“Don’t shoot, no matter what,” Petrus said, a powerful feeling overcoming him. He reached for his gun and looked through the scope, and immediately recognized her. Crystil.
“I also see two more, one magi—”
“Do not shoot!” Petrus said emphatically, preempting any “heroic” acts. “If that’s a magicologist with two humans, they may have no choice but to help us.”
Morian pulled back from his rifle to give disgusted disapproval, but no fingers pulled triggers. Petrus looked through the scope. He could see the magicologist, wearing golden robes, and another familiar feeling went through him. The other figure, a man, had his back turned, but Petrus began to put the pieces together, and…
“I’m going to meet her, do not fire. No matter what. You only shoot her if I’m dead.”
“No,” Lance said. “I’ll bring her here. I won’t hurt her.”
Only because I trust you, Lance.
Petrus begrudgingly laid down as Lance approached the former commander.
51
Crystil saw a tall man approaching her—weaponless, thankfully—and she took a deep breath. I’m here to help, don’t do anything stupid.
“Who are you?” the man said, in a voice she immediately recognized.
“Lance,” she said, trying not to laugh. “Good to see you.”
“How do you—wait,” he said.
“You know who I am,” she said.
“Commander Bradford,” he said, full of awe and reverence. “You’re alive. And you’re here. Is this—”
“No, not an illusion,” she said. “I can explain everything.’
Lance stumbled over his words as he looked back at the other soldiers.
“Explain it to all of us,” Lance said, and he hesitated before leading Crystil back to the group.
She walked over with a mixture of excitement and nerves. If Lance is here, some of the best soldiers we had are here too. This helps us a ton, especially if they can overwhelm the returning magicologists.
But will they still follow me? Or do they have a new pecking order? Will they even be in line with our plans?
Lance motioned for all of the soldiers to release their grip on their weapons. They all stood at attention for Crystil. She recognized a couple of them—Trista, the fiery short girl who reminded Crystil of herself in every way except physical appearance; and Ector, the most reliable man she knew. Two others she did not recognize, and one of them seemed to want to avoid Crystil.
“Commander Crystil Bradford,” Trista said, giving a quick bow. “You made it back here.”
“I did.”
“And, ma’am, I’m sorry to say, but I feel like you abandoned us.”
“She did!” said one of the soldiers she did not recognize. “She flew off with the other ships.”
This is what I come home to?
“Guys, first, I was ordered by Emperor Orthran, may he rest in peace, to protect Cyrus and Celeste on their new world. I had no choice.”
“That’s convenient since he’s not here,” the unknown soldier said, causing Crystil’s anger to boil.
“Do you really think I would lie as a soldier in the Imperial Army to a fellow soldier?” she said, her voice returning to the cold, cruel tone she’d adopted in space with Cyrus. He’s worse than Cyrus. Cyrus jokingly fought back. He’s really fighting back.
“I believe you, Crystil,” Trista said. “But then… why did you leave? And why did you come back?”
“For largely the same reason. To protect the children of Emperor Orthran. Including the one held captive right now.”
“Celeste,” Trista said with a gasp, and Crystil nodded.
“This is crazy,” the nuisance of a young soldier said. “She could have kept her duty. Her—”
“Enough!”
The man avoiding Crystil spoke. His voice sounded incredibly familiar to Crystil.
When everyone parted, Crystil struggled to place him. He had many facial scars, and looked wearied from the toll of war. But he had deep blue eyes that conveyed both a strong fire and compassion to her. Those eyes…
No way.
“She went to Anatolus with Celeste and Cyrus because I commanded her to protect my children.”
52
We’re wasting time. The longer we spend making friends—I don’t care how armed they are—the less time we have to get Celeste. We have what we need.
Cyrus watched in frustration as Crystil communicated with the humans. Just a couple weeks ago she was saying how useless she was. Now she wants to add people without swords who would be useless in battle?
“Take the help where you can get it, Cyrus,” Erda mumbled. “They just eliminated the wall patrol here.”
