But the smile masked, not reflected, his feelings at the moment.
“Good,” Garron said. “I’ll be at the council until sunset. We’re making it a point this week to let me come home early since I have to watch both of you. Just remember, Typhos, what I said and what your mother said.”
Typhos nodded. When Garron had vanished, Typhos headed to Pagus’ tent and opened the flap. He felt weary and tired, but seeing his best friend eating breakfast cheered him up.
“Well, well, well,” Pagus said, a huge smile forming. “Bout time the savior returned.”
23
“I’m no savior,” Typhos said, smiling still but wishing the conversation ended. “So please don’t call me that.”
“OK, salvation bringer,” Pagus said with a warm laugh, but the annoyed expression by Typhos cut the laugh short.
Typhos sat by his best friend in silence for what felt like a full minute. Typhos counted off the seconds in his head as Pagus reached over and made some soup. He could finally sense, magically so, that his friend had something on the tip of his tongue he hesitated to verbalize. Pagus handed a bowl to Typhos, and as Typhos sipped, he spoke.
“What was the deal with all of that stuff with the council, man?” Pagus asked.
Typhos slowly slurped on his soup, the better to delay a conversation he didn’t want to have yet again. But he couldn’t push it away forever, given the intensity with which Pagus seemed interested.
“I wanted to help my mother, and at the time, I could only help her for a couple of hours in the evening. I wanted to help her more, so I wanted to be on the council. I got carried away and pretended Fargus would help me and got the support of a couple more that way. It was stupid, I know—”
“No kidding, did you really think Fargus would say yes when the other three supported you?”
“I—”
OK, good point.
“Regardless, Typhos, that’s messed up, man. You—”
“Are you gonna turn against me too? Is that the deal? Are you also going to lecture me, embarrass me, make me feel like a moron who doesn’t deserve to be trusted with anything?”
Typhos’ voice rose until it crescendoed to a near scream at the end of his words. Pagus looked at his friend with eyes caught off-guard by the unreasonable intensity with which Typhos had spoken.
“No,” Pagus finally said, firmly but somewhat quietly. “I love you, man, and I mean that. I’m always here for you. I love you and support you as a man, a friend, and a brother, basically. But that doesn’t mean I have to endorse all of your actions. Do you see what I mean?”
He likes me, but not my actions.
How else would you define me? Actions define the person.
Typhos thought about the actions of his father, his mother, and the council, and how they had all left him reeling. Whether through lies or embarrassment, their actions had made him feel ignored, and the anger clouded his judgment. Every time he tried to see the logic in what Pagus said, it looped back to the evolving hatred he had for everyone who had wronged him.
“No,” Typhos said, with such a tone that Pagus looked frightened as Typhos took the soup from Pagus.
“Oh… OK then,” Pagus said as he took the bowl back from Typhos, who had emptied it. “I still stand by what I said, man. I got your back. I just don’t get your actions.”
“No, I understand,” Typhos said, and he angrily stormed out, ignoring Pagus’ attempts to call him back.
Looks like everyone around me just wants to stop supporting me. No one wants to stick with me until the end.
So be it.
I’m on my own.
24
Typhos sat in the corner of his tent, molding numerous materials together over a gentle fire that he controlled with his magic. No one had come to see him in days, and the only “interaction” he had was seeing Kastori walk by as he worked on his new project.
His own mask.
Typhos chose a gray color, the better to leave people uncertain about what his secondary magic was. There is no secondary magic. I control them all. He had chosen one without the faintest of facial features, the better so that people felt as confused and nervous when facing him as he had felt when he met the council. He wanted no one to know how he felt when he would wear the mask. He even put some scratches on it, to make it seem like he had endured serious battles.
When he finished, he brought it down to the beach so that he could practice his magic at the proper location. He had heard Garron start to call for him as he had left, but he completely ignored the council member. He doesn’t truly support me. Pagus doesn’t support me. I have no use for either of them. Pagus doesn’t even want to be a councilor, let alone a rival to me becoming chief.
My mother, it seems, doesn’t even support me. It’s the third day, the earliest she said she’d come back, and no sign of her whatsoever.
He came to the beach and kneeled, as he had often seen other Kastori doing when they equipped the mask. He grabbed his featureless mask, still warm from the fire, and gently cooled it with his magic. He slowly put it on and stood. At first, all he saw was the inside of the mask and wondered why anyone would ever wear such—
Then he could see the world in an entirely new way. All of Anatolus came to him through his red magic, and he saw things not as the physical manifestation that his eyes gave, but as a flow of energy he could manipulate for his own purposes. He felt like his powers had increased tenfold just by equipping the mask and heightening his senses. Typhos laughed at the absurdity of the strength that he felt. With this kind of power… Nothing will stand in my way. I don’t know why it took me so long to do this.
He grabbed his hood from behind and threw it over his head, further creating the illusion of a mysterious man without any facial features. He raised his hand to cast a lightning spell and said, “Wow,” when he saw an entire storm forming above the sea. He created such a tempest that the waves rolled out and crashed into him. Unlike before, he could see the waves coming and dispersed them before they reached him, keeping him completely dry during his magical maelstrom.
