Think. Think.
By her estimation, they had less than ten seconds before he would collide with the planet.
You won’t heal him.
Barrier? No.
But barrier, friction…
The thought came so fast and Celeste had so little time that she didn’t even consider the dangers or chances of it working. She looked to Cyrus and cast her strongest magical barrier spell she had, one even more powerful than the one she had cast around the two of them during their battle. Simultaneously, she produced the largest fire she could, one which rose from the planet all the way up to meet Cyrus, pushing the barrier up like a cushion.
If it works, the friction will slow him down, and he can survive. If it doesn’t, then—
Cyrus disappeared from view. Celeste could not hear his impact.
“Cyrus!!”
She sprinted ahead, dousing the fire immediately. All of the snow had melted away, making it easy to find Cyrus, who laid face down on the ground, his body still intact. To the side, the body of the beast lay, shattered into thousands of pieces. At least it kind of worked. Please…
She reached him and felt his body. His leg was broken, his collarbone had shattered, and his right wrist was broken.
But he had a pulse.
“Cyrus!” she shouted.
“Let’s never, ever, ever, ever do that again,” Cyrus said. He tried to roll over, but the pain became so intense that he stopped and swore loudly and repeatedly.
“I can fix this,” Celeste said. “But you’re probably going to want to kick me in the face. Just stay still as best as you can.”
“Lovely,” Cyrus said.
He then screamed at a high pitch as Celeste worked on his leg. She concentrated on mending the bone, bringing it back into the original state. It took about a dozen seconds, but then it stopped, and Cyrus stopped groaning.
“And I really wanted a titanium leg to compliment Crystil,” he muttered. “But… wow, Celeste. It feels great.”
He tried standing up with great caution and did so with ease. He did not grimace. He even jogged forward about ten feet and turned back.
“OK, if this is what taking a planet does, I call Tapuya,” he said with a smirk. “Can you get my wrist and collarbone too?”
Celeste nodded, rising and placing her hands on the injured areas. Each one brought groans and gasps from her brother, but he was fully healed within seconds.
“So the deal is, when we get back to Monda, we’re going to say that I fought the beast while you recovered in bed and that at the last second, you woke up and saved me. Think that’s dramatic enough?”
“What, the real thing isn’t?” Celeste said in disbelief. “You’re crazy. But don’t you ever die on me.”
“What, me? I’m not going to die at the hand of some aviant,” Cyrus said with a snort. “It’s going to take something a lot more powerful than that.”
Celeste smiled and hugged Cyrus, just happy to have him in one piece after being tens of thousands of feet in the sky. Cyrus started to make a smart comment, but Celeste stopped him.
“Thanks,” he said.
Celeste could tell he wanted to say more, but he wisely stopped at the one word. She pulled back and gave an exhausted sigh.
“I think I’m over Vostoka,” she said with a smile. “Teleport back to Monda?”
“Please. I’m sure Typhos sees this,” he said as he raised an obscene gesture to the sky. “And he’s going to be even angrier than before. He’s had time too. We gotta reconvene. Like I said before, I have some people I want to see.”
“Uh huh,” Celeste said with a knowing smirk but added nothing more.
And I have people I need to see.
She closed her eyes, grabbed Cyrus’ arm, and teleported them both to the outside of the warehouse on Monda. She looked up and saw humans and Kastori alike furiously working, moving materials and building more ships. To the far left of the warehouse, three ships stood ready to fly.
“I think Crystil did her job,” Cyrus remarked.
“Just like we did ours,” Celeste said.
22
Crystil lifted a heavy piece of metal toward the base of the newest ship, dropping it to the ground with a thud. Exhausted, she bent over, her hands on her knees, struggling to stay awake with too little sleep and too little food. The thoughts of taking a break constantly crossed her mind, but when she looked at the faces of the Kastori and the humans and remembered the faces of Dyson and Eve, she kept pushing.
She went and grabbed more metal, her legs trembling, carrying it across about a hundred feet toward the ship. She dropped it to the ground and sat down on it, needing at least a few seconds of rest.
But when she did, she saw Cyrus and Celeste returning and entering a private room. I think you can justify a break for this one.
She excused herself from the group and walked with newfound strength in her legs. She peeked into the open door and saw Cyrus and Celeste sitting down, exhausted.
“Mind if I come in?” she asked.
“Only if you don’t mind me never flying one of those ships,” Cyrus said with widened eyes and a smirk.
Crystil, curious, entered, walking slowly and assuming a seat between the two of them after she had given quick hugs to each.
“Let’s just say Typhos decided to test my fear of heights. And when I say heights, I should say a fear of outer space.”
“Oh,” Crystil said, the thoughts of whatever had happened frightening her. Magic and monsters. Two areas I will never be able to understand. Probably for the best. I can still fight them, though, even if I don’t understand them.
Celeste cleared her throat. Crystil looked at her and saw weary but strong eyes. They also seemed to have a different color to them—a hue of green, though her original blue eyes still remained present.
“And the rest of Vostoka? Did you get its power?”
