Blunder cruised through the streets of Silver Spruce, the night air rustling her coat and chilling her face as she sliced through it. It would've been a simple thing to shield herself from the wind, but where would be the fun in that?

A light fog had rolled in with the evening, blanketing the town in a drifting curtain of white and gray. The old woman passed homes and shops, their silhouettes strange, almost alien, in the fog. Part of that was a simple trick of the light, but it was mostly due to how... unique the housing market was in Silver Spruce. She passed by a trio of castles, an ordinary house that had partially sunken into the earth at an angle, and many more. Most of them held magic. Either crafted into their walls or shaping it in their environment. And magic was thick in this environment, covering the entire region like a dense gel.

It was a wonder no factions had made this place one of their territories. Well, a wonder to some. Blunder knew perfectly well why no one had tried to claim this place till now. It had been a few centuries, but she had met some of the ancient things that lived in the deep woods. Things that didn't take kindly to others trying to move in on their turf.

What little noise that remained on the foggy evening vanished as she reached the North Road. Well, almost all the noise. Her broomstick still rumbled beneath her, its engine letting out a steady growl into the night air. Blunder's aura was relatively contained, only stretching out a few dozen yards around her. But that was still plenty of warning when it came to potholes. With a quick effort of will, she shaped the air around her broomstick, letting the old bike's wheels go right over the little pitfalls as if they were flat ground.

She considered fixing the road since the part of her aura attuned to earth was telling her the entire road that she could sense was just as pockmarked. But she decided against it.

There would be other mages coming through here soon, leaving it presented an opportunity. Maybe one would walk by and fix the whole road while no one was looking. Maybe they'd only do it when they had an audience. Maybe no one would bother to fix it at all, in which case Blunder would do it. But leaving it would give her a chance to learn. The old witch had long ago realized that knowledge was as potent as any magic.

On the first couple of bends in the road, she passed by ordinary houses and decrepit mansions, then things got weirder. An abandoned quarry that, for some reason, was shifting the ambient magic around it to dark and water.

A rundown carnival with a massive Ferris wheel spinning silently at its center.

An empty lot that had a house-sized pit at its center. She passed by more and more oddities, and a decent chunk of them were occupied.

She felt them, her finely tunned senses picking up the emotions and magic of the residents without conscious effort. Some were filled with indifference or even welcoming, while others pushed out into the road with open malice. Though they didn't do that for long. The instant the feelers of their awareness slid across Blunder's aura, they frantically pulled them back. She chuckled to herself. Many of the things were old and very, very strong. But most of them hadn't survived for as long as they had by being stupid.

That pattern repeated itself as she went, anything that cared to scan her quickly pulling back and tucking themselves away in their domains. But, the pattern changed when she reached a lonely bend in the road. For at least a mile around the bend, there was nothing. No houses, no spooky buildings, or strange anomalies. Just the thick, ancient forest. And the weight.

It pushed down on Blunder's aura like a blanket stuffed with rocks, trying to crush her down. The sounds from her broomstick became muffled, and the wet scent of the forest grew stronger.

Some would've mistaken it for an attack, but Blunder knew what it was. The heavy, malice-filled weight pressing down on her was the world itself responding to something's gaze.

She pulled her brakes, her broomstick coming to a stop with a spray of loose dirt and gravel. The thing that was watching her was old. But not in the way that people were old, not in the way that countries were old. It was old in the same way the mountains were old. Something that had sat there and watched as dynasties rose and fell, as cataclysms rocked the land and peoples were hunted to extinction. It was old, but that didn't make Blunder any less annoyed.

She was not some punk mage of a few centuries to be pushed around by something's attention falling on her.

She gathered her aura and Will, then pushed back against the weight, shoving it off the road and into the tree line. "Don't just glower at me. If you have something to say to me, then you come out here and damn well say it!"

The things full attention slammed against her aura like an avalanche.

Blunder didn't know what the thing was precisely. Maybe she could whip it with one hand tied behind her back. Maybe it could kill her with one swipe and tear a line across the entire state as a byproduct. But she wasn't trying to throw up a wind barrier to hold it back or blocking its path with a wall of stone. Instead, it was pushing against her with its Will while she did the same to it.

