Kastori Tribulations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 3) (28 page)

But he climbed the final steps and saw her standing, her head bowed, saddened eyes on her face. Behind her, the black magic statue with the sword he wanted remained. But he couldn’t focus on the sword for long because his mother’s grief-stricken eyes got to him.

No! Focus, Typhos. You know what you are here to do. So do it.

“Erda,” he sneered.

51

Present Day

“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.

But Typhos chopped to the side, the thought of killing his own mother stopping him and making him scream in agony. The rush of memories of better days gave him an emotional moment that he could not ignore.

The times we laughed, as fleeting as they were before I turned fifteen.

Supporting each other at Dad’s funeral.

Leaning on each other after, the stupid quarrels over the council and me shadowing.

I hate it.

But I really don’t.

“I hate you!” Typhos screamed as he slammed the blade into the ground in frustration. “What magic are you using to keep me in line? What?! Tell me!”

“None,” Erda said, a statement Typhos knew was true. “I’m your mother. You’re my son. You’re family. You don’t kill your family. And on top of that, you know you will not advance the people of Anatolus through death, Typhos. Advancing the people by moving to a new planet means nothing if you do not bring with it the ethics and values that the Kastori hold so dear.”

Remember, Typhos, she abandoned you. She left you for another child. This is not the way your mother should act. Thus, she’s not your mother.

Kill her.

“Enough!” Typhos said, and he reached down and pulled the sword out of the ground, holding it to his mother’s face. He held it so close that when he touched it to her cheek, he drew blood. But every time he prepared to swing the sword across her neck or over her head, his muscles became weak, tense, and unable to deliver the mortal blow. He gave up after his third failed attempt to kill her.

“You are lucky I am not strong enough to do what I should,” Typhos said as he held the sword in his hand, gripping it tightly. “But life itself is not the blessing that you think it may be. You will live with the knowledge of what you have done to me and what I have become. And you will live with the knowledge that you abandoned a second son on Monda.”

“Not just…” Erda said, but she suddenly went silent.

“Not just what?” Typhos said mockingly.

His mother did not respond.

“It matters little. The whole planet will soon be engulfed in flames, and whatever other secrets you have there will burn with it or die at this, my new sword. And as for you, even if I cannot kill you, Erda, you will soon live in isolation, on an island of your own, hiding from people who will not have the same holdups about killing you that I mysteriously have. This is on you, Erda. You brought this about.”

“Stop calling me Erda,” she said pleadingly.

“What would you have me call you?”

“The phrase that you always used for me.”

She gulped. Typhos did too.

“Mom.”

Typhos felt sick, and as much as he wanted to kill her, a part of him wanted to toss the sword to the side. Throw the mask off. Heal his wounds. Hug his mother. Go back to the way things were.

“Mom” was a painful word. His rational mind told him that this was an untrustworthy, terrible woman. His emotional mind and heart told him that this was his mother, whom he should love through all things.

“Mom,” he said as if testing the word. It tasted… too sweet with an aftertaste of bitterness. It was a reminder of the good times, yes, but it reminded him of when he cried out her name, begging for her to return, and she never fully did. “No, my mother left me to go to Monda years ago. The woman who stands before me has her body, but not her spirit. You live now, but you should run. Others will not be as weak as I will.”

“Others,” Erda said. “Do you believe they will follow you? Others will know what you’ve done. They will say you kill in rage, that you only seek your own goals. That your own people are mere pawns. And I will warn you, Typhos, you do not have the majority of the Kastori on your side. In fact, you are a small fraction of the population. You would not survive against us if war came.”

“You are so correct,” Typhos said, sneering, though he knew Erda was right.
I have to have something to tilt the battle in my favor. Something that would devastate them
. “But my people are mine because they believe in what I do, not what your pathetic remains of a council do.”

With that, Typhos turned and went to the top of the stairs before turning his head back one last time to look at his mother. It was her—the same eyes. The same facial expression. He shuddered to think of what would have happened if she had laid her hand on him, and he’d felt her… comforting… touch.

“War is coming,” Typhos said. “I will hunt down and annihilate anyone who opposes us. You seem to be the exception for now, but do not assume such luck will continue. Someday I will grow in my resolve enough to kill you, and I will not be so sympathetic when the time comes.”

He teleported down to the outpost, the black magic sword still in his hands and confusion, bitter disappointment, and grief on his mind.

52

A group of Kastori gathered before Typhos, who dwelled in silence before he spoke. He took a few minutes to reflect on his failure and told himself he would not wait for the next time he got a chance to strike at Erda. He raised his hand to speak but paused.

Erda was speaking. And not just to him, but to all Kastori.

