Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4)

by Stephen Allan

  How. How. How.

  Her mind raced through the question as the orb continued to gather energy and crackle, becoming more unstable by the second. She could not deflect the attack—that was a nonstarter even with Typhos in his human form. She could not survive the attack with her defense mechanisms.

  A crazy thought came to mind.

  Erda had sacrificed herself and absorbed the mortal blow from Celeste, allowing the young girl to live. She glanced down at her sword, embedded with a red gem, and wondered.

  Does it have similar powers? Could it do the same thing?

  Time was running out. The orb became more unstable and threatened to explode at any moment. Celeste didn’t have time to run and plunge the sword into the orb. She would get one shot to throw it from where she stood, and if she missed, it was her life that she would lose.

  The world seemed to move in slow motion. She thought of her mother, sacrificing her life for her, a woman who had suffered terribly—some of her own doing, some not—but who had redeemed herself in the end. She thought of her brother, who had nearly crippled the mission before saving both her and Crystil, and now played an integral part in the defense of Monda. She thought of Crystil, the cold, icy warrior who had become one of them. She thought of her father and the terrible tragedies and tribulations he went through, waiting for the day, foolishly hoping that Celeste and Cyrus would return.

  And, even at the moment, with her arm coiling back, ready for possibly the last throw of her life, she thought of Typhos and the boy he once was and could have been. She knew that even as recently as on Tapuya, he could have given up the fight, and she felt a tinge of sadness he would never reach that. It would cost him either his life or her life.

  But if he lays dying… he can still…

  Her arm shot forward, and the blade flew through the air, time seeming to return to normal. She couldn’t see if her sword had struck the orb, because just a half-second before it would’ve, a blinding green light filled the air, and Celeste prepared to die.

  But she still felt whole.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes. The arena and barrier around her glowed a light green, and Typhos on the far end struggled to rise. The illusion of Anatolus had faded, and they were back in space. In the middle, her sword lay, coursing with green energy. She used her red magic to call the blade back to her. The hilt remained the same, but the blade glowed green, pulsing with the greatest black magic power in the universe. Celeste stared in awe at the weapon, amazed at what she had done, and looked to Typhos, who suddenly had fear in his eyes.

  “How…”

  Celeste couldn’t answer that. She went silent not to avoid engaging the enemy, but because she hadn’t expected the move to work. It was a move that signaled she had no better idea, and yet it had proved to be the move that would turn the tide.

  “You… you… that was my power!” Typhos roared as he charged.

  But Celeste felt strikingly calm as Typhos charged from the air, even with his two swords still intact. The beast swooped down and time seemed to slow. Celeste swung her blade at the sword in Typhos’ right hand, breaking it in half and rendering it useless. She quickly spun and swung at one of his wings, tearing it from his body. Typhos crumpled to the ground and quickly whirled around. Celeste swung her blade down, and Typhos deflected it. Though this blade did not break—it’s the true black sword—Celeste knew she had the overwhelming advantage now. She swung down again, and again Typhos parried, but this time, Celeste knocked the sword out of his hand. She ignored the hand rising in defense and plunged her blade through the center of Typhos’ chest.

  Typhos screamed, belying his claim and Celeste’s suspicions about his lack of pain, as he writhed on the ground, the sword remaining embedded in his chest. He howled and arched his back, the cries disturbing and one of a dying man. Typhos lost control of his magic as spells shot off into several directions, forcing Celeste to take several steps back, her sword remaining where it had pierced him. A massive light appeared from Typhos as all of the energy surged from him.

  Slowly, the light disappeared, and Celeste could see once more. Typhos’ monster form had vanished. He lay there in the clothing that he had when he met her at the peak of Mount Ardor. Her sword had shattered, its pieces scattered across the ground.

  She rushed to him and gasped. His mask was gone. She could finally see his face.

  It was scarred, burned, and only had one eye.

  But what parts she could see made Typhos look exactly like Cyrus, fifteen years older.

