“Abyssal beings,

Walking the edge of twilight,

Listen to my call.”

Noah ignored the sound of slowly breaking glass and continued to push mana through his staff. The weakening connection between him and the Leyline needed to stabilise, otherwise the spell would fail. Who cares if his staff broke, there’s no point in it if he lost his magic.

He pushed through despite his shaking legs and rapidly draining mana.

“Abyssal beings,

Walking the edge of twilight,

Listen to my call.”

Howling winds tried to push Noah away from the middle of the magic circle. His white uniform robes whipped aggressively between his black pants and white boots. The silver flowery design at the edge of the robe gleamed from the magical light. He held onto his staff with a white knuckled grip. Candles that were once extinguished burst into flames twice their size as Noah poured more and more of his mana into the summoning circle.

“Stabilize, stabilize! They need to stabilize!” Noah thought. The exhaustion after this whole ordeal will be well worth it. He’d rather die, here and now, due to mana exhaustion than be another disappointment.

If he failed again like in the previous years, the professors will seal his mana away, and he would never be able to cast magic. And his mother? Oh, his mother will be most displeased. This is the last time he can prove himself.

He must succeed.

Failure is not an option.

“ABYSSAL BEINGS.”

Louder, he needed to speak louder.

“WALKING THE EDGE OF TWILIGHT.”

So loud, the spirits from beyond Al Tierra won’t be able to ignore him.

“LISTEN TO MY CALL.”

His voice will be heard.

“I SIGN MY WILL TO BE YOURS.”

This spell will not end in failure.

White emptiness greeted Noah when he opened his eyes. It was a familiar and quiet sight, for once more, he found himself in the space between realms.

Dread went through Noah when he first found himself in this space of nothingness. He was just a fifteen year old boy back then. Green behind the ears when it came to magic, but an eager child ready to get rid of his Imperfekta, the mana disease plaguing his body.

Fervid teenagers loved to test their skills during the annual summoning exams, even with the knowledge that none of them would be skilled enough to activate the runes they’ve created. They still wanted to try, and participated willingly amidst the rest of the exams they had to take and study for.

It was a mock exam where younger students honed their summoning circles. They were not obligated to participate until they were nineteen years old, and until then, the younger students never took it seriously.

Noah was one of the rare few who took every chance he got earnestly. Day and night he studied with barely any sleep. Books that were far beyond his class requirements were read and memorised, all so he could get his spirit guide sooner and have his Imperfekta fixed.

While the disease will never go away– the mana control he’d get aid for–will help at spell casting.

“Do not panic in the space between realms,” Professor Angharad once said with boredom dripping in his voice. He was one of the professors who oversaw the students required to summon a fire elemental, and was very clearly tired of repeating the same words every single year. “Just continue to walk until you see a door.”

Back then, Noah didn’t heed his words since he never expected to activate the runes on his first try. It was genuinely a surprise for everyone, including the supervisors of the exam, that he even managed to push enough mana through it without collapsing.

Despite his professors’ words, he did panic and ran around crying in the realm of emptiness because he thought he died. Who could blame him? No one told him the space in between the realms was like a blank piece of paper. Anybody would have thought they died.

Thanks to running around the empty space, he stumbled upon a white large double door that was not attached to any wall. They were just standing there, as white as the space itself, with ivory leaves and gnarled ashen branches growing in and out of it.

Relief washed through the fifteen year old, as he stopped in front of the curious thing. He fixed his white robes and wiped his damp cheeks on the end of his sleeves.

Noah pushed his hair behind his ears, gathered a deep breath to control his excitement and knocked gently on the door like the polite gentleman he was raised as. He took a step back and waited patiently with his hands behind his back.

Nothing happened despite knocking three more times. With a sigh, the teenager decided that today was not meant to be.

It was to be expected. Activating the magic circle was the first step, actually being granted entrance from the beyond was another. Regardless, many of the professors congratulated him on the successful activation of the summoning circle. They said it was rare for anyone to get a spiritual contract on their first try, that kind of genius only came once in a lifetime.

The professors expect the students to summon a guide at around seventeen years old. There were of course a few students who were granted entrance when they were sixteen, but that was after a couple of mock exams.

Nymphaea, as an international academy, never lacked ambitious students. Noah himself was one of them, as he was always aiming to be at the top of his class. While his theoretical knowledge was undeniably the best, his practical one was a stain on his otherwise perfect record. Controlling mana was far too difficult because of his Imperfekta.

Unless he found a good spirit guide to help him usher his mana in the correct pathways, he will never be able to cast the finer spells required for him to graduate and become an outstanding member of high society.

And thus, at age sixteen, he tried again. He knocked on the door and exclaimed into the void.

“Excuse me, is anyone there?”

No answer. He left with determined eyes to return another time.

At seventeen years old, silence greeted him all over again. It seems he’ll be one of the people who will graduate later than usual. That was fine, there’s nothing wrong with that. He bit his lower lip, but accepted the failure.

“Next year for sure.”

At eighteen, Noah slammed the side of his palms on the door. He rattled the door knobs and yelled for an answer from the other side, but as usual, he received no reply. With his teeth pressed together in an angry snarl, he slammed the side of his fists over and over again, until they tainted the white door red.

He knocked and yelled and begged until his voice was sore. The only thing he could do was lean his forehead on the white wood and whisper to himself.

“I only have one year left…”