Even better than what my parents could do.
Mom…
The thought killed his focus. Immediately, the storm vanished, and the waves went back to their calm, gently gliding state. But Typhos smiled even with the thoughts of Aida coming back. He had caught a glimpse of what masked, concentrated power could do—if he could keep that focus without the distraction of his family or unsupportive friends, he didn’t think the entire Kastori population could stop him.
I need no one with this.
To his surprise, he sensed someone coming from behind. He turned and saw Pagus approaching. Pagus recoiled at the sight of the mask, which brought a smile to Typhos.
“Typhos?” he asked, unsure.
“Yes,” Typhos said.
“Your voice sounds… different,” he said.
More disturbing? Harder to read?
I like it. Mysterious. I don’t even know how it sounds.
“Uh, dude, can you take that off? It’s creeping me out.”
Typhos considered denying the request and enhancing the haunting image but decided he would at least hear Pagus out. Perhaps he’s come to apologize.
Typhos took off his mask without kneeling and felt woozy as his view of the world shifted from one of energy to the physical one. He wobbled and fell on his butt. Pagus sprinted forward and knelt next to him.
“You all right, man?”
“Uhh,” Typhos said, slowing his breathing so he could regain control. “If you wear a mask, kneel. It changes the senses and can mess you up bad.”
“Duly noted,” Pagus said. “I just wanna make sure, we cool? You seem very distant the last few days. I know we had that argument, but you’re still my best friend.”
Wait a second…
Typhos realized that while he did not need anyone to fulfill his quests, having someone—or more than just one person—by his side would make his journey a
lot easier. I’m not the only one to have expressed frustration at the way the council operates. I’m not the only one who thinks they move too slow or is filled with idiots like Ramadus.
I can persuade them to come to my side, and we can easily crush the council. I won’t need to join them—I’ll just beat them and establish myself as the ideal ruler of the Kastori.
Pagus might take some work with Garron. But…
Hardly any effort for a lot of support.
“Of course, man,” Typhos said. “I just… it’s a rough time for me. I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry, but yes, we’re definitely cool.”
“Good, just making sure,” Pagus said with a smile. “Also, you got some ridiculously strong magic. We could see the storm you brewed from our outpost.”
Excellent.
“Come on, let’s go hunt some ursus. And put that mask away and keep it in your place. You don’t seem Kastori when you wear it. You seem… I don’t wanna know what you seem like.”
That’s the entire point, Pagus.
Thanks for encouraging me to wear it.
25
On the seventh day, as much as Typhos tried to distract himself with hunting and teaching Pagus some of his newfound magic skills, he could not escape the thoughts of his mother returning. When evening came, he retreated to his tent and paced frequently. As much as I feel anger to her… I miss her. I want her back. Mom. Please come back. You said seven days. I know I said plan for ten, but…
He went outside and walked past Pagus, giving a short nod, which Pagus returned with a genuine smile. He’s both an ally you can use and a friend. Remember that, Typhos. Not all people are pawns. Some are friends you can genuinely like.
You gotta get out of your head. Go to Monda or something.
Typhos smiled at his joke, though the meaning of it soon shifted from a joke to a serious thought. After looping around the settlement a few times, he returned to his tent and cooked some stew. As the stew boiled, he sneaked a peek at the emerging stars and resigned himself to more days—if not weeks… or months… or a lifetime—without his mother. Lied to. Again. You can’t trust her—or anyone, save for Pagus, maybe, and even he needs some work.
You’re really on your own now. You decide your fate. When that chair opens for the chief… maybe you don’t get it, but you sure better get that councilor seat.
He silently ate his stew, trying his best to ignore the roaring thoughts in his head but failing nevertheless.
A commotion broke out outside.
Curious, Typhos opened the flap. All of the anger he felt melted away when he saw his mother’s face.
Aida had on unusual clothing—her normal golden robes, which went from head to toe, had disappeared, replaced by a white outfit that went from her neck to just around her knees. But she also had a smile that reflected her relaxed state, and Typhos ran over to her, collapsing in her arms, forgetting all of the anger that he had felt in the past week.
“Mom, Mom,” he said, so overjoyed he lost the ability to speak coherently. “You’re back!”
“I am! It’s good to see you, I missed you so much,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek. “Come, let’s go.”
Eagerly, Typhos guided her to their tent. He could sense everyone watching them, but he wanted no part of anyone other than his Mom, finally back on Anatolus.
“OK, first question,” Typhos said, with a huge grin that he had no plans of getting rid of. “What in the world is that?”
“What, this?” she said, holding the white cloth with her right hand. “It’s clothing from Monda. I figured while I was there I should dress the part.”
“It’s… a bit weird, but it’s you, so it works,” Typhos said.
He shook his head once more, still in disbelief. That, and she proved I can trust her. She’s really here. She said seven days, and… seven days later, she’s back.
“Second question. What was Monda like?”
