A mana anomaly appeared on the outskirts of Castleton, right on schedule. It was still two days before the beginning of the conclave, but the Dungeon Spirits needed to inspect the grounds where it would be held. The Dungeon Spirts could only spend a limited amount of time outside their dungeons, so they set up a temporary mana anomaly near the conclave. It would disperse harmlessly after the ceremony ended, as there was no actual mana imbalance in need of repair.

The Dungeon Spirits maintained their own leadership, and elected one among them to serve as official liaison between the spirits and the powers of the world. The conclave was one of many regular meetings between Dungeon Spirit leadership and the wider world, but it was the most regular, and arguably the most important.

"Demevon," Celuria said, making her way to the front of the temporary dungeon space. "What is your plan here?"

Demevon, the currently elected leader of the Dungeon Spirits, was a tall man with purple translucent plates covering his body. He appeared to be made of crystal, but Celuria knew the man had been human before his ascension.

"Celuria. Lovely to see you. I intend to begin the conclave the same way I always have, with the inspection. If you have grievances you would like redressed, then you may air them at the appointed time."

"You would stand by a murderer as though he is an ally?"

"If we didn't stand by murderers, there wouldn't be a Magus to rely upon. I know how you favor Olivander, and if you think his hands are clean, then you are either naive or willfully deluding yourself."

"When did Olivander ever kill a Dungeon Spirit?"

"We will give our host the benefit of a doubt. There will be time for answers, but I have not come to start a fight."

Celuria didn't like how Demevon was handling things, but she hadn't really expected him to do anything up front anyway. She was second among the dungeon spirits, and while Demevon would have preferred she stay behind for the inspection, it was her right.

The arch that was their portal to the outside world shimmered once. It was time to begin.

***

Amegnon stood next to the Hammer, right in front of the archway that served as an aperture into the mana anomaly. He could practically feel the hostility boiling off her, but she said nothing.

Steven stood behind them, as well as a single representative of the High Magi council, Voqua. The full council would be in attendance at the start of the conclave, but for now Amegnon was just glad he didn't have any more detractors present.

The aperture shimmered, indicating that the time had come. Amegnon straightened himself and steadied his breathing. He would only get one change to make a first impression with the leader of the Dungeon Spirits. Regardless of what he thought of them, he needed them on his side.

The archway melted away, revealing a host of the black-eyed nearly translucent figures. At their head was a massive man in interlocking hexagonal plates that glowed with a soft purple light. Steven's intel indicated this was the leader, Demevon.

A woman to Demevon's right with a shock of bright blue-green hair held an arm toward Amegnon, and without warning or preamble, a lance of water speared toward his neck. It moved so fast that he didn't have time to react.

A purple plate appeared in the air between them, and the water bolt shattered it. The plate slowed the momentum of the water bolt, but Amegnon made no move to shield himself, allowing the magic to crash into him. He took a single step back, moved by the momentum of the blow, but he was otherwise unharmed.

"Arch-magus," Demevon said. "I apologize for the actions of one of my own. She has been distraught since the death of her brother."

Purple plates began interlocking around the Spirit that had assaulted him, and after a moment she was entirely contained. Amegnon could still feel her rage, and was glad for Demevon's intervention. This particular Dungeon Spirit seemed to rely on magical might, but he needed to stop getting into fights he could avoid.

"Leader Demevon, I presume? It's an honor to meet you in person. I take no offense at her action, and know I might have acted the same way were I in her place. Making amends for my mistakes and reestablishing a good working relationship between our orders is one of my top goals for the conclave."

Demevon held out a hand to shake. "Excellent. I am Demevon. This is Celuria, she manages the dungeon in Du'la'melio, but is an active member of our leadership. If she can control herself, she will be accompanying us on our inspection today."

Demevon eyed the other dungeon spirit and she unclenched her fists and nodded once. The prison of purple plates dissipated, and Celuria remained silent, eyes still boring into Amegnon.

"A pleasure to meet you, and I am truly sorry about your brother," Amegnon said. The Spirit's jaw tightened when he said it, but she remained otherwise impassive. "I believe you know the Strong Right Hand of the Queen, Zemena Corvin, and High Magus Voqua."

"Good to see you again, Demevon," Voqua said.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The Hammer gave the dungeon spirit a polite nod, but didn't say anything.

"A pleasure to see you both again."

"Shall we begin the inspection?" Amegnon asked. "Forgive me if I come across as a little ignorant, but I have not been in my position long, or had much training in it. If you could indulge me on what it is the inspection covers, or any finer points I should know about the conclave, I would greatly appreciate it."

Steven had mentioned some, but he didn't know everything they looked for or why. More information was never a bad thing, so Amegnon had asked. He was also hoping to get more information about what would actually be happening at the conclave itself. There were countless records of previous conclaves. The premise was simple; the Dungeon Spirits used it as a yearly barometer about the health of the worlds mana, and it's stability. They would work with the Magi to come up with any plans needed to address outstanding issues, as well as address any grievances between the two groups. There were two full days of meetings, and Amegnon had a rough idea of the schedule. He thought that a lot of it might have been heavily influenced by Olivander, because there was a rather long time set aside for simply chatting about nothing in particular. That had always been Olivander's favorite pastime.

