Kairos 75: The Lord of Magic

Apologies for the slight delay, internet troubles. 

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The crew celebrated all the way to Argos.

After their victory against Teuta’s fleet, the deck had all but transformed into a banquet hall. Nessus had opened some of the Valian wine amphoras they brought, and his honeyed lamb recipe was probably the best Kairos had tasted in his entire life. The crew had gathered around fires to listen to Agron’s songs... or sleep peacefully with a full belly in Rook’s case. Even Nausicaa had leaped out of the water to play dice with Cassandra and Tiberius; and she won handily.

Another commander would have condemned the lack of discipline, but Kairos felt his crew had earned a moment to breathe. After so many tense battles, it felt good to just stop and enjoy the trip.

“They’re beautiful,” Andromache said, pressing herself against her lover as they watched the stars. “You can see the Gemini.”

“They look better than the ghosts we fought in Achlys,” Kairos replied, as he held her against him. The Scylla felt cold to the touch from the waist down in human form, but her hands were as warm and soothing as a hot bath. “Is it true that Zeus turned Castor and Pollux into constellations?”

“So say the bards, my other half,” she replied softly. “You would have to ask Nyx the Night for answers.”

Andromache rested her head against Kairos’ shoulder, and he stroked her hair. His lover had been anxious ever since they started seeing the Cyclopean Islands’ rocky coasts on the horizon. Their long journey had reached an end, and it scared her.

The god of magic Orgonos awaited them.

“It’s alright,” Kairos whispered to his concubine.

“What if he says no?” She replied, her nails sinking into his skin like claws. “What if he takes the gifts and doesn’t lift the curse?”

“He will. People would have stopped offering him gifts long ago if he stole them, and the Moira’s wording was pretty clear.”

“We thought the same with Cassandra’s Quest, only to be tricked,” Andromach pointed out. “What if there is a hidden meaning? Something we overlooked?”

“Then we will deal with it together.” Kairos kissed her on the cheek, and she eased up.

“I’m afraid,” Andromache admitted. “I’m afraid of being disappointed. That we traveled all the way here and fought so many enemies for nothing.”

Kairos examined her sad, beautiful face for a moment and said, “You’re not.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not afraid of being disappointed,” Kairos said. “You’re afraid of what will follow once your curse is lifted. You’re afraid of the unknown.”

“I suppose,” she whispered. “I… while cursed, I know where we are going. Namely, nowhere. Once it is lifted, I will have something to lose. Hopes that can be crushed.”

“Good.” Kairos nuzzled her in the cheek. “It means you will live, truly live.”

Andromache smiled, and kissed him on the lips.

The Foresight silently skidded on the water, with the bright moon illuminating the shores of the Cyclopean Islands. The archipelago was protected by tall, steep cliffs of chalky stone and sharp rocks peeking out of the water like sharp teeth. Dozens of islands existed in the region, all of them settled by the giantfolk. These cyclopes, hecatonchires, and giants had never been conquered by an outside power, but also mostly kept to themselves.

The specific island that they approached looked more like a barren rock than anything, with only one building to speak of… but what a building it was. Standing atop a chalky seacliff, a towering basalt tower loomed over the Sunsea. The structure was larger and greater than Vali’s royal palace, its surface covered in carved or painted eye symbols observing all corners of the world. Its sharp peak smoldered with smokeless green fire and spectral runes, its radiance offering comfort to ships traveling in the dark.

They had found the Tower of Orgonos.

You earned a level (total fifty-seven) and 3 Skill Points.

“I miss the old days when destroying a fleet, sending a [Hero] fleeing, and completing a months-long journey gave us multiple levels,” Kairos said with a heavy sigh. His ship started making circles around the rocky island, looking for a place to dock safely.

“That’s old age talking, oh my captain,” Nessus replied, as he lazily cut a piece of lamb and tossed it to Chloris. Kairos had spotted the amazon sitting next to the satyr quite often, and suspected that she liked him. “Soon, you’ll rant about disrespectful youngsters and the good ol’ times.”

