Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4)

by Stephen Allan

  “Die,” he said as he stared at the creature taking its last breaths.

  He slowly stood, the acid’s remnants still searing away at him. He looked ahead and heard the clang of swords. No time to wallow in your pain. Ignore it. Go. Fight. Help Celeste. Win the war right now.

  He sprinted ahead with the sword held in his right hand toward the pit. The sound of steel colliding with steel echoed and became an unending grating sound to his ears. The world around him became a blur as the only clear thing he saw was the pit down below. He didn’t have a strategy other than attack Typhos and defend Celeste. However that played out—and whatever that cost him—he would accept.

  About fifty feet out, the pain from the acid became nearly crippling. Realizing it was sinking into his bloodstream as a poison, he quickly ripped his shirt off and wrapped it around his shoulder, acting as a tourniquet to protect his arm. Just keep going. You can still use it. Celeste doesn’t need long.

  He came to the edge of the pit and didn’t stop. He jumped forward, the bottom of the pit several feet below him, his sword raised, and his eyes on one target.

  The back of Typhos.

  32

  To Celeste’s surprise, Typhos, even with his sword brandished in an aggressive position, did not advance. Celeste could sense a great deal of confusion and anger in him, the emotions battling inside Typhos’ head to decide his course of action.

  She kept silent, fearful that her words would cause him to fight. She watched as he twitched with anger, then held back.

  “What is wrong with me?!?” he cried out, frustrated.

  Celeste again bit her lip to prevent something accidentally inflammatory from being said.

  “Tell me, Celeste! What is it?!?”

  Finally, with him directing his question at her, Celeste felt she could respond.

  “You said it yourself, Typhos. You yearned for me when you first came to Monda. Our conversation reminded you of that. You fight the feeling of that.”

  He grunted but took no action.

  “Monda… where my mother went… where I learned of Cyrus… what started it all.”

  It’s coming. He’s going to attack.

  “If you knew what kind of power I had, Celeste, you would surrender now and let me have the planet. I would let you teleport back to Monda so that you would have a few last days with your family. This power is not just magical. It is power fueled by anger. Anger can blind a man past his limits, causing him to push further than he ever had before.”

  Though his voice sounded calm, Celeste knew the rage in him was reaching the breaking point.

  “You say you are willing to kill me,” he said, and his voice nearly became a huff. “Then you will have to do what all others have failed to do! You are the daughter of Aida, the closest thing to her, and you will die for it!”

  Celeste gulped.

  “Brat!” he yelled, and he charged her.

  He swung his sword down on top of Celeste, but Celeste remembered how he had fought on Monda and his stylistic preferences. She managed to deflect and parry most of his attacks, though even at moments when she could have counterattacked, she did not go for the killing blow. She swung at his arms and drew blood, but avoided going for the finishing strike. I say I will kill him, but that is only after giving him the chance to repent.

  Typhos surprised her after another vertical swing, though, when he raised his foot and kicked her down. She rolled to the side just as his blade chopped at the spot she had been half a second ago.

  She quickly rose as her sword blocked and grinded on his, the two blades coming to a standstill as she got to her feet.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way, Typhos!” she yelled, though she knew that he had become too bloodthirsty to be reasoned with. “Neither of us have to take the planet. We can leave it as is!”

  “And let you be my equal?” he shouted.

  He tried to overwhelm her by leaning into her, but Celeste used his force against him and tripped him to the ground. He laid on the dirt vulnerable, so easy to kill all Celeste had to do was plunge her sword through him. But she instead pressed her foot on his back, holding him in place.

  “Stop it now, Typhos!” she said. “End this madness!”

  But with surprising force, he rolled her off, and she stumbled back. He rose to his feet, his sword down. Celeste mirrored his posture. Sensing a calming of his anger, Celeste took the opportunity to continue speaking.

