He lit his pipe, watching the smoke rise and mingle in the winter air as he collected his thoughts.

It had been a week. One week since the incident. One week since his daughter had lost her memories. 

Charlie had kept to her room for the most part. When she did venture out, she tended to stick by Gran. 

And, though she remained polite, it was obvious to anyone that she was scared — scared of her surroundings, scared of her memory loss…

Scared of him. 

Alright — that wasn't completely fair. She was technically still afraid of everyone, save Gran and the Twins. But out of the family, she seemed to find him the scariest.

This development was discovered shortly after Gran had allowed him in to see her.  The interaction had proceeded with caution, in case Charlie flew into another panicked episode. 

Fortunately, she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she hid behind Gran, only peeking out occasionally to speak. But it was so strange, seeing her advert her eyes and fidgeting as she fumbled with her words. It reminded him a lot of a rabbit, not his little bear cub. 

Charlie might have been a quiet kid, but she wasn’t one to hide away from her own family— not even from him. She usually would run up and hug him on sight. 

Mr. Bennett was not a short man. He had been made well aware of that a long time ago. So when approaching the little girl, he tried his best to make himself as benign as possible. He sat on the floor a few feet away and kept his voice even.

It didn't work. Actually, it might have made things worse… 

He sighed.  At least she was talking to him. Even if he had to keep his distance for now, when all he wanted was to wrap her tightly in a hug — at least she was still talking to him. 

The incident was burned in his mind like it was yesterday...  

The looks on Ada’s and Bem’s faces as they had burst through the door, telling him they couldn’t find Charlie.

The worry that quickly turned to fear as he followed them to the hills the hillside kids usually went sledding. 

The way the worried search party had formed and split up, torches and lanterns lighting up as they frantically searched in the fading daylight. 

The way his blood had run cold when he found Charlie’s sled half-buried in the snow, battered and smashed to pieces.  

The small, inconsistent footprints of a child, followed by a second, mysterious pair, heading deeper into the woods. 

... The tattered, shredded remains of Charlie's coat.

That discovery had nearly caused the man to collapse. Panic rose in his throat as he sprinted deeper into the woods, running faster than he had ever run before. 

She had to be alive. By the Goddess, Charlene had to be -- 

“Darius?”

He blinked to attention. Dr. Parker was standing by him, looking on with an expression of concern.

How long had Parker been standing there? Judging by the medical bag in hand, the doctor had already finished his examination and was getting ready to head out.

“Doctor,” Mr. Bennett removed his pipe and stood, shaking the older gent’s hand with his free one. “Thank you for coming out here tonight.”

“Absolutely. It was no problem at all.” Parker smiled. “She’s doing much better than expected. Most people would still be bedridden for weeks — but here it is a week, and she’s already up and about. She should be able to go outside, starting tomorrow.”

“Good...That’s good,” Mr. Bennett nodded, then hesitantly added. “Charlie didn’t give you a hard time, did she?”

“No," Parker shook his head fervently. "No trouble at all. She was an angel as always.” 

Dr. Parker fiddled with his glasses as Mr. Bennett sat back down. “How are you faring? Everybody seems to have a different answer.”  

“Well,” Mr. Bennett said with a sad chuckle. “She’s scared of me.”

Parker blinked. “Beg pardon?” 

"I said--"

"No, no -- I heard you, but...Charlene? We are talking about Charlene right now, right?"

“Yes." 

It wasn't that he resented the look of pity on the doctor's face, but he was getting tired of seeing that look on people's faces for the past week.

"I don’t think she hates me,” continued Mr. Bennett. “But--”

"You're still blaming yourself, aren't you?"

He started to deny it, but the words got caught in his throat. He doubted Parker would believe him, even if they had come out. The doctor had known him long enough to know when he was lying through his teeth. 

Parker sighed, set down his bag in the icy snow, and took the younger man firmly by the shoulder.

“Darius-- look at me." The doctor patiently waited for his friend to meet his gaze before continuing. “It wasn’t your fault.”

"..." 

“It wasn’t!” the doctor insisted. “Children wander off all the time, regardless if you’re watching them or not. And what with all this snow, it’s only natural for a child—“

“That’s just it, doctor,’” Mr. Bennett sighed as he brushed Parker's hand away. “She didn’t just ‘wander off’ and get lost. No child can 'wander off' that far-- there wasn’t enough time. And her sled was broken and buried, like someone was trying to hide it. And on top of that—“

“Wait,” Parker jumped in quickly. “Wait...Go back. What was that about a broken sled?”

Mr. Bennett hesitated, then drew in a breath.

“…I found Charlie’s sled, a few miles from where I found her. It had been completely destroyed, and sticking out of the snow like it had been there for hours.”

