Kastori Devastations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 2)

by Stephen Allan

  He shushed her as he put his hand on her shoulder, closing the gap.

  “Yes, there are many things we could have done. You can’t judge yourself a failure for not being able to rescue Typhos, though. And Cyrus and Celeste don’t hate you.”

  “They will someday when they realize what I’ve done.”

  “They know. And they’ve moved on from it.”

  Erda didn’t quite believe what was said but accepted it for the sake of her former lover.

  “I just hope I get the chance to actually do something to absolve myself,” Erda said, looking away.

  The emperor said nothing, removing his hand but keeping the gap closed between the two of them.

  With Typhos ahead, you have no greater chance than this.

  66

  Celeste spent the rest of the day resting, making up for the lack of sleep from the night before. To her surprise, she fell asleep more easily with more noise. The sound provided a distraction from her mind, which could not escape the clutches of Typhos’ mind games. The silence allowed the whispering, dark voices to fill her head.

  She was so tired and exhausted her mind didn’t dream. She was back in a void, but this time, it was a void of her own creation, one which gave her life instead of draining it.

  She abruptly awoke from her third nap of the day to see Erda silently standing near her, looking at the same sun.

  “We need to test you before we decide to go,” she said. “I need to see where your spirit is.”

  Celeste bit her lip, suspecting she was not yet strong enough to go.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Erda turned to the stairs behind them, stairs which Crystil, Cyrus, and her Dad sat on, laughing and exchanging jokes.

  “The mountain will test you by reading your mind for your greatest fear. For Crystil, it was Dyson. For Cyrus, it was you joining forces with Typhos.”

  I’m not ready for that. I’m still tired and weak.

  People will die if you do not go. Innocent people.

  “Tell me what I need to do.”

  “Take a weapon from Cyrus or Crystil. Go to the base of the steps. The mountain will tell you which cave to approach. From there, you must fight whatever you encounter.”

  Erda turned back toward the planet and lost herself in thought. Celeste slowly walked toward the other three as Cyrus told a joke. I feel fine physically. I’m sharp mentally. Pass this… I’m not…

  Yes, yes you are Celeste. Just fight, don’t think, then rush to Monda and save everyone.

  She reached the others, and they all stood silently. They grimaced in response to Celeste’s taut expression. Crystil removed the sheath and sword from her belt, handing them to Celeste. Celeste took the sword with a queasy stomach. She locked eyes with Crystil, whose single nod communicated everything Celeste needed to know. It’s my sword now. She looked down at it, admiring the red stone in its hilt. She pulled it out slightly, admiring the perfectly reflective steel blade, without a scratch despite having fought Typhos the night before.

  She walked to the bottom of the first flight of stairs and felt called to her right. She slowly descended, both feet planting on a step before going further.

  The lower she got, the louder the voices in her head became—and not the voices she imagined Typhos might say, but things she had actually heard him say.

  “Your brother and friends on Anatolus are dead. You have no one left but me. Do you really want to die alone?”

  “You worthless scum!”

  “Dream about the glory I can offer you.”

  As she got closer to the final platform, the words from Typhos blurred together until they sounded like a demonic, terrifying laugh. Celeste begged for anything else to distract her—a gust of wind, a pebble falling down the side of the mountain, an aviant screeching—but her ears could only “hear” one single sound, the voice of Typhos.

  She came to the entrance of the cave and distinctly felt his presence inside. Not possible. Right?

  Go forward. Whether he’s real or not…

  This is the test. Not to see what’s real or not. But to fight through regardless.

  She took a deep breath and hustled in before she could change her mind. She turned back to see the entrance had closed.

  She produced an electric spell to illuminate the room. But it did no good—the darkness remained.

  “Ha, ha, ha,” a slow laugh sounding like a warped Typhos came. Far ahead—perhaps hundreds of feet away—an outline of a tall figure appeared. It’s him. You have to fight. She walked forward slowly, her mind racing. What if this is an illusion within an illusion? What if this somehow loops back to me being imprisoned and tortured?

