Chapter 1: Welcome to Spellbound America

The smell of Number 2 pencils still clung to my clothes when the world blinked—and suddenly, I was somewhere else. Somewhere magic. And somehow, it felt more American than the SATs themselves.

The air still smelled faintly of stress and graphite as I replayed the last question in my head, only to realize everything had shifted—the air shimmered, fireworks-bright, like Hogwarts crashed into a Fourth of July parade.

During the academy tournament, our oldest senior lost because he couldn’t answer what 4×8÷2−3 equals.

I could practically hear every math teacher in America groan in unison. The poor guy looked like he’d just realized he’d left his lunch at home—again.

Second senior sister was regretfully eliminated because she couldn’t understand the question, “What’s your name?”

She froze when her opponent asked, "What’s your name?" in flawless Spanish—like she’d been asked to recite the Pledge of Allegiance backwards.

Watching her confusion was like witnessing someone blank at the Starbucks counter when the barista asks for their order—a mix of panic and pure blankness.

Third senior brother was gravely injured because he couldn’t recite the next line after, “When the maple leaves fall, the blue jay cries.”

Poetry battles apparently have real consequences here; who knew AP English could save—or cost—you your life?

Later, I learned that in this world, everyone possesses six major talents:

English, Math, History, Physics, Chemistry, and Biology.

Not gonna lie, I felt like I’d been shoved into some weird cross between the National Spelling Bee and a Marvel origin story.

My hands shook. Was this a dream, or had I finally cracked under the pressure? I pinched my arm, hard. The sparkles didn’t fade. I was completely baffled—totally at a loss.

Your magic system… seems a little off, doesn’t it?

Even by American standards, this was next-level quirky.