PART ONE: Welcome To Silver-Spruce

Cornelius heard the click of chitin on wood. The sound tore through his sleep and sent his mind into overdrive. The cave floor was cold, their auras under such constant strain that they couldn't afford to heat it. The smell of rot and copper filled his nose. The spiders must have killed the first watch silently, but how? A new breed, maybe?

Without opening his eyes or giving any physical tell that he was awake, Cornelius shoved his aura throughout the entire room, and with an effort of will, he split his mind.

One half remained cold and focused well the other... The other was wondering why it took so much effort to split his mind. Maybe there was an easier way to do it. But was the easy way to do something always better? How much effort could you shave off something before it crossed the line between efficiency and laziness? Cornelius didn't mind being lazy on occasion, but only on occasion. Being lazy too often would set a bad example for Dalton.

As his disjointed thoughts flowed to any topic they wished, his aura change.Taking on a bright yellow hue in his mind's eye. The second his aura shifted aspects, Cornelius was weaving power. Young mages often tried to make a solid shield out of wind, but that was inefficient at best and ineffective at worst. Wind wanted to be in motion, and unless someone had the iron will and expert control necessary to keep the wind moving in a tightly controlled shield, it was best to go big.

A miniature tornado formed in the room as Cornelius poured magic into the spell. At the same time, he pushed a separate vortex into being around his bed, this one far tighter than the other, the air spinning as fast as he could will it in the small space. Cornelius sat up. A spider bigger than his torso flew across his line.

The voice of an older, matronly woman wailed in his mind. This happened once more before Cornelius remembered where he was and hastily, but carefully, dropped the spell—setting the giant spider down gently in front of his bed.

He kept the smaller vortex going at reduced power, making it almost invisible. It was not a good idea to drop ones guard entirely after offending someone with venomous fangs.

The spider was around four feet tall and covered in a glossy black carapace. Save for a few splashes of blue and pink along the thorax that reminded Cornelius vaguely of flowers. Two large black eyes, which were flanked by three smaller ones, stared accusingly at Cornelius. Dust and debris that Cornelius's spell had whipped up slowly floated down around them.

"Of all the ways to respond to being woken up!" The same matronly voice shouted into Cornelius's mind, indignation and disapproval dripping off every syllable. "I made it two steps through the door and hadn't even managed to clear my throat before being manhandled by the air!" A curious part of Cornelius marveled at how well she managed to use human phrases. He wasn't even sure if spiders had throats. Plus, she spoke mentally, so she didn't need to clear her throat to talk if she had one in the first place. The rest of Cornelius was overcome with embarrassment.

He rubbed at the back of his neck before bowing to the spider. "I apologize, Madam Lillian. My squad and I were once trapped in a complex of caves for the better part of a month. The spiders there were far less... refined than you and your clan. Madam Lillian's demeanor flipped immediately. "Oh, you poor thing! I understand. One of the reasons we are here instead of in one of the counties of the DownThere is because of how barbaric our Kin can be." Lillian waved her front legs in a way that Cornelius somehow interpreted as reassuring.

Fascinating, this clan's empathic abilities were top-notch. And the tiny threads of magic that Lillian could spin like silk were imbued with intent like a ward. They even radiated peace and patience, which was likely how they were able to get through his defenses.

Cornelius caught his thoughts before they could get lost in magical theory and steered them back on track.

"Still, I apologize for my reaction."

"You are forgiven, my dear, and I won't hear any further apologies from you." Cornelius gave another seated bow. "I will let the others know to knock instead of trying to call. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes." Madam Lillian gave a dip that reminded Cornelius of a curtsy before turning and gliding out of the room. She thoughtfully shut the door behind her with a back leg.

Once he was sure she wasn't standing right next to the door, Cornelius let out a breath and laid back on his bed. He pushed images of many-legged horrors pulling his friends apart out of his mind. His hands tightened on the bedsheets, which he noted were silk. Giant spider silk? Whatever it was made from, it wasn't the hard stone of the cave.

