Kastori Revelations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 1)

by Stephen Allan

  “We’ll stop here for the night. I recommend sleeping in the trees. The branches are thick enough to rest on comfortably and high enough to stay away from danger on the ground. Take your bags up.”

  She began climbing before either Orthran responded. Even when Celeste came up, Crystil didn’t stop, already at the third branch.

  “What about the big monster in the sky?”

  “Better up here surrounded by vegetation than out in the open,” Crystil said, knowing that just meant terrible odds became marginally bad odds.

  She climbed what felt like a hundred feet before stopping. The branch provided plenty of support, and she knew as long as she laid on her side she wouldn’t fall. Cyrus scaled ahead of Celeste and settled in ten feet below Crystil. By the time all three of them had rested on their back, the sun had disappeared, leaving behind some light on the west side of the planet but a growing darkness on the east. A disquieting silence set in as Crystil waited for the creature to appear.

  “Crystil, how often do you think of Monda?”

  Celeste’s question mercifully distracted Crystil.

  “More than I care to admit,” she said, trying to sound warm. “Honestly… I sometimes think of Dyson and I back at home.”

  “Sometimes?” Celeste asked innocently.

  Crystil smiled and acknowledged the underselling of the statement.

  “I try not to. I can’t bring him back. But…”

  She sighed. Fighting her feelings was pointless.

  “I just think of the time we went to the Reygar Mountains for our honeymoon. Let me tell you, Celeste, that is a gorgeous place with beautiful views.”

  “I know!” Celeste said excitedly, and for just a bit, Crystil enjoyed reminiscing. “My father took us when we were kids. He loved that place. Well, if he’d seen what we have here, he’d think that wasn’t even a warm-up!”

  “It’s a warm-up for me,” Cyrus said.

  Celeste and even Crystil laughed. Their laughter slowly died, leading to a pleasant sigh from Celeste.

  “Cyrus, I don’t know what I would do without you here,” Celeste said. “I would’ve probably just quit a while ago. But you’ve always been there for me, and I know you’ll be there always.”

  Crystil listened intently. It was a different kind of love, sibling love, than romantic love, but the commitment and bond were just as unbreakable.

  “I know, Celeste. I’ll keep making jokes that upset Crystil and hold you tight when you need it.”

  Crystil smiled and laughed to show her appreciation. She rolled over as the two siblings continued talking and yearned for that connection again. The connection from deep love.

  As it stood, only two people were going to be able to give that to her. One of whom she was getting close to, but in the big sister role.

  The second was more bizarre. Just thinking of Cyrus in that amatory light felt so odd it felt gross, perhaps a bit unfathomable. But she knew just a few days before, she could’ve killed him in anger if Celeste hadn’t expressed so much horror. She no longer wanted to do that.

  She turned her attention to the stars, focusing on trying to create constellations from her new vantage point in the universe. She could imagine balicaes, gigantes, lupi, and many other creatures. If she tried, she could even imagine Dyson up there, smiling down.

  Despite not believing in the afterlife, with so much destruction and ruins in her life, even Crystil could let her mind imagine her deceased husband in the sky.

  No monster appeared that night. The stars never disappeared from view. Aside from some gentle animal vocalizations on the ground, no growls or cries reached Crystil’s ears. Within just a couple hours of the sun setting, Crystil drifted into her dreams, where she didn’t have to imagine Dyson—she could actually hug him and touch him.

  13

  Cyrus slowly woke up with his head pressed against the tree to see Celeste and Crystil had already descended. He looked below and saw the two women talking and joking. He wished that he could have that amusing, intelligent, and funny banter with Crystil, but couldn’t see a way to get there.

  He rose, imagining himself doing acrobatic flips and landing on the ground with an exaggerated bow.

  “Yo ladies!” he said. “Wanna watch me be Anatolus’ greatest acrobat and descend a hundred feet in ten seconds?”

  “No!” Celeste shouted, which brought laughter from Cyrus.

  “Relax,” he yelled, his hands gesturing downward. “I’ll come down in eleven seconds.”

