Hello Theorists, welcome to Fae Theory!

Let’s talk, Doorways!

Nope, not the kind that leads into your mum’s basement or your neighbor's backyard. We’re talking Doorways with a capital D.

Buckle up, 'cause even the experts are scratching their heads trying to explain what the hell they are, me included.

Why the confusion? Well, the answer is simple; it's the sheer randomness in the nature of Doorways.

The first recorded discovery of one, was in Freedom City. It was the early 3000s, and Rick Alberts had just moved into his new United Apartment. He was just looking around the place, when he entered his room, fully sealed, the only window leading down to a drop of several hundred floors.

All his friends saw after that was the door open back again, but this time, without Rick.

Investigators and United Rangers searched high and low but didn’t find a single trace of the man. Until, someone closed the door, and opened it again, while on the inside.

This happens to be the entry conditions for the infamous Doorway to Hell, a supposedly endless domain of fire and molten lava. Thankfully for us, it ain’t Tartarus, and Vulcan Industries have already tamed this ‘hell’ making it the core of their manufacturing plants.

And that’s how this phenomenon of what is effectively a sort of portal, began to be referred to as Doorways. But it really is just that, a door, a transition from one to another, if you think about it.

Now that sounds like an explanation of the supposedly unexplainable, doesn’t it?

Well, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Take the Grating Doorway for example.

A simple arch in a long-abandoned Steel Corp. And yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like. Step through it, and it will literally grate you, coming out of the other side as a mass of thinly shaved flesh. This horror of a doorway is currently the property of CornuCorp, and they're using it for much better purposes than the manner of its discovery, as an industrial food grater.

Another is the Doorway of Vipers, fall or jump into this seemingly empty hole in the earth, and quite on the nose, you’ll find yourself inside a pit of fae beast vipers. Very few that fall inside manage to climb out of it. Sound terrifying? Don't worry, last we've heard, it was under the ownership of the Ragnarok Military Group used as a trial of fire for new recruits into the notorious Einhar.

Then, there are the more subtle Doorways, with considerably less gory results. One Andrea Sanchez actually had a doorway in her wardrobe.

Sadly, it didn’t lead to a magical world, and the effect was mostly unnoticeable, at least until Ms. Sanchez’s Faesycian reported sporadic rises and falls in her Attributes.

A barely noticeable effect, but FaeTech cared enough to experiment, finally confirming that all clothes placed within her closet gained permanent attribute enchantments. The Corporation immediately bought her out, paying enough that Ms. Sanchez would be set for several lifetimes.

Just like it was for Andrea, all Doorways carry innumerous means to wealth. Even beyond selling them directly, some come laden with rare minerals, artifacts of unknown technology, rare creatures, and even… fae.

To be honest, we don’t really know if the fae are the architects behind Doorways and the Domains within them, but what we do know is that, some of them have no fae at all, while others are entirely infested.

This overall ambiguity in the nature of Doorways has led to their phenomenon being used as a sort of catch-all explanation for almost everything.

Some say that the Bermuda Triangle is a large-scale Doorway, but… enough people leave the region safely, for this claim to be doubtful.

Another theory is that Tartarus, the endless pit into the Earth and the battlefield for the war between Fae and Humanity, is a Doorway itself. Well, we can't say, but one thing’s for sure, none who went in ever came out…

With the advent of the Fae, there have been many phenomenon that have been impossible to scientifically comprehend, but Doorways stand out even among them.

Scientists think they are pocket portals, carrying miniature worlds of varying size and form or an entirely different dimension with different rules of reality.

Yet, most Physicists have gone crazy trying to fit the existence of Doorways into known science, and while they still continue to try, is it even possible?

There are esoteric theorists who believe that doorways are conceptual, based on thought. And that since it's very often based on the concept of transfer to a different place, it doesn’t even have to be tangible, merely perceived, and enterable once the conditions for entry are satisfied.

Sound confusing? Yes, but it is still a terrifying thought, for there would be no way to know if and when you cross the threshold of one of these intangible doorways. Until you get to find out for yourself, you won’t know if you’ll get your clothes enchanted, or thrown out of the other side as grated flesh.

And that's just the Roulette you turn with Doorways. Either you get all the luck or none at all.

Riches or a painful death? You'll have to find it out yourself.

But hey, at the end of the day, these are all just theories, Fae Theories. Thanks for watching!

–Video titled “Doorways and (Almost) Everything We Know About Them” uploaded by The Fae Theorists.

