Battle Hymn of the Republic

“Mind your language,” Ruarc warned with a scowl, as he wondered if Willow was a bad influence on his apprentice. Then with a quick clear of his throat he looked back out and up towards the sky.

“You’d be astounded how many times hubris plays a role, in that it is so sure of itself that it doesn’t worry about being glimpsed here and there. Could be it is unsure of where what it is looking for is, and is thus looking for clues. But, another option is that it is intentionally being a bit more obvious. The third option being a combination of the first two.”

From the door compartment Ruarc produced another set of maps. Unfurled, they were of different regions, and a look at the labels and existing notations showed they were detailing the prior, and potentially unrelated, cases.

“The first incident is rather random,” the Keeper began. “There is still a path that the sightings follow, but they are very spread out. The second incident is more focused, but still rather spread out until reaching its terminus.”

Ruarc didn’t say it, but the sightings marked on the second incident map terminated in a circle with an X through it, labeled disappearance. Then he brought the original map close to compare the three patterns.

“We don’t know what it is looking for, and I am willing to bet it is still unsure of the location of its goal. To me, this pattern reads like it wants to be found. Clear path and pattern, little deviation like before, an overt taunt in the middle of town, and a solid basis for assuming where it will appear next. Dollars to donuts it is expecting company on its next appearance.”

Lifting a bottle of water to his mouth, he took a quick drink.

“Also, yes, weather manipulation is a solid possibility, especially if the warlock is bound to an aquatic patron. That said, show Mother Nature some respect and don’t talk about her bra.”

The rebuke from Ruarc made Drysi jump in her seat; the words had been a strike across the face. Naturally, the apprentice screwed her face into something resembling discontent or defiance, her eyes shifting along the contours of the dash to find someone or something to agree with her. Willow would have thought that was funny, and if she hadn't, she would've laughed it off.

Biting her lip, she forced herself to listen. That was the responsible thing to do, the right thing to do. There was a little solace in that. He'd see how seriously she was taking this, and he'd feel bad for snapping at her. Spite was definitely the mature approach here.

Then the maps came out, causing a sparkle in her eyes. She traced each line, each marker, until she came to the word disappearance. Suddenly, the fun stopped. Each time Viona McFarley's ultimate fate came to the forefront of Drysi's mind, she found herself immediately and uncomfortably sobered.

"Also, yes, weather manipulation is a solid possibility, especially if the warlock is bound to an aquatic patron. That said, show Mother Nature some respect and don’t talk about her bra.”

"Sorry."

It had been what she actually wanted to say when she thought about her words. Much like a lot of Drysi's thoughts, it spilled out when she least expected it, as if Gideon were reaching into the satchel of her mind to pluck out her heart's true meaning. A flower of shame blossomed in her heart, and she found the weight of it too heavy to look the man in the eye. So instead, she looked back at the map.

Following the patterns, she tried to find comfort in the mathematic art of it all.

Children likely won’t be well versed in who or what, but they have a knack for finding places no one else might know about; no lack of fairy tales of children stumbling into places they shouldn’t be.

Looking at the information in front of her, she wanted to leap to a conclusion that the monster wanted to be found, but her master's instinct looked to be right. If the sightings were any indication, Viona just happened to be where the creature's goal was.

But why take her? It's not like the village had a history of abductions or even missing children reports in the area.

"What if this isn't the milk run," came Drysi's words, careful, thoughtful, slow. They paced themselves, watching for Ruarc's lead. "What if this is the return trip? Perhaps there's something here that leads or opens the way to where the target's returning to. That little girl probably wasn't abducted but wandered inta' whatever space this creature is tryin' t'crawl into after it walked in."