Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4)

by Stephen Allan

“You’re just going to leave him behind?”

  “You’re just going to take on another murderer into your circle?”

  “Big difference between Typhos and Novus.”

  “Not as much as you would think. Both are delusional, you know. I’d be willing to bet anything both have killed people.”

  There he goes again. Talking about things in black and white terms.

  “Cyrus, we don’t know anything about him. Remember how you said isolation made you insane? Well, same idea.”

  “Maybe,” he said as a large aviant screeched overhead. Celeste gazed up at the majestic creature, far larger than anything on Monda or Anatolus. Its white wings glistened in the sky as it rose.

  “There are worst places to lose your mind, though,” Celeste said as she watched the creature fly off. “With creatures like that, at least you have a sense of kinship with the planet.”

  Cyrus chuckled, and Celeste knew he didn’t agree at all. Fortunately, he unusually kept his mouth shut, and the two continued trudging through the snow north.

  The dreaded evening came, and the winds seemed to pick up. What had once felt like knives cutting soon turned into a feeling of scythes abrasively slashing their skin. The chill reached unbearable temperatures, and it threatened to only get worse. Celeste unsheathed her sword and gave it a fire spell, which helped some—but not nearly enough. Cyrus did the same, but the heat only reached his own body, not both of them.

  They looked around for any shelter, but Vostoka resembled Nubia all too well, except with snow instead of sand. They could see for miles and miles, a sight both beautiful and depressing at the same time.

  “We should have listened to the old man,” Cyrus lamented. “Should’ve waited until sunrise.”

  “And then on the return trip we would have suffered the same,” Celeste said. “We just have to suck it up. I can teleport us some, but I don’t know that it’ll work that well. We’ll only be able to teleport as far as I can see, and then I’ll need time to recover before going into the cave.”

  Celeste grabbed Cyrus’ arm as they teleported forward, but they only gained an additional five miles before Celeste needed rest, leaving them ten miles out with the darkness of the sky nearing.

  And then Celeste saw what she hoped was her salvation.

  “Cyrus, I think I have an idea to at least keep us warm temporarily, but you’re not going to like it.”

  An ursus meandered about a hundred yards to the east of them. Though Celeste had never gotten comfortable with hunting—even as she ate meat—her desire for survival in the harsh winter environment took over. She quickly put the creature to sleep, the better so that it would not die painfully, and used her red magic to carry it back to Cyrus. She laid the creature in front of him.

  “So… I love a good meal as much as anyone, but—”

  But then Celeste shocked him when she sliced its belly open, causing much of its guts to spill out. The smell was nauseating, and Cyrus vomited to the side after about two seconds. Celeste reached down and placed her hand near the spilled intestines and organs.

  “It’s the warmest place we’re going to find on this planet,” she said.

  “Oh man, Crystil is not going to want to be near me after this,” Cyrus mumbled.

  The two, groaning and holding their nose at the smell, curled up near the exposed creature. The heat was almost too much, as Celeste felt like removing a layer of clothing, but she gladly embraced the warmth of the creature’s guts. The warmth ran over her body, starting from her face, fogging up her goggles, and then reaching down to her chest, stomach, and legs. The smell never quite went away, but it at least became tolerable enough that she was able to shut her eyes and focus on resting.

  “Man, Crystil really isn’t going to want to see me after this,” Cyrus said with a moan.

  “I think she can look past—or should I say, smell past—this,” Celeste said. “When are you going to make a move, anyways?”

  “Well, someone suggested doing it before Nubia, and I thought that was a great idea, but then we returned and someone thought it was an emergency to get over to Vostoka, so next thing you know, I’m out here with my sister, sleeping with the appendix of an ursus on my face, wondering where I went wrong.”

  The continuous speech from Cyrus brought an unexpected degree of laughter from Celeste.

  “You went wrong when you decided to try and help me,” she said with a playful elbow. “Or maybe even when you decided to rescue Crystil and I that one night.”

  Cyrus snorted and gave a short chuckle.

  “I guess I did make a difference here, huh?”

  Celeste sat up and looked at Cyrus. She laughed when she saw the creature’s organs laid exactly as Cyrus had described them.

  “You made a difference in making sure I smell better,” she said. “But seriously, yes. Don’t ever doubt it, Cyrus. The most powerful of us are sometimes the most shackled as well. Don’t feel like what you do doesn’t matter.”

  Cyrus didn’t respond with words, but his genuine smile gave away how he felt. He stretched out and groaned before saying, “OK, first one to sleep wins.”

  To Celeste’s surprise, even with the freezing temperatures and still-grotesque smell, she passed out before she could even cycle through her thoughts of all the things Cyrus had done for her in the last six months, let alone her lifetime.

  14

  Celeste woke up starving, her stomach growling as loudly as a hunting ursus.

  But she was alive, and she did not shiver as she had the night before.

  She slowly rolled over and came to her knees, dusting off the snow that had accumulated on her overnight. She looked at Cyrus, still asleep, breathing comfortably. The ursus had lost most of its heat, but what heat it had given had sufficed for survival. Up above, the sun had just crested the horizon, giving them a full day to work. We can’t wait. Not if we want to return to the outpost before sunset.

