Karl stepped inside the room and felt a wave of stillness settle over his shoulders. The air was cool, and the only sound was the soft hum of lights. The room was large, but not echoing. Dim overhead light bathed the walls in gold while brighter, concentrated stage lights pointed toward a modest platform in the middle. Curtains hung on both sides, swaying slightly from the indoor draft. It was quiet..
In front of the stage, three judges were seated at a long desk. All witches. Each with a nameplate in front of them.
The witch on the left had long midnight hair twisted into a loose braid, her nameplate read: Moriah Ainsley, Script Director.
The one in the center had short ash-blonde curls and a striking presence, even though she wore a plain navy robe. Her nameplate read: Salena Veyne, Casting Director.
And on the right sat an older witch with sharp, angular features and a cloud of silvery-gray hair tied in a bun. Her nameplate read: Elda Brimthorn, Executive Producer.
Elda looked up from her notepad, her steely gray eyes landing on Karl with a flicker of impatience.
"Introduce yourself," she said, her voice curt and commanding.
Karl blinked, his lips parted nervously, but he caught himself. Deep breath. Wife said breathe.
"I’m Karl," he said, trying to smile. "Karl, uh... Karl Ruby Graves..."
There was a moment of silence.
Salena, the woman in the middle, smiled faintly, her red lips lifting just enough. "Which role are you auditioning for, Karl?"
"The fifth lead," he replied quickly, his hands clutched the script. "It’s a supporting role... but the character appears in key scenes."
Salena nodded, flipping through her copy of the script. "Ah yes. The role of Phailor."
Karl nodded again, this time more confidently. "Yes! Phailor."
Moriah, who had been doodling with a quill, finally looked up. "Explain to us who Phailor is, in your own words."
Karl paused for a moment and tried to remember.
"This movie is about a small coastal city where magical creatures live in hiding among normal citizens," Karl started, standing straight, his blue eyes reflecting the light. "There’s a rebellion brewing underground, and one of the royal heirs is disguised as a normal student. Phailor is a friend of the heir... but also secretly a spy for the opposing side."
Salena’s expression sharpened in interest.
Karl continued, "He’s torn. He genuinely grows fond of the heir, but he’s under a binding spell. In the end... he sacrifices himself to protect the heir by breaking the spell in a forbidden ritual."
Elda crossed her arms, now listening more intently.
"And why do you want to play this role?" Moriah asked, voice flat.
Karl looked at them, then looked at the script clutched in his hand. He smiled, but it was smaller, real. "Because I think I understand him. A bit. Sometimes you love people... but you don’t know if you’re doing the right thing. Sometimes, you mess up. But that doesn’t mean you don’t care. I think... Phailor’s like that."
A soft silence followed. Salena nodded, slowly.
"Alright," she said. "Page 38. Scene with the heir. Show us what you’ve got."
Karl walked toward the stage. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat. He glanced once toward the entrance, imagining Ruby sitting out there waiting. She believed in him.
So he opened the script... stepped into the light... and began.
Karl took his place at the center of the small stage, the bright lights making his skin feel warm, almost too warm. His heart thudded in his chest, but he gripped the script tighter and whispered to himself, "You can do this... wife believes in you."
He took a breath, stepped forward, and began.
"Why do you trust me? I’ve given you no reason... I’ve only brought trouble to your side."
His voice shook a little at first, the nerves clinging to his throat. His first line came out softer than he wanted. But he didn’t stop.
"If you knew who I really was, you’d never—"
He stumbled on the word "never," his tongue catching it wrong. "Neff... I mean... never..." He blinked, freezing.
There was a brief pause. Salena raised an eyebrow. Moriah looked down at her notes. Elda pursed her lips.
But Karl, instead of panicking, took a sharp breath, then dropped the script entirely.
"If you knew who I really was... you’d leave me. But I’d still choose to protect you. Even if you curse me after. Even if you forget my name. Even if I disappear in the wind like a lie told too many times."
His tone shifted — no longer a ghost reading from a page, but a character breaking in real time, holding back emotion, standing at the edge of betrayal and loyalty.
He looked offstage, his eyes shining, his expression deep and open.
The whole room went quiet.
Even Elda leaned forward slightly.
When Karl finally stopped speaking, he exhaled shakily and bowed.
"I... I’m done," he said softly, stepping back.
The three witches didn’t immediately react. Moriah scribbled something quickly. Salena nodded once to herself, and Elda crossed her arms tighter, giving no readable reaction.
"Thank you," Salena finally said. "You’ll receive your result by letter in the coming days."
Karl stood frozen for a moment, then gave a polite bow again. "Thank you," he whispered.
And with that, he walked off stage, not sure if he was going to cry or laugh.
Outside, he saw Ruby waiting. She stood near the corner, arms loosely crossed, pretending not to look tense. But her eyes immediately searched his face.
"I messed up a line," he blurted.
She blinked. "Just one?"
"But I think I saved it," he said quickly, cheeks pink. "I dropped the script. On purpose! Then I just... said what I remembered. I did good, right? I mean... maybe not perfect-good. But... Karl-good?"
Ruby blinked once, then a small smile curved her lips.
"You did Karl-good," she said.
He grinned like a little kid, proud and shy all at once.
Suddenly, just as Karl was still catching his breath and grinning with pride, a voice interrupted the moment.
To be continued... 🪄