Blunder didn't care if the thing was a forgotten god that had decided to settle in this neck of the woods. She wasn't going to give a single god damned step in a battle of Will.

Holding back the things Will was the hardest thing she'd done this century, but she did it. Refusing to let it shove her aura back a single inch. As the pressure mounted, the world began to react to their clash. The fog started to spin and twist in on itself, the ground cracked, and the illumination coming from her broomstick's headlight began to warp. The thing pushed harder, and the muffled sounds of her engine started to echo strangely.

Then everything stopped.

The thing stopped pushing, and Blunder relaxed her Will, then shook out her aura. The creature sighed, the force of it setting the fog back to spinning and the pines to rustle as if caught in a breeze. It didn't speak, instead projecting its intent.

Blunder chuckled. "I'm not staying to cause you trouble. The only reason I stopped in the first place was because of your little half ass-ed flexing show. I won't be pushed around by anything less than someone's best." It sighed again, blowing away some fog in the process. Blunder grinned then revved her broomstick. "I'll stick to just a wave on my way back," she said before tearing off in another spray of dirt and gravel. Cackling as she went.

~<>~

Blunder focused on the magic in the air, using its feel like a GPS signal. She knew she was close, so any minute now, she should feel – ah, there it is. The sensation that had grabbed her from across town. It was cold yet soothing, like a patch of shade on a hot summer's day. She doubted anyone else had noticed it. Even with her senses, the blasts of magic had felt contained, despite their potency. But she had felt the ripples of it in the ambient magic. It was a little like throwing a rock into a pond. Even if you don't feel the rock itself, you could still feel the effects of its impact.

Now she was following those ripples of impact to their source.

She cruised her way up a long drive that led to an imposing mansion silhouetted against the dark fog. Blunder stared for a second but couldn't really get a sense of whether or not she should be appreciating the thing's beauty. What with it being too dark for her to really see it. The only light source aside from her headlight was the warm glow pouring from a few windows.

With a thought, Blunder covered the entire building in her aura.

Five people. Any mage or Telss would be able to sense her aura on them, but she didn't feel any of the lives inside suddenly scrambling in a panic. Probably not mages, then. She killed the engine then hopped off her broomstick. Strolling right up to the massive double doors, she gave them precisely three sharp knocks. The magic in the air trembled ever so slightly. It'd been centuries since the Fay, but the world still remembered certain rituals.

Three of the forms had been moving towards the door before she even knocked. Two of them stopped about ten feet from the door while one continued forward.

There was the quick scrape of a wooden beam being moved then the doors swung inward. A woman stood in the doorway, she was tall, blond, and buff and Blunder recognized her. She was the Northwoods kid,

it'd been the better part of twenty years since she'd last seen the girl, but when you were as old as she was, you got pretty good at recognizing someone across the odd decade or two. The girl looked straight over Blunder at first, her blond brows knitting in confusion. "Down here, girl," Blunder said with a sigh. Damn werewolves and their height. The young werewolf's attention snapped down, her dark blues taking in the old woman. She had a good poker face for someone so young, but she couldn't stop her eyes from widening just a hair as she took in the old witch's appearance.

She supposed that was fair. Blunder wore a red bandanna over her white hair, a heavy, worn work coat several sizes too large, and a pleated skirt.

The Northwoods girl stared at Blunder for several long seconds without saying a word. She frowned. "Well, girl, are you going to invite me and or not?" The werewolf arched a brow. "Are you going to turn me into a beast if I send you away? Because I'll warn you right now, I'm already quite beastly." The old woman let out a quick bark of laughter. Humor, good. In her experience, that was one of the most important traits for the semi-ageless spooks. Those without it were far more likely to go mad. "I'm not gonna curse you. That's a tricky business, especially if you want to make it untraceable. Far too much effort. Now let me in." The small smile that had formed on the werewolf's lips vanished as she shifted her weight. "Why exactly should I let you inside my home?"