  She reached down and shook Cyrus’ shoulders.

  “…Crystil, what? What? Huh?”

  “Cyrus, come on. We gotta go. New day. Time to move before it gets much colder.”

  “Aww,” he said as he slowly sat up. He accepted Celeste’s hand as she lifted him off the ground. “I was having such a good dream, too.”

  Don’t tell me. Let’s just get going.

  She made sure she had her supplies, and once Cyrus confirmed he had his as well, the two marched once more through the wintry plains, aware of but not observing the wildlife that surrounded them.

  As Celeste got closer to the cave, she could sense an exponential increase in the power. What had started out as a faint glimmer turned into a bright power and soon became almost too intense for Celeste to concentrate on. But just as Celeste searched for the power, something about the magic in the planet seemed to call for her. It gleamed brighter whenever she turned her attention to it as if shining a distress light her way.

  “Do you feel it, Cyrus?” she asked.

  “What? The weather? Oh, you best believe I feel it.”

  He doesn’t. It’s calling to me directly.

  After another half hour of walking, she saw it.

  The ground sloped gently into a short cliff, and at the wall of the cliff, the symbol of magic awaited her. She took a few steps forward but stopped when Cyrus did not follow her.

  “Every time I take a step forward, it’s like I’ve hit an arctic blast worse than last night,” he said. “Celeste, I think you are meant to go there alone.”

  Celeste turned back to the cave. She could now see light green energy waves pulsing around the entrance as if sneaking out for a glimpse before rushing back in. The energy advanced in her direction before abruptly heading back into the cave.

  “Yeah, it’s definitely you alone,” Cyrus said.

  “It looks that way. You can head back to the outpost if you want. I don’t know how long this will take.”

  “You want me to go hang out with Novus? Are you mad?” Cyrus said with a
smirk. “No way. I’m waiting for you here. If this process weakens you, you’re going to need a hero to bring you back.”

  “How delightful,” Celeste said, turning back to the cave.

  As she approached the cave, the outside world seemed to fade away. The sky became darker much faster than it should have—by the time she reached the entrance of the cave, it looked like nighttime all over again—and when she turned to face Cyrus, he said something she could no longer hear. The green waves of energy coalesced around her, gently guiding her toward an area underneath the magical symbol. When she looked up and back, she saw the world as if underwater—everything was blurry, undefined, and shaking.

  Celeste glanced at the symbol, and the cave opened up. A flight of stairs appeared before her, guiding her down to an area which she could not see from her vantage point. She descended about thirty steps and saw a small platform ahead about twenty feet. The green energy left her and formed a circle around the platform as if inviting her to come and stand on it. She took one last glance up toward the entrance, but it was pitch black. At least I have experience in these kinds of spots, she thought.

  Slowly, she approached the platform, just large enough to hold one person. In the middle, the symbol of magic appeared once more. She placed one foot on, and nothing happened. She placed her second foot on, and she heard a click.

  The platform dropped.

  Her stomach flipped, not prepared for the sudden drop, but her body quickly got used to it as it became apparent the fall was controlled. Around her, ice crystals formed, displaying her reflection. She saw a woman much stronger and with greater fortitude than she remembered seeing. I am not the little girl who left Anatolus. I’m not even the woman who survived Typhos and his anger.

  I’m something more. I’m…

  The platform slowed before she could finish her thoughts. A giant cavern appeared, reminding her of the cave where she had encountered the lupi clan on Anatolus. The symbol appeared on the ceiling, so massive a symbol that it was probably bigger than Omega One was. The rest of the cavern looked remarkably clear and clean, with ice on the walls, solid rock on the ground, and a perfectly spherical shape forming it.

  “Welcome, Celeste,” a voice said in her head.

  “Vostoka?” she asked. The voice came to her in a different way than most telepathic communication had. This one seemed universal, not from an exact location.

  “Yes. Celeste, you have reached a place no one else has. I have guarded this core with great care, making sure that most who approach do not come in, and that those who do come in do not survive the entrance. But I sense your soul, and I sense your heart, and I know that you have benevolent intentions. I have chosen you and you alone to give my power so that you may stand a chance of defeating the great evil.”

  “My brother. Typhos.”

  A pause came.

  “Yes. I am the source of the greatest white magic. I can counteract the black magic which your brother absorbed, and you can end the suffering he has brought. I can give you the greatest white magic in the universe.”

  15

  Even though Celeste knew why she had come and she knew what would happen, she still felt tremendous awe. The entire planet, granting me its power. The entire world is speaking to me. The greatest known magic in the universe…

  “Typhos destroyed one of my fellow celestial beings. I know you were there to witness that fateful day when Nubia fell. Nubia cried out to Tapuya and me to grant you our powers if you made it in time. Your brother did not just absorb the entire planet’s power. He destroyed it. The amount of energy he absorbed nearly killed him, and even though it did not, it has left him incapacitated. Observe.”

  An image appeared before Celeste. On it, she saw Typhos squirming in agony on the peak of Anatolus. He lost control of his power, and his magic brought about terrifying destruction to Anatolus, destroying much of the forest and the wildlife on the continent.

