NEW SERIES - Arise - Chapter 1: The Tower Calls

'Your path lies within…enter the tower…climb and rise above.'

Regis struggled in his sleep, unable to get the voices out of his dreams. The voices spoke in young, elderly, hateful, loving, girl, boy, woman, man, sad, and happy as if thousands of people called out to him. Clutching his heart, Regis writhed around his bed. If these voices kept to their routine, it would be over soon.

'Regis. Regis. Regis. You must go. The way is open. The tower awaits.'

Scenes and views of all kinds of places raced across the infinite stretches of his dreams. Despite the many times he had this dream, he could never quite see each place clearly since they passed by so fast. Then, Regis waited. It was almost over. The final scene came and stopped in front of him, a large circular gate with shining runes along its round edge.

This scene always played out the same and was the only one to linger at the end of the dream. The gate clicked with a loud snap, metals creaking and runes spinning, and the doors parted in a reverse spiral. Light spilled out. Regis tried his best to see past it, but this was where it always ended.

Enveloped by the light, Regis's mind reeled, sharp pain searing his eyes. Regis woke up and gasped loudly, breathing unevenly as his heart drummed faster than the pouring rain outside. The dream was over.

"Again….what is that dream?" Regis remained upright in his bed for tens of minutes. He wasn't exactly sure why, but the dreams were getting more frequent and more painful at the end of the light. Grandpa always said it was simply because of the stress of missing his ascension.

'Was that the case?' Regis got off his creaking bed and retrieved a bowl of fresh rainwater, which he had placed outside the window yesterday night. Thunder roared and quaked the skies, and Regis nearly jumped off his bed and dropped the bowl, spilling water all over his worn-down floor. The bowl crashed on the floor, each sound reverberating through the house.

Before Regis could clean up, a loud noise came from outside his door. Hurried and light footsteps came close, and his door swung open with a bang. An elderly man hunched while clutching the door frame, moving the lantern in his free hand to see inside.

"Regis? Are you alright? Was it another dream?" The old man forced out his words through his labored breathing. He hurried inside, looking relieved at the dropped bowl and pool of water.

"Sorry, Grandpa Folk. I wanted to wash my face and got scared by the thunder." Regis said, fiddling with his hands, not wanting to meet his grandpa's eyes. Grandpa needed as much sleep as possible in his old age, and he only caused trouble.

"Regis. My dear grandson. It's alright. Your head must be burning again, right? Come on, let me take you to the other basin." Grandpa Folk took Regis by the hand and guided him through the dark room with the soft, warm light of the lantern.

After washing his face, Regis slumped down the wall before sitting. His heart started to calm down, the beats playing slowly, contrary to the rain hitting the roof. He was relaxed now. The burning pain had lifted from his head.

"That's the third time this week. It was never this bad before. Curse that quack doctor for saying it'll go away soon." Grandpa Folk said, his wrinkles deepening from his scowl. "Is it the same as always? Something about the tower?"

"Yes. They keep saying I need to go. That I need to climb. Grandpa, did I truly miss the ascension?" Many times, he wondered about the true nature of these dreams. The time of his ascension was around two years ago, and a rock falling on his head knocked him before he could go through the door. He had missed his one-time chance already.

"I'm sure. I saw the Tower open the door for you, but the rock prevented you from moving through it. No one can force you through the door, only you. Once you miss that chance, you can never have it again." Grandpa Folk made a quick fire on the stove and heated some stew. "So these dreams and voices about going to the Tower is a load of hogwash. You can live a fine life on the 0th Floor without problems."

Regis accepted the bowl of hot soup and took slow sips, tilting the bowl each time. He felt better already from the warmth that built inside. Grandpa Folk wasn't wrong. The 0th Floor was still a good place to live.

"Regis, how old are you now? Fourteen? Fifteen?" Grandpa Folk placed a blanket over Regis's shoulders to help him warm up.

"I'm thirteen, Grandpa!" Regis pouted. "You always get it wrong. Are you doing it on purpose? You always get it wrong." The blanket and hot bowl of soup prevented him from causing a further ruckus, so he sipped his stew with a complaint. Grandpa Folk got his age wrong every year, always off by one year, more or less. He suspected Grandpa was teasing him nonstop.

"Haha! Is that so? You're already thirteen. It's been that long. I remember when you were just this big." Grandpa Folk raised his hand to a certain height, a small height around the average size of a baby. He coughed and wheezed, wiping his nose with a rag. "Eat your stew and get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow."

"Busy? How many customers do we have?" Regis asked. He never saw Grandpa have more than one customer each week. Was tomorrow a special day, or was Granpa making another joke? He said nothing and returned to his bed, lying down on the crumpled sheets.

When he closed his eyes, he focused on the scene of the circular gate opening with bright light. It was unlike any gate he had seen before. Even the door to the Tower looked like an average door with a knob. Regis wasn't sure what these dreams meant and what this gate was, but he wanted to find out.

He didn't believe the doctor's claim that it would be gone and was just a dream. The voices sounded too real. Something deep inside him knew for certain it was real. But who were they? And what is this gate? Regis couldn't fall asleep. Grandpa always advised him to take his mind off it, but he could never do so when the dreams kept coming.

The next morning, Regis got off his bed and ran outside the house to breathe the morning air. It never failed to smell nice and lift his spirits. However, his peaceful morning ended with the sounds of people jeering.

