In the centre of the world, there stands a tower of purest black, carved from the very fabric of the universe. It climbs, so high that it scrapes against the sky, clawing at the clouds themselves. The tower, mighty and strong, could stand up against armies, against monsters, against the very gods themselves if it had to. It marks a power, a presence in the world. It is the home of Aza the Worldwalker, the First Wizard. It was her who carved it, not as a home, but as a weapon, a great arrow shaft to pierce the souls of her enemies and bind them to the ground for an eternity.
They tell of that day in the legends. They tell of the epic clash, how twelve wizards rose to fight the gods, how mountain and ocean came to oppose them, how it was only Aza's return from exile that brought them down. The greatest battle in all of history, ended in a single climactic blow. An end to an age. A beginning of something new.
She lays claim to all lands contained within the shadow of her tower, the sweeping darkness that spreads over the centre of the continent. Of course the cities and lords back off from her will. It would do as good to fight Aza as it would to fight the sun. None could stand against her.
For a moment, the world stood still, poised upon the edge of change. The most powerful of all those who could claim divinity had descended back to mortality. Adorned resplendent with artifacts of power and knowledge arcane, she could do anything. All stood in fear and anxiously waited for her next move. Would she be a tyrant? A saviour? She stood upon the peak of that mighty tower and evaluated the world, and it evaluated her right back.
She did nothing. She did not flex her strength. She fought no wars, shared no great works, involved herself in nothing. She stayed in her tower, watching as cities grew and fell, as men lived and died, as mountains formed and crumbled to dust. She issued no decrees as the centuries slipped by, time passing in the blink of an eye. She said nothing as she was forgotten, as her influence was lost. Why would she? She had everything she needed.
Power can be forgotten. But all who gazed upon that tower, that dark and unnatural thing knew the truth. There is power in this world. And it is out of your hands.