Kastori Devastations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 2) (25 page)

“Commander Crystil Bradford,” Trista said, giving a quick bow. “You made it back here.”

“I did.”

“And, ma’am, I’m sorry to say, but I feel like you abandoned us.”

“She did!” said one of the soldiers she did not recognize. “She flew off with the other ships.”

This is what I come home to?

“Guys, first, I was ordered by Emperor Orthran, may he rest in peace, to protect Cyrus and Celeste on their new world. I had no choice.”

“That’s convenient since he’s not here,” the unknown soldier said, causing Crystil’s anger to boil.

“Do you really think I would lie as a soldier in the Imperial Army to a fellow soldier?” she said, her voice returning to the cold, cruel tone she’d adopted in space with Cyrus.
He’s worse than Cyrus. Cyrus jokingly fought back. He’s really fighting back.

“I believe you, Crystil,” Trista said. “But then… why did you leave? And why did you come back?”

“For largely the same reason. To protect the children of Emperor Orthran. Including the one held captive right now.”

“Celeste,” Trista said with a gasp, and Crystil nodded.

“This is crazy,” the nuisance of a young soldier said. “She could have kept her duty. Her—”

“Enough!”

The man avoiding Crystil spoke. His voice sounded incredibly familiar to Crystil.

When everyone parted, Crystil struggled to place him. He had many facial scars, and looked wearied from the toll of war. But he had deep blue eyes that conveyed both a strong fire and compassion to her. Those eyes…

No way.

“She went to Anatolus with Celeste and Cyrus because I commanded her to protect my children.”

 

 

 

 

52

We’re wasting time. The longer we spend making friends—I don’t care how armed they are—the less time we have to get Celeste. We have what we need.

Cyrus watched in frustration as Crystil communicated with the humans.
Just a couple weeks ago she was saying how useless she was. Now she wants to add people without swords who would be useless in battle?

“Take the help where you can get it, Cyrus,” Erda mumbled. “They just eliminated the wall patrol here.”

“An elimination which we could have easily handled ourselves. We’d be in the palace by now, going to Celeste, if not for this distraction.”

“It’s not a distraction, Cyrus. Place these humans on the wall instead of the Kastori, and suddenly, we are protected from outside threats.”

She has a point. But why would she want them? The humans will want to kill her.

But Cyrus said nothing. Crystil hugged one of the men tightly, which Cyrus found touching and annoying.
We’re going to spend even more time out here. Really wish I could communicate to Crystil right now.

“Honestly surprised they haven’t shot you yet,” Cyrus said.

“They may hate me, but they know I’m useful. If they are soldiers and not deranged—which seems likely, given Crystil—they won’t kill what they can use. It’s like Typhos.”

She sighed as she said that, and Cyrus felt an odd sadness from her at that moment. He turned to comfort Erda but heard the sounds of Crystil’s footsteps. He turned and saw an unusual expression on her face—uncontrollable giddiness.

Without a word, she grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the soldiers.

“What are you doing?”

“You won’t believe it if I told you, so I’m going to show you,” she said.

She stopped feet before the soldiers, and they all parted to show one man. One man whom, even though he looked different than he did two and a half years ago, Cyrus immediately recognized by his eyes.

“Pops,” he said in disbelief.

“Cyrus,” Emperor Orthran said, his smile widening.

“Pops!”

Cyrus ran forward and squeezed his father.
Alive. He’s alive. He’s real. He survived. I…

Rarely speechless, Cyrus found himself tongue-tied. He fell into the emotion of the moment, a mixture of unbelievable joy at seeing him again, sadness at having left him to suffer on Monda, and relief that his home planet could indeed be called home.

“Pops! My… wow, I don’t believe it. You’re here. You’re alive. A little underdressed for an emperor, but alive.”

“It’s good to see you haven’t changed, son,” Emperor Orthran said with a laugh.

“But… how?”

“Typhos has a mean streak,” he said. “He was about to kill me, but decided it was better if I returned to the world as a mere slave. I couldn’t keep my name, and was told if I revealed my identity to anyone, he’d kill me and everyone at the camp in the most inhumane way he could think of. Everyone here just learned a few moments ago.”

I…

“Tell me the story, Pops. Quickly.”

His father nodded in understanding and turned to face the group.

“The explosion which you saw from space, after we launched our fifty ships, was not nearly as bad as it might have looked, at least for the ground forces. It was designed to annihilate our air forces, and unfortunately, it succeeded. Anything that was flying at that moment was destroyed, and all of our fighters perished in the fire. Debris reigned from the sky, but as you know, I was safe in a bunker. Safe, however, was relative. We were deep in the palace, but they had already breached the place, and with their sensing powers, they got to us quickly. Right before they did, five of my soldiers prepared to ambush the incoming Kastori but were quickly annihilated. I assumed my end was coming when I saw of Typhos approaching. He mocked me for letting my people flee. I asked him if he wanted this, a planet full of ash, storms, and death, and he seemed… he actually seemed disappointed before he laughed at me. He said he had no use for me, and took out his sword.”

Cyrus gulped as he tried to imagine the scene
.

“He brought his sword inches from my neck, so close that, at times, he scratched it. He found it funny and asked if I thought he was cruel. I said nothing, and he talked to me about how he wanted to inflict the kind of pain on the world that he had suffered. I asked why this world, and he simply said it was personal. He said an emperor’s downfall should not be a quiet event, and so he paraded me around Capital City in chains and rags. I can still feel the chaffing of metal and the force of magic binding my hands together behind my back. I was jeered at by the magicologists. Humans were forced to yell at me too, or they were savagely beaten. I saw the faces of many people who had served me or whom I had worked with, and though I knew none of them meant their taunts, it hurt all the same. I kept my head down and just walked as commanded.”

