Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3)

by Stephen Allan

  The images stopped. But the sights had told him too much. My mother. My brother.

  I hate both of you. Never come here. Never.

  Or else…

  He gasped as he slowly refocused on the sky up above. He wiped sweat from his brow as he tried to slow his breathing.

  “Well, well, our favorite prodigious son, Typhos,” Ramadus said, his voice carrying across the plain.

  I’m impressed you even know the word prodigious, Ramadus.

  “Waiting for me outside my home? This must be incredibly important.”

  Typhos detected subtle sarcasm in the man’s voice, but pretended to believe the chief was sincere—don’t need more reason to be angry.

  “How are you doing, bud?” Ramadus said, shaking the hand of the young boy and awkwardly embracing him. “You look just like your father. You’re a handsome young man.”

  “Thanks, Ramadus,” Typhos said, trying to keep his voice neutral as he grew annoyed with the silly diplomatic statements of the chief.

  “You’re going to be a great Kastori someday.”

  Odd choice of words there. Not councilor? Not chief?

  “That is the hope,” Typhos said, hating himself for becoming equally diplomatic in conversation.

  “Now, I understand by your presence you want to speak to me. What can I do for you, Typhos?”

  Typhos took a quick breath in, and reminded himself that the best way to have a chance at the position was not to politic for it directly, but to suggest making it open for anyone. Then, knowing there were no other Kastori besides Pagus who had any ambition of getting on the council—and Pagus had already said he enjoyed working for his father and would wait for Garron’s death to become a council member—Typhos would step in and claim the spot. That’s how I see it, at least. Have to hope Pagus still has the same view.

  “I just wanted to make a suggestion, sir,” Typhos said, a salutation that dug at him when he said it. Too bad “giant moron” isn’t courteous or chief-worthy. “The sixth council spot has been open for over a year now, and I think it would do the council good if you filled that spot. With five members, and only one black magic councilor, it feels like to some of us that the council isn’t properly represented. I am, of course, only making a suggestion, and it is your decision, but I know some people would have more faith in the council if it had that sixth member there.”

  “Hmm,” Ramadus said as if he had never before considered the question. Idiot. Even my father filled his empty vacancies eventually. “You bring up a very good point, Typhos. A very, very good point. You are a smart man.”

  It took everything in Typhos’ power not to groan loudly or mock Ramadus at that moment. I know he’s mocking me. And I can’t do anything about it.

  “To be honest, it has been nice seeing the council figure things out themselves. Since they cannot ever reach a tie, they always come to a conclusion themselves, and it makes for scintillating observation. I can watch from the sidelines and give input as needed, but they don’t need me. It’s great!”

  Well, at least if he’s lazy, he’s not making decisions directly.

  “Well, sir, may I?” Typhos said. “My parents would often speak about how holding that tiebreaking vote as chief of the council was an honor and something they held with tremendous respect.”

  And by often speak, I mean they never spoke. But I’m sure they have before. Just not with me. They never discussed anything with me.

  “They knew that six incredibly intelligent people had spoken before them and given their opinions and that their duty as chief required them to weigh the arguments on each side before ultimately making a decision.”

  Typhos couldn’t believe he was about to use flattery as Ramadus did, but he had to swallow his pride.

  “You are an intelligent person, sir,” Typhos said, almost stumbling on the words. “And you could be that seventh voice, the one to guide everyone, as a chief should.”

  He had to slide the last bit in for his sanity—it couldn’t all be praise nonstop for Ramadus.

  “But you won’t be if you let the council stay at five, as you have for a year.”

  “Hmm,” Ramadus said, as Typhos folded his hands together. “You make an excellent point. You make many excellent points. I will take this under consideration, Typhos. I will let you know what decision I end up making. I have to be honest, I enjoy the way the council is aligned right now. I would rather a group of five come to a decision than have one person be the one to decide all.”

  Is he just this stupid?

  “Sir, it’s not quite like that. If four vote, it never comes to you. And there is always one swing person. It just to happens that if you fill that spot, it goes to the most valued and intelligent member of the Kastori.”

  Typhos almost broke form and laughed but kept his serious expression as he finished.

  “Understood. I will communicate with you once I make my decision.”

  Typhos had no faith in Ramadus making the right decision, and he had little faith in him even making a decision at all. But Typhos had at least taken a step in the right direction, and he bowed begrudgingly to Ramadus.

  “Thank you, sir,” Typhos said, and not even here could he hide his sarcasm.

  Ramadus bowed back, took his leave in his tent, and Typhos immediately teleported to the edge of the forest so he could scream in frustration.

  38

  Three months later, Typhos had no answer.

  Beyond furious, he returned to Ramadus’ tent and waited for the chief to return all day—and, eventually, much of the night. The sky had gotten completely dark by the time the chief showed up, yawning and weary. It’s times like these I wish I just had someone else do the work for me so I could not have to deal with this nuisance.

  “Typhos?” Ramadus said. “Son, it’s late. You should be in bed. It’s past your bedtime.”

  Screw you.