“Oh, she got its power,” Cyrus said. “But her getting its power was the least interesting thing that happened. We met some weirdo named Novus. Claimed he was the last human on Vostoka and that everyone else had left him. We left him, not wanting to die because some lunatic killed us in our sleep. As a result, we had to kill an ursus and sleep in its guts for warmth—you think it’s gross, but it was that or shiver to death. Celeste went and talked to the planet. She became all powerful. We returned and found out Novus was actually a delusional crazy killer. Shocking, right? The person who won’t look you in the eyes and talks about other people being gone turns out to be dangerous. Celeste saved us using her barrier spell. We slept, woke up, fought a giant aviant that looked like Calypsius, I got dropped from about the height of Mount Ardor, survived because of my sister, healed, and here we are.”
Crystil had heard many stories during her time as a soldier, ranging from the clearly fabricated to the real but still unbelievable, but this story seemed to take on a whole new dimension. She almost yearned for the days when it was just her, her ship, and her Emperor when magic didn’t exist. The only reason she believed the story was because she had no choice but to given their circumstances.
“So, in other words, a totally typical day for us.”
Crystil didn’t respond but inside laughed. Funny thing is these days, it kind of is typical.
“Celeste?”
“All true,” she said. “I don’t understand half of it myself. The only thing I understand now is that, fortunately, I have power to neutralize Typhos’ black magic. I don’t know if it’s strong enough to defeat him, but it’s powerful. Powerful enough that I know in his weakened state, he’s not going to come to Monda with me here.”
“That’s encouraging. But aren’t you weakened too?”
“No. Because I didn’t kill the planet,” Celeste said. “I didn’t take as much power as Typhos did. But the differences between what he got and what I got are minuscule.”
Good, Crystil thought, her face remaining like that of the stoic commander. As long as they kept Typhos off Monda
, that gave them the chance to build more ships. Typhos didn’t need to be defeated, but he could not have the first strike.
“I’ll give you my report here,” Crystil said, straightening up in her seat. “We’ve increased our productivity schedule. We have three fighters ready to go. These are fighters that can do things our technology wouldn’t have come up with for centuries, thanks to the Kastori here. They are magic-resistant, have magically-endowed weapons and can maneuver in the air so tightly it would seem impossible. It also helps that we can churn these ships out at about one every day and a half. If we were to run into, say, Calypsius, we would stand a much better chance of winning just based on the agility of the fighters.”
“Excellent,” Celeste said.
“Won’t do much good against Typhos,” Cyrus said. “That’s on us. But you can knock out whatever monsters he sends our way.”
Whatever it takes. I know my role and my duty here. I’m not going to Anatolus.
“The fighters are designed to handle a fire blast from a monster like Calypsius or a lightning strike that downed many of our fighters before we fled to Monda. We are also producing guns that are also magically enhanced and are resistant to red magic. It’s not perfect, but it puts us in a much stronger position than before.”
Crystil firmly believed that they were not only in a much stronger position but that if Calypsius returned, they would defeat it with much greater ease. Though her ships would not have the volume of firepower Omega One did, it would have far more maneuverability. They also had the advantage of knowing what to expect and having greater manpower. In her mind, as long as the Orthrans could defeat Typhos, they could bring peace back to Monda.
As long as they don’t get hurt.
Cyrus.
“How is Pops,” Cyrus said. “Have you seen him since?”
Crystil smiled, both at his question and the timing of it.
“He’s physically fine. I have tried to get him to speak to the people, but he is afraid that they will not like him because of the casualties we suffered. I did my best to explain to him that if anything, the people will want to see him more now from a position of vulnerability, but I’m afraid stubbornness is an Orthran family trait.”
Cyrus laughed and pointed at Crystil with a wide grin.
“We are not stubborn! I will fight to the end to prove that!”
“Case in point,” Crystil said with a wink. “In any case, though, we need a plan. I need it, at least. When will you two leave for Tapuya?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Celeste suddenly interjected with an odd smile that Crystil couldn’t figure out. “I need some rest. Cyrus needs some time for recovery after that disaster on Vostoka. Typhos is not in any shape to go to Tapuya.”
Cyrus shot her a surprised look, but Celeste did not look to her brother. Crystil shrugged, not thinking anything of it.
“Then for the rest of today, I will be working. You two, given your duties, don’t have to work in the warehouse. In fact, I would basically say you are prohibited from doing so. But come and find me if you need anything.”
“We most certainly will,” Celeste said, again with a smile that confused Crystil.
But the commander put it out of her head as she walked out of the room, just happy to have the two of them back alive.
23
When Crystil departed, Cyrus and Celeste took the opportunity to rest. They each took their own rooms—just one of four people in the entire warehouse who had that luxury, along with Crystil and their father—and immediately collapsed on the bed. Though not night yet, with the lack of windows and the barely-bright lights in the room, Celeste felt as though she could easily fall asleep.
She would under most circumstances. But she knew she had found herself in anything but most circumstances. Her mind still wandered to the previous days. She thought of their short time on Nubia—all of the bodies they had bumped into in the hallways of the complex. The data they had collected. Running into Typhos for the first time since he’d left her for dead.
