Just beyond the misty moors east of Mystic Village, where the wind howls through craggy mountains and the trees grow a bit sideways from centuries of bluster, stands a peculiar and wind-battered old castle known simply as Windswept. Most wizards pass it by without noticing—thanks to some very ancient and temperamental concealment charms—but locals know better. Old Man Featherstone, the village postmaster, swears he once saw the entire castle vanish into a cloudbank during a thunderstorm. And Toadie Crottle, the barkeep at The Tipsy Toad, insists his grandmother delivered pumpkin pastries there during the Great Blizzard of 1898. Windswept was originally built by the eccentric wizard Bartholomew Thistlewhack, a broom designer who became obsessed with flying “where no broom dared fly.” He chose the mountainside perch to test his earliest prototypes of wind-bending broom charms—many of which exploded or reversed direction mid-air. It’s said the bell tower still bears scorch marks from his infamous broomstick mishap. Over the years, Windswept passed through many curious hands: a family of sky-herding witches who claimed to herd clouds like sheep, a half-goblin meteorologist who installed a floating weather vane the size of a hippogriff, and even a reclusive poet who taught wild unicorns to carry mail. Though no one officially lives there now, strange things still happen around the castle. Mystic Villagers report hearing eerie music on the wind, and sometimes—on stormy nights—you can spot lantern light in the upper windows, flickering like someone is at home. No one knows exactly how Windswept chooses its visitors, but according to village lore, it opens its doors to those who carry a question that only the wind can answer.