Read Kastori Restorations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 4) for Free Online Page A

who bring me pain. The power to kill Cyrus and Celeste.”

 
     
     
     
    8
    Cyrus slowly walked toward the rusted and damaged Imperial Palace, formerly his home, as Celeste worked to calm herself from the damage that Typhos had inflicted on Nubia. As much as he envied his sister for the magical powers that she possessed, it was moments like these that he appreciated not being able to sense as she did. He liked to keep war simple. Kill the enemy, save your allies, and forget about those you can’t help.
    I guess Crystil’s had some kind of impact on me. It’s the same mentality she started with.
    He paused at the steps leading to the entrance and nodded to a guard to get his father and Crystil. While the guard went behind, he looked back at Capitol City—or the remains of it. Whatever buildings remained looked excavated and charred, and in spaces where they should have been buildings, empty space existed. He looked at the wall and saw humans and Kastori alike working to repair the damage wrought over the past two years by Typhos. Probably some of these Kastori who helped damage the place. Doesn’t matter. As long as they’re willing to help now.
    Besides, they’ll help us get ahead of schedule. Most important thing isn’t here, anyways. It’s to get our defenses back up. And we won’t be fighting an army of Kastori this time. It’ll just be the one evil threat to us all. And whatever monsters he throws this way.
    Why are we even here, then?
    “Son.”
    Cyrus turned to his father, and though his father had his arms open for a hug, both men’s expressions remained dour.
    “I take it—”
    “Typhos destroyed Nubia,” Cyrus said. “Celeste is taking it pretty hard.”
    “I’m sorry, son,” Emperor Orthran said. “We are making decent progress here. The wall will be—”
    “Pops, forgive me for the blunt intrusion, but I think we should forget this place.”
    His father seemed taken aback by the statement, but not offended. When he did not respond, Cyrus continued.
    “This is a wonderful palace, and someday, we’ll reside in it again and rule Monda the way we did before. But it’s nothing more than a symbol of our rule. We don’t need symbols. We need protection. We need people to work. The people don’t care about us guiding them from a palace. They’d probably accept our leadership from inside one of the slave sheds that they used to live in. Time we spend working here is not time spent working on our survival.”
    His father listened contemplatively. Halfway through his speech, Crystil approached from behind the emperor, keeping a respectful but noticeable presence. When he finished, Crystil gave a warm, happy smile. She’s been thinking the same thing. He kept his neutral expression but messaged her his gratitude.
    His father held up a hand and walked to the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the palace from a visitor’s point of view. Cyrus didn’t have any idea which way his father would go, for he knew how much he loved his home.
    “I hope you don’t mind sleeping in a warehouse, son,” the Emperor said with a smile.
    “The nearest one is about two miles north of here,” Celeste interrupted, walking to the side of their father.
    It’s amazing. She stands with the same authority now as he does. And two years ago, she can barely look me in the eye because she would get so nervous.
    “I have data here that can give us the kind of boost that we need to fight whatever Typhos creates. Data collected from Nubia. Dad, you were right. The settlement there did help us.”
    “What kind of data?” Crystil asked.
    Celeste shrugged.
    “We just grabbed whatever we could. But the citizens of Nubia figured out how to incorporate magic into their technology. They had labs at the complex that showed how to imbue their weapons with magic, much like Reya for me and… Mom for you, Crystil.”
    I don’t know how she does it. I don’t ever think I can look at Erda that way.
    “Guys, let’s go. The