She saw hundreds of humans and a couple dozen Kastori in front of her. The Emperor was among them. Garrus was also among them. She gulped as she prepared to give possibly the last great speech of her life.
“Everyone, this is what we worked for. What we spent countless hours ignoring hunger, thirst, and sleep for. Typhos has just sent an army of monsters to this planet, in front of the palace, and the beasts will reach this warehouse in a matter of minutes. I cannot promise you what you will encounter. Typhos creates wicked creatures, but he has yet to create anything that cannot be destroyed.”
As she spoke, she looked into the eyes of individual men and Kastori. Though many displayed nerves and fear, no one seemed so scared that they would run. When she saw the eyes of Hanna, she saw someone fiercely determined to make up for past mistakes. Garrus looked ready to bring vengeance after his capture.
And Emperor Orthran looked like he had waited far too long for such a moment.
“The past couple of weeks have shown us what we are capable of. Together, we fight a common enemy. Together, we will rise. And together, we will defeat this enemy and defend our home!”
The crowd roared its approval, fists in the air and shouts of aggression coming from all over. Crystil motioned for the crowd to silence.
“Cyrus Orthran, son of Emperor Orthran, is lining up weapons for our ground troops to carry into the field now. Garrus and I will lead a squadron of six fighters into the air. I need the four greatest pilots to join us—if you have doubts about your skills, do not come. We cannot afford to lose any ships. If you believe you are one of those, come with me. If you are not, go to the front and meet Cyrus. He will give you your weapon. If it doesn’t look like a human or a Kastori, you shoot it. Are we clear?”
The crowd shouted in approval and understanding.
“Go! Save Monda!”
Crystil jumped down from the container as all but five of the humans ran to the weapons. Garrus met her, as did three older soldiers. She didn’t recognize them, but the complete confidence their expressions gave assured her.
Then she looked in shock at the last remaining human.
“Emperor Orthran?”
“I was trained long before you were born, Crystil,” he said. “I will not be denied the chance to fly.”
Good enough.
“Let’s go!”
Everywhere in the warehouse, chaos broke out. Men and Kastori ran to the entrance, the sounds of the monsters getting louder and louder. The six pilots ran to the back as Crystil pressed the code to open the hangar which held the ships. Comparatively speaking, it looked far too empty—they had hoped they would have enough time to build at least thirty ships, if not more. We make do with what we have.
She sprinted to her ship, the Phoenix, and cursed herself out when she got in. They had designed the ships to be like the old ones, but they hadn’t tested them in flight at all. Their battle could end in the hangar, never rising higher than a few feet.
But when she ignited the engines and felt the ships lifting, she felt relief. Her shoulders dropped, and her breathing reached a normal level. She looked to her left and saw the Emperor in the Bennu ship, and Garrus in the Garuda ship. Each handled their ships with complete confidence, and Crystil smiled.
“Can everyone hear me?” she said, using the magically enhanced communication system that didn’t need a channel.
“Loud and clear, Commander,” the Emperor said, so clearly it was as if he was right in front of her.
“Good. Lift up and follow my lead.”
Crystil ascended slowly, weary of something in the night sky attacking them out of the blue. But her radar and displays only showed a multitude of monsters on the ground in front of her, not in the sky. She had over five thousand bullets and eight missiles, and she could choose what endowment the weapons received at a given moment. This is the kind of magic I can work with, she thought as she turned her fighter toward the front of the warehouse.
The six ships took a reconnaissance swing first. Crystil saw the four-armed monsters which Cyrus and Celeste had managed to defeat on their first Monda battle.
“Those things won’t go airborne,” she spoke. “Let’s take a pass and—”
But a loud shriek followed by a thud against her plane violently shook her and the Phoenix. She examined her display again and saw about two dozen massive aviants swooping through the sky, their talons extended.
“Evade! Evade!” she cried.
All of the ships successfully dodged the exceptionally large creatures, but then the aviants went past them and began picking up humans. Crystil cursed as she saw them dropping them from heights impossible to survive.
“Everyone, focus your bullets on the aviants,” she said. “Communicate and attack. Garrus, lead a squadron. I’ll take two on my wings. Let’s knock these creatures from the sky.”
“Save our missiles, commander?” an unrecognized voice said.
“Affirmative, soldier. This is just the beginning.”
She gulped as she finished and she used her radar and skills as a pilot to take out the aviants. Though the creatures moved surprisingly quickly and she could not take them out in time to prevent more deaths, the creatures moved in predictable patterns. They would swoop, go around, and make another pass. Their circular motions when targeting anything—be it one of the six ships or one of the humans—made them easy pickings, and after just a couple of minutes, all of the aviants had fallen from the sky.
By Crystil’s count, ten humans and one Kastori had perished. Grim. But numbers we can handle.
“How is everyone’s ship?” she said.
“Holding strong.”
“Still good.”
“Like I picked her up today.”
Crystil smiled, but her expression returned to neutral when she turned her attention to the battle down below.
