Though being normal is not a word that has ever existed in the magical world, ever. For there are days where the blazing griffons fly and spirited unicorns’ brawl. Days where spells fail and giant plant beasts grow to mammoth sizes, wrecking mayhem on the magical world. Of course, that is only when the strange happens and errors exist. 

I suppose being peculiar is not always the best of things, however, when others do not particularly enjoy looking at the different. Encounters I have had, well, there have been many, far too many. Some bloody whilst others are just white noise, but it is safe to say bad blood has been spilled in my short, eclectic life. 

“Kyra Elizabeth, get your nose out of that journal and join us for supper!” Mum shouts from down below and chills rise down the crooks and crannies of my back. I let the shivers echo about and dissipate, allowing them to settle like waves in a pond. 

“Coming!” My voice bounces around the walls of my old, rickety bedroom. The weathered floorboards let out an exasperated plea for help when I push myself up from the desk I sit upon. I find myself looking at the journal I was writing in only moments ago, and a smile meets my face. Perfectly peculiar, huh, I guess that is true. 

My hands trace over the yellow tinted paper; it feels rough to the touch.

Eslophys tree paper is only found in the depths of the Mysel forest of the magical world. Described as stockier, it is perfect for writing smoothly, for the pen or pencil simply just glides over its surface so easily. This journal has become a favorite of mine rather quickly because of its unique properties. Red, leather binding, eslophys paper, and a rather dashing green and purple pen to settle after it, though only because it has a bit of sparkle when you cast it through a nanoem light. 

My feet cross the mahogany brown floorboards as my balance wavers from heel to toe. My heart thumps against my chest like a bass drum; it is as if my body is begging for me to spend only a minute more in my own little microcosm, just a single more moment of calamity. 

“Kyra!” 

“I said I am coming!” 

My hand touches the cool, silver metal handle, and I find myself pushing down slightly, letting the door screech open, rather loudly, might I add. I suppose oil might be needed for the hinges before they get to be to the point of unbearable yelling; there is only so much time left for those poor, old hinges. 

I cast my feet down the staircase to my right and pass by a few paintings. I take a moment and stop on the staircase looking to see what the canvases have to offer today. There are endless things the magical world has to offer when it comes to shopping, one of my personal favorites has been the changing paintings. For every twenty-four hours, the canvases will change to a new painting, no two ever the same.

Today, on the larger of the two canvases, it is a beach with a pirate boat in the background; the waves appear to be rough and stormy, antagonizing the poor sailors that are bound to the sea. Lighting dances around the sky whilst rain torments the sailors with, appealingly, running down in heavy sheets. I am sure glad I am not within that picture, for that must be terrifying. 

“For the love of God, Kyra,” Mum starts to berate me as I finish walking down the steps and enter the kitchen. My eyes instantly burn from the bright, sterile white lights. I sit myself at my usual seat on the old, red-cushioned chair that no matter how many times you wash it, that one stain will never come out. Yeah, that type of chair.

“You’re even worse than Ace when he has to go to school.”

“Hey, what did I do?” Ace exclaims, and I let out a laugh, irritating the eleven-year-old menace. He scowls at me, his blue eyes shooting through my heart and whispering torturous words into my soul. Brown hair sits on top of his head and falls into his eyes, starting to get a little bit too long for my liking, though I have no say in his style preferences.

 I stick out my tongue at him, and he does the same to me. Some have called us carbon copies, especially with the wild hair and crystalline eyes, but I would like to say that we are nothing alike, because, certainly, I have the better personality. Well, at least, I say so. 

“Elk chop for you,” Mum puts a plate in front of Ace, and he looks at it with disgust deep within is his eyes. His nose tilts up slightly as his facial complexion pales,

“Elk, again?”

“Would you prefer not to eat?” She gives him the glare. We all know what the glare is, you know, the one that startles your heart into racing so fast that you think a hollow were running after you with claws extended and fangs ready to chomp. A shiver casts down my spine; I would prefer the elk chop than one of those glares. 

Mum puts a plate in front of me, and I muster up a small smile while thanking her in the process. Elk certainly is not my favorite meal, but it is better than cereal for dinner. God, I cannot eat cereal for dinner if I tried, for it is just too. . . well, it just is not practical. 

“Unlike you little arses, I love elk.” Father proclaims as he strides into the room, suit and all. He wears a large smile, though I can see through those pearly white teeth. He is not so secretly dreading the tough meat and bland taste because mum, well, she only prepares chicken, elk, and occasionally pork. She is not the best cook, thought certainly not the worst. She burns, perhaps, fifty percent of what she cooks, and, at times, it is like she forgets that seasoning exists. But, hey, it is food after all. 

