Don’t ask why. Just take it and enjoy.
“And you? Did Mom let you go home early?”
“Hah,” Adanus said, a mix of a cough and a laugh. “I’m a little bit under the weather. It’s just some silly virus, but it’s getting worse, so I came home to avoid getting the others sick.”
“How much worse?”
“I can’t imagine anything that would keep me away from work after today,” he said, leaving Typhos disappointed. What about in two days? Does that matter as much as work?
“So you are going to go back to work soon?”
“When I get better, yeah.”
“Well…” Just say it. “What about my birthday celebration in a few days? We’re going to go big, you know. And I’d love to have you and mom there.”
His father barely nodded, going into thought, much to the sadness of Typhos. Come on, Dad. Just because it’s not work… I’m your only son. Your only child. Promise you’ll come. Just once. For once in your life promise you’ll come for the whole thing.
“I will make every effort to be there, Typhos,” he said as he reached over, grabbed a bowl, and poured some soup into it. He retreated past the bed of Typhos, past the table where everyone normally ate, past the bookshelf of Kastori history and laws, and rested on his bed. He let out a loud, violent hack, one that reinforced just how sick he was. “It will depend on how I feel. Truth be told, if you were doing this tonight, I could only make a quick appearance before retreating for rest.”
That’s what you said for the last four birthdays. I only saw you at one of them.
“I get that, and I wouldn’t want you to in your current state. I’m just saying if you get better—”
As if on cue, Adanus coughed and spit up blood.
How sick are you, Dad? You’re not that old. You’re supposed to be around when I make it to the council. Are you…
“Are you dying?”
His father gave a short laugh and shook his head.
“Don’t be so pessimistic and dramatic. No, I don’t believe so. This illness has quite the punch. But it looks worse than it really is”
A gnawing doubt remained in Typhos’ head, one that wouldn’t let him smile and feel at peace—it told him his father had not told him everything. When has he ever? His answers are always curt and deflective.
“Just know I love you, and I will make every effort to at least appear at your party.”
That’s sadly the best we’re going to do.
“OK, thanks, Dad, I appreciate it,” Typhos said with no force behind the words.
He rose to his feet and made himself a bowl of soup. He carried it to the table, hoping his actions might persuade his father to sit with him. He quietly sipped on the hot soup, which had a strong aviant taste. The soup did not have anywhere near the deliciousness of an ursus or even a precora, but it was one of the easiest thing to make and could fight illnesses in a way meat could not.
Silently, for several seconds, Typhos sat at the table, focusing on the soup in front of him. When he glanced up, he would see his father sipping on his soup or writing something. Typhos could not see what was being written without overtly standing up, but it didn’t matter. Whatever he’s working on has nothing to do with me being here. Probably meaningless work stuff.
Typhos neared the end of his soup, down to slurping the remains, when his father shocked him.
“How is school going?”
Typhos stopped mid-slurp, taken aback by the unexpected question from his father.
“It’s going really, really, really well,” Typhos said, repeating “well” to catch himself. “I’m taking a black magic test in a couple of days and I feel super prepared. It helps to have you and mom as parents.”
A tiny smile and a gentle snort came from his father, giving Typhos the push to keep going.
“I think we just have to show our ability to bring about four basic elements in a rapid span, like within twenty seconds, and if we do that, we’re good to go.”
“And can you?”
“I’m pretty sure I could do it in two seconds.”
His father laughed but followed it with some heavy hacking and wheezing.
“Just be humble,” he said, his voice weak from the coughing.
“Yeah, I know, I know. Oh, that reminds me. You should have seen Pagus this afternoon. I got him good with an ursus prank. I controlled it, bared its teeth, and had it rush up on Pagus, who freaked out. I thought I might have to resuscitate him! Then—”
Typhos paused as he realized he was rambling. Adanus chuckled once and smiled.
“Good times,” his father said. “I used to pull stunts like that.”
“Like?” Typhos asked, curious for more ideas and words from his father.
“I changed the weather over a single person’s head. I froze someone’s food on the inside. I somehow made your mother fall in love with me.”
“But—”
You got her because you promised her she’d become chief. That’s what the rumors say. That’s what the other kids tell me. Is that what happened? Or did you two fall in love? Tell me you fell in love. That the rumors are only true in that she became chief. Not that she married you and had me in return for her ascension. You’re just joking.
Right?
“But it actually worked,” his father continued quickly, stamping out any objections from Typhos. “Just remember that, son. You can use your magic for good. Pranks are humorous but taken too far—like the time I lit someone’s hair on fire, requiring attention from white magic Kastori—they can put you in a lot of trouble. Especially with your black magic, how much you have, you can cause a lot of trouble. A lot. Attract, don’t repel. Unless it’s war, and that hasn’t happened in… wow, several centuries maybe?”
“Well, I’m not bringing about any war, and I’ll be careful. I’m going to make sure when I’m chief—”
“If,” his father said, too gently to rebuke.
“—that I’m going to bring the Kastori to new heights and salvation from death.”
His father smiled, and more coughing came. He’s really sick. You should talk to him about something lighter. Something not related to death.
