But he was not sure anymore of his role.
37
Three days passed. Celeste remained in her room frequently, trying to concentrate on reaching Typhos. But unlike before, when she’d had the good fortune to catch him leaving the dense magic on the peak of Mount Ardor, she did not get the chance to talk to him. Even with the most powerful red magic in her arsenal, she could not break through the barrier and reach her brother. He had, for better or worse, entrenched himself, making a conflict all but inevitable.
Even if I see him face to face, eventually, he’s going to put everything he can between me and him. He doesn’t want to face me, I know that. I just hope it’s because he’s scared I’ll get him to change without ever removing my sword.
What she could notice, however, was the intensity of the magic gathering at the peak of Mount Ardor. The levels of magic far surpassed the natural levels of the spot, so much so that the rest of the planet seemed to be suffering. The green vegetation became brown, and what trees remained were shedding their leaves rapidly. The waves churned violently, and storms came with more frequency as the planet devolved into chaos, its magic being dragged up by Typhos. Celeste shuddered to think of how much wildlife was perishing on that world because of her brother’s actions.
“Typhos,” she messaged him, refusing to give up that third night. “Typhos, please. Talk to me. Just talk.”
But not only did she get no answer, she could tell it wasn’t even reaching him. It wasn’t like he heard her and ignored her—it was like he never heard her.
She sighed and slowly rose out of her bedroom, climbing the stairs to the overlook point of the entire warehouse. She admired the six ships which were built, magnificent fighters that could handle just about any attack on the planet. She appreciated how well the Kastori and the humans had begun working together. Though she sensed some animosity from a couple of humans, it had decreased significantly over the days. In fact, a few of the Kastori and humans laughed and traded stories together. She could see Hanna telling a funny story to a young woman—of Crystil’s age, but not the commander herself—while Garrus encouraged a white-robed Kastori.
What would Typhos say if he saw this? Would Typhos even want to see this?
She heard footsteps coming from the stairs and glanced back. No one was at the door yet, so she turned her attention back to the warehouse. The footsteps reached up, and she glanced back at her brother, an unsettled look on his face.
“Do you still think you can save Typhos?” Cyrus asked, with such a tone that he genuinely sounded open to the possibility.
Even with the attack on Cyrus, the destruction of Tapuya, and the anger he had displayed on the vegetative planet, Celeste still believed. As long as Typhos would communicate with her when he saw her, she believed. She nodded but had concern for her brother’s body language.
“I want to believe you, Celeste. But in order for me to believe that, I need you to be accepting of something.”
He folded his arms and crossed his legs.
“If I go to Anatolus, I will only slow you down. To say I am not as proficient at magic as you would be like saying my ten-year-old self wasn’t as good at flying as Crystil is now. Furthermore, you have a way of calming and slowing down Typhos that not only do I not have, I seem to enrage him further. I don’t know.”
A wry grin came to his face.
“Boys just can’t get along. There can only be one of us.”
Celeste only managed a short snort of a laugh. She walked closer to him and took a seat at a table opposite him.
“I need to know if you are OK with this. If you want me to come with you, I will do so, and I will give my life for you. But Crystil reminded me of something. A soldier has to know their limitations and their usefulness. I have Kastori blood in me, but from the day I was born, I was raised to be the eventual Emperor of humanity. Magic, for me, is a token, a gift from Erda, but not a talent. My people are the humans, not the Kastori. If I go to Anatolus, we will go at my pace not because I want to, but because you won’t leave me behind—something that I both appreciate and am driven crazy by. But it is your call. You lead us. You are in charge.”
Celeste nodded and thought about it.
“What do you want to do?” she asked Cyrus.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t want to die,” he said with a warm smile. “Crystil and I… you know how that is. I like life, even if we’ve been fighting for the past seven months seemingly nonstop. I see a great future if we can win this thing. I also realize that I’m a liability, but I also hate excusing myself from the most dangerous part of the mission.”