“OK guys, time to pick these things off,” she said. “Same thing as before. Save the missiles, use the bullets. Don’t shoot any humans or Kastori under any circumstances!”
The fighters roared to the side and approached from the right flank of the four-armed creatures. Crystil yanked on the trigger as the ships unleashed a torrential downpour of bullets of different elements. Crystil chose fire, the better so the damage would spread more quickly. A few of the enemies chucked their swords to the sky, but the fighters kept their distances and the swords never reached the ships.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Garrus roared.
“Victory!” one of the men said.
“Don’t,” Crystil sternly said. “This is just the start.”
Of what, I don’t know. But there’s no way this is all Typhos brought.
Many of the monsters remained, charging through the dead bodies and attacking the humans and Kastori, their swords deflecting the bullets. Cyrus stood at the bottom of the hill, safely beneath the downpour of gunfire, waiting for a chance to use his sword, but the humans kept the monsters at bay. Crystil saw him and gave a warm smile. She turned her attention back to the night sky as she prepared to make another pass.
And then she saw the worst thing she could have imagined.
Calypsius. But it wasn’t just Calypsius.
It was three of them.
40
Celeste warped to a world that she did not recognize.
Anatolus, once a beautiful world of natural colors—at least during the day—had suddenly turned into a dark, desolate wasteland. Storms thundered above, illuminating the peak where even without concentrating, she could see a strong concentration of magic. Everything else burned, was soaking wet, or destroyed. Typhos had not physically destroyed the world, but he had ruined it.
Briefly, while gazing upon Typhos’ resting spot and the location of her final battle, she considered calling back for Cyrus. Climbing the mountain herself would prove nearly impossible, and the challenges she would face were likely not designed to be tackled with just one person. But he would never give Typhos a chance. And Typhos woul
d never give him a chance. If we want as little death as possible, hopefully none, this is how it has to be done.
She took a deep breath, told herself she could do it, and began approaching the mountain. She reached the spot where the wild thicket of poisonous flowers had once stood, and saw instead petals drenched on the ground, their color removed. If thorns remained, she didn’t see them. The forest behind her looked more like a scattering of trees and destroyed roots than it did woods.
“Why?” she mumbled to herself, but she kept going.
She pushed past many of the familiar caves she knew, ones which led to nowhere but had probably served as a valuable hiding spot from Calypsius. She came to Mount Ardor itself and swallowed.
Then she heard the laugh of Typhos, but not in her head. Instead, it sounded as if his voice carried across the planet. It was audible even over the thunder that boomed across the plains.
“So your brother has left you to your own defenses, has he, Celeste?” Typhos said. “A pity. He knew that he could not defeat me, and rather than doing the honorable thing and defending his sister, he chose to remain in hiding on Monda. Surely, though, you know his fate will be the same as if he had come here.”
“I know that he knows what his limits are,” Celeste said in response, though she didn’t know why she was talking—it wasn’t like Typhos was anywhere close to her. “He knows that you are stronger and that if we defeated you, he would want to kill you. I can still help you, Typhos. It won’t be too late at any point.”
“Still?!?” he said in a growl, and suddenly, it looked as if the man himself was descending from the heavens. He landed behind her, a figure now nearly thirty feet tall, his face no longer a mask but instead a black hole of nothingness. He’s turned this entire planet into his void. He controls all the sensations here. “Still, you carry on this silly little game of thinking I need to be saved from something. You need to give it up, Celeste. One of us dies here, and that is final.”
Celeste gulped and sensed the being in front of her. It was just an illusion, one which could not physically harm her.
“You have done well to become nearly as powerful as I,” he said, but now, instead of his voice carrying across the globe, it seemed as if it was inches from her right ear. “It will make our final battle far more compelling. I have not had a fight this good since… no, I have never had a fight that will be this good. But I am not the man you encountered on Monda, nor am I the man you saw on Tapuya. I have thrown myself into my anger and have removed any of the confusing emotions. I will not spare you any moments.”
Then why do you continue to talk to me? Why not come down and just kill me? If you truly were over having this argument, you wouldn’t talk to me as you do.
“But before you come, you must first overcome some of the trials I have placed in front of you. Oh, do not worry, Celeste, these are trials which you should be able to easily handle. But these are merely trials to test your newfound magic so that I may have a sense of what powers you have obtained.”
She gulped and heard a quaking behind her. She turned away from the projection of Typhos and saw a flight of about fifty steps leading up to a cavern on the side of the mountain. Unlike the projection, these steps truly were there, and she could walk them without fear of stepping through them.
“Take your first challenge, Celeste.”
The image disappeared.
“Typhos!”
But she received no reply. Instead, the storm seemed to increase in ferocity, the rain pouring so hard it stung her and the lightning so bright it blinded her. Celeste quickly ran up the steps, the storm calming down as she ascended. Despite the words of her brother, she still clung to the hope that she could help him before it was too late. He says these trials are to see me, but he knows what kind of power I have. He’s not a fool. He just doesn’t want to fight me.