“An elimination which we could have easily handled ourselves. We’d be in the palace by now, going to Celeste, if not for this distraction.”
“It’s not a distraction, Cyrus. Place these humans on the wall instead of the Kastori, and suddenly, we are protected from outside threats.”
She has a point. But why would she want them? The humans will want to kill her.
But Cyrus said nothing. Crystil hugged one of the men tightly, which Cyrus found touching and annoying. We’re going to spend even more time out here. Really wish I could communicate to Crystil right now.
“Honestly surprised they haven’t shot you yet,” Cyrus said.
“They may hate me, but they know I’m useful. If they are soldiers and not deranged—which seems likely, given Crystil—they won’t kill what they can use. It’s like Typhos.”
She sighed as she said that, and Cyrus felt an odd sadness from her at that moment. He turned to comfort Erda but heard the sounds of Crystil’s footsteps. He turned and saw an unusual expression on her face—uncontrollable giddiness.
Without a word, she grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the soldiers.
“What are you doing?”
“You won’t believe it if I told you, so I’m going to show you,” she said.
She stopped feet before the soldiers, and they all parted to show one man. One man whom, even though he looked different than he did two and a half years ago, Cyrus immediately recognized by his eyes.
“Pops,” he said in disbelief.
“Cyrus,” Emperor Orthran said, his smile widening.
“Pops!”
Cyrus ran forward and squeezed his father. Alive. He’s alive. He’s real. He survived. I…
Rarely speechless, Cyrus found himself tongue-tied. He fell into the emotion of the moment, a mixture of unbelievable joy at seeing him again, sadness at having left him to suffer on Monda, and relief that his home planet could indeed be called home.
“Pops! My… wow, I don’t believe it. You’re here. You’re alive. A little underdressed for an emperor, but alive.”
“It’s good to see you haven’t changed, son,” Emperor Orthran said with a laugh.
“But… how?”
“Typhos has a mean streak,” he said. “He was about to kill me, but decided it was better if I returned to the world as a mere slave. I couldn’t keep my name, and was told if I revealed my identity to anyone, he’d kill me and everyone at the camp in the most inhumane way he could think of. Everyone here just learned a few moments ago.”
I…
“Tell me the story, Pops. Quickly.”
His father nodded in understanding and turned to face the group.
“The explosion which you saw from space, after we launched our fifty ships, was not nearly as bad as it might have looked, at least for the ground forces. It was designed to annihilate our air forces, and unfortunately, it succeeded. Anything that was flying at that moment was destroyed, and all of our fighters perished in the fire. Debris reigned from the sky, but as you know, I was safe in a bunker. Safe, however, was relative. We were deep in the palace, but they had already breached the place, and with their sensing powers, they got to us quickly. Right before they did, five of my soldiers prepared to ambush the incoming Kastori but were
quickly annihilated. I assumed my end was coming when I saw of Typhos approaching. He mocked me for letting my people flee. I asked him if he wanted this, a planet full of ash, storms, and death, and he seemed… he actually seemed disappointed before he laughed at me. He said he had no use for me, and took out his sword.”
Cyrus gulped as he tried to imagine the scene.
“He brought his sword inches from my neck, so close that, at times, he scratched it. He found it funny and asked if I thought he was cruel. I said nothing, and he talked to me about how he wanted to inflict the kind of pain on the world that he had suffered. I asked why this world, and he simply said it was personal. He said an emperor’s downfall should not be a quiet event, and so he paraded me around Capital City in chains and rags. I can still feel the chaffing of metal and the force of magic binding my hands together behind my back. I was jeered at by the magicologists. Humans were forced to yell at me too, or they were savagely beaten. I saw the faces of many people who had served me or whom I had worked with, and though I knew none of them meant their taunts, it hurt all the same. I kept my head down and just walked as commanded.”
“But Celeste said she saw your death,” Cyrus said, his voice shaky from the vivid details.
