As I stepped into the lift, anticipation surged through my veins, for I was about to embark on a journey to the top floor of the Hightower, the tallest structure in all of Reach. It'd been quite some time since I'd ventured there. As the gears whirred and the lift began its ascent, a world of marvels unfolded before my eyes.
The sprawling city of Oldtown, a tapestry of ancient architecture and vibrant life, revealed itself in all its glory. From above, the honey-colored buildings lined the cobblestone streets like regal sentinels, their facades adorned with intricate carvings and embellishments. The city buzzed with activity, as merchants bartered in market squares, scholars strolled along the banks of the Honeywine, and the faithful flocked to the sept, their prayers rising like whispers in the wind.
The sunlight bathed Oldtown, casting a golden glow upon its winding alleys and grand plazas, where musicians played their melodies and children laughed in delight. And beyond the city's borders, the shimmering expanse of the Whispering Sound stretched endlessly, its azure waters merging with the horizon, beckoning adventurers and dreamers alike
As the lift continued its ascent, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of awe and reverence for the city that had stood for centuries, a testament to the enduring spirit of my house and the realm of Westeros itself.
It took at least 15 minutes to reach the top.
As the lift creaked to a halt on the uppermost floor of the Hightower, a mixture of curiosity and anxiety coursed through my veins. It had been eight long months since I last set foot on this level, and the air crackled with an undeniable aura of timelessness. The aura of ancientness was at its zenith here. The grand oak doors stood before me, etched with intricate sigils and veiled in an enigmatic air. My heart pounded within my chest as I summoned the courage to enter, adrenaline from being this high coursing through my veins.
Pushing open the doors, I stepped into a world that seemed untouched by the passage of time. The room was bathed in a soft, ethereal light filtering through stained-glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns upon the ancient tomes that lined the towering shelves. Dust particles danced lazily in the air, giving the chamber an otherworldly quality. As I ventured further, the scent of aged parchment and musty books enveloped me, an intoxicating perfume that spoke of countless hours spent in scholarly pursuits.
Then, amidst the hushed whispers of forgotten lore, I caught sight of them. There, seated at a table strewn with ancient scrolls and crackling parchments, were my grandfather, Lord Leyton Hightower, and my aunt, Malora. Time had not been kind to them; grandfather's once-golden mane had turned to silver, and aunt's eyes bore the weariness of countless nights spent delving into the depths of the unknown. Their gazes were distant and focused, their minds seemingly lost in realms beyond our own.
Tentatively, I approached, breaking the silence that hung in the room. Grandfather's eyes, once bright with vitality, fixed upon me with a mixture of recognition and surprise. Aunt Malora greeted me with a whisper of a smile.
I bowed and said "It's good to see you grandfather and you too aunt". They both stood up and beckoned me closer. Grandfather greeted me with a smile and said "Finally came up to see the old lord" and I replied "Well seeing as you are secluded as a recluse here, I had to be the one to venture".
"You look as lovely as ever Aunt" I said to aunt after we embraced. Aunt didn't like to touch, so I kept it short. "Charming" she said with a drawl. Oh, what I would be willing to sacrifice in exchange for taking away the sarcasm of my aunts.
We made our way towards my grandfather's office. Grandfather removed some books from his desk and stored them in drawers. I could only see the titles of two of them, Watchers on the Wall by Archmaester Harmune and True History by Maester Seraphine Ravenspire. After he had sat behind his desk, my aunt and I took our places on the chairs in front of it. "Tea?" she asked but I declined. She poured cups for herself and grandfather while I sliced a pear taken from a basket nearby.
"So are you going to finally tell me what great conspiracy you are devising?" I asked while they were sipping their respective cups.
"What's the point of revealing a half-conceived masterplan?" replied aunt. I huffed and looked towards grandfather instead.
"Tell me Edmund, what do you think the hightower is?" was his reply. A question replied with a question. Maybe this was as hopeless as everyone had said it was.
"A tower of stone that has endured the eons" I half questioned and half replied.
"True but it's much more than that. There are mysteries here, Edmund. Mysteries your aunt and I are trying to reveal. We do not desire to be called mad, that's why we will not be explaining anything until we have something tangible to show" He said.
Well that makes sense I suppose. If I was onto a great mystery, then I too would be keeping it close to my heart until I had anything real to show for my efforts.
I huffed again and said "Fine, keep it close to your hearts" I was acting like a petulant child rather than the man of 16 I was but I wanted to finally know it.
I then informed them of my journey with the patrol to deal with the bandits. "Ah the bandits" said grandfather. "Baelor has told me about them. Very peculiar for them to venture this close to Oldtown." Aunt then said " A brave band or maybe a foolish one. The line seems to be a rather thin one. Your journey would determine where they fall on that line, Ed." I replied with a half grin "It's the foolish kind, I hope".
We then talked about other things. From my king's landing visit to Allie and the boys' antics. We talked about all my uncles and aunts except for aunt Lynesse. For that was a topic of shame we all avoided like a plague. A Hightower courtesan, for I refused to call her a whore.
Using different words in my head won't lower the shame but it lessens the blow. If only a little. A Hightower lady living as a concubine to a merchant "prince". To a slaver. A humiliation of the highest sorts.
Why didn't aunt just leave Mormont and join us back here, I'd never know. Sure some may mock her for coming back to her father's house after that debacle but no one would say anything to her face. But now she resides as a concubine in Lys.
I knew that grandfather still grieved for his daughter and blamed himself most of all. He thinks that he shouldn't have let her marry Mormont. He is right in hindsight, but he couldn't have known that.
He was a father who wanted to let his youngest marry for love. That's not something to be blamed. His older children had all secured valuable marriages to houses of great stature, to let his youngest have control over her heart was not something to be faulted.
My heart ached at the thought of aunt Lynesse, forever etched in the annals of our family's shame. The shame of her choices cast a long shadow over our family, staining our name and reputation. The whispers of the courtiers had mostly died down, but the ache will never truly fade away.
I remember her playing with me when I was five or six name days old. Even though she had ten years on me she still used to make time. I'll always remember her as the fun loving aunt who gave me cakes and played 'run-till-you-can' with me. It's hard for a noble child to get playmates, especially for a Hightower heir with no other cousins near his age.
Now was not the time to get lost in thoughts of despair though. So we talked for hours, and after finally catching up to everything that we possibly could with each other, I decided that it was time to descend again.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please review.
REVIEWS:
Fallenrouz: Thank you. Edmund likes to read books but he doesn't have a particularly special interest in the mysteries of the world. Although since the time he realized that his grandfather and aunt are trying to solve a mystery millennia old, he has developed somewhat of an interest in old tomes, if only for the sake of figuring out what they are after.