Kairos 58: Riding the Storm

The Foresight’s crew prepared for war.

Once their business was settled, Gaia had sunken back into the earth from which she came, leaving the other [Térastheon]’s members to plan the assault as they wished. Though she probably had more than enough power to destroy Orichalcos on her lonesome, she couldn’t interfere more than she already did.

“I will watch you from afar,” she had said, before collapsing into dust. “We will meet again.”

Afterward, the Foresight had walked to Hybris’ altar, with the crew informed of Kairos’ plans. Though some like Cass and Tiberius clearly would have rather walked away from the conflict, they started preparing all the same. Officers distributed fire rods, Andromache blessed the warriors with protective spells, Agron encouraged the men with songs, and Rook paraded before them like a mascot.

Hybris had gathered an army of his own, one that put Kairos’ to shame. Monstrous toadmen with obsidian spears, Karkinos siege engines, amphibious Cetae, sea spiders the size of carts, twisted automatons made of seashells, colonies of eels coiling into the shape of a colossal humanoid... their battle lines stretched on as far as Kairos’ eye could see. Each of these creatures could threaten a ship’s crew or a coastal town, and Hybris brought thousands of them.

Even surface superpowers like Lyce or Alexandria would have struggled to repel such a force back into the depths. Their sight made Kairos’ crew uneasy, some of the warriors observing the creatures as if expecting them to turn on the surface-dwellers without warning. Only their captain’s promises had calmed them.

“I truly hope you won’t regret this, Kairos,” Nessus whispered to his captain as they oversaw the monstrous army. Hybris was singing ancient spells on his altar, laying the groundwork for the ritual. “We can’t turn back now.”

“I know,” the Travian replied, a System Screen opened before him. He had reviewed his new subclasses and Skill for an hour, trying to make sense out of them. “I’ve always considered myself a bridge between humans and monsters. I can’t deny half of who I am.”

“I suppose not.” The fallen god crossed his arms. “I’m surprised neither you nor Andromache told the others about my true nature though.”

“You chose to share your tale with us,” Kairos reminded the satyr with a genuine smile. “I would be a poor friend if I spread your secret life story without your consent.”

“So we’re still friends?” Nessus sounded relieved. Deep down, he had grown to care for the Foresight’s crew. “Even knowing I’m one of the old gods you despise so much?”

“I don’t despise the old gods, only some of them.” Kairos had the utmost respect for the likes of Prometheus and Heracles in particular. “Whatever you were in the past doesn’t matter. Who you are now does. You had my back for many battles, and I trust you.”

“Thank you… my friend.” Nessus chuckled. “Why do I have the feeling we will end up sharing a temple one day?”

“Because we will,” Kairos replied. “Above that, how do you suggest I develop my cult?”

“Taking godhood seriously, now that you’ve got Gaia’s ear?”

“Your tale changed my mind,” the Travian confessed. “I thought cults were more of a vanity project, but yours allowed you to ascend from [Demigod] to [God].” Ascending through the Ranks meant greater power, and thus the ability to better protect his homeland and fledging kingdom.

“My conversion method involved lavishly rewarding those who bent the knee, and inflicting calamities on those who didn’t. This behavior got me killed twice over.” Nessus let out a bellowing laugh, as if his death was something to joke about. “I doubt you would return from that, oh my captain.”

So did Kairos. “So I should focus on earning people’s adoration, rather than demanding it?”

“Exactly. Do it the heroic way. Save the kingdom to get the princess’ hand rather than the other way around, if you catch my drift. Some people will be ungrateful whatever you do, but most will remember… so long as you proselytize. Or else you will end up like Perseus.”

Kairos raised an eyebrow. “He must have found it unjust to see you ascend instead of him.”

“Persy was pissed, yes, but he should have seen it coming. He considered cults an arrogant venture, and preferred to rule Mycenae as a just king instead. Though he had done more for Greece’s safety than I ever did, he did not promote his deeds.” Nessus put his hands behind his head. “If the snake is genuine and you make peace with sea monsters everywhere, you should spread the word. The only thing worse than death is oblivion.”

