Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3)

by Stephen Allan

  “What’s sad is you used to be my best friend. And not just that. You used to be the guy that everyone wanted to be best friends with. You used to be the savior, and somehow, only a few people resented you for it. And now look at you. Disgraceful.”

  I can’t argue with any of that. I deserve it all.

  “You’re evil,” Pagus said. “I will take no joy in your execution or your imprisonment. But you are just an evil person, Typhos. You killed the chief. You killed my father. Who are you going to kill next? What makes you think that killing someone is the right way to go to it?”

  Typhos again gave no answer. There’s nothing to—

  “TALK!”

  Typhos lurched and shook at the force with which Pagus spoke, his lips trembling as he stared in the eyes of his former best friend.

  “I don’t know,” Typhos said.

  “Don’t lie to me, Typhos. I know what you’ve felt over the last few years. I’m sorry that your parents died. I really am. I, unfortunately, know what that feels like now. But you don’t see me—”

  “My mother’s not dead,” Typhos said, almost a mumble.

  “Oh, wow, really,” Pagus said, putting his arms up in frustration. “That’s the story you’re going to throw my way? That Aida came back from the dead, and that you’re influenced by her somehow? Mind controlled? Come on. First you kill my father, and now you lie to me? You… you’re the worst.”

  “I swear to you, Pagus, she’s alive!” Typhos said. “Er… Aida is here, and she—”

  “You’re actually going to argue with the son of the man whom you just killed?”

  The chilling words ended all of Typhos’ arguments then. Just remember Garron’s last words. Never hurt Pagus.

  “Sorry,” Typhos said.

  “What burns me in all of this, Typhos, is I know you’re genuine. I see it in your eyes that you are upset that you killed my father. But everything else? I can’t just look past the death of Ramadus and everything else. You don’t seem remorseful for it at all.”

  Typhos went silent, and Pagus shook his head one last time before walking out.

  “You could’ve been something special. Something really special. And instead, you let your circumstances dictate your path. Typhos, I can only hope you find your way out before it’s too late. You’ll spend the rest of your life in jail, but maybe you can do some good from here.”

  With that, he departed, and Typhos slumped down to the ground once more.

  Typhos held anger at a lot of things, but he would never be able to hold it against Pagus or his father. That was forever on him, and as long as he lived, he would not hurt Pagus, no matter how brutal or violent things got.

  Garron. Your last words will always be honored.

  47

  The next morning, Fargus woke Typhos with a loud knock on the door. The young man had barely slept.

  “Your trial is set to begin. Come with me.”

  Fargus let himself in and waited for Typhos to stand. When he had, Fargus went behind Typhos, bound his arms together, and cast a spell that muted all of his black and teleporting magic. Fargus grabbed his arm and led him out the door.

  To Typhos’ pleasant surprise, Hanna led a group of several people cheering him on.

  “We know you’re innocent!”

  “We don’t need the council!”

  “We got your back, Typhos!”

  Good. Very good.

  It’s amazing how easily goaded people are. Convince one person—especially a pretty woman—and everyone else just falls in line.

  Hello, opportunity.

  Typhos had no time to respond to anyone, though, as Fargus kept pushing him until they had walked about fifty feet. At that point, Fargus cast a spell that teleported the two of them to the stairs leading up to the peak of Mount Ardor. Typhos sensed the caves’ danger and thought about headbutting Fargus in there but quickly dispelled the thought when he realized he had no escape route.

  When Typhos reached the peak, two white magic Kastori stood on the left. Two red Kastori stood on the right, including Fargus. And to his incredible fury, his mother stood before him in black robes.

  “Welcome, Typhos Kaos,” Erda said so impersonally, with such detachment that Typhos wanted to throw her off the cliff. “You are here on trial for the charges of murder of our beloved chief, Ramadus, and one of our black magic councilors, Garron. How do you plead?”

  Should we just end this charade and say guilty? No one’s going to believe for five seconds that you didn’t do this.

