Flamethroat

Jack and I ascended the winding staircase, passing levels one and two along the way, catching glimpses of the inner workings.

We reached level three, which had a large sign indicating that it was indeed the level for the Human Registration Office, among other things. Instantly I knew that this was the department that made the flyers that plastered the town red. A young Mage at a desk was producing these flyers at an alarming rate. Her hands moved so fast, I knew that Speed must be her Power.

‘Stay close,’ Jack muttered from the corner of his mouth. ‘Let me do the talking.’

Jack had read my mind. At that moment I had been contemplating something rather silly. It took all of my willpower not to march up to the counter and demand to know where my family was. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, before nodding.

Jack approached the counter and blanched. The same red-eyed girl stood there, shuffling through papers on her desk.

‘Hello again,’ said Jack, looking over his shoulder. There was no way she could have beaten us here.

‘Good morning, sir, how may I help you?’

‘Uh … I would like to register my Human,’ said Jack, rather confused.

‘Of course, sir.’ She stacked her paperwork neatly and stood. ‘Please follow me.’

She led us down a handsome hallway, her red cloak billowing behind her.

‘So, was that your twin downstairs?’ Jack asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

‘No, sir. I am able to project multiple images of myself at once, in various places. You will find my likeness on all floors, helping as many visitors as possible.’

‘Wow. And you can concentrate on all of these projections at once?’ Jack asked.

‘I have been gifted with the Power to concentrate on hundreds of things at once, sir.’

‘Do you make mistakes often?’ Jack wondered aloud. I wished he would stop asking questions.

‘I do not make mistakes, sir.’

‘Are you an image now?’ Jack asked with raised eyebrows.

‘Yes sir.’

With a sideways glance at me, Jack quickly poked the red-eyed girl in the back, but his hand went straight through her. She was indeed an image.

‘Please refrain from touching the projections,’ said the girl, without a backwards glance.

‘Right. Sorry,’ Jack muttered. ‘So, where are you now? I mean, the real you?’

‘My physical form is currently located on level 5 of The Realm Headquarters, in a stasis chamber for maximum efficiency.’

‘Sounds like a tough job. I hope they pay all of your projections individually.’ He gave a laugh. I had to stop myself from smiling. The red-eyed girl did not bat an eyelid.

Clearing his throat nervously, Jack continued. ‘So, uh, what’s your name, anyway?’

The projection stopped and turned to look at Jack. Her piercing eyes were round. ‘No visitor has asked my name before.’

‘Oh,’ said Jack, almost walking through her. ‘Sorry.’

She stared. ‘I am Xara Swanson, Sir.’

It seemed Jack wasn’t sure what to say, so he just smiled instead. This seemed sufficient enough because Xara Swanson turned back around and continued leading us towards the Human Registration Office.

She took us into a large room with no windows, the room was dark and grimy. Candles flickered in brackets on the wall and there was a long metal table in the centre of the room. Two people stood beside this workbench. They must have been chatting, for they stopped and looked up as Xara, Jack and I entered the room.

‘Another Human for the Register, my lord and lady’ Xara said as she bowed herself from the room, with one last look at Jack and then she was gone.

‘Ah, excellent,’ said the man. He was short and greying, with a pointy little beard. The woman on the other hand was young, with ginger hair that was plastered back into a tight bun. She had a severe face, with a strong jaw.

‘How are you good sir?’ said the pointy-bearded man, striding forwards and taking Jack’s hand. ‘My name is Alastor Newman. At last, another Mage that has come to his senses. Thank you, thank you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Jack with wide eyes.

‘Serious business, I’m afraid. All for the good of Mage-Kind of course.’

‘Indeed,’ Jack agreed, then turning to the severe woman he said, ‘And what might I call you?’

‘Korra Waterson,’ she said, in a strangely feminine voice, ‘Head of the Human Registration.’

I saw Jack’s pupils dilate visibly as he realised who this woman was. ‘I … I am Adam Deacon.’

Jack and I had invented this alias that very morning. We felt a fictional name would be best.

‘Well, Mr. Deacon, we are very glad you have volunteered your property for our cause,’ Ms. Waterson said graciously.

‘Whatever it takes,’ Jack waved a hand dismissively. ‘Put the girl on your register.’

‘Of course,’ Mr. Newman gave a small bow. ‘If you could stand her over here please Mr. Deacon.’

Jack, with an apologetic look in his eyes, grabbed me by the arm and shoved me in the direction of The Realm officials.

‘Stay,’ He ordered sharply.

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