Kairos would take that advice to heart. “Do you think [Animated Idols] would help with that?”

“Yes and no,” the fallen god answered. “They will help when you become a [Demigod]. As a [Hero], they will only animate to protect themselves or worshipers, or under very specific circumstances. I would still take the Skill, as I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

Kairos considered how to use his SP wisely. He had twenty-five of them, so either enough to heavily invest in new abilities, or Rank-Up one of his lesser stats. The ones he wanted, [Intelligence] and [Luck], would each consume his entire point reserve to move from B to B+. With a battle on the way, Kairos considered it ill-advised.

Versatility is a strength in itself.

You sacrificed 3 Skill Points to purchase the [Animated Idol] Legendary Skill. Your [Idols] can move and act on their own like mindless automatons. You can set the activation conditions at will, though the [Idol] will automatically animate to defend itself from attacks. You cannot directly control the animated [Idol], and they can only complete simple tasks.

You sacrificed 3 Skill Points to purchase the [Enthralling Image] Legendary Skill. Your [Idols] generate a pleasant feeling of joy in those who look at them. Additionally, your worshipers gain a morale boost around your [Idols], including resistance to mind-affecting effects such as [Terror]. Due to your [Legend], this will also affect monsters.

Kairos examined the activation conditions, and found out that animated [Idols] were quite limited. They could be asked to follow a certain creature, attack specific people, or guard areas, but nothing more complex. “Nessus, you will set the non-combatants and [Crafters] among us to create [Idols] of me,” he ordered his friend. “Nothing too complicated. Crude statuettes would work.”

“These ruins have plenty of available material,” Nessus said while glancing at the stone and metal walls that survived their time underwater, “but they won’t help us much in battle. I suppose we can always make your [Idols] too cute to harm.”

“They won’t help as fighters,” Kairos conceded. “Instead, they will serve as walking sources of healing and improve troop morale. My Skills might also attract additional monster reinforcements to protect them.”

“I believe you are more likely to find defenders among the army here,” the satyr said, “but I admit your strategy has merit. Since your [Healing Altar] Skill can cure people up to three times a day, this could decide the fate of multiple battles.”

A few minutes afterward, Kairos’ officers gathered to give their report.

“We are ready to march at your command,” Cassandra said, though she clearly would rather leave the ocean’s depths behind them. Her [Fork of Nemesis] seemed to have regained some of its luster. Perhaps it smelled blood in the water, and the Abysseans’ grudge.

Andromache’s staff glittered with power. “I have cast so many [Water Resistance] spells, I could recite the incantation in my sleep.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Agron shrugged. “We shall see if my flames can burn below the sea. Any new Skill that could help with it, Kairos?”

“Maybe that new [Telchine] subclass,” the Travian answered. The three Skills it offered ran the gamut from sinister to tantalizing.

“I earned it as well, my love,” Andromache said. “The Telchines were fiendish children of Tartarus and Nemesis. Sea daemon spawns of hell and vengeance.”

“I never heard of them,” Cassandra said with a frown.

“Among their exploits, they could summon the poisonous waters of Styx to turn lands barren and poisonous,” Nessus added. “They did it so often that good ol’ Zeus struck them all down with thunderbolts. None of them remain to this day.”

“They also wielded maleficent sorcery, and crafted powerful weapons,” Andromache said with a fiendish smirk that showed her fangs. “Including Poseidon’s trident.”

Kairos squinted in skepticism. “I thought the Cyclops crafted it?”

“They did, yes... but every great blacksmith has assistants, my other half.”

Destructive and poisonous creatures with a link to Poseidon’s trident… Kairos started to see why he had unlocked the subclass. It had probably been exclusive to the original Telchines, making it impossible to access without [Henosis (Hero)]. Since the [Hero] favored poison and trickery, this specialization appealed to him.