"Mil--" Parker stopped himself. “You're right -- I don't think she could walk that far in such a short time. But don’t you think-- maybe-- Charlene might of accidentally broken the sled herself?“

Mr. Bennett shook his head. “I made that sled myself, doctor. I couldn’t break it, so I know she couldn’t. Whatever did had to be pretty strong…”

"A wild animal, perhaps?"

"...I doubt it." 

 The doctor gave him a questioning look. “… Darius? You saw something out there, didn't you?”

“…It’s not so much what I saw.” Mr. Bennett said. “It was more what I didn’t see that concerns me. You saw Charlie's footprints-- didn't you notice that they just... disappeared after a while?”

"Well, yes," Parker agreed. "But maybe they got covered up by snow. There are a lot of trees in that area..."

“...Or maybe," Mr. Bennett started, watching his friend's reaction. "Someone swooped in and grabbed her.” 

“'Swooped in’? What in the world--“ 

Parker stopped mid-sentence. He checked to see if there was any sign of jest in the other man’s eyes. None whatsoever. 

"Oh gods, you're serious," Parker gaped. “You…You don’t really mean…"                                                                                                                                                           

Mr. Bennett nodded. “There was another set of prints in the snow, doctor. They were brief, but they were there.  And how easy would it be to wait until a child was alone, swoop in, grab her, and leave while destroying any traces of her being there?”

Oh gods, he was serious! 

“B-but,” spluttered Parker, refusing to believe it. "That would require magic!"

Mr. Bennett only hummed in agreement. 

"But," the flustered doctor tried again. “What are the odds of that? No one in their right mind would wait in the woods — in broad daylight — waiting for a child to cross their path--! Even if they did ‘swoop in’, they’d still have to do it in broad daylight!”

Mr. Bennett sighed. “You’re right,” he said. “They couldn’t have been in their right mind. They seriously didn't think —“

“Darius!”

The snap had came out louder than he had meant it to be. This conversation they were having was taking a turn for the ridiculous, sure-- but Parker hadn't meant to snap at him. 

Darius didn’t flinch, but he did stop, waiting for Parker to finish.  He was no longer a boy, but somehow, Darius Bennett always managed to find new ways to put gray hairs on the old man's head. 

“Darius,” Parker tried again, trying to keep his composure. “You do understand what you’re saying, right? And how many people could get hurt if you go around, accusing folks?” 

“I haven’t accused anyone, doctor. I’m merely pointing out —“

“There are no witches in Alaeria!”  

There— it was out in the air. The idea was as crazy as it was dangerous. For a few moments, they waited in silence, as if expecting treachery in the form of a haggard crone. Of course, nothing happened.

The subject of witches— and magic, in general — was a taboo subject in the empire. Due to some… interesting choices in the past, there were not a lot of people capable of doing magic in Alaerian Empire. 

“’Witches’? Maybe not.” Agreed Mr. Bennett.  “But there is magic, regardless of what we call it.”

Though "witchcraft" was forbidden, magic users were still in high demand. So, if one was found, they had three choices — dedicate themselves to either the Emperor, work for the Church-- who worked in tandem with the Emperor-- or…. 

“Magic,” continued Mr. Bennett. “Is a tool. ‘Divine’ or not, it’s a tool — which means people can use it however they please.”

“But why? To what end?" pressed Parker. "Why kidnap a child?

“…I think you already know ‘why’.”

Parker stood there, the confusion clear on his face. Mr. Bennett fiddled with the half-empty tobacco pouch in his hands and waited. Then, slowly — like the coming of the sun— it dawned on him. Parker’s mouth fell open as he blanched. A shudder came about as he tried to speak, but all that came out was a bunch of nonsensical rubbish. 

Neither man was an expert in magic, but both knew of the hearsay. It was possible for magic-users to get stronger. There were honest ways... and there were quicker ways.  

The quickest methods always seemed to require a sacrifice… 

“T-That’s,” started the doctor. “D-Darius, that’s absolutely vile!”

Mr. Bennett nodded grimly. “I know, doctor.”

“That is absolutely vile!” repeated Parker. 

“Yes, doctor. Obviously, they failed, but—“

“That’s horrendous! Horrific!” exclaimed Parker. “Justice! We need justice!”

“I agree, doctor..." agreed Mr. Bennett. "We need to find whoever did this as quickly as possible."

"Very quickly!" cried Parker. "Who's to say that they won't try a stunt like that again? And what if it's not just one child they need?! Oh gods -- it's the Bathory Bloodbath all over again!"

"I doubt they'll attack here again, not with everyone on edge," said Mr. Bennett. "However, the problem still remains: who? It's clear someone meant my daughter harm, regardless if they were targeting her or not. We need a face, a name-- something to identify them... And the only person who could've told us that is—"

“Charlene.” Finished the doctor.

There was a terrible silence as the realization sunk in.

 “And that,” finished Mr. Bennett. “That is why I’m having a bit of a hard time forgiving myself, doctor.”