“I wouldn’t assume that,” Celeste said. “Typhos has always wanted to destroy this world, and fighting one person isn’t going to stop him from sending his monsters this way.”
“I know, and for a battle like that, I won’t run,” Cyrus said. “Mostly because Crystil would punch me all over again if I ran.”
“I think you answered that yourself then, Cyrus,” Celeste said. “Your job is to restore peace and humanity on Monda to what they once were. My job is to restore the Kastori—and if I can, Typhos—to what they once were.”
Cyrus grinned, belying the relief that he felt. The two heard more footsteps coming up and suspected Crystil.
“Hey pretty lady,” Cyrus shouted. “What have you come up for? Some sweet Cyrus time?”
Celeste burst out laughing when their father came into view.
“I don’t even want to know,” the Emperor said, causing Cyrus to blush as deep a red as Celeste had ever seen. “I just saw you two talking up here and wanted to see what’s going on.”
“Cyrus is learning to be humble, Dad,” Celeste said, inviting him to sit. “I never thought the day would come when he’d accept it, but—”
“Hey, in my defense, I have learned to accept it, I just haven’t learned to be open about it. I accepted my role when we rescued your sorry butt.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Celeste said sarcastically.
“I’m glad to see my children arguing once more,” the Emperor said with a warm smile. “It brings me back to the days of old.”
“The days before war broke out.”
Her Dad shook his head.
“Unfortunately, war has been a constant in your life, Celeste. But early on, we managed. We lived. We did a good job of setting boundaries.”
“That’s all on Cyrus,” Celeste said. “I heard it. I could never escape wondering what was going on. But Cyrus seemed to carry on his normal ways.”
“Coping mechanism,” Cyrus said quickly. “Greatest coping mechanism anyone can ever develop is to pretend a problem doesn’t exist. It almost led me to joining you and dying in the process!”
All three laughed, a rare moment of unity together for the Orthrans.
“No, we’re just…” Cyrus said, struggling to finish. Celeste flashed him an encouraging smile, and he sighed. “I’m going to help lead the forces here. I asked Celeste if it was OK if she went by herself because that seems to be the most logical solution if we want to save Typhos or just plain old beat him down. I’m not strong enough, so…”
The Emperor smiled and nodded.
“I’m nervous about you going alone, Celeste, I really am. I already almost lost you once, and I’m not ready to think about losing you in any capacity. But you both are adults now. If you believe this is the right approach, then it’s time for you to act on that.”
Celeste smiled.
“It is,” she said. “I wouldn’t quite put myself up there yet.”
“In age, perhaps not,” her father said. “But in experiences, and in moments to force you to grow? Yes, you very much are. The fact that you tell Crystil what to do, and that she listens to you without hesitation, to me, it says it all.”
Celeste cooed and stood up to hug her father. The emotions that she felt she had lost when she came back from Tapuya came back, though she managed to avoid crying.
“I must get going back to the warehouse
,” the Emperor said. “We have little time, and every ship we make is precious. But I haven’t talked to you since your return, and though I may be an Emperor and part of humanity’s rebuilding effort, I am still your father.”
With that, he gently kissed Celeste on top of her forehead and did the same for Cyrus. He departed, leaving the two siblings to themselves.
“So, shall we build jets?” Celeste asked, feeling compelled to do something.
Cyrus nodded with a wide grin.
“To restore the Orthranian Empire.”
“To restore peace.”
But just before she got to the stairs, Celeste heard a voice, a familiar, haunting, taunting voice, that announced something terrible was about to begin.
“Celeste.”
38
A hundred thousand feet in the sky, with massive storms raging across the planet, the seas tumultuously cascading into the land, and nearly all life annihilated, Typhos concentrated all of the planet’s power at the peak. He used such power to prepare for an unleashing of a monstrous army upon Monda to finally bring about the planet’s destruction. He had waited long enough to recover to full strength, and the three most powerful planets had, in one way or another, had their power taken. No one would wait any longer, and all parties had settled into their positions.