“It was close,” the Emperor said. “He brought me to my throne room and said that I should bow before him. I said I never would, and he brutally beat me and brought me to my knees. He prepared to kill me and had his sword over me, and even nicked my back, but pulled back at the last second. I thought he was torturing me, but he had instead made a last second decision. He told me he would let me live with the knowledge that I had failed, but not with the perks of being an emperor. He scarred my face and told me I could never reveal my identity to anyone. If not for that threat, I probably would have just chosen death.”
Cyrus looked at the shocked troops.
“I see it now,” one of them said. “But I just never thought it possible.”
“That was by design, Lance,” Cyrus’ father said. “I had a few people say I looked like the emperor, but I just said I was a look-alike. But now that Typhos is gone and we’re preparing to overthrow him—and now that you and Crystil are here, and we’re about to save Celeste—I wanted to battle with you guys as a father and your leader rather than as a puppet.”
Cyrus still couldn’t believe it. He looked at Crystil and at his father, not sure what to believe anymore. Crystil was real. He felt his father was there, that this was not a trap. No, not a trap. Pops wouldn’t act this way if Typhos had created him as an illusion.
“The way you were paraded through the streets…” a female soldier said, bitterness noticeable.
“I should have just said who I was earlier, before we left, but it didn’t occur to me after all this time,” he said. “I’m sorry, to my soldiers. Cyrus, Crystil. Let’s go get Celeste.”
“Definitely,” Cyrus said.
“Wait,” a young soldier said, doubt clear in his voice. “How did you all get here?”
“Erda—”
Cyrus paused. This is the moment where we figure it out. If they want to help us and can accept it.
“We have assistance. A Kastori transported us here, but it goes beyond that.”
He looked to his father, who didn’t seem surprised. He knows. Maybe he…
“My sister and I are Kastori.”
53
I knew this day would come. When the truth came out. Just handle it well, guys.
Morian fumed as his eyes narrowed.
“It’s a trap,” he said. “We’re being set up by Typhos. The magicologists tricked us again!”
“No,” Cyrus said. “We only recently discovered our powers on Anatolus. Celeste is much stronger than I—that’s why we’re here to rescue her.”
“Celeste is the one who’s going to defeat Typhos and save us all?” Morian said sarcastically. “She can’t even save herself.”
“Morian!” the emperor barked. “Understand this. Not all Kastori are evil, and my daughter has probably encountered many dangers on Anatolus that I would not wish upon even Typhos.”
“Are you a magicologist as well?” Morian asked, suspicion in his voice.
We’re going to fight and kill each other before we even get to the palace.
“No. This discussion is over.”
“Woah!”
“It’s not over!”
“How do we know this isn’t Typhos?”
“It’s the Emperor himself, do you think he would lie?”
“Know your place, Morian!”
“Did you know this, Crystil? Do you know the truth?”
The soldiers bickered amongst themselves, with Lance and Trista taking Emperor Orthran’s side, Ector and Garoth observing silently, and Morian sparring with the energy of six men. He’s too unstable. I should have known. We can’t take along a zealot.
“Pops,” Cyrus said, and the emperor, relieved to talk to someone who understood him, turned while the rest argued. “Why did you never tell us that we were Kastori?”
“There was no reason to early on. Kastori were just rare visitors, and they never used their magic here. Then the war came, and I didn’t want you two to suffer because of your identity. When I shipped you out, I didn’t want the other actual humans resenting you. I’m sorry, son.”
“No, it’s fine,” Cyrus said reassuringly. “Look at what these fools are doing right now.”
“Enough!” Crystil said, a bit louder than the emperor preferred. “We have Celeste in there, and we are wasting time. Morian, go home.”
“I—”
“Go,” she said with authority even the Emperor would’ve bowed to. Morian shot them all a disgusted look and turned to leave.
“Your weapon,” Crystil said.
Morian groaned loudly and dropped it, not bothering to return it to the men. Lance grabbed it, handing it to Crystil.