Hanna?
Nah.
Well…
Tell him. Maybe he can give good advice.
“Actually, while we’re talking, I, uh, wanted your help with a girl,” Typhos said rapidly, blushing.
“Oh?” his father said, a warm smile on his face as he turned to Typhos.
“This girl in my class, Hanna. She’s… sweet. Beautiful. Amazing. I just, I need advice—”
The flap opened behind him, and Typhos paused his speech as both he and his father turned around. His mother, with her youthful looks, deep blue eyes, and flowing dark red hair, smiled at her son as she opened her arms, inviting Typhos for a hug.
“You’re home early!” Typhos said joyfully as he squeezed her tight. “Super early!”
“I know,” his mother said, regret in her voice. “I’ll try and make this more frequent. How are you, son?”
“Great! I was just telling Dad about school and stuff,” he said, too uncomfortable to talk to his mother about Hanna. “It’s going well.”
“Let me check in on him, OK?” she said. “We sent him home early because he was so sick. I need to see how he’s doing.”
Typhos nodded as he understood the cue. He filled up his bowl with more soup and carefully opened the flap. He prepared to walk to his favorite spot, an edge on the hill diagonal from Pagus’ tent which overlooked the forest and gave a great view of the nighttime sky. Just as the flap closed behind him, though, he heard his father hacking somehow even harder than before—to the point it sounded like he vomited. It’s worse than he’s letting on, Typhos thought, and he cast a quick spell that made him invisible to most sense spells. Won’t work if mom wants to sense me. But that’s not her focus.
Rarely is, really.
“Adanus, it’s getting worse,” his mother s
aid, concern in her voice. “You’re coughing up blood now. How do you feel?”
“Honestly, fine, Aida,” he said.
There’s no way. No way. I saw you, Dad.
“Adanus,” she said, the tone in her voice obviously disbelieving.
“I just don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t sense anything serious. I know I’m worse than the past couple of days, but I don’t feel anything. Maybe I’m just getting old,” he said with a laugh that turned into heavy coughing.
This is only going to upset you. Go to the peak.
But morbid curiosity overrode protective common sense for Typhos.
“You getting old is still not nearly as old as the chiefs before you,” his mother said. “Just be honest with me, Adanus. I can ignore a lot of the times that you dismiss being sick, but this is… it’s not good. Tell me the truth.”
“I did.”
Deflecting and generalizing. Never one to talk about tough topics. Come on, Dad. Just once.
“Adanus,” she once again said in a doubting voice. “Look me in the eye and tell me you are fine. That this is nothing to worry about. I can’t have you hiding something serious. I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re the one who made me chief.”
“Aida!” Adanus said with surprising energy. “You know we don’t say that—”
“No one’s listening,” Aida said in a loud whisper. “You’re just… everything in my life is because of you.”
A long pause came, and Typhos began to have a sickening feeling in his stomach. His legs went weak, and he suddenly had no interest in the soup in his hands.
“This is nothing,” Adanus said, with emphasis on “nothing.” “To worry about.”
“Are you sure? We can get Lyos to examine you and heal you if—”
“Aida,” Adanus said warmly. His mother murmured something Typhos did not hear before continuing. “You’re my wife. I wouldn’t want to hurt you. I am OK.”
Aida sighed but then laughed.
“I trust you,” Aida said, her voice yearning and hopeful. “In any case, be there for our son’s birthday. The council agreed to give us both the day off.”
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Typhos smile shot wide, and he could now look past his father’s deflective words. He no longer had a reason to eavesdrop and quickly made his way to the cliff. He could look up at the emerging stars with hope and joy, instead of anxiety and regret. Dad might actually have been honest and forthright there.
To his left, he heard Pagus approaching.
“Give up studying?” Pagus asked.
“Never had anything to give up,” Typhos said, his voice ebullient.
“Fair enough,” Pagus said as he sat down. “Star gazing again I see. You love these times, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Typhos said. “See, when I look up, I think of all the worlds I don’t know about, or that even the council doesn’t know about. What life exists elsewhere? Are there other Kastori on other worlds? I’m sure they are. What about life we don’t know about? Do they have powers? I want to know, and the only way I can is to follow in my parents’ footsteps.”
“I take it from your tone you like them today?” Pagus said seriously.
“For sure man. They are coming for my party!”
“Nice!” Pagus said as the two exchanged a shake and a hug of joy.
“Yeah, Dad’s quite ill, but he keeps saying he’ll be fine. Honestly, as long as he’s there for my birthday… it’s all good.”
And he will be good. He wouldn’t lie to Mom after the way she dug into him.
“All good,” Pagus repeated back, and he joined his friend in gazing at the stars.
I’m going to be a chief just like my parents. I’ll do better than they will. We’ll spread across the stars and find great new worlds to explore and inhabit. It’s going to be amazing. That’s also how I’ll be the “savior” for my people. Place them across the universe so no one thing can bring our downfall. I’ll be their god, and give them life wherever they want.
Someday.
I’ll be the one who takes us all over the universe and saves our people.