Within the sphere of energy, Typhos created the monsters of his past in the form of an army. He started with the Caliphae, creating dozens of them, so many that they lined the stairs leading up to the peak of Mount Ardor. Their four arms each came with a sword, and each sword came equipped with a magical elemental endowment of either fire, ice, water, or electricity. The creatures sneered and cried as they strained to free themselves from the power of Typhos, desperate to slaughter and spill blood. But unlike most of his previous creations, which acted independently, these fell to the orders of Typhos. The man responsible for the death of many of his own kind had gained enough power with the destruction of Tapuya to control his own creations.
After creating close to a hundred Caliphae, he created a dozen aviants like the one he had created on Vostoka. He anticipated such creatures bringing humans to the space they had so tried to crawl to, only to be dropped hundreds of thousands of feet to a death that would take a tortuously long time to get to. The aviants, unlike last time, had longer legs leading down to their talons, making it impossible for a human to reach up and remove their wings.
Then he created the monsters which he had formed on Tapuya. Such serpents would strike at the heels of humans and traitorous Kastori alike, bringing them to their knees before the monsters would strike their necks. The creatures hissed and crawled among the Caliphae, and too, were eager for blood.
He summoned more magic and created three of his favorite monster.
In the darkness of the sky, with the storms blocking his view, he only saw them rising up and circling the platform in flashes. But he could see their yellow eyes, hear their massive wings beating in the air and their cries echoing across the planet, and sense their hunger. He saw one with black scales, so dark that it seemed to blend in with the night sky. He formed one with red scales, much like the blood of the enemies it would spill. He created one with pure white scales, the healer and supporter of the other two, ensuring that the three-monster army would never fall. The beasts flew and roared in unison.
Calypsius. You have returned. Together, you all will crush Monda.
But Typhos had not finished. He looked to the stars, and with a tremendous focusing of energy, created a monster so massive it could only float through the freedom that outer space provided. It featured a face like Calypsius, with a massive jaw, rows of fatally sharp incisors, horns on the top of its head, and sharp scales which could cut upon impact. But it differed from Calypsius in two different ways. One, it did not have wings, and instead slithered through space with its magic.
Two, it did not exist to destroy cities and civilizations. It existed to destroy entire planets. Its jaws and its massive size ensured that it could either burrow through a planet, eating it from one side to the other, or crushing it with its sheer size, coiling around and smashing it to smithereens. He called it Vritrus.
Typhos looked at his army, numbering by volume at just over a hundred monsters but easily powerful enough to take out hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of humans. And Typhos knew Monda did not have anywhere near that many soldiers—perhaps not even tens of thousands. He smiled as the creatures all looked to their ruler, the Calypsiuses circling the peak, Vritrus remaining stationary, seeming as close as the Calypsius monsters yet hundreds of times their size. The Caliphae bowed before him.
Typhos left the sphere of magic and stepped out to the platform.
“Celeste,” he communicated to her, speaking with a heavily ominous tone. “I have prepared my army. The end of Monda is at hand. I am recovered and ready to destroy humanity and Monda as I have so striven to do for twenty years. If you wish to stop me, come to Anatolus. I will be at the peak.”
Before she had a chance to respond, he went back inside the sphere of magic. He did not want some silly confusing emotions to stop him from finally accomplishing his mission.
Finally, he could get revenge on humanity for taking his mother away.
Finally, he could destroy the world his mother escaped to.
Finally, he would destroy the two siblings who reminded him of his father and mother.
Either they will die at the hands of my monsters or at my hand. No matter what, destruction reigns and I will achieve victory.
He looked to the monsters and used magic to amplify his voice.
“Creatures of my creation!” he bellowed, and they all gave roars of approval. I control everything. They worship me. They do not try and overthrow me as pathetic Gaius tried to. My only regret is not doing this earlier. “The pathetic world of Monda has tried to plan for our arrival. Their strongest soldiers acquire power to fight me, and they plan weapons of some kind to fight back for whatever I throw their way. What they do not know is that you are far beyond anything they have ever encountered. You are far more powerful than they are, and they will tremble before you.”