  Well, if that’s the point, and you’ve got your supporters below, let’s make a mockery of the council.

  That, and if you plead guilty, the spell over Hanna and others vanishes.

  “Not guilty,” Typhos said, making his mother go through more work.

  He knew he stood no chance in a trial like this. The evidence was overwhelming. Fargus had sensed Typhos with both Ramadus and Garron in their last moments, and the knife in Garron’s body and the location implicated Typhos without the need for witnesses.

  Erda looked at him in disbelief, and he returned the look back with venom and hatred. As Typhos stared, a wild thought came to him—has she erased me completely from her mind? Is this why she is playing coy—because she genuinely doesn’t know that I am her son?

  You’re even worse than I thought if so.

  You’re rapidly running out of time to reveal yourself to me and apologize if you want anything other than the world’s most agonizing death.

  “Very well, Typhos pleads not guilty,” Erda said, her voice calm but clearly in disbelief. “We will begin. Typhos, you are welcome to give an opening statement.”

  Typhos was boiling with anger at the moment, and there was absolutely nothing about him that wanted to give an opening statement. Remember who you’re really speaking to.

  “I will simply say that I respect the council too much to ever commit such atrocities,” he said, using his powers to spread his words to the all the Kastori he could reach.

  You’re not speaking to the councilors. There will be Kastori on the ground who will hear of what you say. Use your powers to communicate to them as you talk to this worthless council.

  “I have been through a lot of pain and suffering in my life. The death of my father, the mother who lost her mind and then, most depressingly, committed suicide and left me without a parent, wandering aimlessly and hopelessly.”

  He looked at Erda for anything while he spoke.

  It was very subtle, but he could see a small glimmer of her eyes watering. She was using magic to modulate her emotions and response. Good. Let her suffer. Let her feel the misery that I’ve felt.

  “The whole time, when I was in pain and depression, I always turned to Garron for help. I always looked up to Ramadus for inspiration.”

  Be careful not to go overboard in praise with Ramadus. You’ll get exposed if so.

  “Garron was like a true father figure to me. When my mother first went on vacation, he cared for me in a way no one else did. He watched over me, but also gave me room to grow and flourish as a man. I wanted nothing but the best for Garron, so the notion that I would kill him and Ramadus is tragic and sad. Tragic, because I loved Garron and respected Ramadus. So for the council to stand here before me and say that I am responsible for their deaths, yes, that is truly a shocking accusation. That is all.”

  “Typhos!” Fargus said suddenly and abruptly. “Erda, and the rest of you, be aware that Typhos was broadcasting his message to all Kastori on Anatolus.”

  Doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to appease you. Doesn’t matter if you call me out now.

  “Thank you, Typhos, and noted, Fargus,” Erda said, her voice quivering ever so slightly when she said his name, so slight that perhaps only Typhos noticed it—or imagined it. It took him everything not to smile cockily at the sight.

  Erda also seemed nervous when she commented on Fargus’ note. Good. She should be afraid.

  “The five of us have bro
ught these charges to you. We will discuss amongst ourselves the charge, and you have the right to be here—”

  “No,” Typhos said immediately. “I have said what I need to say. If this process is as fair as it is to be believed, then you will find me innocent. If my worst fears are confirmed and this council has become corrupt, then you will find me guilty. There is nothing more I can say or object to that will matter.”

  And I want to be in the prison while emotions and support are at their highest. Chances of breaking free are highest now.

  “Fargus, take him back to the prison,” his mother said, weary and seeming to age a year per minute before his eyes.

  Typhos remained emotionless as Fargus came and teleported them outside the prison. Fargus silently put the young man in the prison, cast a spell on the locks, and vanished, returning to the peak of Mount Ardor.

  The chants for Typhos grew louder, and he knew now it was only a matter of time before the court of the people overruled the court of the council.

  48

  Typhos could hear the crowd coming, but he could not see them. He felt a rush of excitement and knew that once he escaped, the control he had would only grow.

