The interior of the USISIS building was an intricate symphony of bureaucracy and enchantment, where the mundane drudgery of government work intertwined with the dazzling marvels of the supernatural. The vast chamber hummed with restrained energy, the air thick with the weight of rules and regulations yet alive with flickers of otherworldly beauty. Polished obsidian floors reflected the luminous glow of crystalline conduits crisscrossing above, each one carrying glowing capsules filled with application forms, permits, and magical documents that pulsed with faint, otherworldly energy. These capsules zipped through the air like enchanted comets, weaving seamlessly through the complex web of portals and pneumatic stations.
Massive spiral staircases wound into infinity, their surfaces etched with runes that pulsed softly as they rotated, appearing to climb into the misty reaches of the heavens. Ethereal whispers, like faint echoes of past conversations, could be heard near the steps, a phenomenon said to be the residue of countless appeals, arguments, and negotiations. The ceilings stretched high above, lost in a mesmerizing fog that shifted with vibrant hues and surreal patterns, like the auroras of some distant celestial plane.
The main chamber teemed with activity, an eclectic blend of species from across the supernatural world, each one waiting to undergo the often-dreaded process of visa evaluation or residency registration. Towering orcs stood in orderly lines, their weathered hands clutching holographic forms that hovered in front of them, glowing softly with rune-encoded questions. A pixie flitted impatiently near a processing desk, their wings trailing faint motes of glittering light as they chirped at a stern-looking gnome clerk in a crisp suit who tapped furiously at an enchanted tablet.
Dwarves in intricately woven tunics sat on benches carved from living stone, their forms steady and immovable as they discussed their applications in low, rumbling tones. Elves glided through the lines with graceful precision, their luminous eyes scanning floating informational panels that displayed the intricacies of the bureaucratic process. A family of hobbits huddled together near a seating area, the parents poring over enchanted guidebooks while their children gazed wide-eyed at the swirling magic overhead.
Humans, too, were scattered among the crowd, blending seamlessly with the supernatural beings. Some looked confident and businesslike, others awed or overwhelmed as they adjusted their positions in the seemingly endless queues. Goblins scurried through the aisles, clutching stacks of documents bound with glowing threads, their movements sharp and efficient. A werewolf in a tailored blazer nervously adjusted their collar as they approached the counter, their claws clicking against the rune-etched desk.
Behind the counters, an army of clerks worked tirelessly, each station glowing with magical energy. Goblins, elves, and even spectral attendants handled the process with an almost mechanical efficiency. Enchanted quills floated midair, scratching out decisions on applications as clerks murmured incantations that sent paperwork flying into the crystalline tubes overhead. Occasionally, a glowing sphere floated down, delivering instructions in a soothing voice to an applicant who looked entirely lost.
Despite the inherent beauty of the place—the shimmering fountains of liquid starlight, the symphony of soft magical hums, and the surreal, otherworldly glow—there was no mistaking the oppressive weight of the system. The air was heavy with rules, forms, and the silent, omnipresent authority of an institution that was equal parts wondrous and unyielding. It was a place of both infinite possibility and crushing order, where the extraordinary gathered to face the mundane realities of registration and evaluation.
Haley guides Kain to one of the registration desks, where a clerk—a rather stern-looking, silver-haired elf—waits, pen hovering in the air, ready to assist.
As they move through the hall, Kain can’t help but feel his stomach knotting up. His thoughts drift to his forged identity as Seth—a carefully crafted alias Doc had insisted on, prepared for any potential run-ins with the law. But this… this was the magical government. Would his fake documents, forged with the utmost skill, hold up against their scrutiny? Or would they somehow sense the disguise, exposing him on the spot?
He gulps, glancing at Haley, who’s smiling and casual, clearly taking this all in stride. Meanwhile, a thousand questions race through his mind. Probably… it’ll hold, right? he tries to reassure himself. After all, he’d taken every possible precaution.
As they approach the registration desk, the stern-looking elf, a tall, poised woman with silvery hair pulled into a sleek braid, glances up. Her features are striking and elegant, with sharp, intelligent eyes and the faintest hint of Scandinavian runes subtly engraved on her cheeks, like silver lines that catch the light. Her presence is no-nonsense, the sort of person who exudes authority with every movement. She watches them approach, her expression neutral but intense.
“Yo, Freya!” Haley greets her with an easy smile, that laid-back swagger seeping into her voice. “How’s it goin’, girl? Holdin’ it down for the Álfar today, huh?”
Freya’s expression softens just the faintest bit, though she keeps her composure. “Haley,” she says in a precise, Scandinavian-accented tone, nodding in acknowledgment. “You’re as… informal as ever, I see.” She raises an eyebrow, clearly not disapproving, just observing. “And what brings you here today?”
