The pure white door was as grand as ever in the empty space. Noah approached slowly and knocked calmly.

He waited and waited, and waited some more, but as usual, there was no answer.

A tired sigh escaped his lips before determination flashed in his green eyes.

Any other person would have given up by now, forced to admit their inevitable loss and quietly say goodbye to their magic. They’ll hang their heads low and accept their new position as outsiders in society. Perhaps they’ll even find a way to Ghula, where the magicless were said to be more welcomed.

But he was Noah von Vinter, son of Noelle von Vinter, and his mother did not raise a quitter.

Ever since his failure last year, Noah did everything to find a way to open the door. He learned about the people who had their magic sealed, searched and bought dubious artifacts that could help him, scoured the vast library of Nymphaea day and night, just for the tiniest chance, that he might find something which could help him. He even bought chalk that was said to increase the chances of the door’s opening.

If he wasn’t so desperate, he would have thought it was all nonsense.

Noah would have most likely failed his classes if it weren’t for his mother keeping an eye on his grades. The temptation to give up his dance classes was high, but his friend Nomusa advised him against it. She said that taking a break from researching to move his body around, would help clear his mind and give him inspiration on how to proceed, and he was incredibly grateful he listened to her advice.

An idea came to him when he stumbled upon a step during dance practice and scraped his palm upon landing. The blood oozing out reminded him of the last time he stood in front of the white door. The bitter taste of helplessness was hard to forget, along with the pain of his swollen hands and the warm blood that dripped from his finger tips.

That was when he realised, if there was blood, there was magic.

“This is my last chance,” he thought and bit the edge of his thumb as hard as possible. His canines dug into his skin until red liquid seeped out.

Crimson stained the white door like a painting on blank canvas.

The magic circle he’s drawing was risky and would land him in big trouble if anyone ever found out he’s casted it. Usage of the blood in magic was considered dark and taboo by Hexenzirkel law, but nobody had to know Noah cast this spell.

It was truly pure dumb luck on his part when he found notes of this magic array tucked loosely in between a library book he was flipping through.

The spell was simple in nature, even a first year Sprout student could make it, but the requirement of blood was what made it a taboo. This magic circle had the ability to make anything it was drawn on rot.

Chances of the professors sensing the spell was high, so Noah never dared to try if it worked in the real world. Maybe he should have tried it outside academy grounds, but the ghouls in the forest weren’t exactly going to be a pleasant encounter. Even worse would be, if one of the knights in training found him because they were patrolling the area. Going to Eridani, the small city at the foot of the mountain Nymphaea was built on, was out of the question.

Such populated areas generally have magic sensors that will alert the local guards if there was any dark magic casted inside their walls.

Noah truly had no way to test out if the spell could work.

He’s about to find out for the first time, if a magical door in a realm devoid of colour was part of the “anything” in the note’s description.

Blood magic was finicky and can often lead to unexpected results. It was one of the reasons why the Hexenzirkel deemed it forbidden. Anything and nothing can happen.

Mana was poured into the magic circle and Noah watched in excitement as it glowed. The blood crawled and spread out like spiderwebs on the door. The once pristine hinges and ornate door handle became covered in rust. The plants weaving around the once grand entrance flourished, died and flourished again, mimicking an odd play of the seasons passing by. White paint chipped away through the passage of time, until he was left with nothing but dilapidated wood on rusty hinges.

“Damn, it really worked,” Noah muttered in wonder.

The door handle rattled and Noah let out an annoyed sigh. He kicked open the door and left the pure white world to walk through a pitch black darkness.

“Knock, knock. Excuse me,” he said with a pleasant smile.

A strange humming sound emanated from the darkness Noah now finds himself in. Ironically enough, it reminded him of white noise and static heard from radios. The longer he walked through the darkness and left the light from the other side of the white door, the louder the sound became.

Noah stumbled on his steps as a headache pierced through his mind. The pain travelled from the back of his skull all the way to his forehead and made his eyes throb. Cold sweat ran down the nape of his neck as several voices spoke all at once in his head.

“HE FORCED THE DOOR OPEN.”

Young, old, male, female and everything in between and beyond spoke in his mind. They were an ethereal tinkling of bells and the guttural roars of thunder.

He closed his eyes, gnashed his teeth together and tried to focus on something else. Anything to ignore the voices in his head.

One, two, three.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Tiny strands of hair clung at the back of his neck. His palm bled from his fingernails piercing through skin.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Silence.

Twinkling stars gleamed all around him once he finally managed to open his eyes. Small and fragile light showed him what lay beyond the darkness.

The sight would have been beautiful, even magical, if it weren’t for the rolling pairs of eyes looking around the abyss. They moved back and forth, ice cold and predatory until finally, all the hungry sets of eyes set their sights on him.

A scream tried to wrench itself out of his lungs, but he bit his tongue before his mouth could open.

“Do not show fear in front of adversity. Do not let the hyenas know you’re weak,” his mother once gave him this advice on a sad gray rainy day, while huddled under the black umbrella she carried. He clung to the skirts of her dark dress back then and pressed his lips together to swallow a wail.

A practiced smile bloomed on Noah’s pretty face as he bowed gracefully.

“Good day, dear spirits,” he said. “I apologise for barging in like that. I am Noah von Vinter and I come here to acquire your guidance.”

Noah straightened and waited for them to finish muttering amongst themselves. Try as he might, he couldn’t understand them. Their voices blended together in an unsettling echo.

He could do nothing but await their final verdict.

Time seemed to pass by quickly and slowly simultaneously, while the abyssal beings hissed amongst each other. Until finally, a guttural voice growled in the darkness.

“TOO MUCH.”

The eyes shifted around, skittering in every direction as they echoed their agreement.

“TOH E O M W IL L U CO NSU C M EU H S.”

Panic rose up in Noah’s chest as one by one, the eyes closed.

“Wait! I don’t know what you mean,” he said with a shaky voice and fell to his knees. “Please, don’t leave!”

An illegal spell was cast just to get to this point. There was no way he was going back to the summoning room empty handed. He’ll do anything, even discard his pride as the son of the revered Noelle von Vinter and beg, as long as it means his magic won’t get sealed.

As long as he doesn’t become a failure, a disappointment.

He’ll do anything.

“Please!”

Darkness welcomed him once more.