The other subclass though...

“I don’t have any insight on [Moondblood] though,” Nessus confessed.

“I have,” Tiberius said with caution. “It is a [Werewolf] Class Specialization for pack leaders. Lycean Questors are trained to hunt them down, especially since…”

“Since?” Kairos asked, as his aide-de-camp hesitated.

“Since most [Moonbloods] are priests of Lycaon, sir.”

A heavy silence followed, as the implications dawned on Kairos.

“Are the Skills interesting though?” Nessus asked, trying to stay positive.

“[Lunacy] will allow me to influence emotions depending on the moon’s phase,” Kairos said. “[Wild Hunt] should improve the power of my pack, and [Wolfstrength] my own. Including that of my werewolf transformation.”

“But you don’t have one,” Cassandra pointed out the obvious. “So how would the Skill affect you?”

“Maybe you’ll just gain a weakness to silver.” Nessus mused, causing Kairos to raise an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Silver doesn’t affect werewolves anymore than any normal beast.” His mother Aurelia could touch silver coins like any other woman. “I do not know where that folklore comes from, but the only supernatural weakness of werewolves is susceptibility to [Beastslayer] effects.”

The only silver Kairos had to worry about was the one coming from Mithridates’ mines.

“What about [Wild Hunt]?” Agron asked, interested in the possibility of gaining more power for himself. “How would you strengthen us?”

“By biting all of you,” Kairos replied.

A heavy silence answered his declaration, and the Travian warlord realized that the way he worded the proposal made it sound… questionable.

“I knew it would happen,” Nessus said, adopting a pose that Kairos found positively obscene. “Spending too much time around my beautiful body has made you lust for me. Can’t wait to get a sweet taste of ol’ Nessus, can you?”

“My, Kairos, how bold of you,” Cass added with a coy smile, a hand on her waist. “I thought you would contain your greed from now on?”

Even Andromache couldn’t resist making fun of him. “Where haven’t you bitten me already, my other half?”

Kairos smiled joylessly. “That’s not funny.”

Only Agron gave the proposal serious thought. “Can a minotaur become a werewolf? I never say no to extra strength, but I can’t picture it in my mind. Unless…” A shrewd smile formed on the minotaur’s mouth. “Would wolf howls count as music to my [Skald] abilities?”

“Sir, I strongly advise you against purchasing any [Moonblood] Skills,” Tiberius said with vehemence. “Besides the risk of contracting Lycaon’s curse, public use of these abilities will not bode well with your alliances in Lyce. The mere fact you unlocked this Specialization at all will be seen with fear and loathing.”

“Agreed, the potential power is not worth the risk,” Cassandra said with wisdom. “Especially since Lycaon already tried to make you contract the curse before.”

Kairos remembered that misadventure very well. When Jason of Iolcus almost killed him in Achlys, the Travian had received apocalyptic visions from his werewolf ancestor… or what he assumed to be Lycaon. The risk of [Moonblood] creating a direct connection to the loathsome, evil deity frightened Kairos.

“Sorry Agron, there will be no wolf transformation for you.” Kairos could use [Turncoat 3] to hide his new subclass, since he couldn’t get rid of it, and would put off buying [Moonblood] Skills unless absolutely necessary. “The [Telchine] abilities look more promising anyway.”

“I taught you the basics of magic once, my love,” Andromache reminded him. “The Telchines were masters of Goetic magic, the sorcery of Tartarus and daemons. But though lesser than Theurgic, natural magic, it is a tool like any other, neither good nor evil.”

Kairos supposed he had gone too far to turn back now. Considering the conflict ahead, he needed to throw his all in the conflict.

You sacrificed 3 Skill Points to purchase the [Stygian Curse 3] Skill. You can summon a cloud of toxic miasma produced by the river Styx from your mouth. This miasma is [Poisonous] to the living, though you are immune to its effects. Additionally, you are immune to the negative effects of the five Underworld Rivers.

