Kastori Devastations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 2) (4 page)

So what now?

Cyrus?

She looked up at the wall where the mission objectives, once displayed on a computer, had been written on a piece of paper. With so much done by the time the paper was hung, there was only one goal left.

“Continue humanity.”

Noble. But…

Wish I’d included, “Find a way to feel comfortable around the Kastori” and, “Become self-sustaining so we don’t have to rely on the Kastori to survive.”

When she thought of the additional goals, they bugged at her so much, she found a pen and wrote those down. As much as she wanted to be like Cyrus and Celeste, laughing jovially with the Kastori, flirting or joking with Pagus, and able to eat with them, it never felt right. She couldn’t bring herself to fully trust the race responsible for destroying her real home.
What if this outpost decides they don’t like us anymore? What if one of the younger ones is a future Typhos? What if Typhos comes back and the Kastori surrender? Who are we going to rely on then?

Has to be ourselves.

OK, enough, Crystil.

Tired and not feeling motivated to find the Orthran siblings, she headed to her room, her quiet respite where she could read, reflect, and rest. When she slid through the crack the defunct door left open, her eyes went to the same place they always did upon entry—the photo of Dyson, the one she woke up to and the last thing she thought she would see when she fought Calypsius.

The photo showed the two of them on their wedding day, all smiles and joy. At first, the photo had comforted her.

But now, it confused her. She went over to the photo and held it, thoughts sprinting through her head.

Am I allowed to move on? Is Cyrus acceptable? Will he ever be as good as you are? Is there a slim chance you’re still alive? Can I still love you and be with someone else? How can I be as happy now as I was with you?

The commander in her told her to knock off the irrelevant questions. The day would come when she would have to continue humanity, and simple observation told her Cyrus was the only option.
It’s not as bad as an option as it once was. Guy’s got some guts and some perseverance. If not the cockiest attitude I’ve ever run across.

Crystil had learned, though, the commander wasn’t her. It was her job, a small part of her, but not her in her entirety. She was first and foremost a strong woman who had needs and desires that she could not ignore, lest she turn into the cold, bitter, isolated person she was on
Omega One
on their journey to Anatolus. That part of her told her to not move on, that Dyson was the best she’d ever had, and she’d never have anyone like that.

Balancing the two sides became progressively more difficult over time, and it didn’t help that Cyrus had begun making his own moves on her.

I should just go for Pagus to push him away and make all of this a moot point.

She chuckled softly at her own thought, a rare moment of levity when she wasn’t with Celeste or Cyrus.
In time, Crystil, in time. Don’t decide today something that’ll affect you the rest of your life.

Be rational. Wait until the emotions are in line.

She reached down, grabbed the photo, and kissed it. She went to bed, throwing the covers over her, knowing that sooner rather than later, her and Cyrus would probably come to a head, and she’d have to decide if she followed mission orders or her own emotional desires.

6

Cyrus’ heart beat rapidly as he balanced himself on the thin branch, barely able to support his weight. He looked down twenty feet and saw his target.

A live ursus, feeding on some small game.

“Remember, Cyrus, disable it first
,” Celeste said telepathically from some distance away.
“You burn it without keeping it still, and it’s going to turn into a lopsided footrace.”

Cyrus nodded without returning the thought, trapped with his internal monologue.
I’m so in over my head. Never done this before. My magic isn’t good enough. Oh, Celeste, you’d better be ready.

He looked down at the ursus, which didn’t even register his presence. He looked behind him, and he thought he could make out the outlines of Celeste and Erda, but if he needed them, he’d need to sprint like Calypsius was chasing him. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused.

With all of the concentration he could muster, he held the beast in place. Supposedly, he had good red magic and better black magic than his sister.
Supposedly. And potentially. Not right now, though—she should be here.

When he opened his eyes, he had frozen the beast. He could sense it struggling to break free, but he had done it. He had successfully paralyzed an ursus.

“Sweet,” he mumbled.

Carefully, he swung down four levels of branches to the ground and came up to the ursus, still frozen. Smirking, he poked it in the back.

“Hah, dumb ursus,” he said. “You thought it’d be safe to come down from the mountains with Calypsius gone, but no, the Kastori are back, and—”

The ursus suddenly stood up on its hind legs and turnied. Cyrus immediately broke out in a sprint toward Erda and Celeste, waving his hands and calling for help, but the angry roar of the gargantuan beast made it impossible for Cyrus to hear even his own cries. His ears echoed with a faint, high whistle, but his only focus was on his feet—to keep them moving as rapidly as possible.

“Celeste! Erda! Help me!”

He tripped just inches from the two women. He turned around, and to his surprise—which quickly vanished—the beast had become frozen. Erda cast a quick fire spell, and the beast collapsed, charred and dead but hardly cooked.

“Your face,” Celeste said, suddenly bursting out laughing. “I wish I had the magic to record that and watch it on loop because that was golden.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cyrus said dismissively, not caring to dwell on his failure.

“Cyrus, it’s OK,” Erda said, walking to his side. “You shouldn’t be upset. This is all part of the learning process.”

“It’s a process she’s seemed to skip,” Cyrus said, gently elbowing his sister in the side.

“She’s a very powerful Kastori,” Erda said.

Cyrus looked at his sister, who gave a playful nonchalant shrug. Combined with her fake innocent smile, it was enough to send Cyrus from annoyed to truly bothered.
I’ve always been the big brother to her. And now I’m… what, the inferior brother?

“Anyways, Cyrus, we came out on this hunt for your training. Why don’t you show you can lift the ursus?”

