A force sank him deeper into a hole, sucking the life out of him. The depressing darkness surrounded him until he caught sight of the light, holding on to it with desire and then, there was a knock.

Being a light sleeper, Philip opened his eyes breathing heavily. The weather was growing darker by the minute and it took some seconds before he noticed it wasn't too late. The strange knock came again and he stepped out of the bed, wearing his shoes. He lived in an apartment where he knew nothing of his neighbours. Everyone seemed to mind their business and for three years, there had been no knock on his door—especially when he was around. Rechecking the time, he put on his jacket and opened the door.

Waiting outside, was a little old lady. Philip observed her—she had grey curly hair and a long hooked nose. He couldn't make out the wrinkles on her face, as it seemed like she was young and at the same time, elderly. Maybe she was a witch, he didn't know and wasn't interested in anything she had to offer.

"My name is Miss Avine Renshaw," she introduced herself. 

He didn't recognise that name from anywhere. Somehow, it sounded like something he had heard in a whisper a few days ago? That didn't matter. What he wanted to know, was what she was doing in front of his apartment. Philip eyed her and turned to look at the other apartments close to his. Did she purposely choose his apartment?

"I work for the Fantasy's Got Talent," she continued, without meeting his astonished facial expression. That had got to be a joke—he managed to laugh. Fantasy's Got Talent? The only thing he knew how to do was work and eat. There was no way he was going to some random Fantasy's Got Talent shit—No way, on God's green earth. He scrutinised her again, now he saw it clearly. She definitely looked like a joker. A serious one, at that. 

Philip smiled with a 'No shit, Sherlock'  facial expression—it was obvious she worked for the Fantasy's Got Talent show, maybe she performed as the Joker, Who knows? He attempted closing the door but she spread out her palms, signaling the wait sign then she used some sort of magic to generate a scroll and handed it over to him. He shot her a stunend look and looked at the scroll—it was a handwritten invitation to compete in the Talent show. 

He read it again and it said that he was to travel to the auditions were it was to be held. Jesus Christ. This wasn't a joke—he took that back, she wasn't a joker. This was real but he found it hard to believe. How did they figure out that he had magic? Just as he lifted up his eye from the scroll, the lady was no where to be seen again. He stepped out and looked around, but she was nowhere. She didn't even tell him how he was going to get there. Perhaps, she had read his initial expression of 'You look like a joker' and decided that he was going there on his own.

He got into his apartment and closed the door, still looking at the scroll. There seemed to be no clue of where the auditions were to be held—there seemed to be a sort of venue but it was vague. There was no map, nothing. God. He sighed and relaxed on his bed. 

He kept the scroll aside and laid down properly. It was time to return to sleep and forget about what he had just experienced. Then, he remembered something. He had magic—shadow magic, that is and he could use that to his advantage. He could use that to find a clue in the scroll. It had to be somewhere in there.

Philip took the scroll and created a fire—a dark fire, outlined with a blue colour. He raised the scroll and positioned his hand, with the magic, under the scroll. At first there was nothing, then he looked closely. Hidden letters began to appear in the scroll, beneath a signature name. 

Hallwood land.

Beneath the venue was another paragraph.

Close your eyes, say the words, step into your mind.

Nonsense. Philip closed his palm and the fire vanished. He wasn't going to be believe in some words written by a scroll, given by a witch—perhaps. Keeping the scroll aside, he pulled the duvet up to his waist and closed his eyes. 

A voice whispered that instruction in his ears; Close your eyes, say the word, step into your mind. Unfortunately, his mind was a mess but what if, something good could come out of this? What if he got the chance to acquire a new meaning for his life? He sighed deeply and let the silence fall and said the words. Nothing happened at first but he tried the second time and a third time. 

Suddenly, there was a bright light and he saw himself going down a colourful tube. Images of his painful memories surrounded the tube. He closed his eyes and ears. In a few seconds, he found himself standing on a cloud. It separated from the large body of cloud and moved on its own, towards a building—no, a castle. A white and ancient castle, surrounded by a mist. As the cloud drove him nearer to the castle, he could hear noises and from his observation, those were joyful noises. 

Philip hadn't arrived there yet, but he could percieve that something beneficial could proceed from this.