“But Celeste said she saw your death,” Cyrus said, his voice shaky from the vivid details.

“It was close,” the Emperor said. “He brought me to my throne room and said that I should bow before him. I said I never would, and he brutally beat me and brought me to my knees. He prepared to kill me and had his sword over me, and even nicked my back, but pulled back at the last second. I thought he was torturing me, but he had instead made a last second decision. He told me he would let me live with the knowledge that I had failed, but not with the perks of being an emperor. He scarred my face and told me I could never reveal my identity to anyone. If not for that threat, I probably would have just chosen death.”

Cyrus looked at the shocked troops.

“I see it now,” one of them said. “But I just never thought it possible.”

“That was by design, Lance,” Cyrus’ father said. “I had a few people say I looked like the emperor, but I just said I was a look-alike. But now that Typhos is gone and we’re preparing to overthrow him—and now that you and Crystil are here, and we’re about to save Celeste—I wanted to battle with you guys as a father and your leader rather than as a puppet.”

Cyrus still couldn’t believe it. He looked at Crystil and at his father, not sure what to believe anymore. Crystil was real. He felt his father was there, that this was not a trap.
No, not a trap. Pops wouldn’t act this way if Typhos had created him as an illusion.

“The way you were paraded through the streets…” a female soldier said, bitterness noticeable.

“I should have just said who I was earlier, before we left, but it didn’t occur to me after all this time,” he said. “I’m sorry, to my soldiers. Cyrus, Crystil. Let’s go get Celeste.”

“Definitely,” Cyrus said.

“Wait,” a young soldier said, doubt clear in his voice. “How did you all get here?”

“Erda—”

Cyrus paused.
This is the moment where we figure it out. If they want to help us and can accept it.

“We have assistance. A Kastori transported us here, but it goes beyond that.”

He looked to his father, who didn’t seem surprised.
He knows. Maybe he…

“My sister and I are Kastori.”

 

 

 

 

53

I knew this day would come. When the truth came out. Just handle it well, guys.

Morian fumed as his eyes narrowed.

“It’s a trap,” he said. “We’re being set up by Typhos. The magicologists tricked us again!”

“No,” Cyrus said. “We only recently discovered our powers on Anatolus. Celeste is much stronger than I—that’s why we’re here to rescue her.”

“Celeste is the one who’s going to defeat Typhos and save us all?” Morian said sarcastically. “She can’t even save herself.”

“Morian!” the emperor barked. “Understand this. Not all Kastori are evil, and my daughter has probably encountered many dangers on Anatolus that I would not wish upon even Typhos.”

“Are you a magicologist as well?” Morian asked, suspicion in his voice.

We’re going to fight and kill each other before we even get to the palace.

“No. This discussion is over.”

“Woah!”

“It’s not over!”

“How do we know this isn’t Typhos?”

“It’s the Emperor himself, do you think he would lie?”

“Know your place, Morian!”

“Did you know this, Crystil? Do you know the truth?”

The soldiers bickered amongst themselves, with Lance and Trista taking Emperor Orthran’s side, Ector and Garoth observing silently, and Morian sparring with the energy of six men.
He’s too unstable. I should have known. We can’t take along a zealot.

“Pops,” Cyrus said, and the emperor, relieved to talk to someone who understood him, turned while the rest argued. “Why did you never tell us that we were Kastori?”

“There was no reason to early on. Kastori were just rare visitors, and they never used their magic here. Then the war came, and I didn’t want you two to suffer because of your identity. When I shipped you out, I didn’t want the other actual humans resenting you. I’m sorry, son.”

“No, it’s fine,” Cyrus said reassuringly. “Look at what these fools are doing right now.”

“Enough!” Crystil said, a bit louder than the emperor preferred. “We have Celeste in there, and we are wasting time. Morian, go home.”

“I—”

“Go,” she said with authority even the Emperor would’ve bowed to. Morian shot them all a disgusted look and turned to leave.

“Your weapon,” Crystil said.

Morian groaned loudly and dropped it, not bothering to return it to the men. Lance grabbed it, handing it to Crystil.

“We don’t need fools on our mission,” Crystil said. “I am not interested in having a suicidal maniac with us. If anyone objects, too bad.”

Emperor Orthran caught his son flashing a quick grin, and he knew his son had experienced Crystil at her best.

“Who’s the Kastori, then?” Trista asked, hesitation in her voice.

Crystil looked back to the woman in robes and waved her over. As she approached, Emperor Orthran recognized her immediately.

“I’m Erda, and to answer the question that someone asked earlier, Caius here is not Kastori,” she said.

She locked eyes with Cyrus for a moment, and the emperor knew at that moment the truth passed between them.

“I am. I am the mother of Cyrus and Celeste.”

 

 

 

 

54

Cyrus heard the murmurs through the crowd, and the sound of Erda’s voice reached his ears, but he didn’t process what she’d actually said. Instead, he thought about all of the time he’d spent with her, his mother, never connecting the dots together.

If only I’d thought more of my early childhood. If only I’d listened to her more carefully. If only…

Hurt and with too much frustration going through him, he walked a couple of steps away from the crowd as she continued to speak. He looked down at the ground, wondering when the revelations would stop and when he’d see Celeste.

“Cyrus,” the one still-comforting female voice in the crowd said. Crystil placed her hand on his left shoulder. “Celeste.”

Say no more.

“Get them ready. We’ll deal with this later.”

You got this. You’re better than any of these soldiers. Line them up and let’s get Celeste.

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