  He laughed again but climbed down cautiously except for the last branch, from which he jumped down. He landed with a deep bend of the knees, stumbled forward, caught himself, and took the exaggerated bow. Celeste crossed her arms and shook her head, her bangs unable to hide her grin. Crystil looked like she was trying to suppress a smile.

  “Great, kid, don’t get cocky,” she said as she walked to the plains.

  “Kid? Kid?!? There’s only one kid here, and it’s—”

  “You!” Celeste and Crystil said together.

  Cyrus shrugged, admitting the truth, and the walk to the ocean resumed.

  Though silence became the theme of the walk, Cyrus had had enough. He wanted to know more about what Crystil was talking about the previous night. He hesitated, wondering if what he was doing was smart, but spoke before he overthought the matter.

  “So, tell me about Dyson.”

  Crystil grimaced, but not angrily.

  “He was a pilot for the empire. I met him in training, and we stayed in touch and eventually became a couple. He taught me how to fly, I taught him close quarters combat. It was a great relationship.”

  “What made him so great? What about him?”

  “I—”

  Crystil paused.

  “I’ll tell you more when we’re back at the ship and don’t have to watch for unknown dangers.”

  Cyrus knew he’d gotten everything he could. He retreated to Celeste, letting Crystil take the lead by about a dozen feet. Celeste gave him a knowing look, but he kept his mouth shut.

  They marched for many more hours, not even stopping to eat—instead, Crystil ordered them to eat as they walked. Cyrus hated the taste of cold vegetables and eggs and considered tossing the ration, but didn’t want to face his leader’s wrath. The sun and temperature became an issue, but neither Orthran wanted to be the weak one who couldn’t keep up with Crystil.

  Finally, as the sun had an hour left in the sky, Cyrus smelled it. The wind carried a misty scent which took him back home to the beaches of Monda. The air felt crisper, and the winds blew more frequently. He smiled broadly, and shouted, “Water!” Celeste’s and Crystil’s expressions glowed at the word.

  The sound of the waves from over a hill came. Cyrus sprinted up the hill, higher than it looked from a distance. His legs burned, but not nearly as much as his desire to have a lifetime supply of water. He got to the top and paused when he reached a cliff about thirty feet high.

  “Really,” he said, but his anger dissipated when he looked left and saw a path to the beach. He quickly descended and paused in front of the water.

  “Wow,” he said, his voice softening. “And to think, this stretches out over almost all of the planet.”

  He laughed when it hit him how much he had yet to explore. Maybe civilizations in the sea. Why not? Or in the mountains. We haven’t explored anything here!

  He turned to see Crystil reaching into her backpack for a containerwhile Celeste gawked. Cyrus, wanting the first taste, put his hands in the water, cupped a mouthful, and swallowed it.

  “Cyrus!” Crystil yelled. “You gotta let us test it!”

  Salty.

  Too salty.

  “I don’t think this is drinkable,” he mumbled.

  He again reached down. Concentrating on the water running over the bumps of his tongue not only reinforced the saltiness, but it also enhanced it. He sighed and stood up, his face in a tight, disappointed expression.

  “So, uh, we’re pretty m
uch screwed,” he said, his hands thrown up in defeated acceptance. “We got three years left on this planet, and we’re dead. Good game. Good effort.”

  “Wow, hey, Cyrus, easy,” Celeste said. “Maybe the ship can change this into drinking water. Or maybe there are sources of drinking water we haven’t found.”

  “She’s right,” Crystil said as she walked past them, scooping water into her container. “I can’t promise that Omega One can transform this into real water, but it can pull off some impressive feats. Let’s not dig our graves until we know it’s the only thing left.”

  Cyrus, generally cheerful around Celeste, would have none of it. All the negative events avalanched. He had no water, his commander hated him, the planet wanted to kill him, his sister was afraid, and he had lost his father. Insanity had begun to control his mind.

  “Yeah, OK, so we get drinking water. Then what? We still have Death incarnated flying above us, waiting to kill us the moment we—”

  “Wasn’t there last night,” Crystil interjected, clearly annoyed.

