The Court of Miracles

The shock was almost too much, the sense of power, of change nearly overwhelmed him, but she kept him steady as they passed through the doorway. It was an unexplainable feeling he had, a sudden knowledge of the boundary that had been crossed. He felt it as a physical sensation, felt the world shift, felt reality slide and stretch for a moment, as if the fabric of existence was warped where he tried to pass through it. Twice before he had felt this. Once with his first sexual contact, and once when visiting a decommissioned nuclear reactor. There was tremendous power in both experiences, though the taste of each was completely different. The first tasted of possibility, the second tasted of sunderings. This, though, this tasted like everything at once, like freedom and confinement, like discovery and mystery.
He recovered his sense quickly and took in the sights around him. The gentle pressure on his arm kept him from losing himself completely in the sudden newness and he was grateful for her presence.
The room was crowded, but it did not feel stuffy. He felt as if he suddenly knew what was meant by the phrase “a sea of faces.” So many colors and styles, so many sizes and types. Many watched him expectantly, but just as many went about their business, whatever it was, without indicating any interest in his sudden arrival.
An ageless woman, beautiful and regal, detached herself from the crowd before him, flanked on two sides by young girls. Shakily, she stepped away from their arms to look him in the face.
“Welcome,” she said with a clear voice, “to the Court of Miracles.” She burst into tears and one of the young women stepped forward to take her arm again. Turning they vanished into the crowd before he could respond to her greeting, or her sudden shock of grief.
Welcome, said the echo coursing through the throng, to the Court of Miracles.