The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 (30 page)

The hallway looked less like an architectual marvel and more like a crude path, carved out of solid rock. The hallway was wide, three full grown men could easily pass through shoulder to shoulder without hitting the walls. The glass covered candles were replaced by balls of glowing light. Tartum thought they looked alot like his glowing orb spell. He sensed magic in them, but not much. He assumed they were a simple spell.

They approached a four way branch in the hall. Jeth pointed straight ahead. “That is Rashlarr’s area. I suggest you don’t travel down there unless invited. Rashlarr has some terribly lethal traps set up that even I’d have a hard time circumventing.” Jeth said the last part with some spite. Tartum thought it was odd Jeth would be jealous of Rashlarr. He made a mental note to remember that for later.

Jeth sighed and motioned toward the left hallway. “Your room is down here. Come on, recruit.” Jeth walked down the hallway.

Tartum was beginning to follow when he felt a strange heat coming from Rashlarr’s hallway. He peered down the corridor, but if there was anything giving off heat, he couldn’t see it. He opened himself to the magic fully and felt the heat coming from the hallway stronger. The heat didn’t increase, it was as though his awareness of it did.

“HEY! Come
on,
Recruit!” Jeth yelled to him.

Startled, Tartum closed off his connection to the source and waited for the weakness to pass. After a moment, he felt strong enough to walk, and leaning heavily on his staff, went after Jeth.

Tartum caught up to him about fifty paces from Rashlarr’s hall. He was standing in a doorway, looking irritated.

“Are you done sight seeing? I’ve got many other things to do today, so if you could get your ass off your shoulders, I’d appreciate it.” Jeth’s irritation was obvious.

Tartum was having none of it. “Yea, well I’m here now. Is this my room?”

“Yes, come on in.” Without waiting, Jeth opened the sturdy wooden door and walked in. Tartum followed him.

The room wasn’t so much a room as it was a small cave. It was completely, if somewhat crudely, carved out of the stone. The area was more than adequate for his needs. It was roughly twenty feet wide, and twelve feet long. The ceiling was rounded and gave Tartum the impression that he was inside a bubble. There were worn wooden shelves all along the walls. Some had books and papers on them, but for the most part they were empty. There was a wooden table, in fair condition, in the middle of the floor. It had some writing implements on it and what looked like his spell component pouches. The floor had a worn, decorative carpet in the center of the room. It looked like it had the picture of a caster fighting something on it. It was so faded and stained from years of neglect that it was impossible to tell. There were candles all over the ceiling that gave the room a rich red glow. The bed was just big enough for a full grown man and looked about as comfortable as he would expect from the condition of the rest of the room. On top of the bed was his pack.

Tartum rushed over to the bed and picked up his pack. Opening the flap, he quickly scanned the contents. Everything was there. He couldn’t believe it. He fully expected that at least the coins or gems would be gone. Removing his spell book, Tartum opened the cover. His spell book was unmolested. Everything was there and in the exact condition as when he’d given them up. His heart sang.

Savall hadn’t been lying! He had been telling the truth! He was going to be trained to be a thief! Everything they promised, everything he swore oaths for was going to be his! His heart raced with excitement.

Walking over to the table, Tartum set his book down gently and picked up his pouches. He tied them to the belt holding his cloak closed. He looked at Jeth and smiled. He felt whole again.

“I owe you an apology, Jeth, you were right. You’ve never lied to me. I’ll try to trust you more from now on.” Tartum said, taking on his role as pupil once again.

Jeth smiled and laughed his mocking laughter. “Trust me, huh? Well don’t. You’ll survive longer if you don’t. Rest up, recruit. I’ll have food and drink brought down to you later. I’ll come get you tomorrow. We’ll start your combat training in the morning.” Winking, Jeth made for the door.

Tartum was confused. “I already know how to fight, Jeth. My old Master trained me.”

All traces of laughter left Jeth. He turned to Tartum and studied him a moment. A wicked grin made its way onto his face as he replied. “Tomorrow, I’ll prove to you just how false a statement that is recruit.”

With that, Jeth left the room.

...

The next day, Jeth kept his word. Tartum was startled out of his slumber by Jeth’s rude, and extremely loud, entrance.

“Morning, Recruit! Wake the hells up! It’s time to catch that ass kickin I promised!” Jeth said with his typical sarcastic attitude. “Come on! No time for breakfast, you gotta start waking up early if you want to eat. You probably won’t be able to keep down much once I start pounding you. Don’t worry, your wet nurse, Vaund, will be there to fix anything I break.”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Tartum replied, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he slung his legs over the side of the bed and slumped, trying to wake up. He found sleeping on the lumpy mattress of the bed to be quite uncomfortable and hadn’t slept very well because of it. It was clean at least, and for now Tartum decided he would make do. Even if his muscles and back groaned in protest.

He was glad that it was time to wake. He was looking forward to fighting with Jeth. It would feel good to crack him in his big mouth. Tartum had had enough of his overconfident taunts. He was sick of it, and this was just the oppurtunity he was looking for to shut him for at least a little while. Maybe busting him in the head would be enough to teach this pompous fool some respect.

Jumping down next to Tartum, Jeth put his arm around him. “Come on, recruit! This is no time for laziness! It’s time for you to see just how weak you are! Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you were back in the Null Box!”

Tartum shoved Jeth’s arm off him. He hated when Jeth did that. It reminded him of being lead to that Gods awful hole.

“I think all that bravado will see you face down in a pool of your own blood and teeth, Jeth. Like I told you yesterday, I already know how to fight. My former master trained me well!” Tartum said, his anger was beginning to surface.