The creatures again raised their weapons or growled in praise of Typhos.
“It is time for us to end the pitiful existence of Monda and all who live on it. My Caliphae! My aviants! My serpents! Go! Destroy everything you see! If it lives, you must kill it. If it is built, you must destroy it!”
Typhos opened a portal which led to the outside of the palace, and the creatures swarmed to get in, knocking over each other in the process. A few of his Caliphae were even trampled, injured by swords. Typhos ignored it, for the smaller enemies served merely to distract humanity. If they won, he would be pleased, but he knew the Calypsiuses would end civilization.
And if somehow they pull off another miracle, nothing can stop Vritrus. The planet eater cannot be killed by mere humans.
Typhos looked at his unstoppable creatures of destruction and laughed maniacally, sure that nothing would stand between him and the eradication of Monda.
39
By the seventh ship, about halfway toward completion, Crystil worked with a Kastori as she held iron in place to meld to the ship. Her shoulders ached, but the return of Cyrus from just a couple of days ago had lifted her spirits. Her body had followed suit when she had gotten alone with him, though she had only had the opportunity to do so once since his return. She yearned for him again.
Not just for the physical release and rush that went through her. But for the emotional bond that she felt—one she hadn’t felt since Dyson had died. The moments with Cyrus never brought guilt to her, especially since she had managed to conquer Dyson in the cave. She knew he would want her to find someone else, and that just because she was falling for Cyrus didn’t mean she had forgotten or would ever forget the times she shared with her first husband. She couldn’t say she loved Cyrus as she loved Dyson, but she could say she cared for him and wanted the war to end so she could spen
d time with him.
To think, I once nearly knocked him out with a punch. Now we’re knocking each other out in a very different way.
She smiled to herself as she left the jet to grab another piece of iron. She bent down, lifted—
“Crystil!”
Celeste’s shout did not sound pained, but it sounded awfully concerned. Crystil immediately dropped the iron and sprinted in the direction of the shout—from the stairs to the overlooking room. She saw Celeste with a concerned but controlled expression, while Cyrus gulped.
“Typhos just talked to me,” she said. “The time has come. Whatever ships you have, get them in the air. Whatever guns and other equipment you have, give them to the humans. Get the Kastori ready. He’s sending a legion of monsters our way.”
Crystil didn’t need to look to Cyrus to confirm it, but he nodded nervously anyways.
“OK, you’re going to Anatolus?”
“Just I,” Celeste said. “I don’t have time.”
Crystil didn’t waste any, as she squeezed Celeste tightly in a short but meaningful hug.
“Come back alive and don’t risk yourself for him.”
Celeste knowingly nodded, and then sprinted out of the warehouse for teleportation. Cyrus locked eyes with her as soon as Celeste had left.
“Let me lead the ground forces. You handle the air. I know what to do.”
“Are you—”
“Since when would you ever doubt me?” Cyrus said with a wink.
Despite being on the verge of battle, Crystil had to smile and shake her head. She grabbed Cyrus and the two kissed, meant to be one last gentle kiss before bloodshed came.
But then she heard the sound of monstrous cries outside the warehouse—how far away, she couldn’t tell, but she knew they didn’t have much time—and she pulled away, her hand on his chest.
“Go,” she said. “I’ll see you on the ground.”
“Count on it,” he said, and the two split up.
Crystil ran toward the alarm system that they had set up in preparation for such a day. She felt nervous—six ships would not be enough for whatever Typhos threw their way. But she didn’t have time to regret that she only had maybe a couple of minutes of preparation before the monsters reached the warehouse. Instead, she sprinted on top of a container that held many materials which would now probably never get used and shouted for everyone to get in front of her.
Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4) Page 16