She approached the cave, took a breath, unsheathed her sword, and walked into the void awaiting her.
A bright light shined, and she found herself back on the plains of Anatolus—except here, the plains looked as they had when she first arrived. Green, luscious, and beautiful. She swung her eyes everywhere but saw nothing.
“The caves here usually show you what you fear the most,” Typhos said in her head, causing her to freeze in place. “But to start, we are instead going to show you what I hate the most. You are no longer going to fight what the planet would have you fight, but what I want you to fight.”
As if out of thin air, two figures in golden robes appeared. One was an older man, a bit gaunt, with blue eyes and gray hair. The other was a woman, very close to Celeste’s age, a beautiful woman with brown hair and blue eyes.
“Show me that you can kill my father and our mother and I will let you continue.”
It’s just a projection. You have a mission. Get to Typhos and help him.
Let nothing stop you. This is not your mother. This is an illusion.
Celeste held her blade out and waited for one of the fake Kastori to act. The male threw up his hands and shot electricity at Celeste, but she absorbed and repelled it back easily, knocking the man to the ground. She quickly cast a magic spell on herself that made her immune to magic and charged at the man. With one quick stab, she plunged her sword through his heart and turned to Aida.
Suddenly, she morphed before Celeste’s eyes, turning into the woman that she had known.
“I should have known you could kill an enemy you had no attachment to,” Typhos said with a snicker. “My father meant nothing to you. Just as well, since he means nothing to me.”
I know that’s not true.
“But let’s see how you do with your mother standing in front of you as you knew her.”
This is not your mother, Celeste. Your mother died for you.
“Don’t hurt me, Celeste,” Erda said, her voice exactly as Celeste had remembered it. “I sacrificed my life for you. I’ve been given a second chance.”
Celeste said nothing. That’s exactly why I know you are an illusion. Resurrection is impossible. She knew if she engaged in conversation with the illusion, she would get drawn into an emotional moment and her focus would fail her.
Instead, she charged the fake Erda, her sword held ready to swing. At the last second, Erda’s expression switched to one Celeste had never seen on her—hatred—and she cast a ferocious red magic spell. Celeste, who was expecting a black magic spell, was shoved backward a dozen feet. She crashed into the ground, her arms bruised but her body otherwise unhurt. She rose quickly, holding her sword out, and approached once more. This time, expecting anything, as soon as Erda raised her hand, Celeste countered with a freezing spell that locked Erda in place. She quickly plunged her sword into Erda’s heart, and the woman collapsed.
A blinding light appeared and took Celeste back out to where she had stood before climbing the stairs, which no longer appeared.
“You’ve changed, Celeste,” Typhos said, his voice once again roaring across the planet. “You used to be so kind, compassionate, and caring. Now you would murder your own mother without so much as a word. You are cold.”
“I know what is real and what is not, Typhos. I do not imagine false crimes and sins that they have committed. I do not hold them accountable for things out of their control, as you do. I can kill that which stands in my way and is not real.”
Typhos said nothing, though the storm began increasing in intensity. Suddenly, Celeste felt herself being lifted up thousands of feet at once, yanked by a force from the sky. She landed about a third of the way up the mountain, landing on a ledge that contained only another cave.
“You have shown that you will not simply bow to me in battle. I appreciate that you will not make this easy for me. But your trials are only beginning, girl. And they will not be as easy as two simple, pathetic Kastori. I will watch with eager anticipation as you take on your next fight.”
His laugh reverberated across the planet as Celeste turned to the dark cave. She inhaled slowly, brandished
her sword, and stepped in.
41
It was the same ugly, evil, yellow-eyed, horned wicked monster of her nightmares that Crystil now faced in the seat of her new fighter jet.
But everything else about the danger was different.
Her enemy had reinforcements, both on the ground and in the air. She immediately connected the color of their scales to the type of magic they had and knew that they had to go after the healing Calypsius first. They absolutely had to stay far away from the red Calypsius, which would use its magic and twist their ships into piles of crumpled metal. And they had far smaller ships than when she had first fought the beast on Anatolus.
But she, too, had advantages. Her ship was much faster and agiler, and she had more air support than before. She had lost Erda but made up for it with the magical properties of the ship.
“All fighters, follow my lead,” she said. “Stay far away from the red monster until advised otherwise. Its magic will likely destroy your ship if we are not careful. Instead, concentrate on destroying the wings of the white monster.”
The black Calypsius flew in her direction, and instinctively, Crystil unloaded a cascade of bullets at the beast just before swinging her ship up and over the monster.
But when she looked back, the monster didn’t approach her. In fact, it seemed entirely uninterested in her.
“Fighters, are any of the enemies following you?”
“Negative,” all of the fighters came back shortly after.
Puzzled, she swung around and began approaching the white Calypsius. But then the three dragons, who were flying in a V-formation similar to the one the fighters used, suddenly pulled up, flying straight into the air. They reached a few thousand feet when they stopped, their bodies vertical and their tails pointed to the ground as their wings flapped.
Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4) Page 17