  “Why do you think that creating chaos and havoc will bring peace to your mind? It will not. The more destruction you bring to the outside world, the more destruction you bring to yourself. Yes, some of that destruction with your family you could do nothing about. But you’ve been this way for nearly twenty years, Typhos. Twenty years of annihilation and mayhem have warped your mind.”

  He breathed softly and approached slowly, his sword still down.

  “Give it up, Typhos. Teleport to Anatolus, and I will not take this planet. We can leave it as is—a beautiful world, full of beautiful life, to be untouched even with the resources it has.”

  “Give it up,” he said with a snort.

  He paused about five feet from Celeste, within striking range.

  He’s…

  Trap.

  He swung his blade suddenly, and Celeste jumped back, feeling the air of the swipe but fortunately not the blade itself.

  “You are unwise to lower your defenses!” he shouted. “Only a fool does not defend themselves when their enemy is that close.”

  “You are not my enemy, Typhos,” Celeste said. “You are my brother. You may be a brother I have only known about for a few weeks, and you may be a brother whom I and my world have fought for years, but you are still my brother.”

  “Enough!” he yelled as he chopped forward, this time choosing speed over force. Celeste managed to keep up with his attacks, but she grew tired. The two circled each other and Celeste backed up toward the entrance to the core. She quickly gained the higher ground at the stairs to the platform, but desperately needed help with Typhos’ increased slices.

  “You would be foolish to descend to the core now, Celeste,” he said, treating her name as a sneer during a pause in the fight. “I do not have the same sympathy for your brother as I do for you. If you go down there, I will hunt him down and kill him. Assuming my latest creation hasn’t done that for me already.”

  Cyrus. He’s still alive. In fact…

  “You make the assumption that he would not fight back and possibly even win,” Celeste said. “I know my brother. He is even greater with the sword than I. He may not be as powerful with magic, but he does not need to fight you for an hour. He needs to fight you long enough to let me get the magic.”

  “And you make the assumption that I will let you get the magic.”

  “I know you won’t kill me to get it.”

  Celeste regretted the statement, fearing that it would make Typhos blind with rage, but it ultimately produced the desired effect. He seemed unsure what to do. Typhos raised his sword but did not swing it down.

  Behind him, Celeste saw in her periphery Cyrus jumping down. She didn’t dare turn her eyes up, but she did prepare to heal Cyrus from the fall.

  “Enough mind games,” Typhos said, but before he could bring his sword down, Cyrus collided with him. Both men fell to the ground in sheer agony. Celeste quickly healed a broken wrist from Cyrus and a painful knee and brought him to his feet.

  “You need to run down and get the planet’s magic,” Cyrus said. “Go. I’ll hold him off.”

  Typhos groaned to the side, but Celeste could sense him healing himself. He would be back at full strength relatively quickly. And worse… I don’t know if he can actually win that fight. Cyrus isn’t ready for Typhos. I’m not ready for Typhos, not without this planet.

  “No, Cyrus, come with me,” she said pleadingly. “Come down with me to the core. We’ll take its magic and then leave.”

  “Celeste,” Cyrus said reassuringly. “It won’t wo
rk that way. The platform will only descend for you. OK?”

  Celeste begged Cyrus, her eyes nearly coming to tears as the feeling in her gut intensified. But then he hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said. “I don’t have to win. I just have to not lose.”

  Celeste bit her lip.

  “Go!”

  Without thinking, she quickly got to the platform. She saw the symbol for magic light up and felt a slight lurch.

  “I love you!” she yelled to Cyrus.

  He turned and winked at her.

  The last thing she saw was her two brothers positioning themselves for battle, each with a long sword in their hand. And she knew that with their personalities, unless she absorbed the power of the planet quickly, one would die.

  33

  Celeste’s stomach lurched as the platform plummeted toward the core of the planet. But her stomach did not revolt against the feeling of free fall so much as it did against leaving her brother by himself against Typhos. She hadn’t even processed the tourniquet around his arm until the platform had already begun its descent, placing him in an even weaker position than normal.