***

A familiar world of dichromatic oceans, where scarlet sea overwhelms white by a margin, divided and balanced by the boundary between.

A sudden rupture disturbs this order, and the firmament is rent asunder once more.

From the western horizon came a crackling meteor, an agonized scream echoing through the realm. It streaks lightning azure, plunging into crimson seas.

Once before meteors had rained, blood and spirit gifted with equal blessing.

This day, the heavens were unfair, for only the western expanse was blessed. Lopsided, biased, and upsetting the balance.

The crimson expanse surged, waves towering to new heights, rhythmic yet erratic waves clashing with fervor, the sanguine red seeking to uproot the wispy white.

The border between sizzled and smoked, a crack in the fabric of the world, pushed back.

The luminous sea of the east retreated, flickering like dying flame, struggling but failing, trapped in shrinking space.

With every conquest of the crimson sea, with every defeat of the ivory sea, the more precarious the world.

Endless victories later, the sanguine west had conquered, three quarters of the world their dominion.

The luminous east broiled, boiling, opposing, and burst in radiance, the final act of a dying being, a vague apparition rising from amidst its waves. Head tilted towards the skies, an enraged howl echoed through the realm.

Heralded by its call, a maddening pressure bore down upon all beneath the heavens, far greater than ever before.

The line of boundary wavered, agitated, and… finally shattered.

Where the boundary between had once been, now was a writhing substance, a mass of dread, pitch black and tarry ichor.

The abyss itself had sprung forth, corruption, a symbol of an eternal war made incarnate, a poison to the world.

When the bubble had appeared once before, it descended back, but this did not.

The heavens may have been unfair, but this corruption was not, consuming more of the scarlet and less of the white, in a mangled sense of equality.

The Water it touched would solidify, forming ichorous tar, the corruption spreading like a plague. An infestation, until little of the two oceans were left.

All seemed lost, until the dichromatic seas waged a final war for survival. A last stand, joining hands in a never-before-seen collaboration.

The blood sea called forth a shadow, manifested from darkness, the spirit sea followed with its apparition taking the form of a lupine creature.

The shadow screeched, the wolf howled, and descended upon the abyssal plague.

One in intention, united against a common enemy, two sides of the same coin. Bearing down upon the corruption, they ripped, tore and destroyed, in fervor born of desperation.

The wolf from its smaller sea, fought the most ferocious, a cornered beast, nothing left to lose.

The shadow was more restrained, careful and calculating, yet a beast all the same.

The two beasts let lose all hell, maddened and enraged, until finally…

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The corruption lost its momentum, forced to halt its spread, but it was merely dormant, frozen, waiting, biding its time.

The shadow dissipated, dissolving into deep and wide scarlet waters, but the wolf remained, over its limited domain, forever defending what little it had, or… die trying.

The boundary between, once a peaceful divisor of the seas, was now a scar, corruptive darkness marring the balanced beauty of white and red.

Even the skies seemed sickly and broken, smatterings of unreality, cracks littered throughout existence.

The world once settled into a new yet precarious balance. Of the war, the cost was a ruined world, a massive stretch of abyssal ichor.

What remained of a once conflicted yet beautiful world, was one barely held together, of faded colors and latent corruption, neither side the victor.

***

Miles awoke feeling considerably refreshed. Despite the wet, sharp rigidity of whatever bed was beneath him, he felt rejuvenated in stark contrast to how he had been.

Moisture seeped into his clothes, sharp edges poked into his back, but he did not mind the absence of his nano-formed silk bedding, for he was embraced by a comforting warmth, fostering a connection that resonated deep within, a purpose, a feeling that he… belonged?

His eyes blinked open, met by the intense gaze of familiar yet unsettling eyes–deep, piercing orbs of yellow. But instead of the Fae he remembered, these eyes were followed by a snout, and dark ebony fur, it was a bizarrely large dog, no, it was a wolf.

Miles recoiled instinctively, his undead heart pounding as if alive, attempting to put space between him and the creature, but he collided with something behind him.

Solid as a mountain, yet as warm as a thick rug close to a fireplace.

He turned with trepidation.

It was another gigantic wolf, white fur as pristine as freshly fallen snow, eyes mirroring the intensity of its counterpart.

Miles’ breath caught in his throat as he hurriedly pounced to his feet, muscles tensing in anticipation of danger.

Despite his expectations of a confrontation, the wolves remained eerily still, their breath forming ethereal wisps in the air.