  As the Kastori got closer, Typhos was pleasantly surprised to hear a throng of people. He didn’t know exactly how many there were, but they must have numbered in the dozens, if not hundreds. He wanted to imagine hundreds of Kastori there, screaming for his release, pressuring the council to give in, but it was just that—imagination, not reality. That would have to wait until he broke free.

  “Typhos! Typhos! Typhos!” the crowd chanted, and he began to feel dangerously confident. If the council knew how drastically different their views on him were compared to what the Kastori wanted, they might just give up. And if that happened, maybe I would spare my mother. Give her a second chance.

  Maybe that would be nice…

  Too bad it won’t happen.

  When the crowd reached him, however, to his annoyance, they just stood there, cheering his name, but not actually doing anything. Typhos found this wasteful and stupid.

  For a few minutes, Typhos just let their obnoxious cheering and chanting continue, reveling in the adulation. But he quickly became anxious.

  “Kastori!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, which he repeated twice until the voices died down. He reminded himself not to berate his followers, but to make himself a higher cause, one that inspired, not demanded, action. “I very much appreciate all of your support. You guys know the truth, and the truth will eventually reach all of Anatolus, and when I am free, I will work for you in a way that the antiquated council cannot.”

  Applause came and eventually died down, anticipating Typhos’ next words. He loved this—they couldn’t even see him, and they worshiped him. The mere sound of his voice could persuade an audience to do his bidding.

  “But for that to happen, I need to be free. And it is not enough to plan for the day that I am free. The council up there? They will not free me. They will never free me and would love nothing more than to keep me captive until the day I die.”

  He waited while the jeers for the council died down, and Typhos felt emboldened.

  “But you all can! Use your magic. Unlock this door. Free me, and I shall lead us against the traitorous council! I shall lead us to new heights and new worlds, and my power will save all of you! I will be the savior!”

  Roars erupted, and Typhos heard the sounds so pleasing to him—the cracking of the door, the shattering of locks, the breaking of spells, and the door swinging open. At the front stood Hanna, who embraced Typhos. He wore a menacing smile as he walked out and faced the crowd for the first time. By no means was it the majority, or even close to the majority, of Kastori society. It was enough, however, to create problems for the council. Probably a couple hundred or so. More than enough to work with.

  “You have all done a great thing today,” Typhos said as he held his hands out as if blessing the crowd. Kastori—mostly younger Kastori his age, with very few older members—went nuts as they cheered, screamed, and clapped for him. “The old guard has become tired, ineffective and weak in leading our people. Ramadus was weak, and though his death is tragic, it also presents us an opportunity to go forward. Many of the surviving council members are weak. They will not survive more than a few years. This is our chance to rule Anatolus as we know we can!”

  The crowd roared its approval. Typhos looked up to the tall mountain of Mount Ardor and was certain the council knew of his escape. He could not storm the council and preferred to do what he did before—take out his enemies one by one, silently picking them off, until there was no one left but himself. He strongly disliked the idea of someone in the crowd getting to take out a council member during a battle.

  But Typhos knew he needed them because he didn’t know what kind of strategies the council would have. There were numerous council sympathizers who would fight Typhos as he attacked. He knew Anatolus was slowly devolving into a Kastori Civil War. The old guard was not just the five remaining council members, but those who had grown up in the days of sworn fealty to the council. It would get messy and bloody, and the only person Typhos intended on sparing was Pagus.

  “For right now, though, we must be aware of what the council plans to do next,” Typhos said. “In an ideal world, they will all resign, acknowledging our numbers, our will, and our determination. But, I must warn you, I have seen the world, and it is not ideal. It is tragic. It is sad. It is tough. But it is not indestructible. It is something we can overcome. And whatever the council does… we will crush it!”

  The crowd cheered, and Typhos led the way.

  “We will take refuge in the far south of the continent.”