Jeth saw this and decided to press Tartum further. “Big words from someone that can’t even get themselves out of bed. Haven’t you been laying around for the past week or so? Come on you coward, grab that fancy light stick, and let’s get to it!”

Tartum had enough of Jeth’s mouth and refused to comment any further. His anger was simmering inside him and was enough to expel any grogginess left in his body. Standing up, Tartum put on his clothes. As he was about to don his cloak, Jeth stopped him.

“Enchanted cloaks aren’t the easiest things to find or make. I will be using daggers and don’t want to take the chance of cutting your cloak. Leave it.” Jeth’s tone let Tartum know the subject wasn’t up for debate. He regretted having to leave the cloak behind but couldn’t argue Jeth’s logic. He didn’t want any lucky shots damaging his favorite article of clothing.

Picking up his staff, Tartum took a moment to appreciate his weapon. As always, it made him feel powerful when he held it. Even more so today, since he knew he was going to use it to silence one of the most irritating men he’d ever met. A thought occured to him then; besides his master, he had never fought anyone else. He was excited to see how he would do against Jeth and his daggers.

Looking at Jeth, Tartum hisssed. “I’m ready; hope Vaund can repair your skull once I’ve cracked it.”

Jeth laughed in Tartum’s face “Before the day is over, it will be you on the ground screaming for Vaund’s healing.” The look in Jeth’s eyes was sinister. “Just like with eating the rat; I know I can make you do it.”

...

Jeth lead Tartum back down the hallway and up the stairs. He was laughing and joking with Tartum the whole way. Tartum said nothing. As far as he was concerned, the talking part was over. His anger was taking over, and he had every intention of letting it loose once they arrived at wherever Jeth was leading him.

They went up to the next floor and walked down another hallway. This hall was as wide as the one on Tartum’s floor, but the stone walls were covered by large planks of wood that were painted a beige color. There were many pictures and portraits of men and women Tartum didn’t know or recognize. The one thing about the portraits that caught Tartum’s attention immediately was that they all seemed grotesque. Some even boardered on obscene. The men and women featured in the paintings were horribly disfugured. Some were simply decapitated heads. Others had terrible gashes on their faces or bodies. The part that made Tartum’s skin crawl was the fact that all the people in the portraits were poseing,in a perfectly calm, almost serene posture. It was as if death in all its forms had posed for a final portrait. The feeling unsettled Tartum and he focused on following Jeth.

Suddenly, Jeth stopped and looked at the picture of a woman. Tartum was confused why Jeth would stop to admire one of the paintings and halt their progress. He didn’t like the fact that he had suddenly decided to become a connoisseur of artwork at this inoppurtune time. He was about to tell Jeth to hurry up when he saw intense sorrow in his eyes. With his curiosity peaked, Tartum looked at the portrait that had envoked such an emotional change in a man as two dimensional as Jeth.

The woman in the picture was ugly. Not just ugly, hideous. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that was so long it only stopped due to the boarder of the canvas. Her eyes were misaligned and were slanted independently of each other. One eye was blue and the other brown. Her face was heavily scarred and gave Tartum the impression she had been burned severely. She may have been pretty at one time, but Tartum assumed that was long ago. The scars were far from flattering, yet the artist seemed to have gone to great lengths to emphasize each one. Her teeth were butter yellow, and some were colored black. Tartum didn’t understand why Jeth would show such emotion towards such a person. In fact, Tartum couldn’t understand why the portrait had been commissioned, let alone hung up for all to see in the hallway of the guild.

“Who are these people?” Tartum asked.

Without looking away from the painting, Jeth answered. His voice sounded hollow and far away. “These are all the members that have died for the guild. If you die while carring out a job for the guild, Savall has your portrait painted and placed here as a reminder for everyone else. Only the strong survive, and this hallway is a reminder of what happens to the weak.”

“Who was she?” Tartum asked. His curiosity getting the better of him.

“She was my trainer. She didn’t look like this before, Tartum. Savall has the artist paint their portrait to include how they were killed. Some have nooses around their throats, others have big gaping wounds from knives, swords or arrows. Some of them are just heads, indicating decapitation or guillotine.” Jeth took a deep breath and continued. “She was killed on my first mission; we were in a grain warehouse taking what we needed for the guild. I picked up too much and lost my balance, knocked over a lantern she had lit so we could see. Do you know how flammable grain is, Tartum?”

Tartum nodded his head. He was the son of a farmer and knew how dangerous dried out plants and fire could be. Jeth never looked up to see his answer.

“The fire torched the entire building. I panicked, she got me out through a hole in the wall she had made. The fire quickly closed off the exit, and she was trapped inside. I can still hear her scream. Everytime I walk down this hall, I can hear it.” Jeth said. His voice was trailing off, and he spoke so quietly Tartum had to lean in to hear him. Tartum was beginning to think maybe Jeth was a human being afterall. In the middle of this contemplation, Jeth turned toward him suddenly with a sinister grin on his face.

“Naw! I’m just kidding! She was my trainer, sure, but she got caught and was burned for being a thief. Stupid bitch got herself killed on a simple pilfering mission!” with a laugh Jeth gave Tartum a shove and began walking down the hall.

“Come on you gullible twat! If you fell for that sob story then fighting you should be no challenge at all.” Jeth called over his shoulder.

Tartum was thoroughly disgusted, both at Jeth and at himself. Everything he knew about Jeth proved he had no soul. Why did he keep falling for his games? Every chance that man had, he made a fool out of him! Tartum had enough, today he would stop taking Jeth’s abuse and dish out some of his own. Today, Jeth would be the butt of the joke, and Tartum would be the one laughing. Tightening his grip on his staff, