I stared for far too long and probably in an embarrassing way. She had to be from Nathuria, the magical realm the incident opened us up to. As if newfound magic wasn’t enough, we also learned of other beings in another realm. The whole thing really was a mindfuck.
She looked human, but something felt off. Maybe it was the way she moved and held herself, as if she were attached to strings from the clouds. Each step was so smooth, like she was gliding instead of walking.
Until recently, magic only existed in fiction. Now, random people, like say,a single mom with no life beyond being the parent of a college student, had powers.
The Magic School website mentioned that each person had natural talents in certain powers like conjuring, or transforming into animals, or seeing the future.
I had considered what my special talent would be more than a few times. Perhaps I’d be a magical florist. Or a human sparkler when I got emotional. Either way, I was here to figure that out, and really hoped it was something actually useful.
Moving from the fountain, I eyed the yellow tables she’d gestured to. A flash of blue blinded me, and I stilled. “Have you registered, miss?”
“What the—”
As my sight cleared, a face came into view. Well… sort of a face. A see-through blue male stood a foot from me. I glanced around the figure, then followed his body down to a metal circle on the ground with a blue light.
“I apologize,” the opaque man said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I am a hologram here to assist you.”
The hologram brushed back his curly waves.Was he based off a real person or some AI technology?Holograms were new, and I wasn’t a tech person to really understand how it worked. He shifted from foot to foot, and I snapped out of my thoughts.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask?”
He lifted a shimmering finger upwards like he had an idea. “Have you registered, miss?”
“Not yet.”
He blinked and tilted his head to the side with a grin. “I can get you pre-registered now, if you’d like. Then all you have to do is check in at the table to grab your room card.”
Overwhelm dug its nasty hooks into me. New, worldwide magical powers, magic school, magic realm visitor, holograms that popped out of nowhere. It was a lot, and I was beginning to sink under the weight of it.
Again, I hated doing this alone.
“Okay,” I rasped out.
Normally, I was a decent conversationalist. The magic and sheer intensity of this experience thus far had left me staggering. And exhausted. It had been a long couple of months.
The hologram’s eyes closed but started to shift back and forth like he was dreaming.
In the ten seconds of silence my shoulders finally relaxed. Then, his eyelids shot open. “Done. Temperance Carmichael, age thirty-five, single, from the United States. You are now registered.”
Did he really need to sayallthat?
I mean, I was thirty-five and single, but there wasn’t a need to advertise it to the whole courtyard.
“Welcome to the McKenzie Institute for Magical Adults,” he continued. “Unless there is anything else I can assist you with, please proceed to the yellow tables.” He waited for me to answer with a blank stare.
“I’m good. Thanks for helping.”
Without a word, the hologram disappeared into the circle, and the blue light vanished. I’m left staring at the spot he used to be, mind reeling at how the contraption even worked.
“Let’s move it, Tempie,” I muttered as I shook away my daze. My empty stomach growled in agreement, and I got moving.
Drawing from the last bit of airport coffee energy, I found my way to the check-in tables, only for an elderly group on a mission to scoot in before me. Being old had its privileges, I guessed.
A young woman with bright red hair and a tablet in her hands smiled in greeting. “Welcome to the McKenzie Institute. What are your names?” she asked the group as four more registration workers jumped into action to get them sorted, which left just two ladies in front of me.
The first to give her name wore a bright yellow jacket and black leggings tucked into purple boots. Her white hair was twisted into a bun on top of her head. “Imogene Behar. It’s pronounced EM-O-GENE. Bay, like the water, and Har, like hard morning wood.”
Excuse me, what?!
