“Do you realize the futility of your fight?!? You kill me and then what? You die in space. Even if you somehow escape here and go to Monda, Vritrus will destroy your planet. All paths end in death for you, Celeste. You are only making yourself more exhausted before I kill you. Stand down and take your death with honor!”
Celeste ignored him and cast a healing spell on herself. Though she had no wounds, the spell did give her full strength back.
“There is always a way out,” she shouted when fully healed. “If we don’t know it, we find it.”
“Shut up!” he yelled as he cast a massive lightning spell which blinded Celeste. But she had anticipated his casting a spell and “saw” it as a current of magic. She raised her blade up and rather than blocking it to the outreaches of space, she pressed it back to Typhos, who fell to the ground trembling and cursing.
“You’re not as powerful as you think, Typhos,” Celeste said, walking over to the fallen man. “You are relatively powerful to most Kastori, but you are not absolutely powerful. I can counter everything you do and then some. Perhaps it is you who is fighting a futile battle.”
But Typhos shoved her back just enough to give him the space he had before. He shook violently, and Celeste sensed a terrible energy coming from him.
“You do indeed have tremendous powers, Celeste, and I failed to properly account for them,” he said, his voice almost incomprehensible with anger. “But not all magic can be reflected. And not all magic can be survived.”
Celeste felt a tremendous rush of energy in the middle of the platform, an energy spike that felt…
Yes.
The same as the one that had destroyed Tapuya and Anatolus.
“Are you insane?!?” Celeste cried out. Such a spell is going to kill both of us!
But Typhos did not stop, and Celeste saw the pulse of energy increasing in intensity. A green orb grew slowly with energy coursing through it and shooting out, an unstable mass of magic. This is going to hurt.
In an attempt to protect herself, she cast multiple barrier spells around her, each one providing a different kind of protection—one physical, one magical, one which reflected magic and the other which absorbed magic. She hunkered down herself, closing her eyes and protecting herself with as much energy as she could muster. The ground groaned as the Ultimus spell became more and more dangerous. Her biggest fear was that Typhos wanted to destroy both of them in the process.
A crack came. A massive explosion sounded. Celeste threw herself to the ground.
A burning sensation came over Celeste as she rolled on the ground. She gritted her teeth as the pain became so great, it threatened to send her into shock. She consciously focused on staying alert and awake, refusing to give in to the pain that tried to take her away. Her hands clenched together, and her toes curled in. All of the muscles in her body tensed.
But then it ended and receded. She reached for her sword a couple of feet away and slowly rose. She realized in doing so that the platform had not been destroyed, though the barrier protecting them had suffered some damage. Typhos remained on one knee, gasping for breath.
“How,” he grunted, in obvious pain and exhaustion. “Tapuya and Anatolus did not survive my Ultimus attack. Yet a mere half-Kastori does? How?”
Celeste walked over, pain still shooting through her body. She became single-minded in what she had to do.
“This is impossible. I studied the magic. Nothing is greater than Ultimus. Ultimus destroys all. Yet your barriers allowed you to live.”
“It’s like I said, Typhos,” Celeste said as she stood over him, her blade brandished. “You are not as powerful as you think you are.”
She rammed her sword through his chest, drawing an audible gasp from him. She then pulled the blade out quickly, having no desire to inflict further torture upon her brother.
“And you are not indestructible.”
But you could have lived. You just couldn’t accept this fate.
She looked at him with sadness as he lay on the ground, blood seeping through his robes. Typhos’ breathing became heavy, and he wheezed. Celeste felt sad, the rough edges of her battle side fading as she realized she had just sentenced her brother to death.
“Typhos…” she said as she crouched down.
But then something disturbing happened.
His breathing and wheezing turned into an evil, low laugh. He rolled onto his back and grabbed his sword, holding it close to his chest.
“Typhos,” Celeste said, thinking he was losing his mind.
But then she looked at his feet and saw massive claws protruding from his boots. His mask shattered, replaced by an elongating snout. He rose as two tattered, red wings emerged from his back, like those of a bat. He discarded his robes, revealing a thick, tough, black hide. His sword turned into a dual weapon, able to be made either into a staff or broken apart into two swords.
Celeste looked up at the morphed monster. Typhos’ face looked like Calypsius’, save for a few distinct features. Instead of yellow, his eyes glowed red—or his one eye, his right eye, as his left eye did not open. A massive scar ran across his face, looking like burn marks that had never healed. His horns looked frayed and scared.
Typhos roared, a cry that sounded deeper and more evil than anything Celeste had ever heard.
“I am a god!” Typhos cried, his voice warped beyond recognition. “My magic has morphed my pathetic Kastori body into something far greater than you have ever encountered, pathetic human. I command the greatest body in the universe. Observe.”
In a display of shocking horror, he took his staff, disassembled it into the two swords, and cut one sword across his neck. No blood spilled and no cuts formed.
“I am impervious to your sword,” he said. “I am indestructible. You are hopeless and powerless before me. Your death shall be my pleasure, a moment which I will treasure forever!”