  53

  As Crystil launched into the mouth of the creature, she still couldn’t believe just how large the thing was. Its teeth alone were the size of the largest building in Capitol City—or the Capitol City she had grown up in—and the forked section of its tongue could easily destroy all three of their ships at once. The drops of saliva that formed inside the mouth looked like entire waterfalls, and Crystil silently thanked the creators of the ship that they had the size and agility that they did—she doubted the old ships would have the maneuverability to survive a mission like this.

  “OK guys, remember what we said. Go slowly, don’t fire anything, and on my cue, we attack the throat.”

  The jaws closed behind them, and Crystil looked up. It was like looking at the sky on Monda at night—she could not make out the roof of its mouth.

  “Lights on,” she said, and beams emitted from the fighters in all directions, lighting the way. But even then, she would only see the drops of saliva forming. The side and bottom of the mouth were too far away to be shined upon. If this weren’t about to kill Monda, it would be amazing. Incredible. That Typhos could create something like this…

  A drop of saliva formed in front of her and she swooped the ship to the side, narrowly dodging the substance. She began to wonder if that would actually cause any damage to her, but she didn’t see a reason to risk it.

  After flying for what felt like two minutes, she saw the back of the mouth—an opening that still seemed to defy expectations. She gulped, imagining viruses and bacteria doing the same in her throat, and felt an odd sense of understanding. That’s how it works. Go inside where it’s weaker.

  The beast opened its mouth once more, and a whoosh of wind pushed them forward dangerously quickly, forcing Crystil to maneuver acrobatically past debris. A bit of saliva caught one of her wings, tilting the ship, but she shook it off shortly after and entered the throat of the beast.

  “Got a smell worthy of an overcooked breakfast, huh?” Cyrus said, but Crystil could no longer engage in banter. The mission had become too real and her reflexes needed to be perfectly sharp.

  They flew in peace for a couple of minutes, though Crystil made sure to fly close to the center as the throat constricted and in case a rush of something came that she had to fly to the side to dodge.

  “Think it’s time to blow a hole, Commander?” Garrus asked.

  We’re far enough in. But things are about to get rocky.

  “Use your bullets with a fire endowment to open a hole. But be ready. You’d be choking and hacking pretty hard if something tried to tear you apart from the inside. I’m going to swoop ahead and come back. Be ready for a gush of wind and dodge accordingly.”

  Cyrus and Garrus slowed down as Crystil went at her normal speed, then banked sharply. Despite the creature’s massive size, its throat proportionally meant Crystil didn’t have nearly as much room to work with as before. Now really thankful for these new ships.

  She shined a light on the spot she wanted the three of them to fire.

  “On three. One…”

  She gulped and tightened her grip on the controls.

  “Two…”

  This really better work.

  “Three!”

  The three ships unloaded their bullets as the throat began to tear. The walls shook violently, and Crystil felt air currents battering the ship, trying to break the vessels.

  “Stay there and keep firing!” she yelled.

 
; Seconds later, a small opening formed. Crystil fired her jets forward and made it inside the chest cavity, where things still shook, but the worst of the airwaves had ended.

  “Gentlemen?” she asked.

  “Never doubt us, Crystil,” Garrus said with a laugh as the two emerged seconds later. Garrus’ ship had some debris on its wing, but nothing which slowed it down. Crystil wouldn’t smile in pride yet, but she felt good about their progress.

  Crystil looked down at her radar and saw something trembling rhythmically. She listened closely and could hear the pounding of the heart, off in the distance.

  “Follow me, guys,” she said.

  The two flew through the cavity, mindful of the various bones and other unknown substances, toward the massive heart. It didn’t take long for Crystil to see it, and it made her gasp. It was so massive, she wasn’t sure that six missiles could do the trick. But we got nothing else. Bullets, maybe they’ll help.

  “Fire, Crystil?” Cyrus asked.

  “On my count,” she said. “Equip your missiles with the ice endowment, fire away, and then equip your bullets with an electric endowment. Use up all your ammo, and get out of there. Don’t wait for either of us. Same for you, Garrus.”

