Event Private Scrying for the Source

"Ohh, I assumed you had a choice of some sort," Monday admitted as he took a somewhat large sip of his tea, grimacing at the very bitter taste as he considered her words, not missing Candle's slightly annoyed look and tone.

"So you are bound to serve even if I were to give you your freedom, release you from your obligations to me?" he asked her, now curious about that and wanting to know a bit more before the artemisa took effect and he had to start scrying again.

"I see. That's a shame," Monday replied in an even tone. He had wondered about that, and now he knew. In fact, he began to wonder, now as his mind was starting to get that funny feeling from the wormwood and mugwort, if maybe he shouldn't have made sure in some way that Candle went to someone he trusted if something happened to him.

And with that last thought, which quickly fled from his mind, Monday drank the rest of the tea, handed back the cup to Candle and stepped forward to attempt scrying again, starting over from true North and hoping the mirrors' surfaces wouldn't close up like before.

As Monday grabbed the first mirror like before, feeling himself slipping into a light wormwood induced trance, he looked at Candle and remembered something, "If something should happen to me today," he said solemnly as he ran a hand slowly along the edge of the mirror, "I want you to seek out my coven and ask for either Sunday or Saturday," he told her, waiting a moment to hear her reply before he let himself begin the scrying process.

Running a hand through his hair nervously as he listened to Candle, Monday just nodded when she agreed to go find his friends if anything went wrong. He could feel that weird edginess kicking in now. Artemisa, when mixed with mugwort and sage, always did strange things to him.

Returning his attention to the mirrors, he started scrying again. This time the first mirror started showing images, real images of people searching through the snow deep in a forest somewhere. Images of people that seemed lost. And suddenly, the images faded.

Stepping away from the mirror, feeling elated, Monday took a deep breath to steady himself. "It's working," he told Candle, "I saw people searching, maybe even lost, in a forest somewhere," he told her as he moved to NNE and started scrying again.

Monday was grateful for Candle and for her almost inscrutable presence right now. The fact that nothing seemed to really bother, excite or phase her - at least outwardly - calmed him and reassured him that everything would be okay.

Looking at the mirror in front of him, Monday stared at his reflection until he saw it change as an image of something taking flight and swooping fast towards him made Monday jump back a little. The image was unexpected to say the least.

Feeling his heart beating in his chest, Monday moved on to the next mirror, the one facing northeast. Taking this mirror carefully between his hands he waited for something to happen. However, after 2 or 3 minutes, the mirror stayed blank, unchanging.

"Nothing," he muttered under his breath and decided to try the next mirror, east northeast, but only getting the same results as before. Sighing, trying not to get discouraged yet, he moved on to the mirror facing due east, hoping he'd get a better result this time.

Monday heard Candle's comment and sort of acknowledged her, however, the tea she had made him had really started kicking in and he was becoming too focused on the mirrors and what he was scrying to pay much attention to anything else.

And after a good two hours or more, filled with odd images, some fleeting and others too vague to have any true meaning, he finally came to the mirror facing the direction West North West. Holding onto the mirror gingerly, and feeling somewhat exhausted by now, Monday gazed into the mirror expecting like the others before, to either not reveal anything of value or to flash grey, white and back to his reflection.

However, as the smoke cleared, in the mirror a real recognisable image appeared clear as day. It felt like the image reflected back at him was right there, like he could touch it. And the more and longer, Monday looked at the image, the more he began to recognise what and where it was... breaking away, Monday put the mirror down.

"The school," he stated sort of in awe, "Whatever it is, is coming from the school," he told Candle, his face reflecting the awe he felt.