Somehow, Kairos had the intuition he wouldn’t live long enough to reach old age. Considering his dangerous lifestyle and the near-daily attacks on his person, one of his foes was bound to get lucky one day. Kairos would do his best to survive and reach godhood, but he was wise enough to understand the odds were stacked against him.

I don’t have to live forever, he thought while stroking Andromache’s cheek, just long enough. “Zama didn’t show up,” Kairos said. His absence had bugged him for a while.

“A good general wouldn’t pick a place and time that favored their enemy,” Tiberius stated. Cassandra rested against his chest near the fire, much like Andromache with Kairos. “Teuta didn’t have any weapon capable of attacking the Foresight underwater. The only reason a fight happened at all is because we decided to give battle.”

“Perhaps Zama let Teuta fight us alone to probe us,” Cassandra added. “To see what we are capable of and prepare accordingly.”

Kairos thought as much. Zama would cautiously wait and accumulate resources, before offering battle when the deck was stacked in his favor. Teuta had nothing to show for her excursion besides heavy losses, while the Valian general had gathered a large fleet ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“You’re all downers,” Nessus said with a shrug. “We won. Let’s stop worrying for a few days. We’ll have more than enough reasons to when spring comes.”

“I have an agreement,” Chloris said while biting into her lamb piece. She had grown better at speaking in Travian, but still struggled with grammar. “We got the victory, it won’t get away.”

“True,” Cassandra agreed with a smile. “Once word spreads, Teuta’s power in Travia will be shattered. She leads by strength, and defeats kill confidence.”

“As long as Teuta lives, the fight continues,” Tiberius replied with stoicism. “Besides, how can we prove we defeated her? She might intimidate her troops into lying.”

Nausicaa stopped her gambling winning streak long enough to proudly showcase one of her collected trophies: a familiar axe, suffused with magical power.

“Teuta’s axe?” Kairos couldn’t help but grin ear to ear. “No way, you took it after it fell in the water? Good thinking!”

“Everyone give this woman a round of applause!” Nessus shouted, the crew answering his call with claps and cheers. Nausicaa smiled wickedly, her fangs reflecting the cooking fire’s flames as Chloris offered her a wine cup.

“You were saying?” Cassandra asked Tiberius.

“I concede defeat,” her future husband replied with a sigh.

After touring the island’s coast for minutes, the Foresight finally found a narrow, artificial cove on the northern side. The monumental carvings of four cyclopes’ faces loomed over the sandy shore, their wise eyes untouched by age and elements. The shore led to a spiraling stairway divided in two halves side by side: a narrow path made for humans, and a larger one with giant stepping stones.

A green barrier of eldritch flames burnt at the stairway’s entrance, with a line of skulls and bones occupying the shores.

“Orgonos won’t suffer intruders,” Cassandra said with apprehension.

Andromache nodded slowly as she observed the barrier. “Anyone who crosses the barrier uninvited will burn with divine flames.”

“How do we know we are invited though?” Kairos asked Cassandra, who was more familiar with the region.

“I do not know,” she admitted. “Orgonos opens the path to gift-bearers, but I don’t know which signs he uses—”

A booming sound interrupted Cassandra, and silenced even Agron’s song.

The four carved faces in the cliffs started to animate, their eyes rolling in the Foresight’s direction, their stone jaw stretching. A green light erupted from their pupils and illuminated the Foresight’s crew, waking up Rook.

Many crewmates tensed or reached for their weapons, but Kairos stopped them with a raised hand. They had received their sign.

“Welcome,” the four faces spoke as one, each with a different voice. Two were female, two male. “Lord Orgonos foresaw your arrival.”

Of course he did. “We come bearing gifts,” Kairos shouted at the stone faces, hoping their master listened through them.

The giants’ eyelights focused on Kairos, Andromache… and Nessus, of all people.

“Only the three of you may pass,” the carved faces declared.

“What about me?” Rook insisted as he leapt to Kairos’ side. “We’re a package deal!”

The faces remained unmoved. “Only the chosen three may pass.”

