The gardens of Ayre seem to sing lightly to themselves, a distant wispy chime or hum fills the air in the lightest of breezes up there upon the hillock that the Manor encompasses. Its tallest point is a ridge worked out over the surrounding landscape with a sound structure built high enough to call attention to the coming lightning in every storm. From the air, the garden looks to be made into mazes and strange runic lines, but from the ground it only looks like walls, paths, and cleverly worked garden art.

From the Manor, two broad double doors of stained glass and copper works open outwards into the garden, allowing themselves at times to be propped open to bring the day's breeze to the marble mansion. They open into a marble tiled clearing, perfect for entertaining from the main halls, surrounded by short scrubby trees, stone benches, and a simple small fountain at its center. The fountain is an abstract art statue, made up of violent angles and a simple tired swirl of multi colored dark stone.

The path winds away from the clearing on into the main areas of the wide garden. The occasional scant tree resides here, offering a cooling shade, and yet never being very high for its stunted root system upon the rock mass that the manor is built. Should one ever dig down six inches or more, not only will they find solid rock bed, but also a curious deadly copper wire mesh, holding out any creature seeking entrance from below with a shocking current and cutting sharpness. Little to say, there are no moles or the like.

Along the trail are many alcoves, secret places hedged in by short brush, walls of stone no taller than a man covered in artfully arranged vines and trellises. All flowers found in this garden are white in color, their leaves a deep green. There are two places within the path however, that one may find a black rose bush. Treated with rarity and cherished care.

Through the garden lies a man-made brook, its water recycled at the small base pond and fed back magically to its source. A long winding trail that nourishes the garden and offers up its music with the wind instruments found along it. The latter seeming what this garden is geared around.

Varying heights of tubes, suspended and half burred in some cases, cut with odd shapes to catch the wind and harness its silent tune litter the garden. Almost like humming monuments or perhaps even shrines to the air itself, they gut up with their praises in artfully arranged circles, waves, squares, and chimes around every nook and cranny of the gardens.

From each bough of the short trees, or from the arcs of gates and trellises are hung silvery blue wind chimes, so like the earring that the garden's master wears. Each radiates a cool magic, keeping back the icy cold that should be found at such a height, and providing a nearly temperate climate for the plants to grow in. Little to say, the garden is filled always by a gentle song of chime, whistle, and soft hums. It is a place of magic, a simple harmless energy, with a potential to defend itself should the need come.

And finally, to the high point of the garden, at the end of the directive pathways, comes that spire. It seems nearly a mauske for its height and shape, standing there so cold that occasionally it frosts when nothing around it does. A deep working of copper wiring is at its core, its point reveals this with its shining copper cap, just calling to the sky, taunting it, asking that sky to produce something more than its Master can perhaps. It is clearly a thing of magic, evocation, destructive magics as well as a gifted sculptress understanding of the elements. There are runic patterns carved into its black marble surface, these light into a cool blue when the wind blows, and a darker pulsing blue when a storm is near. This center peice is surrounded by nearly fifty feet of nothing, and then a curve of stone seats around it, and a hedge of dense yet stunted trees that come no where near the height of the structure. It must have no competition for its imputant thrust towards the sky.