You sacrificed 3 Skill Points to purchase the [Telchine Metalsmithing 3] Skill. You have mastered Telchine metal-working. You can craft magical weapons, armors, and shields by infusing them with blood and secret spell formulas during the creation process. You can create items up to Rank 3. The more powerful an item, the greater its fabrication cost and the longer its crafting time.

You sacrificed 3 Skill Points to purchase the [Telchine Sorcery 3] Skill. You have adopted the Telchine’s goetic magical traditions. You can empower your gaze with the Evil Eye to inflict the following ailments: [Charm], [Blind], and [Drain]. The target must have a lower Charisma than yours and see your eyes to be affected, but the ailment is permanent unless magically removed.

Kairos wondered if he could get a hydra-related subclass in the future.

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Once the preparations were done, Hybris gathered his allies and monstrous generals near his altar, to explain to them his strategy.

“The dome will join with the skies above, creating a corridor of air joining the seafloor and the heavens,” the sea serpent rasped. “From there, it will expand to cover all of old Atlantis.”

Including the merfolk’s royal city. “So we are creating a giant whirlpool?” Kairos asked, his fellow [Pantheon] member answering with a nod. “With the entire region as its ‘eye’?”

“This phenomenon will devastate the capital before we even attack,” Cassandra pointed out with a grim face. “Thousands will die from the storm, and even more from asphyxia.”

Hybris scoffed. “Millions will perish today,” he corrected the human. “Once the capital has dried, our amphibious armies will march into it. By the time the spell ends and water returns, we will have conquered the land.”

“Taking the city afterward should be easy,” Tiberius said with some optimism. “The city’s giant fish will all perish, and if the merfolk were good at land battle, they wouldn’t have sent us here.”

“Some of their [Elite] warriors and spellcasters will offer resistance, led by [Heroes] and [Demigods],” Hybris countered. “And the palace possesses a separate aquasphere powered by my father’s trident. The royal family will call upon its power as soon as they can.”

“They could disrupt our ritual with the shard,” Andromache said, “though not immediately.”

“Then we will strike the palace while the rest of the armies occupy the city itself,” Kairos decided. “Our crew is better at taking positions than holding them, and the Foresight is a living siege engine.”

“I hope some of them have [Legends],” Agron said with enthusiasm. His fingers instinctively moved to the axe around his belt, as if he could barely resist the urge to swing it.

“We will start now.” Hybris turned to his fellow [Pantheon] members. “Kairos, Andromache, I want a word with you before we begin.”

The human captain exchanged a glance with his consort, before dismissing the crew.

“The entire royal family must perish,” Hybris rasped when the trio was alone around his altar. “All of them. Do you understand?”

Kairos flinched. “The current king is a boy no older than nine,” he argued. Though his sister had proved vain and scornful, King Triton was a harmless, cowardly child. “Without his throne, he will be no threat to anyone.”

Hybris’ red eyes narrowed at his ally. “Nine or ninety, a surviving king will serve as a rallying point for the merfolk’s resistance. We must decapitate their kingdom to tame it.”

“We could keep him as a hostage,” Kairos pointed out.

“The danger of him escaping is too great.” Hybris observed the Travian [Hero]. “This… delicateness surprises me. The merfolk spurned you.”

“Children are a line in the sand for me.”

“Yet many will perish today my other half, whether from asphyxia or battle,” Andromache argued. “Though we might not be personally involved in their demise, we will be complicit all the same simply by assisting in the ritual.”

Kairos clenched his jaw, having no answer to this. “What if they surrender?” the [Hero] asked. “Should I cut them down where they stand?”

The answer was swift and blunt.

“Yes.” Hybris coiled like a snake. “Listen to my wisdom, Kairos. Empires are built on ashes, not principles. What value is the blood beneath the foundations, compared to the greatness that stands above it? These are not your people. They are not yours to protect.”