  The platform slowed, and Celeste looked over the edge. She saw an open green room with the symbol of magic in the center, much as it had with Vostoka, except it glowed a bright, light red. She felt tempted to jump the platform, but instead anxiously waited for it to finish, fearing Tapuya would not accept her if she hastened the process.

  The platform came to a stop, and she rushed forward, practically sliding on her knees to the symbol. She bowed her head, anxiety coursing through her, her body shaking.

  “Are you nervous, Celeste?” the voice said.

  It sounded like an old elder’s voice.

  “Yes,” she communicated. “My brother fights above, and I fear for his life. He is fighting my other brother, Typhos, whom—”

  “I know the mortal danger Typhos presents,” the planet said, its voice calming and steady. “The loss of Nubia, Kastori, humans, and others shows the power that he has. But you have shown that he can be changed. You have pushed him to the brink, and though that makes him more dangerous, it also makes him more likely to be defeated.”

  “I know,” Celeste said with surprising confidence.

  She felt torn between telling the planet to hurry and letting it take its time. She didn’t even know if, upon taking the planet, she could provide much help to Cyrus, but she could at least get him off Tapuya.

  “I sense your concern, Celeste. I will not keep you waiting much longer, but I must warn you of what is to come. If Cyrus does not defeat Typhos, it is likely that Typhos will destroy this world in a rage. You can absorb most of my power, but even without taking my power, he has the ability to destroy me. If this happens, I will teleport you both back to Monda with what strength I have left. He will return to Anatolus and take as much power as he can and send an army of monsters toward Monda. You alone will have to face him.”

  “But Cyrus—”

  “Your brother does not have the strength to defeat Typhos.”

  The words sent chills through Celeste, who looked back at the platform. You don’t have to win, Cyrus. You just have to hold him off. Remember that. Please.

  “When you go to meet Typhos, you will not just walk up and battle him. Because of your words, he will put off the fight with you as long as he can. He will put you through a series of trials to try and defeat you and keep you at bay. What those trials are, I cannot say. Should you overcome those trials, he will attempt to destroy your mind with a void unlike anything that you have ever seen. Should you get past that…”

  Celeste could no longer wait.

  “What will happen?” she said impatiently.

  “You will face Typhos. But there is the question of what form of Typhos you will face. Typhos himself is a Kastori and will forever be a Kastori. But he may recreate himself in the image of a monster or something far worse. He will push off having to fight you in his Kastori form until the very end. You must be prepared to fight these forms to the death. You can save Typhos, the man. You can save Typhos, the brother. But you cannot save Typhos, the monster. He will take such forms, and you cannot reason with that. You must be prepared to do battle against such monstrous forms, such trials, and understand many of them are tests.”

  Celeste shuddered at the thoughts that crossed her mind. In just a few months, she’d fought a dragon-like beast, four-armed warriors with the dragon’s face, a giant aviant, and a slithering serpent with the dragon’s face. She imagined combining Typhos with those monstrosities, and the images terrorized her.

  But it also emboldened her to accept that she would have to fight those things to reach his true form.

  “I understand. I will fight all of Typhos’ magic and creations in the hope that I get a chance to save the man himself. And if I cannot, then I accept his death.”

  Now, please. My brother is in trouble.

  “Then I wish you the best of luck. I shall give you my power. This planet will stop growing vegetation, and will die. But it is in the nature of everything to perish over time. Death comes to all of us, including us planets. Mine is sure to come at the hands of Typhos if you do not kill him here. Death comes for you too, Celeste. Including your brother and your half-brother. No matter what, understand that. Fight for what you believe in, but be accepting that the end will come for all of us.”

  Celeste closed her eyes and felt a cold breeze brush over her face. Anxiety still ran through her as the jolt of energy struck her. She screamed as what felt like hot lava coursed through her body, starting in her shoulders and spreading out from there. She fell to her knees and placed her hands on the ground, but refused to fall to the ground entirely. Stay strong. You must return to Cyrus. Her mind rushed with the power she had—she could move entire forests with her mind, entire buildings. She could see the world through the eyes of anyone and read their thoughts, no matter how great a distance they were. She could create creatures purely from her own mind. She could teleport instantly across the universe, to lands she could only imagine.

