Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3)

BOOK: Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3)
3.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Contents

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

Epilogue

Preview of "Kastori Restorations"

Thank You

Bibliography

Copyright

 

 

 

 

Dedication

To my bosses during my internship at the
News & Observer
, for teaching me the value of slowing down and writing by hand.

 

 

 

 

1

“There’s no place for you to run to now, Erda,” Typhos said, treating the name as the foulest thing he’d ever said. “You can’t retreat to Monda. You can’t pity your way into my sympathy. You have no lying husband to throw yourself into. You have no son who will love you. You’re done.”

His mother said nothing, instead looking at him… warmly? Coldly? Sadly? Even with his red magic, Typhos couldn’t quite decipher her. The sadness he had seen in her eyes had vanished for a complex look he could not place.

It infuriated him.

“Do you know what you’ve done to me the last few years?” Typhos said with creeping sadness. “Do you see what I have become because of you? Do you sense how many people have died because of the darkness your absence instilled inside of me? Do you see how much suffering I have experienced?”

Erda said nothing, but this time, the expression on her face reverted to sadness.

“Of course you don’t. You’ve always lived for yourself. You never loved me.”

“Don’t say that,” Erda said. “Typhos…”

Hearing his name from his mother sparked rage in him. He walked toward her, ready to hit her. At the last second, he instead brushed by her, his robes colliding with hers, as he grabbed the sword from the black statue. He held the long blade, with the sharpest edges he had ever felt and a black emerald in the hilt, and swung it with ease. He brought it to her, with only unbridled anger guiding him.

“I’m sorry. I have always loved you and still do. But I know nothing I can say will matter.”

Typhos paused, the sword close enough to strike her.
Nothing you say will matter. Just like everything you said to me in my childhood.

“You have that right. You ruined me! You left me to turn into this! And now, because of you, your council is dead. Ramadus is dead. Fargus is dead. Garron is dead. All at my hand. Your white magic council members would be wise to hide, because… because they’re going to be joining the others. Just like you are now!”

To Typhos’ surprise, his mother never once stopped him. She seemed accepting—
almost embracing—
of her fate.

“I knew this was coming,” Erda said without pleading. “As soon as I sensed that you had killed Ramadus, I knew that I had lost you. There is nothing that I can do to bring back the cheerful boy that I still love and know is in you somewhere. The man I look at now is not my son, but the body of my son inhabited by a dark spirit. I acknowledge that we, as a council, and I, as your mother, failed to help. I always thought you would turn into a great man. But I did not do my part.”

Typhos bit his lip as he raised the sword but, without thinking about it, took two steps backward.

“Typhos, understand, I have failed you in many ways. Many, many ways. But if I had not gone to Monda, I would have failed others in even worse ways. Someone had to suffer, and I believed you would best handle it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Typhos spat.

“You know you’re not my only son. You know that if I had raised him here, away from his father and his home—”

“Oh, I know, Erda, I most certainly know,” Typhos growled. “And I’m going to make a promise that I know I will keep. I will kill the other son. I don’t know when. But I will. I am your only son. Not the offspring of some human.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Erda cried, the most emotional she had gotten.

“Watch me,” Typhos sneered. “And Monda’s going to face just as much death as the boy is.”

Trick is finding that boy. I can’t sense humans like I can sense Kastori.

But he’s got some Kastori blood in him.

As long as it’s not repressed.

You know killing him won’t really help.

No. It will. It has to!

“Why?!? Typhos, stop! Please! I am begging you! End the death, end the madness!”

“End it?” Typhos said with a sinister laugh. “OK, fine. I’ll end it.”

He retook his two steps forward and held the blade aloft.

“Right after I kill you.”

He swung his sword down.

 

 

 

 

2

Five Years Earlier

 

Resting on a tree branch about thirty feet up, with a quick spell making him invisible to cursory sense magic, Typhos watched with glee at the scene below. An ursus, with its teeth bared and its steps silent, slowly approached Pagus, unsuspecting and distracted by particularly beautiful plants near the forest.

All in line with what I expected. Just turn around, scream for your life, and run like the little coward that you are. Just… turn… around…

Ugh, Pagus. Come on.

How long can you stay there? It’s just plants, you’ve seen it a million times. C’mon, turn around…

Typhos raised his hand, preparing to cast a powerful lightning spell to turn the young boy around and face his worst fear. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the techniques he had taught himself to produce magic faster. He felt the energy course through him and reach his right wrist.

And right before the first spark jumped out, he stopped.

It’ll be so much more fun if you can just wait. He’ll turn. He’s not going to watch forever.

I think.

“Come on,” Typhos mumbled, his voice rising to a higher level than he intended. Pagus, still crouched, froze.
That’s it. Turn, turn, turn. Just don’t see me in doing it. You shouldn’t. Hope I didn’t speak too loudly.

Come on Pagus. Turn!

But Pagus never did turn, instead resuming his study.
I swear he really knows.