  “So we won the first night. Great. And the minute it shows up tonight, we lose. Or we kill it, and a new threat pops up. I’m not seeing the point.”

  “Cyrus!” Celeste said, heavy disappointment evident in her voice. “You’re going to quit when we’ve examined one out of many possible water sources? Really? You can’t quit! Remember what I said yesterday? You want to leave me hanging? Are you going to give up on yourself like that?”

  Frustrated, Cyrus marched ahead without a word.

  “Where are you going?” Celeste asked.

  “The ship!”

  Celeste and Crystil quickly followed. They gave him at least twenty feet of space. He ignored the night sky, not caring if the monster appeared. He only cared that if it did, Celeste wouldn’t die.

  He knew he was as good as dead in three years and didn’t feel like putting up a fight to prevent the end.

  14

  Crystil let Cyrus lead until nightfall, at which point she ordered everyone up into the trees. By her estimation, they’d only gained three miles on the return trip, making it almost a guarantee they’d have to spend a fourth day outside. That meant they had another night in the monster’s domain. Every night outside was their biggest gamble yet.

  Cyrus again only climbed to the lowest branch, about fifty feet off the ground, while Celeste and Crystil climbed a hundred feet. Celeste asked for Cyrus to come up, but he didn’t even answer. At least he didn’t run off yet.

  Crystil looked down and heard the rustling of creatures in the grass, the clicking of insects and nocturnal animals chewing leaves. She placed one hand on the limb that supported her, while the other gently held the container with the water of the ocean. It almost certainly wasn’t the elixir of life, for even with all of the technological advances on Monda, none could turn salt water into fresh water. Yet knowing how secretive the empire could be, she held out hope.

  And if not, we’ll explore the mountains.

  A deep growl came from behind her in the forest. Suddenly, she heard the scampering of something climbing up the tree. She reached for her knife and held it in her right hand, hiding her body for a preemptive attack. It stopped, and she let out a slow sigh at Cyrus’ voice.

  “I ain’t dying to something I can’t see,” he said as Crystil placed the water container in her backpack.

  More scampering came as three creatures resembling precora with thick, mane-like fur burst out onto the plains. Lupi chased but suddenly stopped at the edge of the forest. The precora kept running at full speed.

  “Poor lupi aren’t getting fed tonight,” Cyrus cracked, but Crystil shivered as it dawned on her why the lupi stopped.

  Crystil heard a deep rumbling above her, created by the force of something massive moving, along with a low growl. She looked up, and though all the stars still shone, she didn’t need that proof. The lupi, without a sound, retreated into the forest, pressing themselves low to the ground. She quietly slid her knife down and grabbed her rifle in case the beast came close, even knowing a creature of that size would treat bullets like annoying pricks.

  The precora froze. Crystil gulped and looked at Cyrus and Celeste, who pressed themselves against the tree. She held one finger up to her mouth, and they silently gave a thumbs up. Crystil slowly went to her stomach, cocking the rifle and preparing to fire.

  A deafening roar blasted through the air, so loud that Crystil’s ears rang out with a high-pitched screech. Before she regained her hearing, she felt the force of the monster flying above the trees, almost knocking her off the branch. She stayed on, but her rifle fell to the ground.

  A horrifying scream from the precora pierced through Crystil’s recovering hearing. It sent chills through Crystil’s spine, sending her back to Eve’s death. Crystil looked in horror at the outline of the predatory creature.

  It stood towering over the trees they sat in. The creature was about four hundred feet. It had a broad back from which featherless wings spread out. Its back had rigid spikes, and it had a tail with a spear for an end that could impale anything, including, Crystil realized, Omega One. It reared back and roared to the sky, and Crystil saw four arms, two with claws, two longer ones with pointed spikes at the end. The creature also had thick, short legs.

  She watched in horror, backing up toward the base of the tree, as the monster impaled the precora and ate them, the smaller creatures crying out for a quick death. Crystil put her hand on her mouth and bit down on her arm sleeve so she would not bring attention to herself.