Father gives mum a kiss on the cheek before sitting, also, in his assigned chair. His eyes look exhausted after a long works day at Holloswift academy. Wrinkles are scattered on the edge of his eyes as he is slightly slumped over from the pure exhaustion of the repetitive, more malicious work you can imagine. You see, father is one of the best professors at the academy as he teaches bottony magic. Granted, he is the one behind the whole gargantuan plant monster mix-up, but that is beside the point. 

Mum puts a plate in front of him before sitting in her own seat with a plate to her name. She appears to be content with having the whole family in one room, each one somewhat happy with the food presented on the table. For, we have been in our own little universes for the entire day, so to have a moment of unity, it is well appreciated by mum. 

“So,” I start aloud, breaking the very much uncomfortable silence, “How was your day, father?”

“Same old same old, preparing for the school year, meetings, research. Speaking of preparing for school,” he gives me a big smile and I know what is bound to happen next. I can feel it deep within my bones, knowing what is about to escape his lips, “are you ready to meet your familiar?” 

Am I ready to meet my familiar? What kind of bogus question is that? Of course, I am ready to meet my familiar, I have waited seventeen bloody years to meet my new partner in crime, my plus one. 

“Well, of course! They will be my best friend. Like you and Cherrir!” I am referring to Cherrir, my father’s familiar who so happens to be a classic black cat. Black cats are some of the most common familiars as they rank in the C-class. There are four classes: C, B, A, and S. C being the lowest class and S being the highest. Mum has a B-level familiar which is Ellenie, a small white-tailed deer. 

What is unique is that varying on your familiar, there is a niche set of magic that you can use. For example, people who have owls, a C-class familiar, are specially equipped with better telekinetic abilities as well as the ability to manipulate light. Of course, they can perform other spells, but that is what they are, most times, best at.

That is, perhaps, the main reason I am so excited for my familiar, because I can finally uncover what my niche powers will be. It could be absolutely anything!

“What do you think, Mum? What will my familiar be?” I cut a piece of my elk and look Mum in the eyes as she ponders for a second. 

“I think you’ll be like your father here and have a black cat,” she says proudly, and, as if on cue, Cherrir waltzes into the open room with his mundane ringing of the bell around his collar. He looks at my dad and lets out a small, “meow” before looking back at me and giving a devilish smile. His whiskers rise, and his eyes widen slightly as they blink slowly. 

“He says that he would be thrilled to have another friend,” Father responds, and I nod my head. One neat thing about familiars is they can talk to their witch or wizard in human tongue. However, it is only with their specific witch or wizard, to others it will sound just like a normal animal. 

“What? is Ellenie not enough for you, Cherrir?” 

Another meow is released, and, this time, father laughs. He shakes his head and Cherrir decides to leave the area, appearing somewhat bored as he closes his eyes, attempting to keep awake. Typically cat familiar. 

“Where is Ellenie, by the way, mum?” 

“She’s out back. A bit of research today went, well, let us say berserk, and she ended up a bit filthy. I need to give her a quick rinse before she can come inside.” I nod my head. Mum is technically a researcher for the board of wizardry, but it is more of an unofficial job. She wants to declare herself as an early retired citizen, but she secretly loves to do research. Her niche is in nature and everything that surrounds it. 

I finish up my elk as Mum and Father decide to dive into a chat about their personal workdays. After a few more bites, I declare myself as full and bring my plate over to the sink, cleaning it quickly. 

“Thank you, mum. I will see you tomorrow.”

I give her a peck on the cheek, but before I even have a chance to make my way up the steps of the staircase, my attention is brought back downwards towards the kitchen.

“Kyra,” Mum declares, I turn towards her direction. “Tomorrow we are going to get your school materials.”

“Yes, Mum!” I respond and then hurry up the steps. My heart beating excitedly as there is only one thing that means: I get to enter the endless boundaries of the magic world tomorrow! 

Food! Animals! Spellbooks! Shops! 

I mean, the possibilities are endless! 

I close my door and lean my back against the wooden frame. My breath is slightly erratic from rushing up so fast, my head also spinning just a smidge. I take in a few deep breaths and calm down; I cannot tell if this is from excitement or nerves!

“Oh my god!” I squeal with excitement as I just up and down, the floorboards beneath me squeaking ever so slightly. I stop quickly, only because I do not want to attract any unneeded attention. 

I hurry over to my desk, taking small steps in between to not create too much noise. I look back to my unfinished journal entry and pick up my pen once again. I turn on the lamp next to me; what is neat is that it is a nanoem lamp. To the ordinary, magicless, person it appears to be a normal light source, but, with the right equipment only produced in the magical world, it has special lighting properties. Such as producing sparkles, reading invisible ink, and even producing small, colored fires if you have the right material. 

I let out a soft breath and look to my relatively blank canvas of paper. I lift my pen up and continue to finish off where I last off, talking about Tia Maddox.