  “I understand sir, but you said three months ago that you would take the filling of the council seat into consideration. I just… I feel like it wouldn’t take three months to make such a decision, and—”

  “Oh, Typhos, all decisions a chief makes are difficult.”

  For you, maybe. Not for the rest of us.

  “I am still debating the merits of filling that seat. I promise when I make such a decision, you will know.”

  “But—”

  “Son, go to sleep. It has been a long day.”

  Full of simple conversations that blew your mind, I bet.

  “We can talk more during the day when I finish my work if you wish. Until then, please.”

  He walked into his tent, ignoring the fuming boy.

  Time to start looking at different ways of gaining control.

  More violent ways, perhaps.

  39

  Three years later, Typhos stood on the beach alone. He practiced his tremendous magic skills, wearing the faceless, haunting mask as he did during almost all of his waking hours. He practiced shooting lightning spells at multiple locations simultaneously and did the same with his fire and ice spells. He had gotten good at focusing on three targets at a time, but that did not satisfy Typhos. Need to hit six at once. If not more.

  When the day comes, and you fight, you have to be prepared to take them all on at once. You have the strength to easily defeat one. Maybe even three. But six will cripple you and beat you.

  You could always enroll Pagus, Hanna, and the rest of younger Kastori.

  No. They won’t fight. They won’t fight against you, but they won’t actually fight for you.

  Don’t act until you are ready. Three years isn’t nearly as long as being held prisoner for life.

  Of course, Ramadus could always pull a miracle and open a spot, but hah. Please. The idiot wouldn’t open it if the council recommended it unanimously. He’s too lazy and incompetent.

  Which will make it all the sweeter when he’s finished.

  Typhos cast the strongest lightning spell he could, so great it blind
ed him through the mask. It produced a deafening thunder that even those on the council likely heard, and Typhos grinned in pleasure at the thought of Ramadus fearing what Typhos had done.

  He sensed the coming of an elder.

  Slowly, he turned, eager to frighten another out-of-touch Kastori.

  But when Fargus came into view, he quickly knelt and removed his mask. Fargus motioned for him to rise, and slowly, with the slow walk of a man in his last months, if not weeks, Fargus stood in front of the rising Typhos.

  “Ramadus is opening the sixth spot on the council,” Fargus said, his voice gravely and afflicted with various diseases.

  “What,” Typhos deadpanned, too shocked to respond. Fargus wouldn’t joke with you. He’s serious.

  He’s serious!

  About time.

  “Nice!” Typhos said, a genuine smile exploding on his face. “Finally! Finally! Been working on Ramadus for three years to get on that. Oh, oh wow. Whew.”

  And now I can take the “diplomatic” route instead of the forceful one. They’ll be spared.

  “Did he say why, though?”

  Fargus shook his head.

  “Be aware, Typhos, you will not be running uncontested.”

  “Yeah, but no one has the power I—”

  “Don’t assume such a thing.”

  Oh.

  Someone else has the power needed to serve on the council, and Ramadus was waiting. He never wanted me on. That’s why he mocked me three years ago. That… that…

  Typhos felt sure his facial expression gave away his feelings, but he didn’t care and assumed even Fargus would have sympathy for him.

  “Remember, come calm,” Fargus said with a short nod. He slowly trudged away, now relying on the teleportation magic to travel more than his own two feet.

  Come calm. You come angry, you’ll disqualify yourself. You’ll really have to overthrow Ramadus. Which wouldn’t be too bad.

  Honestly, in some ways, just… killing Ramadus would be better than serving for him on the council.

  Hey! Typhos! Slow down. Capture him, don’t make it messy.

  Take this opportunity. It’s the less messy of all your options. If Ramadus proves how foolish he is once more… then we discuss the end of the chief.

  40

  Typhos stood before the council of five and its chief—its great and lovely chief—with his mask off. His eyes burned with a desire that only an appointment to the council could quench. In front of him, the entire council and Ramadus wore their masks, a sight the young man was better equipped to handle. Their masks had some definition to them, though not enough to make out any emotions.

  It’s a great council. It’s a great council. They can read your mind. It’s a great council.

  “State your name, please,” Ramadus began, his voice sounding bored.

  “Typhos Kaos,” Typhos annunciated slowly and clearly for all to hear.

  “Why are you here?”

  His voice… he has a nice voice. Yes, yes he does.

  “I am here to request your permission to assume the sixth spot on the council. I—”

  “Thank you, Typhos,” Ramadus said, and Typhos started to have a bad feeling that Ramadus would deliberately not take on the information he needed. Is this rigged—no, no of course not, it’s a fair competition and process.

  He stole a glance at the other council members, but they all remained still as statues, not even moving their arms as Ramadus spoke. He couldn’t even sense any emotions from them—not that he wanted to, lest that give a bad impression to the council.

  “Now, Typhos Kaos,” Ramadus said with a hint of disgust. “Tell us why you are a good fit for the council of honorary Kastori.”

  Again, the emphasis… this is fair and this is just.