Blunder signed internally. She had let more of her aura shift to a fiery red. Despite the spreading aspect, the temperature didn't rise so much as a single degree. She wouldn't let herself be so sloppy. But, her little contest of wills with the Old Thing had put her in a confrontational mindset, allowing her fire-split to gain a bit more control than intended.

Diplomacy, old girl, you haven't forgotten the skill.

"Because I mean you and yours no harm. Quite the opposite, I'm here to check up on the two that are out cold. And because if you call emergency number seven, you'll reach me." The young Northwoods relaxed slightly. It was absurdly tough to lie to a werewolf, so telling them you meant no harm was actually helpful, assuming you actually meant no harm.

When she mentioned the emergency number, the girl tensed right back up. The Northwoods were big on plans of all kinds. After they had done her a favor a few decades back, she'd agreed to be one of their backup plans. "You won't take offense if I double-check that, will you?"

"Of course not. I'd question your judgment if you didn't." Without taking her eyes off the old woman, the werewolf quickly pulled out her phone. A few taps later, the phone in Blunder's pocket began to ring. I put a spell on you, started to blast into the quiet room. She pulled out the ringing phone and pressed decline. "Satisfied?" Blunder asked. At the same time, she squeezed slightly with her aura. She'd already been covering the entire mansion, but she had kept her magic from actually touching the inhabitants, save for tiny brushes against their own auras. Now she let the inhabitants feel just a touch of her unrestrained aura.

Sure, her phone had rung with the emergency number, but she wanted to make sure that she felt like someone who could take care of emergencies. Blunder didn't change her stance or anything else about her demeanor aside from that slight shift in her aura, but it was enough.

She saw the look in the werewolf's eyes, saw the moment she registered the old woman in front of her as something dangerous. To her credit, the girl didn't swallow, shift or do anything to display nervousness. Instead, she nodded to Blunder.

"Follow me."

She led Blunder through twisting halls that seemed to intersect at random. Said walls were adorned with beautiful paintings. Some regal portraits of the Manors past owners, others depicting scenes of nature. Blunder didn't really pay attention to the rich surroundings aside from sparing them a quick glance. She appreciated some good art, but her focus was taken up by the magic in the air.

Scratch that, not just in the air, but the walls, the floors, in everything. The house had soaked up pools full of magic, and it was oddly neutral. She could hardly sense any personality coming from the old walls, despite their age and the abundance of power.

That was strange. Ambient magic soaked up emotions and thoughts like a sponge. A place like this should be drowning in character, but instead, it felt...scrubbed. Paying close attention, Blunder could pick up faint, faint traces of something, like an echo of an echo. And even that was fading.

Those fading traces felt hostile, full of focused, uncomplicated rage. And there was another source of magic clinging to the traces, scrubbing at them as she watched. A power that was cold and soothing.

So that's how it is?

They stopped at the last door in the hall, and the younger Northwoods turned to face her.

"Say it again. Please."

Blunder cocked her head. She knew of the girl's problem. She had one hell of a bond, strong enough that Blunder could sense the magic coursing through the girl. Usually, she couldn't feel it that clearly until the werewolf had been kicking for a few centuries, so being deferential couldn't have been easy for her. That, or the little pressure Blunder had put out, was enough to convince the werewolf that she was the bigger dog between them.

Regardless, Blunder understood what she was asking. "I'm here to help. And I won't harm anyone here."

The werewolf nodded, then opened the door. Blunder ignored the room as she focused on the sleeping form on a large four-poster bed. She reached out with her senses, running them over the sleeping werewolf. A non-mages aura tended to hug the body like a second skin, but this one had been stretched in places and twisted in others. Like an orange someone had started to messily peel. It would heal on its own, but she could help the process along.

Blunder cleared her mind, dropping her splits until she was one whole. She took a deep breath. It had been a while.

She emptied herself of emotions but didn't try and blank her thoughts. She was getting her aura as close to pure as she could, not void calling. She technically didn't need to purify her aura to do this, but aspected magic wanted to act, to affect the world and those in it. And stopping it from doing that took effort. She didn't need anything jostling her elbows while performing spiritual surgery.