"Ah, look. It's the dummy! He slept when Tower opened its door." A crowd of other children around his age pointed and laughed at him. Frowning from their jeers, Regis retreated into his home. His grandpa also woke up and set up his tools along the small table, fiddling with some gears.

Regis watched his grandpa, who was a clockmaker. He rarely had customers but made enough for them to live enough. His favorite time was always to watch his grandpa work. His grandpa moved swiftly and focused on the intricate mechanisms, placing them in the tiniest of gears until they clicked together, stoking admiration in Regis.

Unbelievably, The day was as busy as Grandpa Folk said. There were three whole customers in the shop with requests. Regis wondered if today was a special day.

"Regis, get some more small pins from the cellar." Grandpa Folk was tweaking and cleaning the inner workings of a clock.

"Ok!" Regis got off his chair and went downstairs. He hummed and closed his eyes down the steps. Out of nowhere, he hit something hard and fell, hitting his back on the stairs. "What the?" Regis cracked his eyes open and soon widened them to the fullest. A plain door was right in front of him. He remembered this door. It was the same one from last year.

"Grandpa!" Regis yelled. The sound of something being thrown on the floor reached the cellar.

"What happened?" Grandpa Folk rushed down the stairs and stopped abruptly. The two stared blankly at the door that appeared out of nowhere.

"Grandpa…." Regis didn't know what to say. The Tower never opened its doors twice to anyone. Some lived their lives, never seeing the Tower open for them, while others had that once-in-a-lifetime chance. "Doesn't it open once for a person? Is this for you?"

"No. It's not me." Grandpa Folk reached for the doorknob, twisted, and pulled. The door remained shut. His grandpa wasn't the one it chose. Grandpa Folk had his eyes widened in surprise and gazed at Regis. "My grandson. The Tower chose you a second time."

"Isn't that impossible?" Regis raised his voice. He glanced around the workshop, thinking there might be someone else inside. After all, he already lost his chance. Then Grandpa Folk took Regis's hand and placed it on the doorknob.

"You can do it." Grandpa Folk patted his shoulder.

Regis squeezed the doorknob and slowly turned it. A loud click caught his attention, and Regis was so overwhelmed he forgot to pull. Another pat on his shoulder knocked him back to his senses. Nodding to his smiling Grandpa, Regis pulled, and the door opened, a white void as far as the eye could be seen within.

"Regis. Look at me." Grandpa Folk turned Regis to him. Tears streaming from his eyes. "Those dreams were all real. There is something special about you. The Tower wants you to come, so it broke its rule and opened again."

"Grandpa…." Seeing his frail, old grandpa cry also made him cry. Regis choked and stammered on his tears. His grandpa rubbed his eyes and wiped his tears.

"Ever since I lost my son and daughter-in-law, ever since your father and mother passed away, I did my best to take care of you. You are the greatest thing in my life. Regis, you are my grandson." Grandpa Folk hugged him. "Now go through that door and see why the Tower wants you and wants us to separate. I don't think your headaches and dreams will improve until you enter this door."

"But, no one comes back from the Tower. Everyone who goes in can never return to the 0th Floor. What about the shop? What about you?" Regis hugged his grandpa tightly, feeling the weak old bones and the skinny body underneath the clothes.

"It's good enough for me. I cannot allow you to be held back by me. Thanks to you, I enjoyed these last few years of my life. Regis. Take this. I made it so you could have it when you became an adult. It seems I have to give it to you now." Grandpa Folk knocked his head on Regis' and put a small silver pocketwatch in his hands. "Once inside, promise me you'll take care of yourself and maybe make some friends and a family perhaps."

"Ok….I promise. I'll live well in the Tower!" Regis separated from his grandpa and approached the open door, clutching the silver watch. He stopped before the boundary between and glanced back at his grandpa, who nodded with his wrinkled smile. The tears never stopped flowing down Regis's face as he sniffed and walked through the door.

The door slammed shut and vanished. Grandpa Folk laughed and cried. He ripped a board from the floor and took out a bottle of wine from a secret compartment. He popped the cork and raised the bottle to the sky. "My Regis. You should be above the sky here now. Good luck." He poured the wine down his throat and sang a song.

…….

Regis heard the door slam behind him and turned to see it was gone. He cried and pulled his hair, understanding it was impossible to return. He decided to step through with his Grandpa's urgings. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

'Finally. You have arrived.' The voices returned.

Regis quickly wiped his tears, scanning the white void. The voices only spoke in his dreams, but now they've come out. He took this chance to ask, "Who are you?!" His words echoed infinitely in the empty space. "What do you want from me?!"

'Climb. Climb. Climb.'

'The Cycle spins. The Cycle spins.'

'Will he end it? Will he end it? Will he end it?'

The voices raised their volumes and sounded more chaotic. Regis's ears rang, and he squirmed on the floor from how much their voices cut into his mind and heart. So much pain and sadness filled him. Regis screamed from the pain of countless lives, countless agonizing voices.

They finally ended. The white void faded away, and Regis noticed he was lying on a flowery field. Vibrant petals fluttered through the winds, and the smell of honey calmed him down. A voice came from above, not losing volume anywhere in the blue sky. It cried out with excitement.

"Welcome all newcomers. Welcome to the 1st Floor."