[PP - F28][ST][RH] Lessons Learned

[Lessa 1]

Raven Hollow
Schoolhouse
Sunset

The schoolhouse stood silent among the trees, and the lack of sound was strangely unsettling. For so many years, the schoolhouse had been alive with laughter, voices raised in song, and the merry clang of the bell signaling the day's beginning and end. But there was no laughter, and no voices; the final rays of the dying sun shot straight through the gap where the bell once hung. Now the tower stood empty, as empty as the rest of the building's single room. Shattered glass turned the school's windows into the gaping maws of sharp-toothed monsters, and the way the front door hung from its hinges suggested there would be no protection from the impending night's chill.

That would be inaccurate, however. At the center of the room, nestled between two rows of scarred, wooden desks, sat a squat wood-burning stove. Heat rolled from the black cast-iron casing, and the flames inside the grate sent shadows dancing playfully across the walls. The light also illuminated the chalkboard, and the precise, elegant script written upon it.

Spoiler

<<Storyteller System in Effect - Acting as Storyteller>>
True Level: 110 / True Tier: 11

 

[Morningstar 0]

[MORNINGSTAR & WILLOW]
— lvl 101 | tier 11 —

Willow poked her head through a broken window. Shadows danced along the walls, cast by a lit wood stove near the back. Her heart raced. “If ghosts were real, this would be the place to find them.”

“Ghosts are real,” Morningstar said firmly.

The howling wind drove them inside. Fire crackled at the end of the room; the floorboards creaked and groaned with each step they took.

Willow knelt close to the stove, soothing her icy fingers. “It’s ambient. Floor 29 has a similar effect. You can find lanterns in places where nobody lives,” she explained.

Morningstar frowned. Words drawn on the chalkboard drew him near. “Cellar door” was written elegantly in white chalk. He looked about the room, expecting a basement doorway, but the small schoolhouse had only one obvious entrance. Burying his hands in his jacket, Star traced his steps back through the front doors.

“Where are you going?”

“I Just want to check something. I’ll be two seconds.”

The doors shut, and Willow was alone. Grass crunched outside, following the outline of the building and stopping when Morningstar reached the back. Even next to the stove, Willow’s hands shook. Shadows crept along the walls, growing with the flicker of the fire. She kept her eyes trained on it while she listened for his footsteps. The breeze often tricked her. Sometimes, she would hear his voice, only to realize that it was the wind whispering through the windows.

She wanted to call out to him, but her voice wavered, caught in her throat. How long had he been gone for? And what was taking him so long?

The doors swung open and she jumped.

Morningstar stepped inside and the breath she’d been holding finally slipped out. He pulled his coat tightly around himself and made his way over to Willow. “It’s weird that the board would say ‘cellar door’ if there isn’t a cellar door.”

Willow took a look at the chalkboard, jumping again as the front doors settled.