Now that he had stood, for a moment Miles forgot the wolves entirely. He was distracted, senses overwhelmed by the surreal sights around him, by where he found himself.

‘What in the Divine Sidhe is this?’

This was a colossal cavern, the towering ceiling stretching to such endless heights that he could not make out its end. The earthen rock of the cavern suggested this was somewhere in the depths of the earth, where no light should have been present. Yet soft moonlight filtered through an unseen crevice far above, cast an otherworldly luminescence upon the moss-strewn floor below.

Despite the unseen ceiling, crystalline stalactites dangled down like nature’s chandeliers. They refracted fragmented beams of light dancing across the rugged walls adorned with veins of mystical ore, which in turn reflected them back where it had come from. It was an endless, back and forth of rays of moonlight.

This unnatural illumination was not sufficient for the entirety of the cavern, for the distant depths remained shrouded in shadows and darkness, swallowing his vision the further he looked.

Miles was supposed to have night vision, but at the prospect of sounding confusing, the darkness here was not… the darkness he knew. Shadows lurked in its depths, beyond the reach of all light, even his enhanced senses failing to peer through to see the secrets they hid.

Once again, reminded that he was not actually alone, Miles snapped his gaze to the two wolves, only to find them entirely unmoved. Their silent presence lent an eerie calm to the otherwise foreboding atmosphere.

Although it seemed counter-intuitive, he felt no immediate sense of danger, neither from the wolves nor the shadows. Even the wind carried no warning, merely moving in silence.

Taking a deep breath to steady his mind, Miles was met with a heavy, ancient scent that hung in the air, filling his lungs with a blend of fresh earth, life, and home. That was when a subtle unease pricked his mind, a nagging sensation that he was treading in unknown territory, far beyond the confines of his understanding.

The cavern was still, interrupted only by the occasional drip of invisible water echoing in the distance, yet Miles’ ears perked up, detecting something more.

Beyond the two stationary wolves, and their breathing, he discerned the faint sound of clawed footsteps against rock, accompanied by heavy, erratic breathing of countless unseen creatures lurking in the shadows.

It was at least a dozen, no, a hundred, no, a thousand, no–

A chill ran down his spine as he realized the vastness of the unseen presence surrounding him, outnumbering him innumerable times over.

With nowhere to hide and no means of escape, Miles forced his breathing to slow, meditative focus channeling his fear into a steely resolve.

‘How did I even get here?’

He began to wonder, his thoughts racing to piece together the fragments of his memory. The last thing he remembered was being in the clinic, with old Zhan, the Faesycian and her lackeys, and–the sight of familiar yellow eyes.

Like a bolt of lightning, realization struck him, a sudden sense of knowing and understanding taking the place of his confusion.

Miles found himself glancing from one wolf to the other, “Y-You’re that strange fae?! What--What exactly are you?”

The black-furred wolf, previously motionless, stirred, cocking its head as if pondering his words. Then its solid form began to flicker, fading and reforming like an unsteady holo-projection, and from somewhere within…

Miles blinked.

He saw it, a glimpse of the familiar fae, not of any pixie or fairy kind known to man he was confident. The graceful, lithe figure, with wings of diamond crystal upon its back, and its eyes a deep yellow.

Miles blinked.

There was no fae, there never had been, only a wolf, staring with identical eyes.

Even as he tried to make sense of it, his question was given a response by a deep ephemeral voice, “Finally you notice. We are known by many names and take on many forms. Some call us Soma, but for you the Last True Son of Lykaon, I am the guardian of this realm, and you may refer to me as Pack.”

It took Miles a moment to realize, as well as confirm, that it was none other than the dark furred wolf that had spoken.

There were many fae mutated beasts in the world, but none that could speak, not like this. But instead of inquiring further about the nature of this being, Miles found himself accepting the oddity of its existence, as well as its answer.

He may have been caught off guard by the talking wolf, but something about those words rang purely true. Instinctively he knew there were no falsehoods here, only sincerity, and that eased his apprehension.

Feeling a strange sense of kinship with the wolf, perhaps due to the lupine motif of his own family, Miles posed a few questions, “Why am I here Pack? How… am I here?”

A markedly different voice answered this time, its source directly behind him, causing Miles to turn around in abrupt surprise. It was the second wolf, adorned in white fur. “You were summoned here, for your existence was in danger, so that we may aid you in your time of need.” its voice echoed through the cavern, “As for the how, my benefactor in the material realm, the physician of Fae-humanity, called for my aid at the cost of my debt. She is the one that allowed our influence to reach across the veil.