Despite his predisposed hatred of spiders, he couldn't deny that Madam Lillian and her Kin had been nothing but accommodating since he and his apprentice arrived in Silver Spruce. And Cornelius had done his best to return their kindness.

He was a man of many flaws, but he refused to let racism be one of them. Far too many spooks fell into that pit. If the giant spiders were kind to him, he would be kind in return. Though he had almost burned the entire house down when he arrived.

The Knull clan had bought this house for him before he arrived in Silver Spruce. The home, and the entire neighborhood around it, had been up for sale for decades. The Circle was only one subdivision of the town's largest neighborhood, which was impressive in size for such a relatively small town.

When Cornelius arrived at the house, he had found that while it was up for sale, it wasn't unoccupied. It had been an intense first meeting, Cornelius would admit. But once both sides realized the other wasn't out for their blood, productive conversation had quickly followed.

While the clan owned the house legally, much of the supernatural world didn't particularly care about legality. They cared about who was there first and who was strong enough to make others respect that claim.

Madam Lillian and her- her brood? That word didn't sound very faltering, and the spiders had been very kind to him and his apprentice.

... Kin. The spider and Kin had acknowledged the situation's awkwardness. Cornelius's clan had bought the house after all. But he was in no rush to evict the spiders. They didn't harm humans and lived partially off the ambient magic in the area, which was quite dense. They also hunted animals in the forest and plenty of insects, many of which were far larger than normal.

As far as Cornelius could tell, the spiders were upstanding citizens.

With a grunt, Cornelius climbed out of bed. He looked down at his floor and sighed. His impromptu tornado had scattered his belongings to every corner of the room. Leaving his floor looking like a mix of college students dorm and an in-process art project.

With a slight effort, Cornelius started to shift his thoughts. He didn't go for a complete mental split this time, leaving his entire mind to wander free as his aura shifted yellow.

His floor really did look like an abstract art project, one made by the kind of artist who would insult you if you asked them what the project was. Cornelius could enjoy the abstract on occasion. He was quite a fan of art in general. Though he had little patience for the snobbery that often slipped in like rain through a leaky roof.

While his thoughts went where they liked, Cornelius's aura had strands of power weaving around articles of clothing. Each one only needed a strand or two before they were carried into the air on a gust of wind. Wind magic without a full mental split had always given Cornelius trouble. The very nature of the mental state required made it hard to focus on a single task, unlike the stubborn patience of earth or the passion and aggression of fire. But Cornelius had eventually gotten the trick of it. It was a little like intentionally zoning out. Letting your hands to a monotonous task as your mind wandered.

Cornelius steered his mind towards thinking about flowers, had to keep the thoughts moving, which was another frustration of wind magic. You couldn't even contemplate the thing while using it, not for long anyway.

Without a full split, Cornelius didn't have the dexterity required to fold his clothes with wind, but he did have the skill to lay them in individual piles. Less than thirty seconds after he started, the floor was clean. Once that was done, Cornelius clapped his hands and refocused, his aura bleeding back to its usual off-white as he did.

He needed to get going. If he wasn't quick about it, Dalton was going to be up before him. He wasn't going to give his apprentice that kind of ammo. Cornelius threw on some heavy jeans, a dark long-sleeved shirt and topped it off with a bright yellow raincoat that went just past his knees. It looked a little ridiculous, he'd admit, but he liked it all the same.

Cornelius stepped out of his room and immediately had to dodge a small spider. Well, he said small, but that was only in comparison to spiders like Mme. Lillian, as it was still bigger than his head. Black eyes looked up at him as furry legs twitched. Cornelius felt a conflicting mass of emotions. His own revulsion to spiders clashing with the knowledge that he was looking at a thinking individual.Not a thing to be judged because its appearance scared him.