“The former savior Typhos has waged war on the council. The council has already lost Ramadus, Garron, and Fargus, and is at risk of losing more. All Kastori, please come to the mountain to defend the council. We must prepare for a long and unfortunate battle as Typhos does not appear willing to surrender at this time.”

So that’s how we’re going to play it, Erda. You’re going to try and draw sympathy from me when I’m in front of you, but you’re going to call and turn everyone else against me.

So be it.

“Kastori!” he yelled, and the crowd cheered. Any residual emotions he was feeling from the encounter with his mother vanished as he faced his supporters with a huge smile on his face.
So much for your plan working, Erda. You failed.

“As you well know, Erda has just sent a message out to the people. She says that a long and unfortunate battle is coming and that I am unwilling to surrender. Well, I’ll tell you this—only one of those is true.”

He gave a dramatic pause. He looked across the crowd and saw the faces of eager young Kastori tired of working under the feet of the older generation.
Use their anger. Turn them into zealots.

“I am not surrendering!”

Everyone cheered, and he held his sword aloft.

“This is the greatest sword of black magic,” Typhos said. “It is one of three great swords, and it is one that will lead us to victory. I am still your savior. I will still lead you to prosperity, great lands, and long lives. However, we do have a battle coming, and unfortunately, there are risks in battle.”

Don’t tell them they will die.

“But I will stand here as your savior and tell you that as long as you avoid dying, I can heal all your wounds.”

I can’t actually do that. But once I get a hold of Amelia and Lyos…

“In time, I will become the savior that you all envision, and that time is not far off. That time will come even sooner as we prepare to win control of Anatolus!”

Hands went up, and triumph began.
Yes. We will win. Yes we can and yes we will. Do you see this, Erda?!?

“Get your rest tonight. Do whatever you want while the sky is still dark. Because at dawn, we march on Mount Ardor. We take out all of the outposts along the way, and if anyone resists us… we will dispose of them.”

The crowd roared once more. Typhos watched with glee at the prospect of doing battle with his allies.
Weak, perhaps. But with my power… I tilt the odds to whichever side I fight for.

“A new age is coming, my friends. An age in which we prosper rapidly and quickly, an age in which I will guide you to. We will not fight forever with violence, but we will always fight to advance ourselves to new worlds and to control all that we sense. This is the age of Typhos!”

53

Typhos rose with a yearning for battle in his heart and envisioned the destruction of numerous enemies in his mind. He shot out of the golden tent, expecting to see his fellow members lined up in rows, waiting for his command.

But when Typhos emerged from the tent, he didn’t see anyone. Frustrated, he looked everywhere he could, wondering if maybe they’d already gone ahead and done their duty.

They had not. With a quick sense spell, Typhos could see everyone remained in their tents. Several had awoken, but none had moved.

“Typhos,” Hanna said.

Typhos turned to the young girl coming from one of the red tents, her eyes tired but sympathetic. His eyes did not have the same level of sympathy.

“Why is everyone not getting ready for battle?” he asked, exasperated.

“The people are scared to fight. No one here has killed anyone.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there,” Typhos said. “Get them up. I will persuade them to—”

“That’s not the only thing,” she said, and Typhos’ eyes went wide. Hanna must have picked up on his nerves because she went over and put a hand on Typhos’ arm. “The council erected a magic-proof poisonous barrier just outside the forest by the mountains. It’s quarantining us from them. They moved everyone to their side of the thicket. It’s a bunch of beautiful flowers, but you can’t burn it.”

“Isolation,” Typhos mumbled.
I could cut through, but they’d just kill me on the spot. I can’t get through there quick enough.

How about that, Erda. You’d rather push me away than fight me.

Well, fine.

If I can’t have this planet…

“Typhos, the council isn’t coming after us,” Hanna said. “They’re essentially giving us this land. No one wants to kill anyone. Can’t we just accept this offering and live here?”

“What?” he said, but his voice didn’t have as much disbelief as it did moments earlier. “We didn’t become organized so that we could let the council still control Anatolus!”

A few other Kastori had emerged from their tents as the voices of Typhos and Hanna carried across the outpost.

“No, but we did become organized so that we could follow you and establish our own rule. And we have that, Typhos. We govern ourselves. Isn’t that enough?”

No. No way. I want this planet. I want my mother gone. I want more worlds. I want more. More!

“For right now,” Typhos said in appeasement of the girl, who somehow had seemed to shrug off his mind spell with ease. “But I am not content to live in just a small section of Anatolus. I want this whole world.”

And if I can’t have this whole world, no one can.

How do you destroy a world when you aren’t strong enough to do it yourself?