  Doesn’t matter. Keep going. Have the stoicism of Crystil.

  But—

  Remember what she said. You’re already dead. Fight like it’s the truth.

  She sprinted ahead and stopped when, sure enough, Typhos whirled around. But his mask had vanished, and in the place where his face should have been, empty space greeted her. He had grown, perhaps to ten feet tall. Behind him, the body of Erda collapsed to the ground, stab wounds all over her.

  “No!”

  Illusion, Celeste, stay in control.

  “This is no illusion, girl. The only illusion has been your mind since that door from your cell opened.”

  What… No. Is it? How can I know?

  “You have no way of knowing what’s real and what’s fantasy, child. I have destroyed your mind. The only way out is to join me.”

  “No,” Celeste said, but her voice was weak, and she could not find an escape. “No, can’t be. No, no, no.”

  “Yes,” the massive Typhos said, lowering his sword and extending his hand. “If you attack, you wake up in the void, trapped forever. If you join me, you wake up in my throne room, ready to conquer Nubia and the other worlds so that we may destroy the traitors you call family.”

  Just fight. That’s what Erda said. Fight whatever you encounter.

  She raised her sword, and to her surprise, Typhos did not move to defend himself. Instead, when she had her sword at its apex, he laughed.

  “Remember what I just told you, Celeste. Do you really want to wake up back in that void? You’ve already lost your mind. Do you want to make sure you never recover it?”

  She hesitated. She tried thinking of the logic of her situation when Typhos lunged at her. She dodged his sword by the narrowest of margins, the gust of the sword grinding on her face.

  “Surrender or die slowly,” he said.

  Do I?

  Do you want to live not fighting?

  Think of Cyrus and Crystil.

  The last thought propelled her, and she charged Typhos, who once again did not raise his sword, only saying, “Remember what your fate is.”

  But she ignored the warning and rammed her sword through his chest. A blinding light appeared, and Celeste placed her hands on her eyes. The light did not let up for several moments, and Celeste fell to the ground in pain. Stop! Get me back to the mountain!

  She found the power to focus and the force to reign in her magic. She ignored all outside sensations, focusing within on herself as she gathered strength.

  “Illusions, be gone!” she screamed.

  She opened her eyes and was on her knees outside the now-closed cave. In front of her, her sword stuck in the dirt. Celeste stood and grabbed her sword. She looked back and saw the sun had set, throwing the familiar sea of stars from Anatolus up to view. If it’s all truly fantasy, then I’m fighting through. I’ll die in that world before I question my existence any further.

  “Foolish girl!”

  She paused when she heard the voice of Typhos in her head, much more distinctly than before.

  “Did you think I was bluffing? Did you think I would lie? Sense the world through my eyes, child.”

  She hesitated but dropped to one knee and closed her eyes. Typhos locked her gaze on a massive pile of ashes at the front of her father’s temple.
/>   “Do you see the power I possess? Do you see the deaths I have brought about to Monda?”

  No…

  “Yes, child, yes. The same happens tomorrow at the same time if you or Erda do not surrender yourself to me.”

  Typhos threw her out of his vision. I went in too late. I’m ready, but we lost already.

  Biting her lip to handle the guilt, Celeste ascended.

  67

  “You saw,” Celeste said, her voice weak.

  “Yes,” Erda said. “I knew this would happen.”

  All eyes turned to her.

  “Celeste, we discussed this. You cannot go until you proved yourself. And you did by passing your test, your fear of the uncertainty of reality. But you hadn’t before, and unfortunately, Typhos murdered a hundred humans while you trained.”

  It’s my fault, then.

  “Was it quick?”

  “By massive fire,” Erda said. “Quicker than it usually is with Typhos.”

  The method of death provided only a fleeting moment of relief for Celeste.

  “But if I wasn’t training…”

  “No,” Crystil said. “No, there’s no ifs anymore. It’s done, you’re not going to bring them back. But we can make sure another hundred don’t die, and we have until sunset tomorrow?”