  Get up, Celeste. Rise.

  Slowly, as the hot feeling dissipated, she rose. Her legs were weak. But she grabbed her sword and held it up, ready to fight.

  “It is finished,” Tapuya said, its voice much weaker. “You have obtained two of the most powerful concentrations of magic in the universe, in the form of red and white magic. With these powers at your disposal, you can defeat Typhos. What you do with him once it is done is up to you, but Celeste, you must be prepared to kill him if necessary. Good luck.”

  She staggered over to the platform and collapsed to one knee as it rose in through the planet. She sensed for Cyrus.

  He’s still alive.

  But no time to waste. No time to recover. You have to get him out of there.

  34

  “Hahahahaha.”

  Typhos’ laugh seemed to echo through the pit as he stared at Cyrus. Cyrus felt his arm weakening, but he would not run. Don’t leave. You cannot leave until Celeste grabs you. She can teleport you. She will decide when the battle ends. He stared at the man Celeste called his brother and saw nothing about him that resembled a sibling.

  “You have quite the sister, leaving you here for your death,” he said.

  “You make some weird assumptions, Typhos,” Cyrus sneered. “It is not I who will die here, it is you. And my sister did not leave me. That is why she is family. Because she doesn’t kill those who are blood. She helps them. Maybe you wouldn’t be this way if you didn’t try and kill her!”

  “Enough!” Typhos snarled as he raised his sword and charged.

  Cyrus, with his sword skills, deftly deflected most of the attacks that Typhos delivered. He started with a horizontal swipe that Cyrus easily blocked. Cyrus tried to counter by swinging Typhos’ sword down and bringing his own up, but the evil one reacted by using his magic to push Cyrus back on the ground. Cyrus quickly rose before Typhos could
even take another step forward.

  “I admire your guts,” Typhos said. “Most of your kind simply trembled as I killed them.”

  “Most of my kind don’t have the power that my sister and I do,” he said, and he waved Typhos over—away from the place where Celeste would return.

  Typhos charged again, bringing his sword over his head and down on Cyrus. It came with surprising force, and with Cyrus’ weakened arm, he did not stop the attack entirely. Their blades collided, and Typhos pressed down, his sword reaching closer and closer to Cyrus’ skin. Soon, his blade had reached Cyrus’ shoulder, where it dug in.

  “Know that the pain you feel is only a fraction of what I have experienced in my lifetime,” Typhos growled. “No matter how long I torture you, no matter how much I drag your death out, you will not suffer as much as I have. And that drives me mad. It makes me even more deter—”

  Cyrus ended his talk by driving his knee into Typhos’ gut, causing him to bend over in pain. Cyrus delivered a swift uppercut, still holding his sword, to Typhos’ mask, knocking him to the ground. Cyrus raised his sword and drove it toward Typhos, but the evil one again used magic and shoved Cyrus back. Typhos rose, his mask dislodged. He raised it off and spit blood on the ground before placing it back on his face.

  “I have had enough of your pathetic attempts,” he said.

  “You call getting bloodied from an uppercut pathetic? You have a high bar of pain. I would like—”

  “Silence!” Typhos raged as he charged at Cyrus.

  Cyrus held his sword up and deflected Typhos, but Typhos chopped vertically repeatedly, trying to break down the defenses of Cyrus. Cyrus held his blade aloft, but every attack seemed to burn a new fiber in Cyrus’ shoulder as his arms grew weaker.

  “Die! Die! Die!” Typhos roared.

  Cyrus crouched down, reduced to dropping to one knee to deflect Typhos’ blows. He felt his arm collapse and his body open up. He backed up on his butt and avoided getting hit on the head or the chest, but Typhos’ sword sliced his left thigh. Cyrus groaned in severe pain as he backed up. Typhos stood over him, wiping the blood from his leg on his robes.