“The peace you desire cannot be founded on half-measures, my other half,” Andromache added, her fingers brushing against Kairos’ arm. “If your mercy leads to greater suffering in the future, more wars, it is no different than cruelty.”

Her argument made Kairos uneasy. “You sound like Mithridates.”

“That does not make it untrue,” the witch replied.

“If the merfolk regain momentum, my position over my fellow Cetae will suffer,” Hybris said shrewdly. “They might turn to the surface again.”

Kairos clenched his fists. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“No, I am telling you what is at stake.” Hybris looked at the dome above their heads. “I believe the old people of Latinum had a saying: Vae Victis.”

Kairos recognized the words as primitive Lycean. “Woe to the defeated,” he translated.

“Mercy is not a moral obligation, but a privilege to be used strategically. Do you think the boy-king will be grateful for your kindness? Or that he will avenge the wounds done to him when he grows old enough to?” The sea monster’s lures glittered with a fiendish glow. “How many of your children will perish then?”

Kairos’ thoughts turned to Prince Critias of Orthia. The Travian had captured him, spared him when Mithridates not so subtly wanted him dead. And though Kairos tried to keep him alive, in the end, the [Poison King] eventually had him murdered.

Brave Prince Critias had never made a mystery of his intentions to fight Kairos, once he inherited his father’s throne. But though Histria could survive Orthia’s fleet, Orichalcos’ armies were another matter entirely.

Julia will give me a son or daughter soon, Kairos thought. Rhadamanthe left one too, and I swore to protect him.

But above all, the Travian was afraid of transforming into Mithridates. Pergamon’s silver king had no fetters. He would do anything to protect his country and stand on top, whether it involved betraying allies, plotting murder… and slaying children. If he agreed to this course of action, Kairos would lower himself to his rival’s level.

I’m not like him, Kairos tried to convince himself. I don’t discard allies, and I don’t divide the world between thralls or foes.

But the two kings were similar in one thing.

They both put their country’s well-being above everything.

“Fine,” Kairos said, though the word flayed his throat on its way out.

Though it horrified him, he would rather drench his hands in blood rather see his own children inherit his wars.

Hybris’ fangs drooled with hunger. “Then let us begin.”

Kairos climbed on the [Demigod]’s altar, and raised his lance towards the heavens above. He could already sense it in the artificial atmosphere all around him. Magic saturated the air, the very same power that coursed through his [Anemoi Spear]. His weapon reacted, like metal called lightning to itself.

The spear shuddered, the ancient power slumbering within its silvery shaft awakening. The tip flowered brightly with a moonlight glow.

And then the metal screamed.

The spear screeched, as its tip blasted the dome above Kairos with a twisting tornado. The magic’s sheer power almost tossed the Travian off the altar, and it took all his strength to keep the weapon aimed straight at the dome. The winds twisted around him, some with the strength of a hurricane, others as gentle as a breeze.

The dome twisted as the tornado fed it, bending upward and pushing the waters back. The magical tempest pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until it defeated the sea itself. When Kairos looked up, he no longer saw the deep azure darkness of the Sunsea, but the pale blue hue of the sky.

The spear in his hands felt lighter, the winds it produced weakening. Yet the storm it had conjured only grew in intensity. Hybris’ dome transformed into the eye of a gargantuan whirlpool, with walls of water swirling around the Atlantean ruins. Yet the air within its eye was no more than a gentle wind.

The dreadful typhoon began to expand, blasting away sand, dust, algae, and whatever had the bad luck of standing in its way. Even Atlantis’ metal walls shuddered and snapped before the storm’s divine power. The humans and monsters within the eye watched on, unperturbed, as the phenomenon expanded outward.

When at long last Kairos’ spear calmed down and returned to normal, Hybris let out an inhuman roar that echoed across the ruins. Immediately, his monstrous army began to march in Orichalcos’ direction, while the Foresight waited for its captain and master to do the same.

The storm had come to the merfolk, and monsters followed in its wake.

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A/N: chapter made possible by you, dear patrons.