The voice of a young boy spoke straight into Cornelius's mind. "That coat looks dumb on you." Cornelius blinked at the spider, which promptly turned and scurried off down the hall, sending a few mental giggles Cornelius's way as it ran. Okay, so maybe Cornelius should judge the little brat just for his personality instead of his looks.

Cornelius stomped down the hall, a hall that was totally clean of webs. Certain rooms in the house were mazes of spiderwebs, furniture, and even small rooms made out of the stuff. But Mme. Lillian and her Kin understood that humans weren't overly fond of sleeping in rooms full of webs, so they had cleared out several rooms, including a few hallways.

He reached Dalton's door and gave it a few firm knocks. It would be disappointing if that woke him, but Cornelius gave him a chance. Though, considering how hard the lad slept, Cornelius doubted a raging werewolf would wake the boy up. He gave another firm knock.

Nothing.

Cornelius opened the door and slipped inside. His apprentice was right where he expected him to be—in the middle of his bed, snoring loudly. Like most teenagers, Dalton could sleep like it was a professional sport. Cornelius didn't begrudge him that teenagers needed more sleep than adults. What he did begrudge was his apprentices' inability to set an alarm. In the four months since Dalton had become Cornelius's apprentice, he could count on one hand the number of times the boy had gotten up on time.

That was fine though, it gave Cornelius the excuse to open the day with a lesson. It was a lesson that had yet to sink in, but Cornelius was a patient man.

He pushed his aura into the room, surrounding the area around Dalton but not covering the young mage himself. Touching Dalton's aura with his own would immediately wake him up, which would waste this opportunity.

It was hard to affect another mage directly with your aura. People had natural defenses against that sort of thing. You had to overpower their own aura for one, which people had even if they weren't mages, which was usually such a power-intensive thing to do that it wasn't worth it. It was easier to just throw fire from a distance or affect the ground beneath their feet than directly affect their bodies.

But if the person was significantly weaker than you or entirely unprepared to defend, it made it a far easier task. Cornelius once again aspected his aura to wind and got a spell ready. Then he slammed it forward, overcoming Dalton's aura in an instant. Before Dalton could even open his eyes, he was floating in the air. "Gahhh!?" Cornelius dropped his apprentice after flipping him once, making sure he landed on his bed with all of his limbs in a safe position for the impact. It took considerable finesse to drop someone just fast enough to startle without hurting them. But Dalton had given Cornelius plenty of practice in the art.

"Goddammit!" His apprentice swore. "Why!" Cornelius smiled at his swearing apprentice while using a few gusts of wind to tidy up his room. It was far from the worst teenagers room he'd seen, but Dalton had still managed to make a sizable mass in two days.

"Several reasons." Cornelius raised a finger. "First off, I find it rather funny." He quickly continued before a tirade of expletives could be sent his way. "But far more importantly, because it is good for you, my apprentice."

Cornelius's lost most of his smile as he met Dalton's dark eyes. "You are well aware that this world is not safe or kind, Dalton. And it is even less so to those with magic which cannot defend themselves. Every time I wake you up by overpowering your aura, waking up alert becomes just a bit closer to the usual. If I can get you to wake up ready to defend yourself without the brutal methods many masters prefer, I will."

Cornelius crouched down as he continued to stare into his apprentices' eyes, making sure he understood the gravity of his words. "And continuing on that line, each time I overpower your aura from surprise, it gets a little bit harder.""Doesn't stop you from overpowering me in a heartbeat," Dalton grumbled.""Not yet, but I have to put more effort in each time. Eventually, I won't be able to overpower you from surprise; you'll make me work for it. And one day, you'll be able to hold off my aura entirely. When that happens, will move into the next steps of defending yourself from a mage ambush."

Cornelius stood and clapped his hands. "Right then," he said as he turned to the door. "That concludes the first lesson in the diplomacy of the day, will be leaving in fifteen minutes, Dalton, don't be tardy." "Diplomacy, my ass!" Dalton yelled after the closing door.