  “Understood, Commander.”

  “You don’t get to be a hero escorting the last person out. If you don’t leave as soon as you can, you die, and there’s no honor in dying unnecessarily.”

  The heart seemed to beat faster as if knowing of the humans’ presence inside.

  “On my count.”

  Her hand went to her missile trigger, and she smiled. We always find a way.

  “Three… two… one…”

  Looks like we’re going to Narshia, Cyrus.

  “FIRE!”

  Six missiles flew through the air and collided with the heart, which beat faster as blood gushed out. Crystil switched over to her electric endowment and sprayed her bullets across the body of the heart as best as she could. She swung back as she finished a pass, leaving her with about four hundred bullets.

  “I’m out,” Garrus said.

  “Get out of here, Garrus,” Crystil said. “I’ll see you on Monda.”

  “Understood. See you soon, Commander! Looking forward to some monster soup later!”

  Garrus gave his usual laugh and departed back for the hole the three of them had created.

  “Cyrus, shall we?”

  “Together, destroy the Monda destroyer? It’s so romantic.”

  “Watch it. Someone may hear these conversations some day.”

  “I hope they get jealous.”

  Crystil rolled her eyes as the two lined up side by side, preparing for one last pass. The two fired their remaining bullets together, with Cyrus running out far faster than Crystil. Just before she rolled the ship back to the throat, she saw the heart stop its beating. We destroyed it. But hopefully, this thing isn’t close enough to crash to Monda.

  She and Cyrus gunned their ships up, climbing toward the throat. Inside, debris rained down in the form of different substances. Heart stopped beating, but the rest is just crashing down, she thought. She and Cyrus engaged in some wild maneuvers, taking her back to the first battle with Calypsius where she stretched Omega One to the limit. She knew of no way that ship would survive the things that Phoenix did.

  She reached the mouth and rejoiced, having gotten past perhaps the most difficult part of the escape. But when she looked ahead, she saw Monda dangerously close, so close that she could not see any of space.

  “What’s going to happen to Monda?!?” Cyrus asked.

  Crystil didn’t answer for several seconds as she made sure no other obstacles came in between them and their safety. When she saw the tongue would not lash up, she sighed.

  “We have to hope we survive an impact of this beast,” she said.

  Knowing the size of the creature and its speed, though, Crystil didn’t have a lot of faith.

  Suddenly Cyrus swore repeatedly.

  “Something hit my wing!”

  Crystil looked over and saw his left wing had completely broken.

  “Cyrus!” she cried out.

  “Magic… will help…”

  “Focus, Cyrus, you’re not dying today.”

  The ship stabilized somewhat, preventing it from crashing inside the beast. The two emerged and flew down to Monda, entering the atmosphere in no time. They had survived.

  But with the beast on a collision course and Cyrus’ ship on an unstoppable, barely-controlled descent, Crystil wondered if she would have anything worth surviving for in the next minute.

  54

  All of the cold, single-minded focus Celeste had equipped herself with the minute she left Monda vanished at the haunting sight. She’d only seen bits of Typhos’ face when his mask shattered, and even then, she was dying and not able to focus.

  But seeing him now, maskless, scarred, and fully visible, she knew he was family. He didn’t pass as an exact clone for Cyrus, but the similarities. The eyes. The strong jaw. The sarcastic tone that, for Cyrus, functioned as wit and, for Typhos, disgust. She had to kill him for the sake of peace, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t mourn his passing.

  She knelt beside him as he coughed up blood and it pooled out of his body. She gave thought to healing him but stopped herself, knowing that as much as he was family, he would not turn. He had to die for the greater good.

  “You…” he said, and his voice no longer sounded hateful and angry. It sounded… confused. “Why?”

  Celeste looked at him perplexed, not understanding why he asked his question.

  “Why do you stay? You won. Go.”

