There were a lot of post-Tens among them, and some of them indeed exceeded my Height.

            Nobody matched my Depth or Width to any degree at all, and they knew it. Magically, I was a dense and muscular elemental winding my way through vaporous and liquid peers, only a few of them even rivaling my size, let alone my solidity.

            The Sublime Chord rang on all their Gear, making all their spells and Artifice obvious to me, and indeed, just about everyone. It was a lot of magic, some of it very old and very powerful… and it just didn’t matter.

            I might not be an Eternal, but I had a working Caster Level that absolutely nobody in this room could match in the slightest. That included the eldritch old High Mage standing at the side of the two thrones, one golden and one silver, elevated on a dais that levitated a foot off the floor, because why not do so? A great ruby the size of my head rested in the golden throne, and a sapphire of similar size in the silver throne.

            The Aldari King was standing in front of the golden throne, obviously the sun of the kingdom, while the Queen, also standing to receive me, represented the guiding moon and moderation in contrast to him. Whether that was true or not was immaterial, it was the symbolism here.

            The King and Queen were both Gold elves, taller than most other elves I’d seen, easily my own height or close to it. Both had ageless beauty, and their attire was a spare simplicity of silks and organic patterns of crystal and metal that hid increasing complexity and effortless elegance the more one studied them. The Legus of the chamber swirled around them, bound to their wills, but it still could not approach me or bind me, despite attempts subtle and firm to push back at my influence here.

            Eldritch looked very uncomfortable as he tried to undermine my influence, worrying at it on some subtle underlevels that might actually have results if I wasn’t a living breathing not-a-fool who could respond to his efforts.

            The other High Mages I’d met before were all present, along with a trio of others I’d not seen before. None of them looked particularly enthusiastic that I was now standing in front of their King and Queen, and still able to use magic.

            The Royals themselves were both High Mages, and regarding me very intently, indeed. The Legus was trying to tell them more about me, and it wasn’t working because it was an Eternal Spell, which defaulted to X in effect and thus was blocked by an Astral Ward Cast at VIII+1.

            They could only see what they could see, and what they saw was rather impressive, I was pretty sure.

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