~<>~

"Explain to me why, when we have a perfectly good car, we are taking the bus?" Dalton asked.

Cornelius looked at his slightly sullen apprentice with a smile.

The boy looked out of place with his lanky frame stuffed into a bus seat. He was dressed, in sharp contrast to Cornelius, fashionably. Or at least, Cornelius assumed it was fashionable. He couldn't claim to be with it. Dalton wore far tighter jeans than Cornelius, a sky blue shirt, and a brown jacket. Did that count as fashionable?

"We have three weeks until the summit," Cornelius began. "Three weeks to get to know the town, three weeks to complete all of our tasks. The public transport system is a great way to get to know the town." Dalton gave Cornelius a doubting look. For someone Cornelius would describe as having a honest face, Dalton was surprisingly good at giving those looks. "Plus, I needed to get some thinking done, and driving takes too much focus."

Dalton gave him an even more skeptical look. "How is it, oh master mine, that you can do all of the things you do, but driving proves to be the limit of your multitasking abilities?"

Cornelius shrugged, his heavy raincoat squeaking slightly with the motion. "We all have our limits. Ah, would you look at that, we're here." The bus pulled to a stop with a hiss of hydraulics. Cornelius and his apprentice being the only occupants, they were out the doors as soon as they opened, only pausing to give the bus driver a quick wave.

Downtown Silver Spruce was a sharp contrast from the rest of the town. Aside from a few neighborhoods, most of the town was incredibly spread out, with moderate swaths of forest between most buildings. But the downtown was about as packed as any Cornelius had seen. Albeit far smaller in scale.

Tourist season hadn't truly died yet, so a still sizable crowd bustled through the street, flowing in and out of the dozens of shops and restaurants.

Dalton perked up immediately at the sight. The boy did have a fondness for shopping.

"Today's second lesson in diplomacy is thus," Cornelius said as they headed towards the throng of people. "When trying to get a feel for a new place, talk to people."

Dalton gave him some side-eye. "First off, we're still sticking to the whole 'diplomacy' thing? And second, I think I could have figured that one out on my own, master."

Before answering, Cornelius angled towards a shop with brown siding and a large red sign in front that read "Wallace's Wax whats-its."

"Yes, we are still sticking to that whole 'diplomacy' thing. I am a diplomat, and you are a diplomat's apprentice. And while it sounds simple, the best ways to get information often are. Just striking up a friendly conversation and asking a few good questions can get you great results. But there is also more to the lesson, which I would have already gotten to if my apprentice had not so rudely interrupted me."

Dalton raised his hands. "Fair enough, please master mine. Would you continue the lesson?"

He nodded. "I shall, but I've told you not to call me master in public. It gets us weird looks."

"You call me apprentice. And you're wearing a giant yellow raincoat. We're already getting weird looks."

Cornelius, like the wise mage that he was, ignored his apprentice and continued speaking. "Like I was saying. Talking to people is the way to go. It's best to start with people who interact with lots of the town, bartenders, and the like since they often hear the local gossip from patrons. But really, you want to talk to everyone that you can. You never know what Larry, the truck driver has to say about his town or neighbors. The more information you can get, the better. Even seemingly useless pieces of gossip are useful when you are trying to get a feel for a place." Cornelius slowed slightly as they approached the shop. He wanted to finish giving his lesson before they entered.

"Today, we're going to start with shop owners and cashiers because they're closer, and I want to shop, but we'll get to plenty of others. Just maybe not today."

Dalton nodded. "Alright, that all makes sense. But tell me this. If I'm a diplomat's apprentice, then why exactly, oh master mine, do you wake me up with an attack!?"

Cornelius smiled at his scowling apprentice. "Come now, Dalton," he said as he walked into the shop. "Any good diplomat needs to be able to defend themselves."