  Time shifted forward to what looked like the present day. Typhos struggled to rise, falling to his knees as he attempted to walk.

  “Though he has gained significant black magical powers, he is physically weakened and will remain this way for at least several more days.”

  “Will I be as physically incapacitated if I take your magic?”

  “You will suffer some. But if you do not destroy me, your recovery time will be much faster.”

  The image disappeared, and Celeste nodded. In that weakened state, he looked like he needed help as much as ever. Celeste knew his greatest battle came not with his body but with his mind, but if she got the chance to see him soon…

  “I must warn you before you take my power, however, that the amount of magic you absorb will be intense and extreme. You will feel physically sick, and only able to cast magic in that time. You will be useless with a sword. Additionally, many Kastori who gained too much power too quickly went mad. The odds that Typhos has become even more warped after the destruction of Nubia are high. I cannot guarantee you will not meet the same fate.”

  “I know. But I know what my goals are. Those will not change.”

  “I must still warn you all the same. With that in mind, do you wish to have the ultimate power of mine? The white magic which can heal anything, and do just about anything except bringing the dead back to life?”

  Celeste paused to consider her options. If it was indeed too much magic, she didn’t think she would become evil and belligerent. But she did fear becoming useless in the fight for Typhos, leaving it up to the society of Monda, Crystil, and Cyrus—sides which had already shown they could not defeat Typhos.

  She saw no choice.

  “I am ready. I wish to have your power.”

  “Good.”

  Suddenly, a crisp cold air rushed past Celeste, but unlike most winds, this one felt sharp, like a sword of wind rushing into her. It did not feel painful, but it brought back the memories of staring at Typhos’ blade as it pierced her chest. Then the surge of energy rushed into Celeste, bringing her to her knees and then her back as her body shook. The energy she received crushed what she had felt after taking the power of Calypsius. This threatened to make her lose consciousness, so great was the energy and pain.

  “Stay strong, Celeste. It is going to get worse. You must stay strong.”

  Celeste screamed as her legs kicked and her arms flailed, the magic in her overpowering. She caught glimpses of what she could soon do—the ability to heal wounds on the spot; the ability to erect a barrier that deflected all magic without a weapon; the ability to enhance a person’s magical and physical abilities; and, perhaps most importantly, the ability to use healing magic as a weapon, to purge the cancer of evil inside the enemies.

  Such magic seemed impossible to her even an hour ago, but now that she saw it, she began to see it as the perfect compliment to the power Typhos had absorbed. She could fight back against just about anything he threw her way, and she felt the power to fight enemies far bigger and stronger than her. She could not just defeat Typhos, she could do what she had always hoped was possible—save him from himself and turn him into an agent for peace.

  She screamed as another surge of energy came in.

  “The greatest of my power is coming through to you, Celeste. It is my strength. You must not surrender to the pain.”

  Suddenly, Celeste saw the ability to reverse the aging process—the ability for a person to heal oneself by going back to the point where they were stronger. It hit a point—once the person reached their strongest time, they could not go any further—but it worked, and it worked for a significant period of time. The regeneration ability, to go beyond just healing wounds, but making a healthy body more powerful, would surely prove critical in battle.

  The surge of energy that came from that spell was so great and powerful that she briefly felt herself losing consciousness, going blind, deaf and weak to the touch all at once. But then the pain was over, and Celeste regained her senses.

  She laid on her back, looking up a
t the ceiling, panting. She was exhausted, and when she tried to move, she felt so weakened that she had to lean against the wall to remain upright. Though learning the magic had greatly increased her power, at the moment, the exertion to take on the new magic had essentially crippled her.

  “It is done,” Vostoka said. “You have the greatest known power of healing in the universe. Understand, this is just the current known peak of powers. You may yet unlock greater magic. You are young, you have strong ideals, and you have great determination. But for right now, know that no one has the magical skills that you have.”

  Celeste slowly pushed off the wall, walking with legs that trembled but did not falter. I am as close to the savior as there is. I can save people far longer than they ever should live. I can save…

  I can save Typhos.

  I have that power.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice weakened but sturdy. “But will you die?”

  “No. My rotation will lengthen, and my power will not be as intense. The cold will not be as extreme, and the winds will not blow as they once did. But I will survive. Now, go. Cyrus is waiting for you.”

  She felt the planet teleporting her. She closed her eyes, focusing on maintaining an upright position. Then she felt the new air around her. The air had indeed warmed, though the planet still remained cold. She opened her eyes and saw Cyrus standing about ten feet from her.

  “Celeste,” he said, in awe.

  “I did it,” she said.

  Her vision faded, and she collapsed to the ground.

  16

  “Celeste!” Cyrus cried as he sprinted toward his sister, sliding in the snow as he fell to his knees in front of her. “Hey! Hey! Come on!”

  “Easy,” she said, her voice weak but alert.

  “Oh, whew, I was actually panicking there for a moment,” Cyrus said with a laugh that masked his fear.

  He grabbed her arm and lifted her up. Unable to stand on her own, she swung her right arm around Cyrus’ shoulders, who took a deep breath and dragged her forward. Whatever she did, it worked.