The ancient grounds were wrapped in fog, a chill air hung over the deadened stone ruins as Agatha followed her mother closely amidst the ghostly wisps trailing through the mist. The white robes she and her mother wore stood in stark contrast to the gray world which surrounded them, broken by splashes of green and brown where bits of plant life had begun to consume the ruins. Agatha imagined the swirling mists were ancient spirits, following and watching them, her body shivering from the thought as she moved closer to her mother uncertainly.
“Mother,” she murmured quietly, afraid to disturb the air more than needed. “What are we doing here?”
“We've come to see an old friend.” her mother replied calmly as Agatha pressed closer. “I too was afraid the first time your grandmother brought me here, but you will grow accustomed to it with time. You will learn that there is nothing to fear here. Within the ruins of these walls, no evil can tread.”