Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4) (10 page)

I’m something more. I’m…

The platform slowed before she could finish her thoughts. A giant cavern appeared, reminding her of the cave where she had encountered the lupi clan on Anatolus. The symbol appeared on the ceiling, so massive a symbol that it was probably bigger than
Omega One
was
.
The rest of the cavern looked remarkably clear and clean, with ice on the walls, solid rock on the ground, and a perfectly spherical shape forming it.

“Welcome, Celeste
,” a voice said in her head.

“Vostoka?”
she asked. The voice came to her in a different way than most telepathic communication had. This one seemed universal, not from an exact location.

“Yes. Celeste, you have reached a place no one else has. I have guarded this core with great care, making sure that most who approach do not come in, and that those who do come in do not survive the entrance. But I sense your soul, and I sense your heart, and I know that you have benevolent intentions. I have chosen you and you alone to give my power so that you may stand a chance of defeating the great evil.”

“My brother. Typhos.”

A pause came.

“Yes. I am the source of the greatest white magic. I can counteract the black magic which your brother absorbed, and you can end the suffering he has brought. I can give you the greatest white magic in the universe.”

15

Even though Celeste knew why she had come and she knew what would happen, she still felt tremendous awe.
The entire planet, granting me its power. The entire world is speaking to me. The greatest known magic in the universe…

“Typhos destroyed one of my fellow celestial beings. I know you were there to witness that fateful day when Nubia fell. Nubia cried out to Tapuya and me to grant you our powers if you made it in time. Your brother did not just absorb the entire planet’s power. He destroyed it. The amount of energy he absorbed nearly killed him, and even though it did not, it has left him incapacitated. Observe.”

An image appeared before Celeste. On it, she saw Typhos squirming in agony on the peak of Anatolus. He lost control of his power, and his magic brought about terrifying destruction to Anatolus, destroying much of the forest and the wildlife on the continent.

Time shifted forward to what looked like the present day. Typhos struggled to rise, falling to his knees as he attempted to walk.

“Though he has gained significant black magical powers, he is physically weakened and will remain this way for at least several more days.”

“Will I be as physically incapacitated if I take your magic?”

“You will suffer some. But if you do not destroy me, your recovery time will be much faster.”

The image disappeared, and Celeste nodded. In that weakened state, he looked like he needed help as much as ever. Celeste knew his greatest battle came not with his body but with his mind, but if she got the chance to see him soon…

“I must warn you before you take my power, however, that the amount of magic you absorb will be intense and extreme. You will feel physically sick, and only able to cast magic in that time. You will be useless with a sword. Additionally, many Kastori who gained too much power too quickly went mad. The odds that Typhos has become even more warped after the destruction of Nubia are high. I cannot guarantee you will not meet the same fate.”

“I know. But I know what my goals are. Those will not change.”

“I must still warn you all the same. With that in mind, do you wish to have the ultimate power of mine? The white magic which can heal anything, and do just about anything except bringing the dead back to life?”

Celeste paused to consider her options. If it was indeed too much magic, she didn’t think she would become evil and belligerent. But she did fear becoming useless in the fight for Typhos, leaving it up to the society of Monda, Crystil, and Cyrus—sides which had already shown they could not defeat Typhos.

She saw no choice.

“I am ready. I wish to have your power.”

“Good.”

Suddenly, a crisp cold air rushed past Celeste, but unlike most winds, this one felt sharp, like a sword of wind rushing into her. It did not feel painful, but it brought back the memories of staring at Typhos’ blade as it pierced her chest. Then the surge of energy rushed into Celeste, bringing her to her knees and then her back as her body shook. The energy she received crushed what she had felt after taking the power of Calypsius. This threatened to make her lose consciousness, so great was the energy and pain.

“Stay strong, Celeste. It is going to get worse. You must stay strong.”

Celeste screamed as her legs kicked and her arms flailed, the magic in her overpowering. She caught glimpses of what she could soon do—the ability to heal wounds on the spot; the ability to erect a barrier that deflected all magic without a weapon; the ability to enhance a person’s magical and physical abilities; and, perhaps most importantly, the ability to use healing magic as a weapon, to purge the cancer of evil inside the enemies.

Such magic seemed impossible to her even an hour ago, but now that she saw it, she began to see it as the perfect compliment to the power Typhos had absorbed. She could fight back against just about anything he threw her way, and she felt the power to fight enemies far bigger and stronger than her. She could not just defeat Typhos, she could do what she had always hoped was possible—save him from himself and turn him into an agent for peace.

She screamed as another surge of energy came in.

“The greatest of my power is coming through to you, Celeste. It is my strength. You must not surrender to the pain.”

Suddenly, Celeste saw the ability to reverse the aging process—the ability for a person to heal oneself by going back to the point where they were stronger. It hit a point—once the person reached their strongest time, they could not go any further—but it worked, and it worked for a significant period of time. The regeneration ability, to go beyond just healing wounds, but making a healthy body more powerful, would surely prove critical in battle.

The surge of energy that came from that spell was so great and powerful that she briefly felt herself losing consciousness, going blind, deaf and weak to the touch all at once. But then the pain was over, and Celeste regained her senses.

She laid on her back, looking up at the ceiling, panting. She was exhausted, and when she tried to move, she felt so weakened that she had to lean against the wall to remain upright. Though learning the magic had greatly increased her power, at the moment, the exertion to take on the new magic had essentially crippled her.