Cyrus bit his lip to avoid saying something biting to his sister and focused straight ahead. Frustration and disappointment clouded his mind, but he pushed it aside just long enough to close his eyes and lift the beast up. Performing a red spell so shortly after the paralyzing spell strained him, but he kept it with great effort.

“Now, light it on fire,” Erda said.

Cyrus shifted his mind’s attention to casting a fire spell, but in doing so, he dropped the attention needed to keep the ursus airborne, and the creature fell to the ground.

“Ugh,” Cyrus said loudly. “Sorry, Erda, this… this is just hard.”

“You are too conscious of your casting. It’s a learning process, but you need to learn to cast these spells instinctively and without much thought.”

Need to? Or just don’t want to look like a fool next to Celeste?

Or Crystil?

He looked to Celeste, who said nothing.
Thankfully.
She looked at him amused, but not enough to boil his emotions any further.

“You can try again if you want, Cyrus,” Erda suggested, an offer Cyrus took up immediately.

He tried again but failed once more. He tried a third time, and he managed to produce embers, but nothing more powerful.

“It’s a matter of concentration and effort, Cyrus,” Erda said when Cyrus let the beast fall. “Do not take this the wrong way, but perhaps this doesn’t matter to you.”

“What?!” Cyrus said, more hurt than bothered by Erda’s words.

Of course this matters to me.

“I know you are trying. But why are you trying? To look good to us? Or to the woman you desire?”

Cyrus did his best not to show any reaction, but his sister’s face told him he wasn’t as good at stoicism as he hoped.

“Or to truly harness your power for the appropriate time? Magic is not here to show off, Cyrus. First off, no Kastori will be impressed. Second, it is a responsibility and not a game to use your magic effectively. You can be a fun person and still use magic, but the two must be separate.”

Tell that to Pagus,
Cyrus thought.

“Even Pagus knows when to focus,” Erda gently said, and Cyrus laughed away the notion, hiding his embarrassment. “In any case, this is our dinner tonight—goodness, our tribe is getting spoiled—so Celeste, would you do the honors?”

“Yes,” she said, without, thankfully, giving any smart lip to her brother.

She walked up to the ursus, and all was calm for a few seconds. Cyrus swore even the aviants stopped chirping and the wind stopped blowing. Then, in a flash, a giant but controlled flame engulfed the ursus. Celeste had unerring control of the fire, diminishing it in certain areas and intensifying it in others. Nothing broke her concentration, not even an aviant screeching from a few branches up.

As if for good measure and a bit of showmanship, Celeste quickly doused the fire, lifted the ursus in front of Cyrus and Erda, and cast a new spell which healed all of its wounds.

“I’m not going to have to start running in about five seconds, am I?” Cyrus asked just as Celeste opened her eyes, visions of his sister playing the ultimate prank dancing in his mind.

“I wish,” Celeste said. “No, I don’t, I’m kidding, I promise. Besides, no one can bring anything or anyone back from the dead. Best we can do, if I remember right, is that one can absorb a mortal wound of another being and save it, but that involves sacrifice. Right, Erda? I guess that’d be good for saving a child or something, but not sure where else we could use it.”

“Correct,” Erda said. “We thought Typhos would bring people back, but not even he…”

Her voice trailed off, and Cyrus knew better than to push the issue. He instead went over to the ursus and petted it gently, feeling the fur Celeste had given back. He genuinely could not tell a difference between it before and after its initial run through the magical oven.

“Not bad, Celeste,” he said, and he found himself unable to resist trash talking. “Enjoy your power now, because I’m going to study and become an even more powerful Kastori than you.”

“Oh, wow,” Celeste said, her eyes wide. “Why don’t you show off some of your magic, Cyrus? Or are you still at the point that you can only cast one spell at a time?”

“Man, where’s the quiet sister I knew for 19 years?!?”

“She’s there when her brother isn’t yapping away,” she said with a laugh.

Cyrus sighed and knew she had him beat. The only thing worse than failing to back up talk was not even trying to back it up. He looked to Erda for support, who gave a warm smile but also took a couple of steps back, making her role clear.

“Just think of it as justifiable revenge for yesterday,” Celeste said. “You got to show off on the tent, now I get to show off with my magic.”

Cyrus nodded.

“You will get it, though. All jokes aside… but cook this ursus first.”

“I got it,” Cyrus said, a smile forming as his sister stood behind him.

Cyrus looked at the beast and decided he would only cook it, not levitate it. He closed his mind and concentrated heavily on roasting certain parts of the ursus. He tried to work the temperature of the flame, hot in some spots, a warm tingle in others. He spread it accordingly.

He did this for several minutes, never once opening his eyes, but still able to “see” the spell unfolding on the beast in front of him. He tuned out the world, as he didn’t hear even the crunching of leaves beneath the women adjusting their position. He could smell the cooking, but even that seemed filtered through his magical world instead of the real world.

Finally, he sensed he had finished. He opened his eyes, and the flame died down.

“Nice, Cyrus!” Celeste said, patting him gently. “That actually looks quite cooked.”

“Yeah… yeah, it does,” Cyrus said, confidence rising in him.

“See what happens when you concentrate?” Erda said. “You uncovered what it means to cast a spell powerful to your baseline. If Celeste did that, she might have burned this forest down. In time, Cyrus, you will reach her level.”

“Her former level, or the level she’s at now?”

Erda didn’t respond, much to Cyrus’ chagrin. She instead walked past him, used her powers to “carry” the ursus, and told them to head back to the outpost. The two siblings trekked out of the woods in silence for the first few minutes.

It’s weird. She’s always been the little sister, the girl who needed my protection against the big, bad, mean world. I was the golden child, and she was the egg we had to prevent cracking, and the one I swore I’d never drop or let go of. Now…