THE TOWER ━ stranger things

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prologue — the chosen

Viceroyalty of the Río de la Plata, soon to be Argentina, toward the end of the eighteenth century.

Santiago Bolivar sat at the edge of his bed, his breaths shallow as his nightmare still lingered in the back of his mind. He made sure not to stir any of his brothers as he gently pushed himself off the creaky mattress and onto the cold floor. His steps were light and calculated, the wood beneath him barely squeaking as he finally took a hold of the room's door handle. One of his brothers snored loudly into the atmosphere, masking the screech of the door.

Walking down the stairs is another strenuous task in itself, but Santiago pushes forward – his chapped lips and dry throat beg him to. He can also feel a hot flash move through his body as he descends toward the kitchen. Flashes of his fathers decaying body run behind his eyelids every time he blinks, cheers of independence ring in his ears, before finally reaching the bottom of the stairs. He shook the nightmare away, fastening his pace toward the kitchen door. His head felt light and there was a churning sensation in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't put into words. His frail eight year-old fingers gripped the knob and suddenly it was like his body fell through the door.

His clammy palms met the cool floor in distress as he crawled to pour himself a glass of water. He was huddled near a small table when his eldest brother Leo shuffled in tiredly. He looked up at his older brother in fear once he crouched down to meet his eyes.

Leo sat with him for a while, listening as his brother went on about his nightmare that felt all too real. It was their father leaving to fight for a war that he believed would help their country gain independence. In his dream Santiago said it does, however their father died in combat and he witnessed all of it; the agonizing days of failure and those full of adrenaline and hope. His father taking his last breaths, surrounded by men that had given their lives too for freedom. It was horrifying, Santiago recalled.

Instead of comforting him Leo, who clung to his mothers Catholicism with pride, urged his brother to attend a mass with him the next day. He dragged on about how his youngest brother was too enthralled with his mind to actually pay any attention to reality. He scolded the boy for acting like such a prophet. He believed wholeheartedly, his younger brother had to have been corrupted by Satan himself.

To most of his family, Santiago Bolivar was just a boy with aspirations that would never be in reach. He was the youngest out of five and far different from his older brothers – he hated war and didn't want to work his life away in misery and never enjoy the fruits of his youth. He wanted to live a peaceful and philanthropic life. Many believed because of his rebellion, he was cursed and plagued with such awful dreams. He was seen as a familial pariah – a stain in the Bolivar bloodline.

But not to Julieta Vasquez.

The two met when they were fourteen and became the best of friends. Julieta was the brightest and most beautiful girl in all of Buenos Aires, according to Santiago. She was different then most girls who hid away in their houses from the boy; she was free, effervescent, and kind. Naturally, he was afraid of how she'd react to the tales of the future that unfolded in his dreams. However, Julieta saw it as destiny – a prophecy placed upon his shoulders at birth. She believed he was chosen and for good reason.

Seven years later, after the death of his father, Santiago married Julieta – taking her last name. The day they married he held her hands and saw their future together, full of light and prosperity. It was the first time a vision of his didn't make him nauseous or scared. With her he felt safe. The two moved from Buenos Aires shortly after to a town that was desperately trying to pick itself back up from the war, Salta.

They had four beautiful children who, to their luck, were blessed with their fathers gift and their mothers kind eyes. Santiago taught them how to harness the legacy in their blood, jotting down different rituals to practice in order to keep it strong within them and their family, should their children be born with precognition. They learned how to channel visions for specific people and places, either by locking hands with the person or staring into their eyes to "glimpse into their soul." It was tedious, but worthwhile all at the same time.

In Salta the Vasquezes had made their mark – using their precognition to help the townspeople and those who passed through, disregarding the skeptics. They were doing what Santiago sought to do and with such humility. They broke news of exciting births, new travelers who were coming to help, and other opportunities ahead for people and it was so...alluring. These moments made up for all of the hard ones. The town of Salta grew wonderfully, while the Vasquezes sat by and watched the beauty of their abundant community.

Their gift flourished like this for quite some time, by the mid nineteenth century it was the strongest it had ever been. The Vasquez name was one that only a handpicked few in Argentina knew, but the tales that were told of a family that could see into the future and blessed many with their legacy was heard by all. Santiago's gift reached many of his grandkids and so forth.

But then something changed.

Their enchanting and miraculous gift had been tainted by outsiders who saw it as a work of evil. People stopped coming to the family for help – turning to something else to believe in. They didn't blame them, many held their own beliefs separate from their gift, but it was the hypocrisy and fear toward them that was most frustrating. Many left Argentina hoping to start anew somewhere their history didn't have such a strong hold – practicing their fading gift in secret while some never muttered a word of it again.

Sofia Vasquez was brought to America when she was sixteen, all by herself, and didn't speak a lick of English nor did she know the customs. It was hard for her and her family for a while; they were constantly ridiculed for being different. Nevertheless, with time, her family assimilated into American culture.

Although, they also pushed their ability away for a while due to fear of ridicule or even worse. They clung to what they could as they tried to conceal their practice, but left behind a lot. They knew some of their traditions would hurt them in the long run.

When she met her husband she vowed, if they had children, that she would never let the world do to them what it did to her. If her watered down gift were to pass down to them, she would teach them to cherish it with pride despite the trials they may face. Even though she prayed her children would be blessed with precognition, she'd be lying if she said a tiny part of her also wished they didn't inherit her legacy.

It happened anyway, skipping over her son and burrowing itself into the spirit of her daughter. People speculated that she just got lucky. They were convinced her gift would never be as powerful as it was during the time of Santiago Vasquez. Especially because it skipped many of her cousins as well. They were wrong.

Irene was chosen and not by accident.

AUTHORS NOTE!
well hello friends! bam, i did it. i wanted to make the prologue a VERY brief history on the vasquez gift just so that readers get a better understanding as to how it came to be — how it reached irene. i LOVE the chosen one trope because there is just something about it that is so mysterious and fascinating. also lets all give santiago a hug because he deserves one after the hell his family put him through for literally existing/ being different. also we love sofia for breaking generational chains, props to her!

the next chapter will literally follow the original prologue to a "t" — just with some extra spice because these are just bread crumbs and ya'll deserve the full course meal. but anyways! I hope you stick along again for this wild ride, I did change a few things just to make the story more cohesive and you will see that in the upcoming chapters — which won't change all that much. I will probably add in a few more chapters in between the ones that were previously published just to fill the story out a bit more because it just felt like it was far too fast paced in the beginning. like low-key think I went full on sonic mode...

but yeah! as always thank you for being here and reading, your support/love/feedback is always appreciated <3