Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3) (3 page)

Rarely is, really.

“Adanus, it’s getting worse,” his mother said, 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.”

Ariana 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.

“Someday, Typhos, you’re going to run into something where you can’t just dance your way to victory,” Tara said. “And when that day comes, I hope you know how to concentrate.”

“I think I just proved that.”

“Showmanship is the opposite of concentration, boy,” she said, her anger palpable. “Our magic is a last resort, used only when we need it, not when we want it. It is something to be utilized economically, for too much magic drains energy and weakens the mind.”

“To most Kastori, maybe.”

A few of the students laughed, but Typhos had sensed he was crossing over into perceived arrogance. He deliberately chose to stop himself, dropping his smirk and adopting a serious expression.

“If you hope to become the chief of the Kastori, boy, as many people say you will be, and as you so obviously desire, then you should begin to learn these lessons now before our race is led by a clown. You pass. Take a seat.”

Typhos did so, his face shifting to raw anger when he got out of sight.
How dare she. Call me out like that. Call me a boy, call me a clown. Screw her. I haven’t learned anything that I didn’t know beforehand. I don’t need her.

He took his place beside Ariana, who gently put her hand on his arm, beneath where Tara could see it. He looked at her, and her face said it all.

“I support you,”
Ariana said telepathically. Typhos nodded, still fuming but able to smile at her.
At least I still have the support of those who will matter in a decade.

The anger subsided as more of his classmates messaged him, telling him they would support him over some silly grumpy teacher.
Love it. All of these guys on my side. This will work well. Be chief in record time.

Tara resumed her roll call, and most everyone else passed, save for one student whom Typhos knew would never do anything. Pagus tried to match Typhos’ incredible display and came close, casting three spells at once, but could not muster the fourth.

“Ariana, last chance,” Tara said, clearly frustrated with the behavior of the class.

“Reset the mind,”
Typhos messaged her, and she turned and nodded with what Typhos swore was a flirtatious smile.

Ariana got to the front and immediately cast a fire spell. A pause of two seconds came, and an ice block appeared. Typhos knew she would succeed. Sure enough, she finished in twelve seconds, and the class cheered her on. She ran back as Tara told her she had passed and hugged Typhos tightly.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Just glad you passed,”
he messaged her.

The weak student failed once more. Typhos’ mind raced and his heartbeat accelerated, as he knew he was probably a couple of minutes, at most, from breaking free for a month.