Pagus nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, if not fully comprehending it. I barely understand it, so if he does, he should be in my shoes. But it’s trivial since I’ll be there anyways.
“I’ll admit, man, you’d make a good chief. Everyone our age loves you, thinks you’re hilarious, and takes your side in most disputes. You have a very loose and free attitude that appeals to a lot of people and can relate easily to them. Just… remember this afternoon. You got some strong powers, Typhos.”
“I know,” Typhos said, a mix of pride and understanding in his voice.
“Good. On these other worlds, have you been to any?”
Typhos disappointedly shook his head.
“My mother doesn’t want me to go, so until I’m older, I’m stuck here.”
“Why?”
Typhos shrugged. Because Mom’s dumb?
“Who knows? She thinks the Kastori should embrace their home and not constantly be on the move for new places. But… I don’t know, Pagus. That’s her choice. There’s not a whole lot I can do. I know she’s been to those worlds, but when I mention that, she says she earned it with age and experience. So…”
I’ll earn it much sooner.
His voice trailed off, and a smirk came as a gleeful thought came to mind.
“I’ll make it mandatory to visit foreign worlds when I become chief.”
“Now you’re talking,” Pagus said laughing. “What worlds are you—”
But Pagus finished when he turned to the sound of footsteps from behind them. Typhos turned and was shocked at the sight of his father. Typhos could not hide the horror on his face at the sight of Adanus—his face looked gaunt, his complexion had become much whiter, and his eyes lacked any of the spark that Typhos had grown accustomed to. He’s not better. I’m going to press him if he says he’s fine.
He’s almost certainly dying.
“Hi son,” he said.
“Dad,” Typhos said.
“Sir,” Pagus said, quickly rising to his feet.
“It’s OK, Pagus,” his father said, his voice soft and trembling. “Are you doing well?”
“Yes sir, very much so.”
“Good. I normally wouldn’t want to interrupt you two, but I would like to speak to my son for a bit.”
“Oh, yes,” Pagus said, stumbling over what he said. “Yes, sir, sir, yes. Typhos, I’ll be around.”
He quickly departed to his tent, and Typhos had a sick feeling come over him. Why is he out here? Did he overhear what we talked about? Is this going to be a lecture?
Or something more…
His father struggled to crouch, and Typhos offered his hand for support. Adanus accepted it and sat on the ground with a bit of a thud.
“You all right?” Typhos said.
“Nothing but a bit of a bump,” his father said with a warm but weakened smile.
“I meant—”
But something in the eye of his father shut Typhos up, preventing him from probing further into his health. Typhos looked back at the sun, now beginning to dip below the horizon, as he waited for his father to speak.
And for the first time in this spot at this time since… ever.
6
“I know it’s not very fatherly or chief-like of me to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Pagus.”
Typhos’ eyes went wide with embarrassment, and his father responded with a kind laugh that turned into a heavy hacking fit. The wheezing went on for several seconds, and it sounded like his father had an aviant lodged in his windpipe. Adanus finished with a gentle pound on his chest and smiled at his son.
“Sorry. Anyways, you should have ambition. I had ambition too, although, at times, it went too far.”
Like with mom? Typhos sat in silence, eager to have his father continue.
“I tarnished my competitors to make it easier for me to get elected. I spread rumors of deceit of my greatest foe, and he dropped out shortly after. I can’t say I’m proud of that.”
Dad does have a dark side. And it kind of paid off for him. Interesting.
Typhos tried to maintain a calm expression, but internally couldn’t help but think that his father had never confessed this to anyone. Not even to his mother, who might have spilled the secret to others.
“But ambition ultimately landed me at the head of the council and made me chief. Besides, the council does a good job of checking your ambition to make sure you don’t go too far.”
Not my kind of ambition.
“But what if the council doesn’t go far enough?” Typhos said with strong emotion. “I feel like right now, watching what it is now, it moves too slowly and works too much. I hardly ever see you or Mom.”
“That’s not something we’re proud of either, son. But if we don’t follow the process… the last thing we need is for someone to run amok as a dictator in this land.”
His eyes seemed to burrow especially deep into Typhos—because he recognizes my pain? Or a warning? That may have been true in the past. But someone like me, who is just…
Why is he so intense now?
And why did this conversation never happen until now?
“Is there anything, in particular, you’re thinking of that we move slowly on?”
Typhos looked down at the ground, feeling pushed back by his father. I’d have more specifics with more time to think. He didn’t know if he should continue his line of argument—until he remembered that he would someday become chief anyways, and what Pagus had mentioned moments ago about his power.
“I know there are all these other worlds out there, worlds that we can colonize and take over, and we only use those worlds for visiting, not for living,” Typhos said, his words reserved but with a hidden desire beneath them.
His father, to Typhos’ surprise, did not react negatively. He wants to go. Mom wants to stay. Maybe he’s hoping I can find a middle ground.