  Erda nodded, and Celeste saw the direction of the conversation. Planning for the confrontation.

  “So we get as much rest as we can,” Cyrus said. “Sleep in as late as we can. Eat meals that will nourish us and provide all the energy we need. Use Erda’s magic to make sure we are at full health.”

  “And we make sure no one else dies,” Celeste said emphatically, the image Typhos had given her still burning her conscience. “And we do that by planning. Cyrus, Erda and I can attack Typhos.”

  “And his army,” Erda added. “He will have brought back his troops. Many of his men will rally around him, most out of fear but all for the purpose of defeating us.”

  Celeste pondered what their chances were, an army of three against hundreds. We need more numbers.

  “I can gather troops,” Crystil said, her arms crossed with a confident smile on her face. “Emperor Orthran told me about the hidden weapons. I will go alone to gather people in advance—Erda, can you teleport me away from the temple without Typhos knowing?”

  Erda nodded, but without a great deal of confidence.

  “The only way such a move would work is if we place you several miles, if not hundreds, away. I fear much of your day will be spent running instead of preparing for battle.”

  “There’s not much to prepare for,” Crystil retorted. “I give the humans guns and we shoot the magicologists from a distance. We strike quickly and run to a new spot, and repeat. There are no tactical strategies to be gleaned other than that.”

  Ever the soldier, Crystil. And I’d be dead if not for it.

  “I don’t mind it at all anyways. It won’t be the first time I’ve traveled on foot to fight these guys.”

  Crystil’s voice left no doubt to her intentions, and everyone silently nodded.

  “And Dad,” Celeste said, turning to the last person in the group and the only one who would not join them. “You—”

  “I’m coming, too,” he said, cutting her off in as polite a tone as possible. “My people suffer on Monda. I am not going to abandon them.”

  “You already were held captive for two years, Pops. Take a little vacation,” Cyrus said.

  The emperor shook his head aggressively.

  “When I came to rescue you, Celeste, I talked to men who had no idea who I was. They all expressed hope that they might get a human back in charge of the planet, but also disappointment and feelings of resentment that some of us got to escape, and some of us had to suffer. We’re all human here, so we either all triumph or we all die.”

  No. He’s not dying. Stand firm, Celeste. He may be your father, but you’re the one who has the power on this mission.

  “Dad, I appreciate it. But no.”

  Much to her surprise, a faint smile formed. He wants me to stand up to him.

  “I thought I’d lost you once already. I’m not going to go through losing you once more in a battle where you would just be an aide to Crystil—and there are people better trained for that.”

  The emperor looked with pride at her, and she began to feel a well of emotions. Never thought I’d see him this way. Never thought I’d get to banter with him again. He approached her as her eyes moistened, and he held her tightly for a prolonged hug.

  “Don’t leave again, Dad,” she said as the tears fell freely from her eyes. She swore he cried too, as she felt something warm and wet fall on her forehead, but she had placed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, embracing the sensation of his hug.

  “OK,” he said, his voice firm as he still held her. “But if you guys don’t return within a day, I’m going to have to punish you.”

  “Deal,” Celeste said with a laugh and a few sniffles.

  With renewed vigor, she looked around and was surprised to see everyone staring at her. I just spoke up out of frustration. But they see me as the leader here. That’s… wow.

  “So we leave tomorrow evening?” Celeste said.

  “Say it like you mean it,” Crystil said with a wink.

  Celeste cleared her throat, locked eyes with everyone, and delivered her message.

  “We leave tomorrow just before sunset. No one else dies on our watch.”

  Cyrus roared in approval as Celeste felt a lot better about the course ahead of them.

  68

  One day isn’t enough. And I need the cover of night.

  Crystil loved seeing Celeste take charge, and she loved how everyone rallied around her. No qualms giving up my title to her. But I have to go soon. She approached the younger Orthran after the cheering had settled.

  “Never thought I’d see him again,” Celeste said. The emperor.