“We don’t need fools on our mission,” Crystil said. “I am not interested in having a suicidal maniac with us. If anyone objects, too bad.”
Emperor Orthran caught his son flashing a quick grin, and he knew his son had experienced Crystil at her best.
“Who’s the Kastori, then?” Trista asked, hesitation in her voice.
Crystil looked back to the woman in robes and waved her over. As she approached, Emperor Orthran recognized her immediately.
“I’m Erda, and to answer the question that someone asked earlier, Caius here is not Kastori,” she said.
She locked eyes with Cyrus for a moment, and the emperor knew at that moment the truth passed between them.
“I am. I am the mother of Cyrus and Celeste.”
54
Cyrus heard the murmurs through the crowd, and the sound of Erda’s voice reached his ears, but he didn’t process what she’d actually said. Instead, he thought about all of the time he’d spent with her, his mother, never connecting the dots together.
If only I’d thought more of my early childhood. If only I’d listened to her more carefully. If only…
Hurt and with too much frustration going through him, he walked a couple of steps away from the crowd as she continued to speak. He looked down at the ground, wondering when the revelations would stop and when he’d see Celeste.
“Cyrus,” the one still-comforting female voice in the crowd said. Crystil placed her hand on his left shoulder. “Celeste.”
Say no more.
“Get them ready. We’ll deal with this later.”
You got this. You’re better than any of these soldiers. Line them up and let’s get Celeste.
“Listen up,” Crystil said, interrupting Erda. “We’re wasting a ton of time out here. If we didn’t start talking as we have, we’d be on the second floor by now. I’m taking charge of this mission, unless someone wants to argue otherwise.”
No one flinched, let alone spoke. That’s my girl, Cyrus thought. I love it when others are getting the tough Crystil.
“I need the four soldiers to stand outside the t
emple entrance with their rifles and shoot anything that approaches the opening of the wall. All of the allies you will get are here right now, so if it comes, it’s an enemy. Understood?”
Everyone nodded.
“Cyrus and Erda, join me inside. We’ll go and get Celeste. Emperor Orthran…”
She feels weird giving a command to him.
“I’ll go with you,” he said. “Inside. I need to see my daughter. And our contact will help us.”
Crystil and Cyrus looked at the Emperor askance.
“Contact?”
“One of the guardians wants to overthrow Typhos and claim the throne for himself. He will make sure our path to Celeste is clear in return for helping him.”
Crystil grimaced. She doesn’t want to help the enemy. But her emperor already made a deal with him. Crystil crossed her arms.
“Can we trust him not to hurt us?”
“Yes,” his father said without hesitation.
You’ve never failed us, Pops. Don’t disappoint now.
“How does he expect us to help him?”
“He wants to use Celeste’s powers to defeat Typhos,” the Emperor said with reservation. “Gaius believes Celeste, with us, can kill Typhos.”
“Celeste needs rest,” Erda said. “She needs to come home to Anatolus.”
“Home? Anatolus?” Emperor Orthran said. “Erda, Celeste’s home is Monda. Not wherever you’ve disappeared to.”
“I’m sorry, Caius, but you knew my loyalties were split.”
We’re wasting time. Again. Come on.
“Come with us to Anatolus, Pops,” Cyrus said. “We’ll regroup. We can bring Gaius or whoever for all I care. Then we launch an attack on Typhos.”
“And leave us behind like last time,” the shorter female soldier said.
More arguing broke out over where Celeste would wind up.
“Stop!” Cyrus said. “Let’s make this simple. Crystil, Erda and I have the leverage here with the power. You’re not going to shoot your commander or the son of the emperor. So here’s what happens. We rescue Celeste. Erda makes a portal for us. Everyone goes through it. Everyone here, and Gaius too. If someone doesn’t want to come, then that’s their choice. But everyone here can go. We recover, we rest, we prepare, and we launch an attack on Typhos.”
Kastori Devastations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 2) Page 18