Phoenix Stone thought she had put her days at Ashwyn Hall behind her. She thought they had destroyed the evil that lived beneath its' decaying depths. She never imagined that three years later, Ashwyn Hall would call her back.
She should have known Ashwyn Hall was never ready to die.
The old water tower mocks the decaying elegance of Ashwyn Hall like an unsightly blemish on an otherwise flawless model's face. However small and insignificant it may seem from a distance, upon closer inspection it slowly steals your focus until it is all you see.
Strange that this is my first thought as I stare at my old boarding school, or prison, depending on the memories I recall of it. I don't know exactly what it is I feel when I stare at the remains of Ashwyn Hall. Sadness, I guess a little. That is understandable. I did call this place home for quite a while. Happiness that I never have to go back, sure that's there. But fear? Fear is the emotion that surprises me the most.
Ashwyn Hall is dead. We made sure of that.
The dim echo of the Elder Swing makes me think twice.