"Of course, Arch-magus. Simply, we're looking to make sure all of the required magical stabilization infrastructure is in place. Dungeon Spirits are, by our very nature, powerful. If we all were to exit spiritual spaces and fulling enter the world at once, we might actually trigger dungeon formation ourselves. Ensuring the infrastructure is in place guarantees a smooth conclave."

First they traced out the edge of the grounds. Demevon repaired a few of the ritual scripts himself. Steven said that was common. Even if Olivander himself drew out all of them, the Dungeon Spirits were particular. They moved on to the tents that would actually house the meetings. These were measured and Demevon reviewed some of his own documents.

"I think we need a space for Valenari. He hasn't attended in a while, but he has a potent fire aspect. I recommend reinforcing this area agains flames and fire magic so we don't end up burning the tent down."

Steven wrote down a note, and they moved on. The rest of the inspection went smoothly, with a few more minor issues found. Amegnon didn't really learn anything new about the inspection process or the conclave, but at least this minor formality had gone smoothly.

"You have done great work Arch-magus. A few minor adjustments aside, it seems you've adequately prepared for the conclave. I look forward to meeting with you again in two days."

Demevon waited for Celuria to pass through the mana anomaly aperture before he followed her inside. It sealed itself after they had passed, and Amegnon turned to the others.

"Steven, I assume you'll handle the outstanding issues?"

"I will, Arch-magus. I can get together with Berin this afternoon to hammer out the details."

"Anything else?"

"I have nothing, Arch-magus," Voqua said.

"No," the Hammer intoned. She had looked bored the entire inspection. That was better than filled with murderous rage, but Amegnon didn't trust it.

"Well then, make any final preparations, and I'll see you back here in a little under two days time."

Two days. He had a few more preparations of his own to make, and time was running shorter than he would have liked.

* * *

Olivander paced at their camp. They had been there for a little over two weeks, and it had changed in many ways. He had summoned a small army of feast golems who had been surprisingly efficient at constructing a few temporary buildings at the camp. The only downside was every surface was etched with images of utensils or piles of food. It made the walls somewhat challenging to look at.

"How's Greg?" Fezzic asked. The goblin was sitting in a chair in one of the new cabins, taking a break from his alchemy and reading a book on Transmutation, to Olivander's chagrin.

It wasn't that Olivander didn't think transmutation magic was useful, it was, but he was often of the opinion that conjuration was simply superior. True, anything he conjured had a finite duration unless supported by a specific skill, like Sous' summoning token, but conjuring things was just so much more convenient.

"Gregory is doing well. I was going to pull him out after a week, but I can sense he's made steady progress. He's been down the sixth level at least once. I didn't expect him to get that far on his own. I was going to bring him back and send Gloria down with him. Maybe there's someone else there already?"

"Who would go there? Isn't that place a death trap?"

"I'm surprised you don't know. It's actually where shamans send their apprentices as a rite of passage. I've been to the mines on numerous occasions, the fourteenth level has some incredibly hard-to-find materials, and I have run into several shaman apprentices."

"Oh, really? I don't actually know much about shamans. They kind of keep to themselves, and I've never had an interest in pursuing any of their magic."

"Fair enough. Anyway, I'm going to leave Gregory there until he hits a wall. It's been a little over two weeks, and his progress has been outstanding. I only have a vague sense of his power, but I think he might have either evolved a class or gotten another one. Perhaps a non-combat class?"

"Isn't he just down there fighting constantly?"

"Oh no, there's a lot of downtime. A certain amount of grinding is required to progress enough to beat each level, and the monsters there only reform so quickly. Not quite as fast as a typical dungeon, though the Dungeon Spirits often suppress that. No one likes fighting out of a dungeon."

"What about Cooper?"

"Alas, Harvey is blocking my perception of him. Naturally I'm doing the same thing with Gregory. It wouldn't be as exciting if I could just monitor his power growth. I do, however, have one sneaky trick. Harvey is probably aware, but does not care."

"What's that?"

"I gave Cooper a portal anchor. It lets me sense his location anywhere in the world. Right now he's on an island in the middle of the Great Storm Sea. It's a region not too distant from Emenicost. The island at the center of the storm is home to a powerful temple to a god of storms. Blast. That is an excellent spot to train him."

"Because he has that Storm Magician class?"

"Exactly. It's possible he could gain a special power or ability just by spending time there. Hmm. Well, nothing for it now. I can't think of a way to push Gregory harder, and I'm not about to do anything that might hamper Cooper. Regardless of my wager, I do want them both to grow, regardless of whether or not I win or lose."

Fezzic closed his book and looked at Olivander. "Should you get started on that research you mentioned? You know, in case you do lose. You said we were two years from the end of the world, and Gregory and Cooper are supposed to be training for three months. That's an eighth of our time. It just seems risky to play wait and see. I really don't want some monster destroying the world."

Olivander sighed. "You're probably not wrong. I'm sure any findings could be helpful either way. Maybe I can even slow down the tap, reduce the burden on the Keeper...You know Fezzic, I'm glad I ran into you, you're always so sensible."

"I do what I can."

"Well, except the eating bones thing."

"Don't you have some research to go get started? Also I haven't seen Herman in days, did you kill him?"

"He's fine! Probably. There's food in there. I think."