A SIMPLE SMILE rested on the lips of a boy with a milky white complexion, faint lines forming beneath his void-like eyes, walking happily forward. He wore a white tunic that reached the mid calf with long sleeves and a girdle, paired with dark sandals. His short wavy hair swayed with the wind as he approached a fortress guarded by two men and a registrar beside. Each of them held a separate torch, as dusk had already fallen and the sky was blanketed in darkness with only a crescent of the moon visible, while the registrar leaned over the desk, his expression had evidence of fatigue. Hunter drew a deep breath when he finally closed the distance between them.
The registrar, wearing glasses and a red tunic, stared at Hunter with a judgmental gaze, before he took out a scroll and quill to write on.
"Name?" the registrar asked in a cold tone.
"Hunter."
"Just Hunter?"
Hunter shook his head, the smile never leaving his slightly pale pink lips. "Hunter Morningstar."
The registrar cleared his throat before continuing to write and ask. "Birthday?"
"July 17, 1777."
"How many days have you slumbered before?"
"A thousand year and seven days."
The registrar seemed to cough. "That's too long."
"Pardon me?" Hunter smiled even more.
"Kid, why are you even happy? You're about to be tested and can die in your first trial."
"But still," Hunter paused, "I will finally leave this place."
'This cultic place filled with seventeen year old children like me!' he added.
"Alright then, have fun dying." The registrar rolled up the scroll and handed it to him, clearly unwilling.
Hunter accepted it with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Registrar!"
"What thank you?" His brows furrowed. "Anyway, you're participant number seven, your designated room is in the south, your assigned Attendant is Mr. Nottingham Abernathy. Make sure to go there on time after you attend the opening ceremony."
"I will take note of that." Hunter nodded cheerfully as he accepted the scroll, strange enough that even the registrar felt unsettled by him. "Thank you again, Mr. Registrar!"
"Alright, shoo!" He waved him off as if driving him away. "NEXT!"
The gate opened immediately and Hunter was let inside, holding the rolled scroll. Inside, many people were already present, and like him, they were of the same age. In truth, he was already used to it, because everyone there began life as ten years old.
That was right, ten years old!
After a few moments passed and the outdoor courtyard inside the fortress was almost filled, murmurs spread throughout the area, as everyone seemed both excited and nervous. Unlike Hunter, most of them had grown pale and trembled.
'Good for them!' It was just a thought born from being freed from this place, as if a thorn had truly been pulled from him. There were no more meals delivered to his small room and no more cramped cot. Whether he died or lived as the registrar had said, what mattered was that he would no longer exist here, where eating, bathing, and sleeping had been all he did for seven years.
When the speaker who would deliver the opening speech of the ceremony arrived, the crowd fell silent. He was an elderly man with graying hair and a beard, dressed in a golden tunic that shone brightly, with a golden headband on his head bearing carved gold feather motifs on both sides.
"AHEM!" He attempted to speak as everyone watched him. "Citizens of Gap-3121 City of the Slumberer's Realm . . . I supposed we have five hundred plus participants today. All right then, I am the Herald of Hope, Mr. Evanescent Vaughan. Seven years ago, you awakened in bodies formed of dust while you slept, as ten year old children without names or homes, given only a place to be raised and taught this world, like the former Slumberers of this city that may or may have not claimed their respective Tower."
'Boring.' Hunter kept smiling despite the stiffness settling into him. 'Everyone knows that already, Mister!'
It was true. That was what they had been taught for seven years.
Mr. Vaughan swept a serious gaze over the crowd. "The Cosmos you once knew is destroyed - yes, yes, that's right - and you already know this. This is your new beginning, as the Obelisk granted you life in unnamed bodies formed of dust, while others are still being shaped as they continue to dream. Those gathered here will now face their trials, that annually commences every last day of the year. Today marks the 43rd Foundation Day as well as the Festival of Slumberers to celebrate the trials of before and after. My sons and daughters, survive, and obtain your own Tower.
"Welcome to the Festival of Slumberers!"
'Please, finish it already, Mister.' Hunter nearly scratched the back of his head. 'I am already stiff!'