4
Eager to finally have a month off from school and nothing between him and his party, Typhos strolled up to the area in the plains where his final test would take place. He nodded to Pagus, standing near the front, who shook his head with a smirk at Typhos’ inability to ever arrive until the last possible second. Typhos saw Hanna look back at him with a warm smile, and he smiled back, his stomach flipping on itself like an aviant diving in the sky.
“OK, class, I hoped you studied,” the teacher, an older woman named Tara with silver hair, defined crow’s feet, and an easily annoyed attitude, said.
Why should the “savior” study? Typhos thought. I’m all natural.
“You know what this test consists of, but I will remind you once more. You have twenty seconds to produce a fire, electric, ice and water spell. I will tell you when you have created a spell to my satisfaction.”
Why does she get to decide? Not that it’ll matter for me. But for others… Tara’s just an old hag, like many of the older Kastori here. Her ways won’t be the way when I take over.
“We will go through alphabetically by first name. Ariana, please step forward.”
Ariana, a tall, lanky girl with gorgeous blonde hair, stood in front of the class and turned to her right.
“I will start counting when I see the first spell appear.”
The nervousness on Ariana’s face was palpable as she bit her lip and her eyes blinked continuously. She held her right arm out, sporting a slight tremble, and clenched it tight. A fire appeared from her fist, extending out about three feet. The class politely applauded.
“Save it for the end,” Tara said, a cold glance putting the students on notice—except Typhos, who applauded past her words and decided he would have some fun with Tara later.
Ariana extinguished the fire spell and produced a block of ice. She closed her eyes but struggled with the electric spell. Typhos watched uncomfortably as Ariana struggled to get in the proper frame of mind, her frustration evident from her breathing.
“Ten seconds,” Tara said, which seemed to trip up Ariana even further as she groaned.
Ariana held her hand out, but nothing came. Typhos looked at everyone else, who had their eyes locked on Ariana, hoping for a lightning bolt to flash before them.
“Five, four…”
Typhos closed his eyes and concentrated. Suddenly, the class gasped as Typhos heard the lightning boom just feet away. Ariana, herself shocked, did not do anything else as Tara counted to zero.
Should’ve added the water spell. Oh well.
“Unfortunately, Ariana, you did not pass,” she said. “You may, however, try again once we go through the entire class.”
Tara walked slowly down the middle of the class. Typhos begged for her to call him out so he could have some more fun with the teacher.
“And I would advise whichever one of you produced that lightning spell to not assist in further testing,” Tara said, her eyes locking on Typhos in a not-so-subtle warning. “Such assistance will result in consequences.”
Typhos opened his mouth, but Tara left before he could even speak his first syllable.
So when the council combines their powers, it’s considered good teamwork, but when we do, it’s cheating?
“Now, then, Asa, please come to the front.”
Typhos knew she would pass easily. Sure enough, in rapid succession, she cast the four spells, finishing within eight seconds. The only question is if I can set the fastest time for the class.
“Excellent. Next…”
Typhos turned to Ariana, who stood next to him, as Tara went through the names in the class.
“Clear your mind,” he whispered. “It’ll make your life a lot easier if you just reset and start from a clear space instead of trying to cast an electric spell while still thinking about an ice spell.”
A
riana turned with what began as a perplexed expression but gradually morphed to an understanding and appreciative smile. It’s like I know a thing or two and can help others.
“I owe you one,” she said. “I already know I’m going to ace it.”
“Just support me when I go for the council,” Typhos said with a wink.
“Typhos!”
He snapped back to the front of the class, where Tara looked at him coldly. What now?
“I am so sorry, Tara,” he said, but the tone brought laughter and snickers from the other students.
“Since you seem so disinterested in how the other students are doing—”
“On the contrary, I was helping Ariana so she could succeed next time,” Typhos said.
“—why don’t you come to the front?” Tara said over him, ignoring his words.
Typhos shrugged and walked to the front, loving the attention everyone gave him at that moment. As if preparing for a big fight, he stretched and swung his arms around. Time for the main event.
“It’s going to be real tough with some of the competition I have seen out here,” Typhos said, drawing laughs from the class. “Sometimes I see other people perform, and I get nervous and feel like I have to prepare for the ultimate challenge.”
“Did you even prepare for this, Typhos?” Tara asked in an exasperated tone as she put her hand on her forehead.
Typhos just laughed and chose not to answer that.
“I don’t like just to perform, I like to put on a show,” he said, bouncing on his feet as he addressed his fellow students. “Because learning shouldn’t be boring with an old lady droning on. It should be a spectacle that makes you—”
“You’ve used ten seconds already, Typhos.”
He flashed her an angry look—she never told me we’d started—but nonchalantly turned around. He cast all four spells simultaneously, producing a block of ice that had electricity flowing through it, a flame resting on top, and winds blowing it away from the crowd. The students roared with applause and laughter and cheered him on as Typhos took a dramatic bow, encouraging the clapping and yelling of his name. That’s right. Best in class, your savior, Typhos.
“You were saying?” he said, turning to Tara with a cocky grin.
Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3) Page 2