She broke a section of her now mostly colorless aura into strands, then attached to them to the twisted sections of the werewolf's aura. With a bit of finagling and a few gentle tugs, she managed to straighten it out. She had to be careful not to damage it any further. Normally, hurting someone's aura directly took some doing, but this poor lad's had already been put through the wringer. And she could bring quite a bit more force than most.

She couldn't do much for the loose sections, but it would heal far faster than the twisted bits would've if left unattended.

She gave the young man a pat on the head and turned to the young Northwoods.

Plenty of things could rip you up, but a direct attack on the aura tended to come from those with Talent or spiritual entities. Blunder was pretty sure this was the latter, but it wouldn't hurt to confirm. Far too many old mages died because they would rather starve in the forest than ask for directions.

"He'll be fine, dear. He just needs a bit of sleep and some time. Now, about what happen to him." As Blunder spoke, she started remaking her splits. She didn't bring all of them back, she wasn't in an active war zone after all, but a bit of prudence and a whole lot of firepower had helped keep her alive all these years. "It was a ghost, yes?"

A grimace flashed across the werewolf's features as she nodded. "Yes. A ghost stronger than any I've ever heard of. It took control of everything in this house, and it managed to keep up the assault while possessing Bobby."

"Ghosts can be terrors, more than most people know. The church comes down on demons, and some specialist mages focus on ghosts. But for the most part, it's easier to just avoid their Haunts than to get rid of them."

Blunder frowned. "Means that the occasional dumb teenager or overly inquisitive hiker still meets a grisly fate every so often, but we don't have many other options." Strong ghosts and spirits, while sometimes easy to trap, are very hard to dispel."

The Northwoods frowned. "We werewolves can't hurt spirits, but I thought mages handled them relatively often."

Blunder waggled her hand. "We can take on spirits and partial spirits, but unless one is very skilled or very unstable, it's hard to do it on the fly. We need time to plan and prep."

The werewolf's face dropped into a neutral mask at Blunder's words.

Hmm, not sure what that reactions about. Blunder gave a mental shrug. That's something to think about later.

The old woman started towards the door.

"Now, deary. Why don't we check up on the other one."

Blunder could have found her own way, but she didn't want to be rude to a host, not at the moment anyway. So she let the young Northwoods, whose name she was trying to remember, lead her to the next room. Her host stopped in a room a few doors down from the last. "He's... A lot worse off than Bobby." She said. She opened her mouth to continue but then just shook her head and opened the door.

The room was similar to the last, dark and full of other details that Blunder promptly ignored as her attention settled on a bed in the corner. Lying in said bed was a battered boy, probably somewhere in his early twenties. She couldn't make out his features clearly in the dark, but there was just enough moonlight pouring in from the window that the dark bruises around his throat stood out clear as day.

Blunder eyed the marks. Strangling was a nasty business. It could kill you days after the fact, even if there were wasn't bruising. Though that was less likely to happen to a mage. They didn't heal like Were-Kin, not even close, but they did heal from injuries in the long term far better than vanilla humans...But now that she was right in front of him, she wasn't actually sure this kid was a mage.

She'd sensed more of the cold power as they had gotten closer, but his aura didn't feel like a mages. Depending on their strength, a mage usually kept their aura around a couple to a couple dozen feet around them. It was a bit like breathing. When you weren't focused on doing it a certain way, you defaulted to the most comfortable. But the boy's aura wasn't stretching into the room in a loose cloud like a mages. Instead, it was pulled just as tight against him as the werewolves, maybe even tighter.

...Wait.

Blunder focused her senses, scanning the boy's aura closely. The ambient magic around him wasn't tinted with cold more than the rest of the house, but as she felt along his aura, she sensed more of the icy magic. It was distant, like an ice pack felt through a towel, but it was there.

"Well, I'll be damned. He's got an unconscious veil on. And a good one too."

"Is that unusual?" The Northwoods asked. Blunder was pretty sure her name started with a B, but she couldn't quite place it.

"A veil as tight as this one is uncomfortable, and getting it to stick through sleep is tricky. You don't usually see mages under a hundred with the skill unless they grew up in an environment like Salem."