Kain watches their exchange, taking in Freya’s dignified appearance with a sense of awe. Her uniform is pristine, adorned with insignias of her rank and position within USISIS. The glinting runes on her cheeks and her commanding presence make her feel almost mythic, a person steeped in tradition and lore.
After a brief exchange with Haley, Freya turns and fixes Kain with a sharp look, one eyebrow raised. “Have you had your fill of staring, or should I pose?” she asks, a hint of wryness slipping through her otherwise formal tone.
Kain blinks, realizing he’s been caught, and stammers an apology. “Oh—sorry. I didn’t mean to… It’s just, well, I’ve never seen an Álfar before.”
Freya’s stern expression shifts just slightly, a faint smile touching her lips as her demeanor softens a bit. “An Álfar, hm?” She nods approvingly, clearly pleased by his use of the term. “Not everyone is quick or respectful enough to use the proper name. You have an observant ear, I’ll give you that.”
Haley smirks, noticing the subtle change in Freya’s attitude. “See? Told you he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Anyway, Freya, we’re here to make him an official Sea-tizin. He’s new to the community and needs his visa and naturalization papers, so we’re gettin’ him all set up.”
Freya nods, her professional tone back in place, though there’s a newfound warmth in her gaze as she looks at Kain. “Very well. Mr..." she begins to say "Kain" he replies as he puts out his hand "Mr. Kain we’ll start with your application. Follow me to the registration room, and we’ll take care of the formalities.” She mutters, a small handshake and a quick gesture for him to follow after, Freya glances at Haley with a knowing look. “And, Haley, try to behave yourself this time.”
Haley chuckles, falling into step beside Kain as they follow Freya. “Me? I’m always on my best behavior,” she says with a wink, making Kain feel a little more at ease as they head deeper into the magical bureaucracy of USISIS.
Freya led Kain and Haley down the long, gleaming hallway, which, at first glance, looked perfectly ordinary—until it wasn’t. The polished stone floor underfoot seemed to shift as they walked, faintly glowing as though it recognized their presence. With every step, soft swirls of light spread outward from their feet, as if the floor were greeting them with quiet excitement. Along the walls, runes etched into the stone glimmered faintly, rearranging themselves as the trio moved past, almost as though they were gossiping in a language too ancient to understand.
Above their heads, chandeliers of what appeared to be floating crystal shards hung suspended in the air, casting a gentle, ever-shifting golden light. Each shard seemed to hum faintly, their vibrations almost imperceptible, except when one occasionally struck a slightly off-key note, causing the others to shiver and realign with a faint ping.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The walls themselves were alive with magic. As they passed, sections of the stone rippled like water, revealing fleeting images of landscapes—verdant forests, glimmering underwater caverns, and swirling starry skies—before solidifying again. Haley reached out toward one such ripple, only to gasp as her hand passed through the illusion and came back slightly damp with a faint scent of pine. “Oh!” she whispered, looking at Freya, who gave a wry smile and continued onward.
Here and there, magical oddities adorned the hallway, tucked into niches and alcoves. A row of enchanted quills floated in one corner, scribbling furiously on parchment that floated just behind them, even though the words faded as soon as they were written. A brass hourglass suspended in midair spun on its own axis, reversing the flow of its shimmering sand whenever someone glanced at it. At one corner, a small wooden cupboard stood, trembling slightly, as if its contents were desperate to be let out. A sign above it read: “Do Not Open Unless You Are Prepared to Negotiate.”
The hallway itself began to curve gently, and the air grew thicker with magic, like a warm blanket draped over them. The light dimmed slightly, replaced by the soft flicker of floating candles that appeared from nowhere, their tiny flames glowing in colors that shifted with each step—amber, lavender, emerald, and a soft, silvery blue. A faint, enchanted breeze rustled past them, carrying the scent of parchment, lavender, and something sweetly metallic, like warm coins.
As they turned one final corner, a door loomed before them, heavy and imposing. It wasn’t simply there—it seemed to grow out of the wall itself, its frame entwined with curling vines made of wrought iron that shimmered faintly with their own magic. The wood of the door was ancient, gnarled, and dark, but polished to a sheen that revealed faint, ghostly figures of people etched into its surface. Occasionally, one of these figures would shift, as though peering at the newcomers.
Freya stepped forward, her hand hovering just above a golden rune at the door’s center. “It always does this,” she muttered, as the rune blinked sleepily, pulsing with a lazy golden light. After a pause, the door let out a long, groaning sigh, and the vines framing it receded with a metallic creak. It swung open, revealing a room bathed in a warm, magical glow.
The chamber wasn’t like any ordinary office or hall. Freya led them into what appeared to be a blank, featureless space at first, but as soon as they stepped inside, the room came alive. The floor shimmered, runes spreading outward like cracks in ice, glowing faintly as they etched themselves into the surface. The air grew denser with magic, and a deep hum reverberated around them. Slowly, the space began to shift—walls rippling as though they were liquid, rearranging themselves until the room transformed into an elegant yet functional space tailored precisely for its purpose.