“Don’t you ever want to go anywhere, Dad? I know what you favor. Just because Mom—”
“Mom knows the history of the Kastori and what dangers emerge when we go to different worlds with different civilizations. It’s not all exploration and diplomacy. Remember, Typhos, there’s a reason most people don’t even know of other worlds. We need to keep quiet, lest they become restless and lead to a disruption of the peace we’ve had for centuries.”
Typhos sighed. Finally get a chance to talk with my Dad, and it turns into a stupid lecture I’ve heard a hundred times.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go,” his father said with a warm smile, perhaps sensing the turning feelings of his son. “You’re in a privileged spot. You should take it while you can.”
I will. I most certainly will.
“And if you become chief—”
“If?” Typhos responded instinctively, a word that he regretted right as he said it. Well, might as well keep going. “What do you mean if? There’s no one with my power, and you and Mom have had that title, so—”
“Son,” Adanus said, his voice cautionary and direct. “Never assume anything. Yes, there is no one your age with your power, and that alone guarantees you will play a major role in the Kastori’s future. But do you know how many times it took me to become chief?”
Typhos assumed just once. He shrugged and said as much.
“If only,” Adanus said. “No, it took three times. If not for the relatively short lifespans of the previous chiefs, there’s a good chance I would never have gotten to this spot. Or your mother. When I applied the first couple of times, I assumed I would become chief. Same situation as yours—great power, great ambition, and so on. Believing you’ll get something, without understanding the actual job, likely means you’ll never get it, especially a job you have to be voted in for when someone dies.”
What’s there to understand? You lead the Kastori and settle quarrels. How can that possibly be difficult to comprehend?
“It’s as political a position as it is a merit-based one,” Typhos’ father s
aid after seeing the confusion and disagreement on his son’s face.
“That’s stupid,” Typhos said without hesitation. “Why wouldn’t we want our strongest and smartest people on the council instead of just those who can suck up the best? It’s counterproductive.”
The expression on his father’s face suggested to Typhos he’d had this conversation many times before, as Adanus barely flinched.
“Because while that sounds good in theory, mere magical strength and intelligence aren’t always enough—and sometimes, those who have enough don’t want the job for a variety of reasons,” his father said, immediately bringing Pagus to mind. “Your mother, for example, is very smart and has an immense amount of power. You got your powers from her, not me. But she’s chief because she attached herself to the right people and, well, sometimes it’s a bit overwhelming and clingy, but it helped get her where she is today. She understood the politics side.”
Specifically, you.
Typhos shrugged, knowing he wouldn’t win this discussion, especially given the state his father was in. I don’t really want to win, either. I just went off on one thing. I’ll make the changes in time.
His father suddenly hacked with such force that blood came out of his throat and splattered on the ground.
“Dad!” Typhos screamed, standing up disgusted.
“It’s a bit worse,” Adanus said as he continued coughing, albeit without blood. “But I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Just… whatever. Nothing is gonna change.
“Tell me about your test today.”
Deflecting. Again. But just go with it. Maybe if you talk enough…
“Well,” Typhos said, adding a few beats of silence so he could compose himself. “It was kind of hilarious. Tara kept scolding us and me specifically. She kept saying how Kastori magic should be used more on a need-to basis instead of showing off. But I finished the test so quickly that I just had to add a little fun to the proceedings. Nothing harmful, though.”
Much to his relief, he saw his father grinning with guilty pleasure as if he had committed his own troubles in class as a child.
“Yeah, it wasn’t difficult at all, honestly. I didn’t even study. Didn’t really see the need to.”
His father looked well for just a flash as he gave a slight chuckle, color returning to his face.
“You have a good sense of your talents and how to spend your time. But in keeping with the theme of what is and isn’t enough, understand that if you want to become chief, it’s not enough to appeal to just your friends and interests. You have to appeal to the older generation too, or at least pay your respects. You’ll never make everyone happy, and you shouldn’t try to, but there’s a line between blatant showmanship and an impressive display of magic. Aim for the latter, not the former. The former annoys the elders, and they’ll work to keep you off the council. And if they want to, they certainly can. Presentation, in essence, matters as much—really, probably more—than substance in politics. It’s a reality we all have to accept.”
Typhos remembered Tara specifically calling him out for trying to become chief and shuddered at the thought that she would talk to councilors to keep him out. He didn’t see how anyone could favor her over him, but the dirty word kept springing to mind: politics.
It was a word which he feared would haunt and shackle him in a way nothing else ever would.
In what world should a bitter old lady ever keep someone like me from their goals?
“Tell me what you plan to do tomorrow for your birthday.”
The new topic shifted Typhos into high gear, who not only lost track of time, but also the surroundings. He talked about his plans for magic shows, competitions, and hunting expeditions. He became grossly enamored in discussing what he and Pagus would plan—even dropping the bet with asking out Hanna. His father laughed and, much to the pleasant surprise of Typhos, followed it up with normal breathing and not the hacking of the dying.