  Turning Ramadus’ home into our base. Plus, makes it hard to surround us if we’re backed up by the ocean.

  “Anyone there must surrender to us immediately. Bring anyone who refuses to join us to me!”

  Typhos smiled as he looked back up at the peak of Mount Ardor. A battle was coming, and he was going to prepare for it with the strength of pawns. All of you will die. This is my planet now.

  No.

  This is my universe now.

  49

  Typhos commandeered the old tent of Ramadus, forcing the former chief’s son, Gaius, into his troop. Inside, he drank more alcohol and plotted his next target. All of the councilors. Fargus… he can live. The rest go. My mother is mine for me alone. Anyone who stands in our way.

  After his fifth gulp of alcohol, he heard his name softly at the door. Hanna entered, her walk slow and her face concerned. The spell’s wearing off, isn’t it.

  “Typhos, there’s someone here to speak to you from the council,” she said, but her eyes expressed further thoughts she hadn’t articulated.

  “Understood,” Typhos said, and he tossed the bottle to the ground, shattering it.

  “Typhos.”

  He paused just to the side of Hanna. Her eyes seemed to shake, though they had no tears or foreshadowed any tears coming.

  “What exactly is it that you’re planning to do?”

  She’s nervous. Spell is wearing off.

  “It’s simple, Hanna. I’m going to take control from the council and rule this planet justly. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “I wish I could believe you,” she cooed. “But people have died already.”

  Typhos sighed. He placed his hand on her shoulder and closed his eyes for just a couple of seconds—long enough to cast a spell to his choosing.

  “I will do everything I can not to kill people, Hanna. But sometimes, when power shifts from one generation to the next… the other side may not like losing that power. But I promise people will not die unnecessarily. Understood?”

  A smile spread across Hanna’s face, and her eyes stopped shaking.

  “Yes, that seems fair. Thank you, Typhos.”

  Thank you, magic. Typhos dismissed her and went to grab another bottle before remembering a councilor had come. He
instead grabbed a knife and walked outside, his mask now equipped and ready to haunt whomever he encountered.

  “Behind the tent.”

  Fargus.

  Typhos ignored other Kastori in the area and made his way to the rear, where he came face-to-face with the frail old man in red robes. To his surprise, the elder, with his knees shaking and his breathing shallow, bowed to him. Unsure of how to respond—and with his anger tempered—Typhos motioned for Fargus to rise, which he did with some difficulty. Only the fear of a spell by Fargus kept Typhos from helping the old man.

  “Look at what you have become,” Fargus said. “You have killed two people. You have run from the consequences. This is not you, Typhos.”

  Typhos turned back to the outpost and sensed some of the Kastori eavesdropping. Annoyed, he cast a barrier around the two of them.

  “What would you have me do, Fargus?” he said as he turned back.

  “Take off the mask, for starters. I want to talk to you, not a mask designed to strike fear in us.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes,” Fargus replied with no hesitancy.

  Always honest. Typhos waited a beat and knelt to remove the mask. Fargus made no attempt to restrain him and allowed him to regain his senses.

  “Now, I would ask you to reconsider your approach. You know brute force and violence is not the answer. The people behind you may follow you today. But tomorrow they may be unsheathing their knives to stab you in the back. They know the anger you direct at us may soon be directed at them.”

  Despite the barrier Typhos had erected, some Kastori watched with curiosity. About six people on each side of the tent observed, putting pressure on Typhos.

  “So then you don’t… you don’t want to bring me in?”

  “I do. And I need to.”

  “Then this conversation is moot,” Typhos said, doing his best to remain calm but unable to ignore his annoyance.

  “Typhos,” Fargus said, his voice coming out so weak Typhos thought it sounded like Fargus’ last words. “I will make sure that you do not get executed for your crimes. Such a punishment does little to advance our society as a whole and is a product of an era in which we were not as unified as we are. But you are, unfortunately, threatening the unification of the Kastori, and you must face the consequences of your action.”