“Oh, Typhos, it’s wonderful. The land is so pretty and much grander than what we have here. There are forests everywhere, areas where there is nothing but ice—they even have areas called swamps, I don’t know how to describe them. But the people were truly wonderful, the humans.”
“Humans,” Typhos said. Those without magic. Very similar to us, but… how do they live? “What do they eat? Like plants and bugs? Or—”
“No, they have real food. Very similar to ours, in fact. They were so hospitable. They told me I was in the land of the great Emperor Orthran. I tried to play along, not wanting to out myself as being from a different world—though I didn’t do that perfectly—and was just in awe of how friendly they are. It reminded me of us.”
“Wow, that’s cool,” Typhos said, now curious himself to see the world. “How do they live?”
“Technology, or machines,” she said. “Essentially, they build these great machines to travel, to live, and to accomplish many tasks. Oh, Typhos, it was unbelievable. They have houses that aren’t tents like ours, but are made of metals and wood and other material which are supposed to stand the test of time.”
“But doesn’t that chain them to one place at a time?” Typhos said. And how do they eat if they’re boarded up in one place all the time?
“Oh, no, see, they dwell in multiple places at once. Some for work, some for fun, some for living, and—”
“That seems unnecessary,” Typhos said with a laugh.
“Well, they might see us as simple. In fact, when I told my man—”
What. What!
“Your man?” Typhos asked, suspicion in his voice.
“Oh, that man,” his mother swooned with surprising emotion. “He’s such a kind man, Typhos. He worked for the emperor, and he met me while I was wandering the streets of their big city. He talked to me some and invited me for a meal, which I accepted. We talked some more and, well, we just kind of fell in love. If I’m very honest, Typhos, he was exactly what I needed. He helped comfort me, he helped me see that there was life beyond Adanus, and he helped me become a better mother.”
I don’t think I need you to be totally honest, Mom.
“But even though I thought he was fantastic, I told him that I had you back here, and that I wasn’t going to leave you.”
“Wait,” Typhos said, catching his mother in a statement he had to explore. “You told a human about Anatolus? About us? The Kastori?”
“He knew already,” his mother said, which shocked Typhos even further. “Their technology knows of other worlds, including ours. They are far, too far away to travel here promptly, so we would know if they ever came here.”
Good. Last thing we need on this world is some alien race affecting how we live here.
But if we’ve gone there…
“Have any ever come here?”
His mother shook her head after some thought.
“Not that I know of. My impression is that we know of each other, but only because of our magic can we visit them. I’m not sure they would want to visit here either. Not much for them to see.”
“Good,” Typhos said emphatically. “This is our planet, and I don’t want humans and their ways coming here.”
“It’s OK, that won’t happen,” Aida said with a smile. She went over and squeezed Typhos tightly, followed by another kiss. “I’m still in pleasant shock that I’m back here with you. I’m so happy we’re together.”
“Likewise,” Typhos said.
Likewise. I feel so good. So much better.
“It’s funny, the way you’re talking about Monda, maybe we should both move there!”
His mother let out a laugh, but one that seemed more agreeing than appreciative of the joke.
“Yeah,” she said yearningly.
26
One month later, Typhos woke up with a cheerful demeanor as he heard the footsteps of his mother coming to kiss him on the cheek. He enjoyed these mornings, the ones where she seemed present instead of in memories of Monda. He stood up and walked over to the soup, which hi
s mother had prepared in a matter of minutes.
“Any plans for today?” Aida asked, bringing a knowing smile to Typhos.
“I mean, it’s the council’s day off, so I think I’m going to spend it with the chief.”
She laughed gently as she took a long, pleasant sip of her soup.
“So, not to kill the good mood, but I do want to know, did you ever apologize to the councilors for your actions a month ago?”
I… be honest, Typhos. Be real.
“No,” he said, feeling the sting in his voice.
“Better late than never, son. Start with Garron since he’s closest, but I would go and apologize to everyone you lied to. Ramadus, Fargus, Amelia.”
Typhos could handle Amelia. He dreaded facing Fargus. He didn’t think Ramadus would even remember what Typhos needed to apologize for.
“I will,” he said.
“I would do so today. You don’t know when you can catch all of the council off again like this.”
Typhos thought for a half-second about pushing back but realized the truth of his mother’s statement. He hustled outside and headed straight for Garron’s tent.
“Garron?” Typhos said as he slowly lifted the flap. Inside, Garron and Pagus sat discussing something humorous.
“Typhos, join,” Garron said, opening his hand in invitation.
“I actually came to just say something really quick,” he said. He looked to Pagus, whose eyes expressed curiosity and a bit of anxiety. “Garron, I’m sorry for lying to you about Fargus. I should not have done that, and it brought shame to me and my mother. I am sorry for deceiving you.”
Garron nodded with an emerging smile. Pagus looked relieved.
“It’s OK, Typhos. As long as you continue to learn, the council will look past your mistake, and you will have a good chance of getting what you want.”
Chance?
“With that said, I do think there’s someone whom you should apologize to more urgently.”
“I know,” Typhos said, already backing out of the tent. “I’m on my way to see Fargus. But just wanted to drop by you guys first.”
Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3) Page 12