Paragon of Destruction

It was a place he would once have thought fit for kings and princes, and the idea that it would be his seemed almost absurd.

Of course, he knew the mansion wouldn’t truly belong to him — a single word from the Matriarch and it would be taken away. But even so, at least for the moment, it was his. And if he was hardly preoccupied with luxury, he wouldn’t reject it, either.

It took the Elder a few minutes to set his servants to work clearing the mansion, and there were far more of them than Arran had expected. At a glance, he thought there were dozens if not more, though he had no idea where they had been hiding earlier.

"You have so many servants here," he said with a puzzled glance at the Elder.

The Elder laughed in response. "A place such as this requires a sizable staff," he replied. He let out a small sigh, then added, "You will find your own servants struggle just to keep it clean."

"My own servants?" Arran looked at the Elder awkwardly. "I don’t have any servants."

The mage sent to accompany him by the Matriarch coughed softly. "Naturally, a full detail of servants and guards will be arranged for you," he said, his tone suggesting that this wasn’t a matter to be discussed in polite company.

"Now then," the Elder said, his voice loud as he changed the subject. "You must be anxious to see your new home. Let’s have a look, shall we?"

Arran responded with an eager nod, and with that, the old man began to show him the mansion.

It wasn’t long before Arran found himself shocked by the sheer size of it. He’d already seen that the building was large, of course, but only now did he begin to understand just how massive it actually was.

There were numerous offices, bedrooms, dining rooms, sitting rooms, studies, libraries, and a plethora of other spaces whose purpose eluded him. From what he could tell, the building could easily accommodate hundreds of people — and that was without including the servants’ quarters, which would fit hundreds more.

Yet that was only the beginning.

"Now that you’ve seen the upper levels, let’s take a look at the lower levels," the Elder said. "I suspect you will find those more interesting — and a fair bit more useful, as well."

The Elder guided them to a steep stone staircase in an inconspicuous corner of the mansion’s bottom floor, then said, "This is the main path into the basement, though not the only one. Actually..."

He frowned, then produced a small amulet from a void bag and handed it to Arran.

"This details the more discreet paths within the building. I suppose I no longer require it." As Arran accepted the amulet, he gestured at the staircase. "Follow me."

He began to descend the staircase, Arran following close behind.

The staircase was far longer than Arran had expected. The basement the Elder had mentioned was located at least several hundreds of feet below the mansion, buried deep within the rocks of the mountains.

They finally reached the bottom of the staircase, finding a hallway. Although it was shrouded in darkness, Arran’s Sense and Shadowsight told him that the space was vast, hundreds of paces across with dozens of doors on either side of it.

The Elder waved a hand, and a moment later numerous small crystal orbs lit up along the sides of the hallway, illuminating the area in a soft light.

"There are several things here that will be of interest to you," he said, then began to detail the facilities in the basement — though, to Arran’s eyes, it was more of a dungeon than a basement.

There were half a dozen training rooms, each featuring strong wards that would allow a mage to train without worry of causing damage. If the Elder could be believed, even an Archmage would struggle to destroy them.

The basement also held a small library, a study, an alchemical laboratory, and various other features, along with two dungeon cells — both empty, to Arran’s relief.

Yet while some of it would certainly be useful — especially the training rooms — Arran could not help but think the Elder had exaggerated the basement’s value. For all intents and purposes, it merely seemed to be adding more rooms to a mansion that had plenty of them already.

The Elder glanced at him, an amused glint in his eye. "You seem unconvinced," he said, smirking slightly. "But there’s one more thing you should know."

With a gesture at their surroundings, he continued, "All of this was built below the Valley’s wards. Nobody can spy on you here — whatever happens here is hidden even from the Matriarch." He shot a glance at the mage who accompanied them, then hurriedly added, "Not that you need to hide anything from her, of course."

Arran nodded thoughtfully, already considering the many ways he would be able to use the place. He would have to ask Brightblade if the Elder was correct, of course, but if he was, then the dungeon would be exceedingly useful.

There was one thing the Elder hadn’t yet mentioned, however. At the end of the hallway lay another staircase that led even deeper into the ground.

"What’s down there?" Arran asked.

The Elder’s expression instantly turned uncomfortable. "That," he said slowly, "leads to the Depths. One of my predecessors built it, though for what reason I cannot say. Naturally, it’s warded every bit as well as the Valley itself, though I would still suggest staying clear of it."

The words meant little to Arran, but he sensed the subject was one the Elder would not gladly discuss any further. Another question for Brightblade, then — one among many.

"But let’s not linger here any longer," the Elder said. "I still have to show you the gardens, and I expect you will particularly like the hot spring. Come along."

Without any further words, the old man led the small group back up the stairs.

The gardens turned out to be everything Arran could have hoped for. There were several large training fields that were perfect for practicing swordsmanship, along with a handful of wide patios among the well-kept plants and trees.

As the Elder had predicted, Arran was especially pleased with the hot spring. He could Sense that its steamy waters were brimming with Natural Essence, and as Elder Niklas explained, they supposedly held additional restorative properties as well.

"But I think I’ve shown you all need to know," the Elder finally said. "My servants should be just about done clearing out the mansion, so I won’t take up any more of your time. Doubtless, we’ll see each other again soon enough."

He said some more words in goodbye, though his voice held more than a hint of impatience. It seemed that he was eager to take possession of his new tower in the city.

Arran, for his part, was every bit as eager to see the old man leave. The day’s events had left him weary, and he could barely wait to be left alone.

It still took the Elder and his many servants some time to clear out the mansion — though they left behind a large amount of furniture and several libraries worth of books — but finally, the last of them walked through the gate.

Only Arran and the mage sent by the Matriarch remained behind, and as they walked the mansion’s grounds, the man gave Arran a studious look.

"I suspect you would like some time to adjust to your new surroundings," he said. "It will take me some hours to gather a detail of servants and guards, but until then, get some rest. Once your training starts, I expect you will have little opportunity for that."

He turned to leave, then briefly glanced back at Arran. "You like women, right?"

"What?" Arran gave the man a non-plussed stare. "I suppose so, but why..."

He had no chance to finish the sentence, however, as the man had already left.

While the mage’s final question caused him some confusion, he quickly set the matter aside. If this was his last chance to rest before his training began, he would make good use of it. Without a second thought, he headed to the hot spring.

He sighed contentedly when he slid into the hot water, feeling its Natural Essence nourish his body. Whatever the months ahead would bring, at least he would be able to spend his free time in comfort.

Between the eventful day and the warm embrace of the hot spring, the relaxation proved too much for Arran — within seconds, he felt his mind slipping, and just a few moments later he was fast asleep.