He looked across at Gregor, who was cleaning his nails – with a knife.
“You ever read the Liber Florae?” asked Aaden.
“Huh? What? The hell is that?”
“The Book of the Orchids, by another name.”
“Religion? No, I never quite got around to it.”
“I’m trying to remember the part about Araxion. Something… something about trees,” said Aaden absentmindedly.
“Arriving at Araxion station. Again, arriving at Araxion station,” came the tinny voice from the speakers.
“Listen, I’ve arranged for a guide to meet you at the Tower. This is your first week back-“
“Gregor –“
“Can you turn off… that thing you do?”
“What thing?”
“Can you not be Uncle Chuckles?”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean”
“Look, first impressions, right? I want you to come off as dark and powerful, not the uncle from the Wolfstag feast who keeps making jokes!”
Aaden looked slightly stunned. “I’m not going to a press conference, Gregor. I’m touring Mindon Araxion. If this guide doesn’t laugh at my jokes it will go very poorly for him.”
They were met at the gates by a weedy man who looked as if he spent too much time indoors. The large, circular reading glasses were dwarfed by the oversized blue “i” on his lapel. He inclined his head as a sign of respect.
“Your Grace,” he said, “my name is William Gardiner, Head of Tours. It is a pleasure to meet a real Allot.”
“There are many fake Allots?”
“More than you would think,”
“Bill?” said Aaden hopefully, extending a hand.
“William, if you please, Your Grace.”
“Well, Will, the Ducal line ended quite some time ago, if I understood the MicrasWiki article correctly, so I don’t think I’m anyone’s grace”.
“Yes, Your Lordship.”
William motioned that they should follow, and walked briskly up the hill towards the tower, with Aaden and Gregor in tow.
“Gardiner, eh?” said Aaden, easily matching William’s strides.
“My family name, Your Lordship.”
“And yet here you stand, unrepentant and with a distinct lack of gardening
supplies.”
“Uncle Chuckles…” muttered Gregor, as they meandered down the road.
The stones of Araxion had glowed, once, if the Book was to be believed. But centuries of neglect and harsh Elwynn winters had whipped at the tower until it lost most of its sheen. The landscape was still extraordinary, but it seemed less … majestic. Also, one of the outer walls appeared to have been completely blown apart.
"Last time I heard, this tower had four walls," said Aaden, striding over to the gaping hole. There was a small, gold-plated plaque beside the breach.
This hole was created by Malliki Tosha via several tons of dynamite. The original wall has yet to be found.
“Are you a reading man, your Lordship?”
“There wasn’t much else to do up north,” replied Aaden.
“But you’ve read nothing of the history of Elwynn?”
“Although the library was commendably well-stocked, I don’t think they wished me to get… ideas. So no, those books were conspicuously absent.”
“Ah. Well then, I think your great-grandfather viewed the act as a sort of friendly ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’, and never got around to repairing it,” said William.
"The stupidity of history never ceases to amaze me. Let's get that fixed up, shall we? The point of walls is to keep people out, not let drafts in."
“Ah, sarcasm, the gentleman’s weapon,” quipped William.
“You just remember that the 3rd Elwynnbrigaden works for me,” said Aaden sternly.
“Yes, Your Lordship.”
They followed the path to the tower, which loomed even higher as they drew close to it. Aaden drew a hand one of the massive stones and picked out a speck of rock.
“It looks like concrete,” he said, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“The grayness of the stone is mostly due to neglect and age,” said William.
“There are some who think that the state of the tower is a reflection of the greater country. Peasant superstition, although certainly the stones were white at some point. If you’ll follow me, sir,” he said. Aaden was reluctantly dragged away from his miniature excavation. As they entered the Great Hall,
Aaden spotted a grand, shining throne, sparkling with a thousand tiny diamonds. It was almost blinding.
"What is that monstrosity?” he said, raising a hand to shield his eyes.
“Er… that is a replica of the Crystal Throne, designed by Nyall Anansi, the famous artist. It is only for viewing purposes, of course. Sitting in it would be sacrilege. Uh, Your Lordship?”
“It goes. I don’t care where.”
“Your Lordship?”
“It is anachronistic at best. The Crystal Throne was never in Araxion–“
“No, Your Lordship, it was in Ennabruk. Which sadly is not available to us.”
Aaden smiled. “Quite the scholar, our Billy. Still, it should be moved somewhere else, so as not to provide the slightest illusion that the master of this tower is worthy to sit on Paragon’s throne”.
Gregor’s cell phone buzzed, and there were sounds of rapid whispering.
“If you’ll pardon me my lord,” Gregor interrupted, “There is something I need to deal with,” that was generally code for the necessity of someone needing to be beaten or killed. Gregor continued, “I shouldnt be too long.” He strode briskly from the hall, but Aaden and William were already going up the stairs.
“This way, your Lordship,” came William’s voice from far up ahead. Aaden,
He ascended the stairs, and exited onto a balcony. And stopped.
The sun was setting over the hilly countryside. Far below, the river Elwynn ran smoothly around the tower and away towards the sunset. Oddly, there were no birds chirping, but the silence was the most peace Aaden had experienced in a very long time. It had often been silent in Hyperborea, but that was the silence of containment. This was the silence of freedom. William cleared his throat.
“The Ducal Chamber behind us is the highest chamber, with, may I say, the best view. I’ve spoken to your Chief of Staff and arranged for your affairs to be moved –“
“No,” said Aaden, softly.
“Your Lordship?”
“I’ll take the Steward’s chamber below this one. This room will remain open permanently. Every single person in Elwynn should get the chance to come up here.”
William paused, and then said: “Very well, sir.”
Aaden contemplated the view a while longer.
“William, there’s a passage I’m trying to remember from Floris Primae –“
“Or viewed the towering redwood trees, amazed
Or reveled in the sun's restoring heat
Or gazed upon the stars and lunar sliver
At one with all of Nature's ways and haunts,” he quoted.
“Chapter and verse,” he gazed out at the river Elwynn, far down below them, and the rolling hills beyond. “Was it your job to know that?”
William didn’t answer, but Aaden noticed him suppressing a smile.
So much for Uncle Chuckles, thought Aaden. Neither spoke as Aaden soaked in the landscape.
“What happened to the redwood trees?” he asked, finally. “The ones from the book.”
“Heartwood Industries has recently increased clearcutting in the area, Your Lordship.”
“Really,” said Aaden, with menace. “Heartwood Industries... Well, we’ll have to-”
A throwing star came sailing from the shadows, landing in the wall next to Aaden. He unfortunately understood exactly what that meant. She was back.
“Greetings your Lordship,” called an all too familiar voice from the darkness, “I will bleed you like the dirty swine you are, now that your monstrous manservant is no longer here.”
“How did you –“ began Aaden, but then he stopped. It didn’t take him long.
“The hole in the wall,” he and William chorused.