  “I didn’t either, which might be terrible to say as a bodyguard,” Crystil responded warmly. “But we all thought the same thing when we saw the blast. And now I need to make sure that there aren’t any more people we think we’ll never see again. Celeste, I need to leave tonight.”

  Celeste spun to her, positioning her body for an argument. But the young girl froze, contemplating her thoughts, and her body relaxed.

  “I’m not going to change your mind,” she said with a sigh through a smile. “Nor, really, should I, with you being the best soldier alive.”

  “This is why you’re in charge and not Cyrus; you’re flexible,” she said with a wink. “But this is for the best. Erda can cast a spell which will make me invisible to the senses of the magicologist, and I can use the night to shield me from their eyes. Plus, it’ll make it easier to take out the guards.”

  “OK,” Celeste said, but she seemed deep into thought, staring at the ground, her body still facing Crystil but her mind elsewhere.

  “What’s up?” she said.

  “Just… thanks, Crystil,” Celeste said. “You’re our commander, and you’ve guided us, rescued us and battled with us from the day we came out of hibernation. I’m sure you played one of the biggest roles in rescuing me.”

  If only, Crystil thought with an appreciative memory for what Cyrus had done.

  “You don’t have me to thank. Thank your brother. If you want to thank the person who most acted like a true soldier, one on a mission that would not be ignored or compromised on, he’s the one. He became something I had never seen before—a somewhat green new soldier turning overnight into a grizzled, resolute veteran. When you two go into battle with Typhos, you won’t need me. You both have the grit and determination to do what needs to be done.”

  “I just hope we agree on that,” Celeste said, but her acknowledging smile put Crystil at ease. “Go whenever you are ready.”

  “I am always ready,” Crystil said, and she went to Erda as Celeste followed closely behind. I am ready because I go and make myself ready. This is my rol
e in the battle, and this is how I can help. If it means no rest and no food…

  Nothing I haven’t handled before with the magicologists. And I didn’t even have a spell to hide myself.

  Erda, Cyrus, and the emperor all faced Crystil, and they all immediately acknowledged her plan. Crystil didn’t even feel the need to explain her accelerated decision—Celeste probably expressed as much behind her.

  “I need a sense-blocking spell,” Crystil said.

  Erda closed her eyes, and Crystil felt a warmth around her belying the gentle breeze of the peak.

  “That will be good for about one day,” Erda said as she opened her eyes. “But be careful, Crystil.”

  Crystil nodded and shared an embrace with Erda. Just in case. But I’ll see her again.

  She shifted right and came to the emperor, her boss and, in many ways, the father she never had. She squeezed him tight, not quite becoming emotional, but feeling the old sensations of pride and gratitude. The two of them exchanged a simple nod, having long developed silent communication.

  She shifted right once more and faced Cyrus in front of everyone.

  “Ever the soldier, huh?” Cyrus said with his ever-familiar cocksure smile.

  “Don’t you forget it,” she said.

  The two lingered for a few seconds. Is he going to hug me or… do something dumber here? Or just play it too cool for—

  He came forward to hug her, and the two shared a surprisingly tender hug. She rubbed his back gently, and he squeezed her as if refusing to let her go.

  “Just don’t win the battle by yourself, I want a piece of Typhos.”

  She winked at him without a word, and turned to Celeste and gave her a strong hug.

  “It’s your battle now, you can do it,” she whispered into her ear.

  She turned to Erda. Erda closed her eyes, and Crystil hers. She looked to the night sky of Anatolus and as far out as she could on the planet. If we defeated Calypsius here and made a new home out of this place… we can beat Typhos.

  She stole one last glance at her friends, leaving with a warm smile. She shut her eyes, felt the rush come up to her neck and head, and cold air embraced her. She opened her eyes and saw a massive tree in front of her, along with a few others sparsely populated in the area. A road curved up ahead of her, and she quickly climbed the tree both to avoid any patrolling magicologists and to see how far she had to go.