“Then came you, unbalanced, with your Lupine Soul forcefully awoken, serving as the anchor for our intent. Circumstances aligned in destined perfection, and the veil between us could not halt my right to call upon you.”

Miles struggled to comprehend the seemingly nonsensical explanations, but latched onto one thing. There was that word again, Veil. He had come across the term a few times, but…

“Wait, did you say material plane? Wait, wait, wait. D-Do you mean I came here through a Doorway?!”

The white wolf flicked its ears, answering with only a moment’s pause, “My benefactor beyond the veil took great care to conceal the entrance to our Den from prying eyes, from those who seek what you call Doorways. So, yes–”

The black wolf joined, both creatures now speaking in unison, “Allow us to welcome you proper, Last True Son of the Lord of the Hunt. Welcome to our Den, or, what remains of it.”

***

Zhan Shen seethed with suppressed fury, barely holding the boiling rage within him.

He had sensed it, the fulfillment of the conditions for entry, how the being behind the veil had manipulated the situation, snatching everyone but him, through the Doorway.

Though not physically faster than him, it had outmaneuvered him conceptually, and he could not interfere with what was in line with the rules of the veil.

Zhan Shen could only curse his oversight, for he had known something was strange about this clinic, he had just never considered it would be something as phenomenal as a Doorway and a Deva residing within.

The elderly butler surveyed the clinic, his gaze drawn to the remnants of the will-o-wisp advertisements plastered on the walls. It was clear now that their presence here, the blinding luminescence and constant leakage of energy, was not something that had been done thoughtlessly. It served a purpose–to distract and conceal the presence of the Doorway, camouflaging it amidst the will-o-wisps.

His eyes narrowed further upon the sight of barely discernible engravings on the wooden floor. Now that he knew what to expect, he could note the miniscule engraving of enchantment sigils, designed to further seal and hide.

There were some still intact, and thus, with methodical precision, the old butler demolished the wooden planks underfoot, reducing the flooring to splinters, exposing the concrete foundation beneath.

Having finished dealing with the interference, Zhan Shen centered himself in the now empty clinic. The agitated aura about him dissipated, his composure regained, leaving only the facade of an ordinary butler.

A focused exhale, and the very world seemed to still, the wisp lights dimming, the faint sounds of the city hushed. Zhan Shen was still, but his mind searched far and wide, near and close.

Time seemed to stretch as he searched for an unwitting opening, examining in meticulous detail, his senses attuned to the slightest irregularity.

That which is material is forbidden from the immaterial, and vice versa. This was a cardinal rule of the Veil.

To supersede such rules, conditions unique to each conceptual doorway had to be fulfilled. These conditions were often very specific, and barring the most unique of circumstances, left most Doorways utterly inaccessible.

Yet, when it came to individuals of his level and nature, the veil had to be a bit more lenient.

For no matter how much it covered the truth, it was still just a veil, nothing more than flimsy glass.

Zhan Shen grabbed onto the faint thread, barely sensed, but it was one that had pierced through the veil, leading all the way to the other side of the Doorway hidden in plain sight.

With a metaphorical grip upon the thread, he pulled, instantly unraveling the true nature of the Doorway.

The revelation of its true nature took him by surprise, filling his mind. What a coincidence that was, for that to be the nature of the Doorway here. It was relieving in a way, but, regardless, he focused upon the task before him.

While most of the conditions of entry seemed impossible for him, there were some he could manage.

Zhan Shen took a single step backwards, one entry condition satisfied, feeling the veil weaken immediately.

As for the rest, a much more direct approach would be required.

The elderly butler focused, the skin around his eyes darkening in eerie black. His figure seemed to elongate, shifting like a shadow, and with impeccable power, his rugged palm rushed downward.

The strike halted just before the concrete foundation, mere inches before it, doing little but causing a gust of wind.

That was fine, for it had not been an attack in the first place. It was more… causing the veil to resist, struggle, pushed far enough to retaliate with a surge of aggression.

Perfect.

The force struck his palm, only to be instantly re-directed, sending the attack back where it had come from.

The veil faltered, hit by itself, and the very air over the floor seemed to crack, splintering. It was as if reality was glass, being shattered through.

But this wasn’t enough, not yet.

Zhan Shen was honestly a bit rusty, for it had been a while since he had had to force his way inside a Doorway. Nevertheless, he prepared himself for the second strike, confident that while he may be out of practice, the Veil would not keep him out for long.