Blunder probed deeper. A veil disguised a mage's aura, suppressing its magical 'noise' by keeping it wrapped tight against the mage's body. You couldn't perform any magic while veiled, and it limited your senses, but a good one could make a mage almost undetectable. But it did that by making the veiled mage blend in with more normal auras. It didn't actually stop someone from scanning you. It made it harder, sure, but not impossible. And if the person doing the scan was good enough...

Blunder finally got a clear sense of the boy's aura. It had taken her a remarkably long time to feel her way through the veil; she'd met archmages who hadn't bothered to refine their veils to such a degree. But now she was feeling his aura directly. Or at least as directly she could while he was still veiled.

The cold sensation washed over her.

Blunder closed her eyes and nodded. She hadn't felt this exact mix of sensations, but that didn't surprise her. Two mages using fire magic would have their own unique, if similar, feel. But she recognized the general vibe the boy's aura gave off.

"He got rid of the ghost, specifically with magic?"

"Yeah. While the ghost was in Bobby, he did something that made them both collapse. A little while later, the house stopped trying to kill us."

Blunder whistled as she pulled her senses back. "Sheesh! This one's a crazy bastard then, considering the price."

"Price?"

The old witch shook her bandanna-clad head. "That's not my info to share."

The girl obviously didn't like that answer, but she didn't push Blunder. She wouldn't be surprised if the girl contacted her parents while Blunder was busy. The Northwoods could be stubborn and headstrong fools at times, but they were also aggressively practical. If she'd told them that emergency line number seven had sown up at her door, they'd tell her to listen to Blunder.

Blunder's gaze moved back to the sleeping form.

What to do now.

She almost certainly had a Telss on her hands here. It was possible he was merely a hedge-mage, one that had figured out how to reliably perform one of the rarest and most specialized shifts known. And had mastered it so well that he could make a mental split that he maintained through sleep. Possible, but so unlikely that Blunder would feel more confident in her chances of winning the lottery six times back to back.

All evidence pointed to him being a Telss. Few mages weaker than an arch-mage could make their aura feel so mono-aspected during sleep. The aura shifted with one's mind and emotions, and those things shifted like a drug dealer in an interrogation room during sleep.

She could tip off one of the mage clans. Handing one of them a Telss would put them massively in her debt. That could be incredibly useful as the Pact was on the verge of declaring war.

But this boy's aura could be invaluable against the Barrow King, and whatever clan she handed him off to wouldn't risk him in combat. Her wrinkled face dropped into a scowl. She had forced the mage clans to denounce taking Telss against their wills, and she had enforced that edict when she could. But not even she could be everywhere at once. She was sure there were still plenty of Telss slaves. The clans were just sneaky about it now.

But despite her personal distaste for how the clans treated Telss, was handing him over her best option?

...No. No. It was possible the boy could be recruited to help them counter spirits, but that wasn't a possibility once one of the clans got their hooks in.

Plus, she had a feeling the young Northwoods would object, and while her parents were practical, all talk of practicality went out the window for werewolves when it came to debts. Handing him off would likely stir up too much tension at a time when they needed to be united.

And the less...scheming side of Blunder just didn't want to give the boy over to the clans.

Magic had risks. It had costs, sometimes it was just a simple drain on your energy, but sometimes you risked getting locked into a single set of emotions or worse.

Blunder knew what the cost to the boy's magic was. She didn't want to screw over someone willing to pay that.

You've gone soft, old girl.

Maybe she had, but there was still the practical reasons not to hand him over as well.

"Bah, I can be as hard or soft as I want!"

The young Northwoods blinked at her sudden outburst.

"Don't worry about it." Blunder waved towards the bed. "He'll be fine as well. Physically, at least."

Before the werewolf could ask for clarification, Blunder bustled towards the door. "I'm sorry, dearie, but I need to leave. I'm a busy woman, and other things need my attention tonight as well."

She waited for the girl to take the lead before following.

Blunder climbed onto her broomstick, then turned to face the mansion. She knew the werewolves could still hear her. "I'll see you at the summit!"

Then she pulled the throttle and rumbled off into the night.