“Remember, she may say no, but better to have no girl than no legs,” Adanus said with a warm smile. “I wouldn’t make our fittest Kastori climb half of Mount Ardor.”
“Is it possible to scale the whole thing?”
Adanus smirked.
“You’ll die before you even get halfway up. So it’s as possible as surviving a fall from the peak.”
Typhos laughed and turned at the sound of footsteps. Figuring Pagus wanted to tell him something, he turned over his right shoulder first but saw nothing. He turned back the other way and saw his mother coming. She walked wearily and with a slow, deliberate pace. His father stood and gingerly walked over, just out of earshot of the boy. The two exchanged a soft, tender hug as Adanus kissed Aida. The two turned back to their only son, holding hands.
“Adanus is looking good, isn’t he?” his mother said, with something of desperation in her voice.
Not really. Worse, probably.
Typhos opened his mouth and hesitated for just a second when he saw his father wink.
“Yeah, much better,” Typhos said, trying to sound uplifting but the effort too apparent.
“Our son has done much today, Aida, and has an even bigger day tomorrow. We’ll need to officiate some magic competition and help set up some other things. Think you can do that?”
His mother smiled.
“Not only do I think I can do that, I know I can do that all day!”
Typhos rushed over and embraced both his parents tightly in a group hug, so overwhelmed he nearly cried. He still couldn’t remember the last time he had both parents together for the entire day.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, his voice quivering.
“Anything for my little boy,” she said, causing a rolling of Typhos’ eyes and laughter from his father.
“I’m fifteen, not five. I won’t be so little anymore.”
“As long as you’re my son, you’ll always be my little boy.”
Typhos groaned jokingly as he squeezed his parents tighter.
Finally.
Nothing could possibly bring down tomorrow.
7
Typhos’ eyes opened from the few hours of sleep he had mustered as an uncontrolled, wide grin formed on his lips.
The perfect day.
Outside, the sounds of aviants cawing and flying filled his ears. A gentle breeze whooshed outside, loud enough to be heard but not disruptive enough to have woken anyone else in his tent. He glanced over and saw his parents still asleep, cuddling each other. His mother’s right arm lay over his father, who lay on his right side, facing away from Typhos. Wake up! Wake up!
Remember. Entitlement. Don’t have it. Let them rest. The sun hasn’t even risen yet. When it’s time, they’ll be there. They promised.
Typhos quietly removed the blankets from his body and rose. He glanced once more at his parents, who both slept like an ursus during winter. He decided if they had not woken by the time Pagus came out, he would gently shake them awake. That gave them at least a couple more hours.
Typhos walked gently toward the flap of his tent, making sure each step landed softly, and emerged outside to see a brightening sky, but one without the sun this early. He looked at the woods, and his stomach growled once. My day. My style. Ursus time.
And Pagus doesn’t get any unless he likes my cooking.
Which he doesn’t. So ursus for breakfast it is.
He chuckled quietly, wanting to maintain the peaceful silence the early morning brought Anatolus.
Typhos wished he could teleport to the woods and save time—and, while he thought about it, have stronger red magic—but such a dream, he knew, required him to actually take his next class seriously. Guess I have to have a weakness. Make me easier to relate to.
He instead walked down at an accelerating rate as he left the Kastori outpost and could afford to make more noise. He walked about a hundred feet into the forest and climbed one of the trees he had used for pranks in the past. He ascended about fifty feet and closed his eyes, trying to sense for an ursus in t
he area.
But Typhos struggled. Every time he tried to clear his mind to sense for his breakfast in the area, he thought about the day ahead. Hanna or, more unfortunately, his father’s illness kept crashing his mind. Wish I could just instantly create the spell instead of having to sit here and think about it.
Finally, after about a dozen minutes of struggling, with his last thought consisting of how he and Hanna would take the council by storm after their silly politics kept him out, he gave up trying to stay single-minded on his task. Typhos let his mind wander, thinking about everything he could, hoping it would eventually wipe itself out and allow him to cast his spell.
After a couple of minutes, it became apparent he would need to let his mind wander for quite some time. He thought about traveling to new worlds and spreading the reign of the Kastori to as many places as possible. He thought about learning powers that no Kastori knew just through sheer studying and the power he had. Why not? New power leads to new magic. For just a flash, he saw images of three planets in his mind—one brown, one white, and one green. I’ve never seen those before. Weird.
Typhos didn’t think much of it, though, as he imagined taking over the council. He thought first of doing it the correct way and celebrating the moment when the other six council members would appoint him chief. Maybe his mother could even resign and let him take over, continuing the unusual method that his father had used.
He shifted to a more gruesome scene, wherein he took the council by force. He had flashes of two images—one consisted of him holding a man upside down, flames all over him, and a bony hand before his eyes on the man’s head. My own? A second image appeared where he held out a sword, and saw a woman that looked like… like his mother, but aged decades, on the ground before him. He wore a mask but had such power that he could see through it as if in the real world.
Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3) Page 4