  “Oh no,” Celeste said, and Crystil’s worst fear came true as the creature turned to them, still chewing the remains of the precora.

  The beast had a scaly belly and, indeed, four monstrous arms, the better to kill all three of them at once. It had a black hide that ran all over its body, making it blend in with the night. It had a long snout, which brought back terrible reminders of the nakar, and fangs which could also pierce the ship. It had three horns extending from the top of its head and sinister yellow eyes. This is evil that will kill anything living which crosses its path.

  It took four steps toward them, coming to the edge of the forest. Crystil put her hand down in a stop motion, hoping neither of the siblings would panic or say anything. She had a horrifying feeling remembering what had happened in their last simulation.

  The beast lowered its face and sniffed. Crystil could feel its hot breath on her skin. She bit her lip so hard she bled. The creature gave a roar that again ruined her hearing. Fortunately, it propelled off the ground, albeit with such force it seemed to produce an earthquake. Crystil trembled as the monster vanished from her view, its outline visible only by the blocked stars.

  Crystil looked down at Cyrus and Celeste, who looked up at her with mortal fear in their eyes. No one said a word. No one gestured to the other. Crystil went back and laid against the tree.

  When sunrise came, no one had slept. No one had even attempted to rest.

  15

  Celeste climbed down the tree first, her nerves fried and her body wanting the sheets of a warm bed, even if it meant walking a dozen hours. She walked to the plains, still certain that same creature would appear in the daytime and turn them into a snack. The planet now resembled a rose with a spotlight on the petals—by day, it looked beautiful, but in the shadows lurked a particularly deadly thorn. It didn’t help that she could see the dried blood of the precoras.

  Behind her, Crystil descended and stood at the edge of the forest, waiting on Cyrus. Celeste could only imagine how much worse last night was for Crystil with her history.

  But Cyrus didn’t come down for several minutes.

  “Let’s go, Cyrus,” Crystil barked.

  Celeste made a mental note to handle Crystil delicately.

  “I told you we’re all gonna die,” Cyrus said. “What’s the point? You wanna walk back to the ship so you can live your lives out in virtual reality? There’s no point! I’m just gonna stay up here and let the world ea
t me. At least that way I’ll have an all-natural death.”

  “Fine,” Crystil said as she walked east to the ship.

  Celeste ran up to their fuming commander and grabbed her arm. Crystil angrily looked at her, and Celeste tried to tell herself the furious look was not a personal one. But she sure has a way of scaring you.

  “If you want to stay behind with Cyrus, you can. I’m not waiting on someone who has given up.”

  Celeste wanted to reason with her, but Crystil continued. No, come on. We can’t fall apart already. We had one bad night. We can figure it out. No, Cyrus, Crystil! Please!

  Much to her relief, Cyrus descended the tree and jogged to Celeste. Crystil had already made her way ahead, having gained nearly a quarter of a mile but remained in sight.

  “I’m glad you changed your mind,” Celeste said as she hugged Cyrus gently.

  “I didn’t,” he said. “Us against that thing? We might as well be blades of grass. But I decided I’d rather die with you two than not.”

  We can still figure it out.

  I hope. I really hope.

  The walking distance between them, Celeste figured, provided a blessing. Crystil’s anger might vanish, while Celeste could comfort Cyrus and snap him out of his nihilistic viewpoint. But she knew a day-long walk would not eradicate the horrifying, traumatic memory of the creature’s evil eyes, sharp teeth, and deafening cry. Celeste feared she and Cyrus would start having crippling flashbacks like Crystil.

  The longer the walk went, the more nervous Celeste became.

  How, exactly, are we going to defeat this monster? Omega One is a transportation and residential vessel, not a military one.

  Cyrus is right. We are going to die soon.

  The only question is will the planet do it or will we off ourselves?

  When the sun had dipped halfway below the horizon, Crystil said they were eight miles out. She told them she was going to jog for the ship, and if the siblings didn’t want to, they should go deeper into the forest than before. Celeste ran, and though Cyrus put his hands up, not seeing the point, he joined his sister in a fast-paced jog.