“It is done,”
Vostoka said.
“You have the greatest known power of healing in the universe. Understand, this is just the current known peak of powers. You may yet unlock greater magic. You are young, you have strong ideals, and you have great determination. But for right now, know that no one has the magical skills that you have.”

Celeste slowly pushed off the wall, walking with legs that trembled but did not falter.
I am as close to the savior as there is. I can save people far longer than they ever should live. I can save…

I can save Typhos.

I have that power.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice weakened but sturdy. “But will you die?”

“No. My rotation will lengthen, and my power will not be as intense. The cold will not be as extreme, and the winds will not blow as they once did. But I will survive. Now, go. Cyrus is waiting for you.”

She felt the planet teleporting her. She closed her eyes, focusing on maintaining an upright position. Then she felt the new air around her. The air had indeed warmed, though the planet still remained cold. She opened her eyes and saw Cyrus standing about ten feet from her.

“Celeste,” he said, in awe.

“I did it,” she said.

Her vision faded, and she collapsed to the ground.

16

“Celeste!” Cyrus cried as he sprinted toward his sister, sliding in the snow as he fell to his knees in front of her. “Hey! Hey! Come on!”

“Easy,” she said, her voice weak but alert.

“Oh, whew, I was actually panicking there for a moment,” Cyrus said with a laugh that masked his fear.

He grabbed her arm and lifted her up. Unable to stand on her own, she swung her right arm around Cyrus’ shoulders, who took a deep breath and dragged her forward.
Whatever she did, it worked.

The planet no longer felt like the inside of a glacier.
Though still chilly, Cyrus shed the layer of clothing Novus had given him earlier. He sweat and his muscles burned as he carried Celeste back through the planet. The sharp, cutting winds had also died completely.

“You know, it’s not every day that you get a free ride back home,” Cyrus said.

“It’s not every day that I get the power of a planet,” Celeste said, seemingly not in the mood to joke.

Cyrus turned to her to retort but paused when he saw the green glow within the iris of her eyes, flowing like a whirlpool. He cast a brief concentration spell and had to stop when the intensity of magic coursing through her body overwhelmed him.
She’s like a deity now. She’s… she’s the savior of humanity at this point.

“Seriously, are you OK?” Cyrus asked.

“Tired,” she said. “But I’ll be fine. The magic in that room… it was just… I’ve never seen anything like it. It nearly killed me, getting that power. But I did it. And we can save Typhos.”

We can stop Typhos. What we do after that… we’ll figure out when we cross that bridge. But we’re not just going to “save him.” He’s killed too many to guarantee that outcome.

Cyrus did not verbalize his thoughts, instead focusing on taking the next step back to the base. As he trudged forward, his thoughts raced ahead to what he had to do next.
Return to Monda. Let Celeste recover. Beat Typhos to Tapuya. Typhos… it’s only been a day but knowing him… he’d rather be on the brink of death with that planet than wait. We have to hurry.

“How long do you think you’ll need until you can teleport us back to Monda?” Cyrus asked. “You know we’ll need to get to Tapuya before Typhos.”

“I know,” Celeste said. “But right now… I’m just so tired. I just want to sleep.”

“Then we’ll sleep tonight. You can just send me to Tapuya yourself if you want. That way I can get its power, and—”

“Cyrus,” she said, her soft words stopping him cold. “You know that can’t happen. This planet stopped you because you weren’t chosen. I suspect it will be the same on Tapuya.”

No. No. Celeste is strong with white magic. I can handle that. But I…

He dropped his sister gently to the ground and sat by her. He crossed his arms over his knees, searching for the right words to express his frustration without dipping into anger.
You can’t do anything about it. When you get to Tapuya, you support her as best as you can. Remember what’s most important. Are you fighting because you want to be the hero in the story, or because you want to save Monda and bring peace?

You know the answer. So follow the actions to that answer.

“It’s a good thing you aren’t like this,” Celeste said, her voice slowly gaining strength. “Do you know how tired I am? Do you know how little I am looking forward to having to fight Typhos? I don’t want to die. I know there’s that chance when I face him.”

You’re not dying.

But she could.

It’s weird. We just progress, thinking that we have a job to do. But we never really think we could die—we never really, truly comprehend it—until one of us is about to die.

At least, I do. She’s probably different.

“Is it something you worry about?” Cyrus asked.

“It comes and goes. When we went to Nubia, I didn’t really think about it. But taking Vostoka’s power, weakening me as much as it has… I’m not going to die here. But it does make you realize how dying isn’t a noble goal in battle. It’s a tragic outcome.”

“Well,” Cyrus said as he stood back up, eager to continue walking back with the sun still up—no matter how much warmer night might be now. “Your big brother isn’t going to let anything happen to you as long as I’m here. So we’re going to take you back to the outpost, and I’m going to protect you against Novus and anyone else.”

“Thanks,” Celeste said, closing her eyes.

Cyrus carried his sister on his shoulders for the next several hours, ignoring the hunger and dehydration ravaging him. Though he did not stumble, at several points, he nearly lost his balance and paused to collect himself. Night came just a couple of miles outside of the home—so close that Cyrus could make out the building—but it did not bring the fatal freezing temperatures of the night before. Cyrus wished he had the clothing Novus had given him, but it would have merely made him perfectly comfortable instead of comfortable enough. He could admire the bright stars and green aurora without fearing for his survival.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Celeste said.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be asleep,” Cyrus said with a laugh.

“I can’t when I see we’re almost home.”