“What?! Why?!” Rook showcased his mighty chest. “Look at me! Look at my feathers! How can’t you like my feathers?! You don’t need two eyes to see how beautiful I am!”

“Only the chosen three may pass,” the stone faces said.

“What if I fly over the barrier? What are you gonna do, huh?”

The barrier flickered for a moment, a green glow surrounding the island’s cliffs. The defensive perimeter extended all over Orogonos’ dominion, preventing entry from all sides.

“Kairos, they’re immune to my bird charm!” Rook panicked. “What do I do? It’s never happened before!”

“It’s alright, Rook,” Kairos scratched him behind the head. “You’re too good for them.”

“Damn right,” the griffin nodded, before glaring at Nessus. “But why is he invited? Because he has hooves?”

“I can only see one reason,” Nessus replied grimly.

Orgonos knew who he was.

“You can choose not to follow, if you don’t want to,” Kairos reassured his friend.

“It’s been a long time coming,” Nessus replied as he looked for his bow. “I’m with you, my friend.”

The Foresight docked and the crew pulled the [Rock of Theseus] onto the beach. Andromache’s left hand tightened around Kairos as they walked, while she held the trident’s shard close to her right one.

“How are we supposed to carry that upstairs?” Nessus asked the stone faces while pointing a finger at the [Rock of Theseus]. The boulder needed a whole troop to transport.

The faces looked at the artifact with their glowing eyes, and the rock teleported away.

“Neat,” Nessus said. “Can you spare us the ascent then?”

“The chosen must show their determination,” the faces replied.

“Well, it was worth a shot.”

The trio sent one last glance at the crew, before stepping through the green fire. The flames licked their skin without burning it, though Kairos sensed the weight of ancient magic the moment they reached the other side of the barrier. An invisible pressure that dwarfed even the Necromanteion’s dreadful aura.

They had entered a [God]’s domain, and his gaze was upon them.

The trio climbed the stairway in silence, their steps echoing through the empty path. The winds had gone silent, and the radiance of Kairos’ spear had dimmed. All forms of magic and even natural forces bent to a single will.

Their ascent stretched on for hours, but finally ended at the tower’s bottom. The dreadful monument loomed over them, so tall that Kairos struggled to see the glowing summit from his position. His [Magical Knack] Skill failed to identify the countless spells and arcane rituals woven in the stone’s fabric.

“It reminds me of my lighthouse,” Andromache said as they stepped on a round platform facing the tower’s walls. The building’s sheer size and power intimidated her. “But… so much grander.”

“I don’t see the entrance,” Nessus pointed out. The tower lacked a gate of any sort.

They didn’t have to look for one. The stone platform beneath them glowed, and teleported them away in a bright flash of green light.

When the radiance receded and Kairos could see again, he opened his eyes inside a vast dome chamber of alien beauty. Sheets of colored, rippling metals covered the ceiling alongside shining crystals meant to enhance divination spells. A kaleidoscopic eye symbol had been carved on the floor, pulsating with energy.

Orgonos awaited them at the center, seated on a colossal throne of marble.

Even seated, the New God of Magic loomed over the mortals in his presence. His height pushed beyond seven meters tall, though his body had withered into a gaunt figure. His pallid skin was white as a cadaver, and mostly covered in rich black robes. A green crystal glowed beneath his hood in place of an eye, above a noseless face and rotten teeth.

The God of Magic had embraced undeath.

Yet, in spite of his cadaverous appearance, the ancient cyclops radiated an aura of quiet majesty and regal bearing. Kairos had only ever felt the same pressure in Gaia’s presence, and much like the mother of the gods, instinctively knelt before the deity alongside Andromache and Nessus. Orgonos’ crystal eye observed them in silence, as the cyclops woke up from a long meditation.

Orgonos, God of Magic.

Legend: All-Seeing Eye (God)

Pantheon: New Gods.

Level: ???

The undead cyclops spoke, his voice as heavy and ancient as the world itself.

“Kairos of Travia. Andromache of Scheria.” Orgonos marked a short pause as he examined Nessus. “Dionysus.”

