Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door to an intimidating building I’d avoided for most of my time in this area.

The door opens, and I step inside, marveling at the glass windows, bejewels chandeliers, and other expensive furnishings that could feed my family for their whole lives.

I come to a desk where a bored looking man sits, staring at nothing in particular, and looking very disagreeable.

“Um, hello?  This is the Sixth Sector’s Magic Registration Office, right?”  I tap my fingers together nervously.

“Hurrah.  You have come to the right place.”  The man says, expressionless.  “Are you registered in another sector, or are you unregistered?”

“I’m unregistered?  I think?  I mean I’ve never-”

“Great.”  He sighs.  The man looks me up and down.  I tug at my coat as his gaze travels over my bare feet and dirty hair.

“Seem a bit old to be unregistered.”

I bite my lip.  “I wasn’t, um, informed there was an age limit?”

“There isn’t.  What did you say your name was?”

I hadn’t said my name, had I?  “Erika Bloomfield.”

He writes that down.  “Age?”

“Fifteen.  Since, uh, a month ago?”

“Follow me then.”  His bored tone hasn’t changed.

The man leads me into a small room that branches off the main hall into the southern wing of the building.

The light flickers on as we walk in.  The man stands at the entrance.  “Stay here.  Take your test.  I’ll be back when you’re done”

The door shuts with a click.