The room wasn’t just a place—it was an entity, responding to the unspoken needs of its visitors. Crystalline desks rose from the floor, one for each of them, glowing softly as floating parchments appeared midair, bearing intricate visa forms written in shimmering runes. Above each desk, orb-like magical assistants hovered, flickering with a curious, sentient energy. As Kain reached toward his, the orb pulsed warmly and projected a translucent hologram of instructions in front of him, narrated in a calm, soothing voice.
As the room finished settling, its transformation complete, Freya gestured for Haley and Kain to step further inside. Around the edges of the chamber, shelves embedded into the walls materialized, stocked with glowing artifacts, enchanted quills, and other mystical tools. A spiral of golden light descended gracefully from the ceiling in one corner, forming what looked like a queue system for completed applications. Every so often, a soft chime echoed as newly processed documents floated upward through the spiral, disappearing into unseen archives above.
“This is the Adaptable Assessment Chamber,” Freya said, her tone professional but easy, gesturing at the shimmering space. “It customizes itself to handle any magical residency application—regardless of species, background, or even dimensional origin. Quite handy, as you can imagine, though it does have its quirks. Don’t be alarmed if it asks for more information. It’s… thorough.”
Crystals embedded in the walls sparkled like captured stars, refracting rainbows across the floor, which was now carved with swirling runes that shifted softly, pulsing faintly like a living thing. Floating orbs of light hovered lazily above, their surfaces rippling with what appeared to be miniature galaxies spinning inside, casting faint celestial patterns onto the floor. The room hummed faintly, as if pleased to have new visitors, its energy alive but restrained, a perfect blend of order and enchantment.
Haley moved forward without hesitation, her expression casual. She’d seen rooms like this plenty of times before, but her familiarity didn’t diminish the faint buzz of magic prickling at her skin. She approached one of the crystalline desks that had risen from the floor, reaching out instinctively as an enchanted quill materialized midair beside her. A set of glowing forms unfolded neatly in front of her, their runes already aligning to her presence.
Kain, on the other hand, lingered behind, his gaze flicking from the floating orbs above to the intricate shelves stocked with artifacts, enchanted tools, and a suspiciously sparking row of bottled lightning. He took a cautious step forward as his own desk emerged from the floor, glowing softly as an enchanted quill appeared with a faint pop. The quill floated expectantly, almost impatiently, and Freya chuckled.
“Relax,” she said, her voice steady. “The first step is simple. This part of the application process is a fitness and mastery analysis. Think of it as an enhanced physical. We assess your baseline physical and magical capabilities to determine eligibility and potential for integration within the Sea-tizin community.”
Kain arched an eyebrow, staring at the desk and the shimmering forms that materialized before him. “Enhanced physical?” he asked warily.
Freya nodded, gesturing to a glowing orb that floated down and began projecting a set of golden diagrams into the air. “The system measures magical aptitude, control, and resilience. It also looks at physical fitness and adaptability to ensure candidates can handle life within the magical framework of our community. It’s straightforward but precise. Just follow the prompts.”
Haley smirked, her quill already gliding across the shimmering parchment in smooth, fluid strokes. “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she said, barely looking up. “Unless you’re bad at filling out forms. Then it’s a nightmare.”
Freya ignored Haley’s quip, instead motioning Kain toward a crystalline archway that had formed at the far side of the room. Runes etched along its edges glowed faintly as the room hummed again. “Once you complete the initial questions, step through the aptitude scanner,” she explained. “It will measure your energy core and conduct a basic compatibility scan. It’s painless. Mostly.”
Kain shot her a sidelong glance but sighed, stepping toward the archway as instructed. The runes along its edges flared to life, and faint streams of light began to swirl around him as he passed through, the energy wrapping around his form like tendrils of smoke. Freya watched closely, her expression calm but sharp, as the orb nearest the arch flickered with readouts of Kain’s measurements.
The room seemed to hum approvingly as Kain emerged on the other side, looking faintly bewildered but unharmed. “See?” Freya said lightly. “Not so bad. Now, just a few more forms, a deeper magical proficiency scan, and a brief consultation, and we’ll be finished.”
Haley snorted quietly. “That’s government talk for ‘we’ll be here all day.’”
Freya shot her a look but said nothing, turning back to Kain with a small smile. “It’s thorough because it has to be,” she said, gesturing for him to return to his desk. “Don’t worry. The Adaptable Assessment Chamber has handled far more complicated applicants than you. It knows what it’s doing.”
Kain let out a slow breath, staring at the quill as it floated beside him, ready to begin. The room, alive with quiet energy, hummed faintly once more as the process continued, its magic blending bureaucracy with beauty in a way only the supernatural world could.