“Is this the moment where you smite me where I stand?” Nessus asked defiantly, ignoring the glares Kairos sent him. “I must warn you, it won’t last.”

His response seemed to amuse the ancient cyclops more than anything. “You have suffered more than enough for your past life’s crimes, old one,” Orgonos declared, his words slow and ponderous. “Who am I to criticize someone brave enough to seek atonement?”

Nessus didn’t answer, though he looked relieved at avoiding the executioner’s axe.

“I bid you welcome in my hall, mortals,” Orgonos said, inviting them to stand with a movement of his hand. A green aura of magic flared as his black nails moved, as if the magic within him could barely resist exploding into life. “I have been awaiting you.”

Kairos had met gods and protogenoi before, but the cyclops felt the most divine yet. Prometheus had been a wise old rogue, Heracles a larger than life figure, and Gaia a titanic colossus... but Orgonos’ presence dwarfed them all. Each of his words had weight behind them, and his aura of quiet dignity made the human feel small. This was an ancient being who had dared to challenge the Olympians themselves, and emerged victorious.

“Thank you for your welcome, Lord Orgonos,” Kairos said with respect. Andromache squeezed his hand so tightly that he worried she might break his fingers. “May I ask you a question?”

“You wonder how I foresaw your arrival, even though this,” Orgonos pointed at the trident’s shard with his finger, “should have shrouded you from my sight?”

Could he read minds? Kairos winced as Orgonos let out a rattling chuckle, confirming his hypothesis.

“I predicted you would visit my halls long before you got your hands on it, though with fewer crew members and a prince of Vali,” Orgonos explained. “Your choice at Orichalcos altered your path. The city’s destruction created a new future.”

“So we blundered?” Nessus asked, his arms crossed.

“In a way,” Orgonos replied. “If you had not destroyed Orichalcos, the General’s lover would have rejoined him peacefully and you would have been welcomed as allies. Without his opposition, Vali would have chosen you over the Poison King and formed a treaty with you.”

Kairos clenched his jaw in frustration. This trip had been a net loss on all fronts.

“Do not make such a face, young Kairos,” Orgonos said with a reassuring tone. “Hybris will stay true to his word, and his kind will no longer attack the surface. In the long run, you will have saved more lives than you took… even if it takes a deity’s foresight to see it.”

“You know of their prophecy,” Andromache guessed with a frown. “And of Circe’s wicked plans.”

“I do, yes.” The God of Magic joined his hands together in a thoughtful pose. “You have my thanks for uncovering the Necromanteion’s resting place and spreading word of its location. Its wards shrouded the evil within it from my sight.”

Kairos’ heart skipped a beat. “Will you help us destroy Circe’s plans?”

The god’s answer was short and yet so pleasing.

“Yes, I will.”

Orgonos snapped his fingers, and a small, floating crystal tablet materialized right in front of Kairos. An eye symbol glowed on its surface, the promise of help to come.

“Powerful defense mechanisms will activate if someone of my stature tries to approach the Necromanteion, but there is another way,” Orgonos rasped as Nessus grabbed the tablet. “Break this device once you reach the dungeon’s bottom. It shall summon me to your location while bypassing the wards, and I shall undo Circe’s spells. The gates to the Titans’ prison will remain forever shut.”

“You hate them that much?” Nessus whispered.

“I do.” Orgonos’ head hung back against his throne, as if the ancient undead re-lived old memories. “I was a seer before the flood, living a humble existence of shepherding, studying, and offering advice to anyone seeking my counsel. The river god Achelous once visited me as you do now, seeking the location of his lost daughter Arsinoe. I told him that she had been taken by the beautiful god Apollo, who had fallen for her charms and taken her to Delphi as his concubine. Achelous thanked me for the service and took his daughter back.”

Kairos winced, as he guessed what happened next.

“The furious Apollo took his bow and blinded me,” Orgonos said, his voice full of bitterness. “When I appealed to Zeus’ divine justice, the philanderous father in the skies found no fault in his bastard son. The experience would be a lesson, he said, about never interfering in the affairs of the gods. When I asked Achelous to cure my eye, he refused, for he feared mighty Zeus more than me.”