  Celeste shook her head, trying to fight back the emotions. It was as if she was seeing an older version of Cyrus on the ground in front of her. She swallowed in a short-lived attempt to fend off the wavering in her voices and the tears in her eyes.

  “Because even if you were not my brother, even if you were just the incarnation of evil—neither of which is true—no one deserves to die alone.”

  His eyes widened in surprise but then seemed to soften. A soft smile came across his face.

  “There are a lot of Kastori… and humans who would disagree—”

  He was interrupted as he coughed violently, rolling to his side. Celeste placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Typhos gasped and looked into her eyes.

  “I didn’t think whoever killed me would do this,” he said. “I don’t deserve this. Go back to Monda and stop Vritrus. I don’t deserve anything. Why should I? My mother left me. My father died without telling me. If I didn’t have their love—”

  Celeste shook her head.

  “That’s where you have it wrong, Typhos. I don’t care if you ‘deserve’ it. You’re my brother and a dying man. Am I going to save you?”

  She gulped, refusing to answer her own question.

  “I’m going to stay by your side until you die. I need to know if there is anything you want before you go.”

  Celeste heard a tremble and looked up. The sphere around them was weakening in step with Typhos’ life. She had to go before he died, she realized. Or…

  “No,” he said weakly, but then surprisingly smiled. “I am surprised enough that you… you stayed. I said all would abandon me in the end, yet… you do not. I was not right to assume such fate… but now it is too late.”

  He hacked again, and Celeste could sense he didn’t have more than a couple of minutes left. She looked away from her brother as he violently spat up blood and used the time to sense the battle on Monda. Three ships emerged from Vritrus, and the creature no longer seemed alive.

  But its body was heading straight for Monda, and its impact would destroy much of the planet, if not all of it. I have to go. But I can’t leave him here. I’m with him until the end.

  “Typhos, you’re coming with me,” Celeste said, putting her hands around him. “We’re going to Monda. I need to save my people.”

  “Hah,” Typhos said, hacking. “I’m afraid that fo
r what I have done, it is too late. I saw what you saw… Celeste. Only a spell as powerful as Ultimus can destroy a creature.”

  That’s it.

  “Typhos… you have wanted the title of savior, right?”

  He nodded, but Celeste knew she didn’t have much time.

  “Come to Monda. Cast Ultimus with your dying power. Destroy the monster and save us. It is your chance at redemption and your chance to fulfill your role.”

  Typhos snorted.

  “Nothing can redeem me for what I have done,” he said. “I created that beast. Destroying… it will only… set things back to the beginning.”

  “Which is where we need to go,” Celeste said. “The idea of you saving people from death, that’s not salvation. That’s a curse. I don’t want to live forever. I don’t want anyone to live forever. But I do want to keep my world alive for the future, Typhos. You can help me with that. Please!”

  Typhos, who could barely move, gave a small smile.

  “I cannot… promise anything,” he said. “But teleport me… and we try.”

  It was the best Celeste could hope for.

  She placed her hands on his hand, feeling his too-real skin for the first time. It felt just like any other Kastori’s. My brother. Not an enemy in the sky. My brother.

  She closed her eyes and teleported them away from the dying protective sphere and back to Monda, just outside the palace. The two were alone with the giant monster in the sky. Celeste shuddered at how close it was and couldn’t imagine that even Ultimus would stop it.

  But when she looked back and saw Typhos staggering up, his scarred face now shined upon by light, she saw the determination on his face and felt a trace of hope. He looked at her, struggling to stand, and gave a smile.

  “Sister,” Typhos said, the one word that made her eyes well and tears fall. “You have shown me, at least, that one person is capable of loving me and not ever losing hope in me. I can die now in peace. You have given me the peace of mind knowing that… I have family that loves me. I am gone from this universe, having left a trail of anguish and death, much of it related to you… and Cyrus. I am… it is the way I am,” he said weakly, his voice growing coarser by the minute. “Celeste. Cy… rus. I am sorry. Let this be a small… a small help to end my life.”