  “Very well,” Typhos said, clearing his throat. “My father and my mother served this council with great honor and great humility for the duties of the job. They reminded me on a constant basis that to become a council member does not reflect on one’s own path, but on the path they can set Kastori society on. I have tried to take all of their lessons, and though I will admit in previous years I held rather unethical ambitions for the council, my desire once I have this position to help others has never wavered. Since that one terrible mistake, I have also made sure all of my actions are in line with what the council and Kastori society would desire. However, one cannot ignore that error, so let me say it again before everyone here. I am sorry for lying in an attempt to shadow the council. My actions were ill-fitting for a possible councilor, and I have made every effort to become a better man since.”

  And… can’t pick up anything. Keep going, you’ve rehearsed this many times, and there are no lies in this.

  “I believe that with my powers, a blessing from Aida and Adanus, I will be able to serve the council in as great a capacity as anyone could. I believe that with my relationship with councilors such as Garron and Fargus, that I will be able to acclimate immediately and easily. I believe that I have great relations with people who are not on the council and thus understand what we will need to do as they speak to me. I am friends with many people of my generation and can thus speak on their behalf when matters come up which would affect them.”

  As long as they don’t mind that I’ve isolated myself for the last couple of years. Hey, lifetime, it’s true. You will be a strong representative of your age group.

  “I wish to become a council member to help guide the people of Anatolus in the right direction, and believe that I am a good fit accordingly. Thank you for allowing me to be here.”

  Yes. Sincerely. Thank you.

  Typhos gave a slight, courteous bow and smiled politely. With the speech over, he decided to take a risk and cast a quick sense spell to gauge the mood in the meeting.

  Nothing. Everyone’s a blank slate.

  But he could look, and all masks turned to Ramadus in the middle, who gave a simple nod and seemed to bow in thought.

  “Does anyone have any questions for this boy?”

  Typhos bit his lip and tried not to show any reaction, but that comment had infuriated him. I’m twenty. Not fifteen. And no twenty-year-old has dealt with the experiences I have.

  “Yes,” Garron said, and Typhos was hopeful for an easy question. “Typhos, there are many secrets on this council that we do not share with the outside world for reasons that will become clear if you become a member. You will learn things that your mother and father never told you, and I need to know how you will handle realizing that your parents hid things from you.”

  So much for easy. This seems like a trap question. Typhos smiled and nodded before he launched into his answer, wishing he could wear a mask like everyone else.

  “The job that my parents had was a difficult one, no doubt, and sometimes, I can imagine it’s best for people not to know everything. I’m sure some things will come as a shock, and some things will surprise me, and I’ll wonder why some things are a secret. But I’m also sure that I will be empathic and respectful of what my parents kept secret. My parents never kept secret their love and affection for me, so if it turns out, say, that the oceans of Anatolus had some secrets down below, then I can live with that.”

  Indeed. I promise. Completely.

  He’d made it up on the fly, but Typhos felt like it was the perfect answer. He had invoked their love for him and had shown that he was emotionally stable.

  “OK, I have one,” Ramadus said. “You have a great deal of magical skills, Typhos. Some would say too much.”

  You… calm down, calm down. Some do say that. It’s a legitimate statement. Not the first time you’ve heard it said.

  First time by a chief.

  It’s OK. It’s fair.

  “The people would wonder if your ascension to council member would be inevitable, a sort of gift more than something earned. As a result, some would feel like you are not actually qualified for the position. What do you have to say to that?”

  Typhos smiled as a way o
f making his mind follow his expression.

  “I can only prove that with my actions on the council, sir. That’s the kind of thing where I can stand here and make multiple promises, but in the end, they’re just words. That’s a good question, but I would need time. And I would use time to help our people, and make them realize that regardless of how I got to the council, I am using my powers for the benefit of the people.”

  No one else seemed to have any questions, and so Ramadus bowed.

  “Typhos Kaos, we thank you for your time,” he said. “We will interview the next candidate, and then bring you both back for a decision.”

  “Thank you all,” Typhos said, and he was teleported.

  Typhos breathed the abundance of oxygen upon returning to his outpost and exhaled loudly. Good performance. Didn’t show too many bad emotions to the awful chief. Maintained positive thoughts mostly throughout. Maybe even scored sympathy by invoking my parents. Said all true things.

  Long as the other councilor isn’t like a dead chief or something, should be good.

  Unless Ramadus proves his “worth” again.

  41

  Typhos spent the rest of the day with anxiety coursing through him as he realized just how little control he had over the decision. He felt he had given a great speech, but the other candidate and the unpredictability of Ramadus made the possibility of his appointment out of his hands. Just give me resolution soon so I know which way to go.

  Sitting in his tent as night fell, he heard the footsteps of Garron approaching and rose to meet Pagus’ father.

  “It’s time, Typhos,” Garron said. “Come with me.”

  “Can you tell me anything before we go, Garron?”

  Garron slowly shook his head. Bad sign.

  “Just that the other woman was a legitimate candidate. Is a legitimate candidate. We cast our votes in secret, and then Ramadus cast his, and he announced that there was a winner.”

  “Will they say what the voting percentages were, and who voted for who?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He doesn’t look happy. This is really bad.