The Search for Magic: Normal

“Start by turning left… at the third fork turn right and then turn right again after five paces… pick the path that turns down… turn left twice… wait for the shift change it happens every thirty minutes… keep going straight… after a bit you will feel a steep incline as the space gets tighter… it will start getting colder, that’s how you know you are in the right room,” I remember Harry telling me the path as I pass through the final set of ducts. “You can force off the vent with blue paint with a bit of force.”

I slide myself carefully out of the vent, carefully placing the cover back over it. Holding up my lightsnap to see bits of the archives in the dim green light. I slide down the shelves, reading the file names until I find one I have not gone through already, pulling the folder out of the slot and flipping through the information.

“It’s just the same information as all the other files from this date.” I sigh under my breath. Going to put the file back, I spot something tucked in the back of the shelf. Reaching back, I dislodge the piece: a rectangular block about the size of a big key with a square bump on the top. It seems familiar, but I can not put my finger on what it could be. If I could get a clear look at it, I might know, but if I turn on the lights, I will draw attention from the guards.

I hear two sets of footsteps stop on the other side of the door. Quickly, I put back the file as a key slides into place. I try to remember which vent is the loose one as the door opens and the light turns on. With no time left, I wedge myself between two bookshelves, holding my breath.

Two men in white uniforms walk past me as they complain about nothing in particular. They stop at the shelf to my left and grab a few files; it feels as if it takes hours for them to finish, but in reality, it only takes a few minutes for them to complete their task and head towards the exit.

One opens the door as the other grabs his keys, “… okay, but do we have to– ACHCHOOO.”

“Gesundheit.” I realized what just happened as the word left my mouth. The two men turn around, and I try to seem as natural as possible. “Sorry, don’t mind me.”

The two exchange glances before one speaks, “This room is off limits to academy students. How did you get in here?”

Academy student? Wait, they think I am an asteinizen and a student of the academy. I guess I would look around the right age to a student up here, but how would I pass for any Asteinam citizen? Me in my loose-fitting hand-me-down clothes and worn, patched boots. I guess I have to roll with it. While I have no idea what academy they are talking about or how students of this academy should act, I can make stuff up that sounds believable.

“I was with my class when I got distracted, then I got locked in,” I say, putting up the front of being embarrassed.

The other guy makes a snap of realization, “Oh yeah, isn’t there a tour of students that is coming through right now? They normally pass through the archives.”

Both of them relax as if they have known me for years. The first man jokingly rolls his eyes. “Let me guess, your professor is Zimmerlin?”

Thank the arcana that worked. “Yes, that’s right, Professor Zimmerlin.” I try to match their relaxed energy.

“We had our Zimmerlin during our academy days, and this is classic Professor Z. I bet he is probably talking about teapots or fruit flies by now,” the second guy chuckles. “If I remember right, that tour should be in the clock tower by now: head down that hall, take a right, go up the first set of stairs until the last landing, and you should be close enough to get there.”

“Thank you so much,” I say as I run off in the direction that he was pointing. I keep running until I think that I am far enough away. I look around until I find a window that actually can open. After making sure the coast is clear, I slide out and close the window from the outside. Letting go of the side, I free-fall for a moment before I unfurl my wings from my back. Picking up the wind, beginning to glide, I easily blend into the avenger day traffic air of the upper city; no one would notice a deanitzen kid as long as nothing goes wrong. The massive, elegant buildings gleam in the sunlight as I spot the flat terracotta tiles of the plaza.

Landing on the kinship plaza, I fold my wing back into place and keep my head down while making my way to the train. More people began to press and push in all directions as I tried to get closer. I am almost there, one step in front of another–I see the smoke and I hear the yells:

“We will not sit back as they live above us and kill us for their lives as we fight like dogs in the streets for their scraps,” a man in a blue and red mask shouts from the center of the plaza with a handful of people in matching masks with blue and red touches surrounding him.

Other people start to notice them as well, causing them to run out of the square as peace-enforcers rush in. This causes more people to run. The men in masks start spraying blue and red smoky powder that makes my eyes and through burn. As the crowd begins to panic more, I try to rush forward towards the train, barely making it through before the doors close.

I try to catch my breath as the train begins to pull away from the square. Later today, the cleaner will clean the square, as they always do. Putting everything back to normal.