Then she raced to Vostoka, and how they could not do anything for Novus. How much power she’d absorbed. The weak monster Typhos sent.
Weak. Like he… susceptible, perhaps?
His monster was nowhere near what he has produced before. If this is the case, then maybe his mind is not as strong in its belief as before. If ever there is a time outside of battle and having him pinned to get him to change his ways…
She closed her eyes, but not with the purpose of falling asleep. She instead concentrated on Anatolus and saw a thick field of energy around the peak. She said his name.
“Typhos.”
By her vision, it appeared the word bounced off the energy, unable to reach her brother. Determined not to quit, however, she said his name several more times, hopeful that just one would break through and reach him. She said it quickly, she said it with great concentration, and she said it softly. None of it seemed to break through.
But then he walked out of the peak toward the stairs.
“Typhos.”
The word reached him. He paused, looking upward in thought. Then he fell to his knees and bowed his head.
“Celeste. What do you want?”
His voice had an edge, but not the kind of mindless anger that she had come to associate with him. It also sounded weakened. But not as weak as I’d expected.
“I want to talk to you, Typhos. You have the power of Nubia. I have the power of Vostoka. If we fight, we’re just going to draw to a stalemate for the rest of our lives.”
A pause came. Typhos appeared to bob his head, as if in laughter, but Celeste did not hear it.
“That didn’t seem to be the case on Monda.”
“Because your anger got the best of you, Typhos. You are not angry now. And I know what to expect.”
A pause came. Celeste garnered hope from his silence. She had feared that saying he was not angry would produce heavy venom, but it instead seemed to produce deep pondering.
“Why should we keep fighting if this is the case? Why should we bring destruction to each other when we can try and let each other live?”
“Destruction?” Typhos replied, and Celeste swore sadness filled his voice. “I bring destruction because my life is a series of destructive moments. I will bring destruction because I have no choice. If you absorb Tapuya’s power, I am no longer the most powerful being in the universe. I am no longer worthy of the titles I have achieved and strive to achieve.”
That’s what it’s all about, Celeste thought. His past and a future he can never seem to catch.
“You know you don’t have to continue down the path you’ve gone all these years, Typhos. I understand that your past is filled with pain and sorrow. I understand it because I went through the same thing. What happened to you at the hands of Aida is unforgivable. But I know what it’s like. She is my mother too. She abandoned me at my birth. Typhos, you are my brother.”
Even while concentrating on the conversation, Celeste gulped. She didn’t know if he knew, and if he didn’t, she didn’t know how he would react. She could only hope that he would keep their conversation going.
“I know. I’ve known from the day you called her a mother figure in our prison.”
Sorrow filled his voice. Celeste noticed it even cracked when he used the word “mother.”
“The truth of the matter is, Celeste, when I knew I had a sister of some kind, I yearned for her presence. I wanted a stable family member in my life, one whom I would not have to compete with like a brother for attention. In my head, when I arrived on Monda, I thought that if I found you, and you would take me in, you could give me peace. But my anger toward Erda and your brother became too great, and that desire is lost. I only seek to destroy those reminders of my past.”
“You’re looking at it wrong. You look at life through the prism of the pain brought to you, and how you can get rid of that pain. I’m here to tell you to stop doing that. Cyrus and I give you an opportunity to have the fam
ily that you lost at a young age. Yes, there will be some struggle. But we can help you heal. You cannot change the past, as tragic as it is. But you can make the future better.”
Even at the distance the two had, separated by years of space travel and on two separate worlds, Celeste could see the kind of groan Typhos produced. It was a groan designed to stave off tears and to keep an emotional distance from her words.
“I cannot lie, Celeste, I would like to think in those terms. I truly would. My whole life, since the exact day I turned fifteen, has been about getting rid of the pain from my father’s death and my mother’s ugly betrayal. But every time I try peace, someone turns around and rips my peace away. My mother. The old council on Anatolus. And now, whether you like it or not, you and your brother’s presence reminds me every day of my mother and my father. I know that if I surrender and trust you two, you two will betray me.”
“No!” Celeste cried out, but she knew as soon as she spoke she had no way of truly proving it. Only time could prove that—and with a battle looming between Typhos and Monda, with neither side willing to back down, she did not have the time.
“I do not believe you, for no one has ever given me reason to believe them. Even now, the woman whom I fell for as a child serves you.”
Celeste thought about retorting and reminding him why, but she didn’t want him to feel blamed for everything. She wanted him to feel accepted by her. Punishment has to come, but not until we know he is changed.
“And even if I were to believe you, I almost killed you. I would have killed you if not for the sacrifice our mother made… one which should never…”
His voice trailed off, and Celeste went silent. She knew Cyrus would not be so forgiving. Even she shuddered at the memory, often having nightmares about the moment. She did have a part of her that wanted to take the route Cyrus desired, to kill Typhos and end any possibility of a threat once and for all. But she saw possibilities in him, and as long as that existed, she could not let it happen. Only monsters could she kill without thought. She did not consider Typhos a monster—just a man with monstrous tendencies forced upon him by his past.
Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4) Page 10