The demonic form of Typhos again laughed, brought his sword back into a staff, and slammed the ground. The very existence of reality seemed to shift, as the stars around them warped as if falling into a black hole. Typhos then raised his hand, and the two were back on Anatolus.
But Celeste recognized the scene immediately. It was the day that the Kastori outpost burned. Around her, fires danced on tents. Screams of the dying filled her ears. Smoke rose to the sky. And Typhos flapped his broken wings to the ground, laughing the whole way.
“It is the day that we met,” he said. “Do you remember that day, Celeste? It is a day I wish I had not shown you mercy. It is a day that I will now atone for here.”
He lifted his staff off the ground and pointed it to her.
“Die, human!”
51
Crystil let the cheerful conversation from Cyrus clear her mind for at least a couple of minutes. Even with the destroyer of worlds omnipresent in her view—and still growing, a fact made unbelievable by the fact that it looked like a normal sized creature from her viewpoint—she found a certain peace from Cyrus’ conversation that she indulged herself in. Maybe another miracle could come. Maybe they would find some incredible way to destroy this unbelievable beast before it was too late.
And if they didn’t?
We’ll find a way. We always do.
The soldier side of her told her the odds didn’t matter. Their survival percentages meant nothing. Only focusing on what they could control mattered. The only thing that mattered was finding a way to defeat the monster.
“So, Crystil, you and I need to discuss some things,” Cyrus said in a warm, cocky enough tone that Crystil just laughed.
“Go on,” she said.
“Well, we’ve been together now, what, a few days?”
Wow, not one to wait, huh? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
“I’m thinking when we get back, you and I have earned a long vacation somewhere. Somewhere a bit warmer than Vostoka, and a bit less elevation than Mount Ardor.”
“It’s nice to see your mind is where it should be,” Crystil
said teasingly.
“Hey, lovebirds, get a private channel,” Garrus said, followed by his usual guffaw.
“I’ll think about it, Cyrus. Pick someplace nice, and I might just—”
“I already did,” he said.
He’s really ahead of the game. This is a bit surprising.
“Are you going to tell me? Or do I just have to wait and be surprised?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. I’ll find the middle ground and say that I’m going to give you a hint. It’s full of flowers.”
Not the thicket on Anatolus. Too many bad memories.
No.
The Garden of Narshia?
He knows what that means… Unless…
“Sounds good,” Crystil said as she glanced at her dashboard. They now only had five minutes to go before they collided with the monster.
As they approached, Crystil saw some of the finer details of the great monster. When it opened its jaws, she could see that every single tooth looked like a sharp spike that could cut through the entirety of Monda like a hunting knife through melted butter. It had a long, forked tongue that it kept coiled inside—something that could cause trouble during the battle. It had scales similar to Calypsius, though much larger in scale. Spikes scaled along the back, making it dangerous to attack from the rear or up top. Spikes also extended from the side of its face. In short, though the monster did not appear to have the offensive capabilities like Calypsius when it came to fire, it had enough protection that it would make attacking it difficult before it got to Monda.
We can’t hit it from the outside. We could shoot the eyes? We could blast the underbelly until it gives and we have an opening like we do with Calypsius?
“What’s our strategy, Commander?” Garrus said, his usual jovial tone absent.
I…
“I don’t have one yet, Garrus,” Crystil said. “Looking at it and knowing what our missiles would do, I don’t think we can attack it head on. It’ll feel like blades of grass pricking us.”
“What about from down beneath?” Cyrus asked.
“Thought about that, I’m not convinced it’ll work. I only have two missiles left.”
“Same,” both men said at the same time.
“So we have to find a way to get straight to the heart and take it out. Assuming that is its weak point.”
“That’s been the case for everything Typhos has thrown our way,” Cyrus said just as the beast opened its mouth, letting out a cry that rattled Crystil’s ship.
But she got an idea when she saw the monster’s jaw widen. She saw past the teeth, past the tongue, and into a throat that contained nothing but pitch blackness. Their ships did have lights which would illuminate the area around them. She feared the number of things they’d have to dodge—its teeth, its tongue, acid, other dangers she could not foresee—but she had no other valid ideas.
“Guys, don’t think I’m crazy—”
“Too late,” Cyrus interjected.
“But I have an idea. It’s incredibly risky, but at this point, we either die doing it or watch Monda die. When the creature opens its mouth, we need to fly to the inside, travel in it, blast our way to the chest cavity, and attack the heart. It’s a little bit insane, yes, but unless anyone can think of something else, let me know.”
No one said anything for several seconds. They only had a little over two minutes before they would reach the creature, which by now was so massive it took up most of Crystil’s view.
The silence ended when Garrus gave his loud laugh.
“It may be risky, but our alternative is trying to take out a six-layered fighter jet with a rock in twenty minutes. It ain’t gonna happen! So I’m in!”
Cyrus gave a typical overexaggerated sigh.
“I never imagined when I signed up for this, I would be flying inside a giant monster’s throat and trying to destroy its heart because it would eat my world. But then again, I never imagined my long-lost brother would turn out to be the one who caused all of this, and that Celeste would somehow leapfrog me in terms of sibling power.”