Andromache looked away, the story hitting too close to home.

“Blinded and broken, I swore that these petty gods would never get my worship,” Orgonos finished his tale by glancing at Kairos. “The Olympians had decreed that all mortals must die, so I spit on them by embracing unlife… and when your ancestors came to me with a plan to cast the Olympians down, I offered them my full support. Together, we plotted the end of the Age of Gods, and the beginning of a new era. Many of my fellow New Gods have forgotten why we fought in the first place, but my determination never wavered. This fight is but another battle in our long war.”

“Why help us though?” Kairos asked with a frown. “You know we joined the [Térastheon].”

“My goals align with Gaia’s,” the god of magic replied. “Though I do not take part in the duels of nations, I have smothered the old order’s embers and ensured that no single [Pantheon] would grow as powerful as the Olympians. The Fate System will always give rise to new divinities. This is the cycle of our world. But so long as the gods do not oppress mortals like your ancestor Lycaon did, I shall stay my hand.”

“You created Lycaon’s seal alongside the Senex families,” Kairos remembered. “Surely you know his cult hunts the families maintaining it. Can’t you do anything to prevent his escape?”

“There are forces struggling to free the wolf-god from his bindings, yes. But Lycaon shields his apostle from my gaze, and I cannot repair the Senex’s seal without undoing it first.” Orgonos’ single eye briefly flared with a red burst of light. “I foresee you will have a role to play in this dance, child. That you will be either Lyce’s salvation, or its doom.”

“Oddly vague,” Nessus mused. “Why can’t prophecies be clear?”

“Because the future is not written,” Orgonos replied. “The chaos of free will and the Fate System’s order clash relentlessly. Sometimes one of them wins a battle, but the war stretches on forever.”

Kairos took solace in it, and remembered Prometheus’ words. The Titan of Foresight had prophesied three calamities, but they were not inevitable. The future could be changed.

The Travian [Hero] exchanged a glance with his concubine, and Andromache let his hand go. She took a step forward, and bowed before the cyclops god. “Lord Orgonos,” she said, pondering every word. “If you are as wise as you say, you know why I came here.”

The cyclops nodded slowly. “You seek freedom from Circe’s curse.”

“I… I need your help.” It clearly strained Andromache to admit it, but she did. “I have spent centuries as a beast, and I want my life back. We… We brought gifts. Payment for the service.”

“I have seen.” The [Rock of Theseus] materialized inside Orgonos’ left palm. The boulder looked no bigger than a pebble between his sharp fingers. “You bought two gifts though.”

“What will you do with the shard, if we give it to you?” Kairos asked as Andromache’s grip on the trident’s piece tightened.

“I will make sure no one threatens the world with it again,” Orgonos replied. “With time, I could understand its properties and undo the flood. As all gifts deserve a reward, I shall grant you a boon in return. I will bestow my mark on you, and shield you from divinations. Your foes will never predict you. As for the [Rock of Theseus], nereid, it will buy your salvation.”

Andromache’s eyes lit up with hope. “So it is true… you can free me?”

“I can lift the curse,” Orgonos confirmed with a caveat, “but not without your help.”

Andromache froze in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The spell is woven into your soul, child, and though I bested her in battle Circe’s sorcery rivals my own. I can loosen the bindings enough for your will to shake them off, but only you can fully break your chains. In other words, I can manifest the curse and allow you to fight it off... but I cannot guarantee your victory. If you fail, the curse’s hold will only strengthen.”

Andromache listened without a word, her expression sharpening. “But if I win, I shall be free from it forever?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t I help?” Kairos asked. He refused to let Andromache fight this battle alone.

Orgonos shook his head. “The battle will take place inside her soul. In a way, she will fight herself.”

“But—”

“It’s alright, my other half,” Andromache interrupted him. “I have waited centuries for this battle.”

The Scylla stood with pride and determination.

“I am ready.”

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