~<>~

Over the next hour, Cornelius and Dalton perused shops, chatted with the locals, and generally enjoyed themselves. Cornelius made sure to take his own advice and talk to as many shopkeepers and cashiers as he could. He had certainly gotten an impression of the locals. They were, in a word, odd. Most of them were friendly enough, but Cornelius couldn't shake the feeling that all of them were a little too casual about the supernatural.

Even the people that were, as far as he could tell, vanilla humans supernaturally speaking. He had seen one shopkeeper lure away a greed fiend, casually flashing some money to get it to follow her into a back room. She hadn't been a mage or any other type supernatural to Cornelius his eyes. But she hadn't even paused when the sickly yellow spirit had floated up from the floorboards.

He supposed it made sense, considering just how dense the ambient magic was here. If it was a loose fog in most places, then here it was like walking through a thick gel.

Aside from how comfortable they seemed with the supernatural, Cornelius also noticed a few weak hedge mages as they shopped. Hedge mages were self-taught and unaffiliated with any of the three major clans. They tended to be relatively weak since the strong ones were usually scooped up by the clans.

Cornelius made sure to remember the hedge mages' faces and even talked to a few of them. They would be his best bet for getting vouchers. He and Dalton were heading to their last stop for the day, a small coffee shop at the edge of downtown, when Cornelius stopped mid-step.

A mage's sense for magic extended a bit past their aura. Most mages could feel a change in the magic around them, kind of like a mix between your sense of smell and feeling a temperature change. But a mage's magical senses could be trained and improved far more than their ordinary senses. Cornelius wasn't at the top of the totem pole when it came to magical senses, but he was far from the bottom. So it took Dalton several feet before he realized Cornelius had stopped, and he didn't understand why.

Something pressed against Cornelius from the road. It was like a whisper from someone he knew but couldn't place, but if they just spoke a little louder, it would click.

Cornelius closed his eyes and tried to follow the sensation, extending his aura and senses alike.

The feeling went from a faint whisper to a deafening cry in a heartbeat. It blasted his senses, causing him to stumble. Then, the feeling changed again. It pressed against him, growing as it did until he felt like a mountain was looming over him.

Ah, so that's who it is.

Just as he readied himself to try and push back, as fruitless as he knew it would be, the pressure vanished as if it had never been.

Cornelius spun and scanned the road. He didn't see it at first, but he kept looking. She wouldn't take off before he caught a glimpse. Sure enough, he saw a black motorcycle that was almost blocked by the surroundings. He couldn't make out who was riding it, not that he needed to, but he could see the incredibly detailed broomstick drawn on the side of the bike.

A second later, the motorcycle took off, seemingly with the flow of traffic, but Cornelius was sure she'd managed to influence said traffic somehow.

The old hag had arrived early for the summit. Cornelius turned to his apprentice, who had his mouth open to ask a question. "Dalton, be polite to any old women you meet. Even if they're annoying."

Dalton rolled his eyes. "I wasn't planning on badmouthing any old women. Why –" Cornelius cut him off. "Dalton!" Part of him, the part that always panicked when she was around, caused his voice to come out sharp and hard. The air heated up around them as his aura responded to his emotions.

"In the coming weeks, this town is going to be filled with spooks, and while plenty are going to be mages or factions we have good relations with, just as many will kill you if you give them an excuse. I can protect you from most, but some beings are above me, Dalton. If you are not careful, then you will be snuffed out like a candle. So listen to me, and listen well, because I am not going to have my apprentice die because he lipped off to the wrong creature." Cornelius took a step closer, and while he turned down the heat coming off his aura, he kept up the pressure.

"Be. Polite."

Dalton looked up at him, his eyes wide, and nodded. Once Cornelius was sure his apprentice got the message, he reined in his aura. Dalton gasped. "How do you do that! You weren't even pushing against my aura, but it felt like a knife was against my throat." Cornelius studied his apprentice, then smiled. "I'll teach you how to do that in time. After all, a diplomat must have presence."