WHAT THE SPEAKER stated was simple. In this new world, all souls from the Cosmos were drawn into the Obelisk. No one understood how it happened. It was only known that when mere souls entered the Cosmos dependent Obelisk, it destabilized and restructured itself to accept them, creating a system to prevent the same destruction that befell the Cosmos. Among the Slumberers, one truth was remembered: powerful and ominous monsters from beyond had devoured the Cosmos across all points in time.
Then viola!
Everyone transmigrated as dust, forming the body of a ten year old child while Slumbering, the act of dreaming itself. After forming, a human-made flesh like Hunter was the result, and years later, he had his chance to obtain a Tower through the Festival of Slumberers. Such old story.
WHEN HUNTER arrived at his designated room, a man was already waiting for him. Unlike him, whose face had grown stiff from constant smiling, this man looked as though he had been perpetually scowling his entire life. Despite that, he still looked young, perhaps in his thirties, dressed in the same garments worn by the speaker of the ceremony before. After the scroll was handed over, the man examined the details written inside.
"Hunter Morningstar, seventeen years old, a thousandth year and seven days Slumberer, participant number seven." Mr. Abernathy nodded his head, his blonde hair and black mustache giving him a stern appearance. "I presumed the registrar already introduced me. I am the Attendant of Hope, but you can call me Mr. Abernathy, and I will be the one assisting you until after your first trial." He halted for a second. "Alright, kid, follow me."
They went to a secluded area deep within the fortress. In this place, a bridge connected to a small island with a radius of no more than five hundred meters, surrounded by a pond filled with various kinds of fish and corals. The little island across the bridge was encircled by almond trees.
When they reached the center of the island, a stone pulpit stood there, its top shaped like an open mouth. Mr. Abernathy gestured for Hunter to approach it. Hunter did not hesitate.
"Before we start, I would like to confirm a few things as part of the protocol." Mr. Abernathy frowned as he looked at Hunter. "Also, please remove that fake smile, it is weird, Mr. Morningstar."
Hunter merely scratched the nape of his neck and stopped smiling.
"You remember your Slumbering, yes?"
"Yes," he answered truthfully.
"Then you must know how important it is. In your dream, you were a subject of Phantasm, a structure of your dream for a thousand years. What did you dream of?"
Hunter gazed up as if thinking and recounted his dream from over the long years. He narrated to Mr. Abernathy that he dreamed of a tree bearing fruits made of dice, and that each fruit told him the same thing: 'Never open doors.' Among those dice, there was one voice that sounded different, whispering to him that he should sleep well. It was there that he discovered his name, though even he was uncertain of who he truly was.
"That is strange." Mr. Abernathy studied him with an intrigued reaction. "Most Phantasms are shaped by a person's past life, but rare cases like yours exist. Irony is, some can no longer know who they once were." He tapped Hunter's shoulder. "What you remember is what you must cling to when you enter your Sequence. Each Sequence becomes a trial, and your first will be the manifestation of your fear. Your survival and your chance to obtain a Tower depend on overcoming it.
"That Tower will be your new home. Everyone who passes a trial receives one to continue living. At seventeen, entering a trial is mandatory. Obtaining a Tower is the only way to live on, though death still follows the Sequences."
'Please, let us get this over with already!' Hunter thought, as he already knew all of this.
Mr. Abernathy then gestured at the mouth of the pulpit and placed the scroll inside. "Put your hands on the pulpit."
Hunter did as instructed.
"Before we recite the ritual, I will explain this scroll. It will become a part of your soul that you can summon to view what is called a status window. It will display certain abilities you possess as a challenger of a trial, and such abilities will be given to you upon your arrival. Look carefully for clues on how to conquer your fear."
Hunter affirmed his understanding with a slight head tilt.
"There are four Parents that you can call upon for support. These Parents are the ones who built the Towers, the Primordial Entities of the great Obelisk. Surely you know of them?"
"Yes, when I choose a Parent, that means I become an Adopted, and I will inherit abilities akin to the Parent I choose, which I can use as a challenger."
"Very good. Now, recite with me."
"I, state your name," Mr. Abernathy taught.
"I, Hunter Morningstar."
"Would like to accept my first Sequence and advance with the support of, state your preferred Parent."
Hunter formed a sly curve on his lips. "Would like to spurn the idea of being an Adopted."
Before he knew it, everything turned white.
And he clearly heard what Mr. Abernathy shouted.
"Foolish mortal!"