The ursus was now so close that if Pagus stretched his arms back, his hand would graze an incisor of the beast.

That’s it. I’m done. Time to get it, Pagus.

Typhos pushed the ursus forward with enough force that it caused Pagus to stumble. Pagus grumbled, turned around, screamed, and smacked the ursus in the face. Typhos laughed so hard he came to the verge of tears.

“Really, again!” Pagus yelled, looking in all directions. “Good grief Typhos, OK, you got me, I was scared. I get it! It’s funny, haha, you know I’m afraid of an ursus creeping up behind me like most Kastori.”

“Oh man, you should have seen your face and heard your screaming, it sounded like Reya,” Typhos said in between bouts of laughs and gasps. “Beware of Typhos, the great prankster!”

With that, the fourteen-year old boy slowly descended from his perch, taking care to wait for the shaking to stop before he climbed down from one thin branch to the next. At the last branch, he leaped down about ten feet in front of his best friend. The boy with deep-red, floppy hair, and piercing blue eyes gave his eternal cocky smile—one that expressed both his need for attention and masked the lack of it at the place he wanted it the most. He rose from his crouch as he dusted himself off, and approached the black boy with brown eyes with a casual shrug.

“You have the gift of gab, I have the gift of humor,” Typhos said as he patted his friend on the arm firmly.

“No, you have the gift of terrifying magic like no other,” Pagus said, finally able to smile. “I’d be using it all day to charm the girls in our class. Reya, Hanna, all those ladies? Oh, man.”

Typhos shook his head in disagreement.
That’s just cheating. I got the confidence anyways.

Well, for most of them.

“My magic’s getting used to become chief when I’m older,” Typhos said, his voice boastful. “And when I’m chief, I’m gonna lead us to great heights and the Kastori will never face any problems again. No one will die, and we will spread across the universe. And, on top of that, I won’t have to charm girls, because girls will try and charm me.”

“Yeah, sorry, but no girl is gonna charm a fifty-year old who is probably married by that point.”

“Who said I would have to wait until fifty?”

Pagus’ face went from appreciative to on guard.

“Council tradition and how things are likely to go,” Pagus said cooly. “Slow down, man. Your mom’s pretty young, relatively to past chiefs. I don’t think she’s gonna pull what your dad did so you can become chief. She’s gonna be there a while. Besides, you gotta get on the council too.”

Typhos sighed.
Only so I could see my parents more often than I do now. I could leap the process if I wanted to.

“Patience, brother, patience. And humility,” Pagus said. “Or just scare them all by putting ursuses in front of their tents.”

“I think Fargus and my parents would literally see right through that.”

“Then you’re screwed,” Pagus deadpanned, drawing a laugh from even the overly ambitious Typhos. “And you wouldn’t do it to my Dad.”

“I mean, to scare him alone, sitting in there…”

But Typhos stopped, seeing the humor evaporate quickly. Both boys remembered the loss of Pagus’ mother, and even Typhos shuddered at what had happened.
Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“C’mon, it’ll be dinner time soon,” Pagus said, quickly changing the subject. “Let’s go get food.”

“No more pranks?”

“I think I’ll take well-cooked precora from my Dad before I take a well-planned prank from you,” Pagus said with a wink and a hand on Typhos’ back.

“But the ursus—” Typhos said, looking back.

Pagus waved his hand dismissively, leaving the young boy in disbelief.
Best food in the land!

“You eat ursus every night, and guess what ursus becomes?”

Typhos shrugged, not caring to indulge his buddy in a rhetorical questions.

“Routine. And ursus should be far from routine. It should be luxury. Besides, I’ve seen your cooking.”

Typhos’ eyes went wide as Pagus laughed, but Typhos had no retort, knowing the accuracy of Pagus’ subtle jab.
Someday it won’t matter. My magic will be better than anyone’s cooking.

The two boys continued their bantering about girls, food, and pranks for the next half hour as they walked from the outskirts of the forest, filled with tall trees, freshly blooming green leaves, and troves of wildlife, to the hill at the base of Mount Ardor. The hill provided a nice chance for exercise as it ascended at a constant slope for a few hundred feet before coming to the flat land that housed about six different tents. One of them belonged to the family of Typhos; the family of Pagus owned one; one was the property of a white magic council member, Lyos; and the other three belonged to Kastori who taught magic classes. Halfway up the hill, Typhos looked back at the pack of tents just at the base of Mount Ardor—the area which housed all the remaining council members except Fargus, who loved to live in isolation, and the remaining high-class Kastori—and wished his parents, for their role as chief and retired chief, had picked a similar place.

Other books

Black Angels by Linda Beatrice Brown
So Many Roads by David Browne
Traveler of the Century by Andrés Neuman
Chris Mitchell by Cast Member Confidential: A Disneyfied Memoir
Will.i.am by Danny White
Godiva: Unbridled by Dare, Jenny