Crystil couldn’t contain her laugh at that. She knew Cyrus would give him grief later but felt it was worth it.
“So, why not, this is like fifth on the list of unexpected adventures. Let’s do it.”
“That’s the spirit,” Crystil said. “Here’s the deal, then. When we get close enough, and that creature opens its jaws, we jam our engines like our lives depend on it—because they do. When you’re inside the mouth, watch for the tongue and any saliva dripping down. If we fly close to the teeth, I think we can dodge the tongue. The other stuff, though, you’ll just have to keep an eye out for. Make sure you don’t touch anything you don’t have to—I don’t want to be vomited back to Capitol City. Once we get into the throat, we’ll need to ballpark an area where we can use our bullets to get into the chest cavity. If we succeed at that, we find the big, throbbing heart and shoot all of our missiles at it. Use your ice endowment to slow it down. Understood?”
“Yes, Commander,” both Cyrus and Garrus said together.
“As soon as we shoot our missiles, unload all of the bullets you can on a single pass. After that pass, get out of here and go to Monda. There’s nothing left to do at that point.”
And hopefully, nothing else will be needed.
We save Monda here.
The monster reached them. Its jaws opened. Crystil saw on the display that it would be five seconds. Close enough.
I’m taking you up on the date, Cyrus. I’m making sure you hold up your promise one more time.
“Go!”
52
The ugly abomination that Celeste now faced—she refused to call it Typhos; he was a Kastori and her brother, not some monstrous hybrid with Calypsius—charged at her, swooping from about a dozen feet in the air with his staff. He came with frightening speed, made all the worst by a higher ground advantage and a more powerful sword. She deflected his charge but fell to the ground in the process, narrowly avoiding a second swipe.
The monster laughed, its voice barely reminiscent of Typhos’, as it swooped into the air and came down for a second attack. Celeste endowed her sword with a powerful electric spell and chopped at the charging monster, but the force with which it flew again tackled her to the ground. Her swing did push the monster off-course, allowing her a moment of breathing room, but it came to the ground a few feet from her, splitting its staff into two swords.
“You see now that you stand no chance against me,” he said. “Bow and I will make your death quick.”
Celeste grimaced and said nothing, believing that his lies would increase significantly in his new form. She instead cast a physical barrier spell on herself, one which would not prevent sword attacks but reduce their damage, as she positioned herself for another assault. The beast bellowed with a cry more similar to Calypsius than Typhos and charged.
Unlike the Caliphae, who could not wield a sword effectively, Typhos’ new form could, one sword playing off of the other. Celeste struggled to keep up as the blades seemed to come from angles she didn’t even think possible. One of the attacks sliced her shoulder, and she retreated quickly, grinding her teeth as she tried to recover while keeping her eye on the monster.
“It is useless,” Typhos said.
The beast charged, its sword having returned to a staff, and Celeste saw a chance. She struggled with fighting multiple swords at different angles, but she could handle one massively powerful sword from one angle. The beast swung, and Celeste blocked its attack, though she felt her arms vibrate and tense from the shock of the attack. Typhos brought his staff back and tried to shove it at her, but she ducked and lifted her body into the staff, knocking him backward for half a beat. Half a beat was all she needed, for she swung her sword with all of her might at its belly.
It felt like hitting the palace wall. Her sword bounced right off, and Typhos laughed.
“Did you not pay any attention to my demonstration before we began?” he snickered. “
You can’t hurt me. You are only delaying your death.”
But Celeste noticed something. One drop fell from his stomach and fell to the ground.
Blood.
Maybe he doesn’t feel pain. But I am damaging him. He’ll slow down eventually. Calypsius did when we attacked it. Gonna be the same here.
Typhos took to the air again and unleashed a series of magical spells on Celeste. Her white magic again reached a stalemate with his black magic, but this time, Typhos could leave the magic as it was and charge her. She didn’t notice this until the last second as she rolled to the side, dropping her barrier and allowing the flames he had cast to swarm in, barely missing her. She wasn’t in position to bring her sword up as Typhos swooped down and reflexively threw her hand up.
The red magic did just enough to push Typhos away as she again dodged the worst of his split staff, though one sword sliced her cheek and drew blood. It stung, but it was nothing close to a debilitating injury and Celeste did her best to ignore it.
“Look at this!” Typhos roared. “You can barely hold me off. You have done nothing to me. Yet, with all of your defensive power, I have still managed to draw blood twice. It would seem that if I am patient, I will win this battle.”
Celeste refused to engage. But in her head, she reminded herself she, too, had drawn blood. She, too, could win this battle.
No. I will. I will win.
“But I am not a patient person. Your life ends with a power that cannot be deflected, not in this form.”
Typhos went to the edge of the fire, which Celeste perceived as the edge of the platform, on the opposite side of Celeste. He closed his eyes, his wings folded in. Celeste saw a green orb of energy forming in the middle. She sensed that this was a much more powerful form of Ultimus than the one that Typhos had cast in his Kastori form—so much more powerful, in fact, that she would not survive this blast, no matter how many barriers she threw up.
Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4) Page 22
