High atop a slender tower is a simple stone landing open to the elements. A staircase in its surface winds down, back to the House of Falling Leaves. But here, atop the Elfinfane, reality vanishes: rising high above the clouds the towers seems at first - the rolling white sea then parting like a gentle mist to reveal the land as it was, or as it can be.
Here, there is no now, no then and no there, only frozen choices yet to thaw, or paths never taken.
It is here that Ariel, the Lady of the House, seeks wisdom and oracle, tales of what was under the gentle light of stars, or news of what is to come in the fading light of sunset. To those she takes up to the Elfinfane, those that witness a blanket of stormclouds when emerging on the platform, they will witness a vision of their own unhappy and painful doom.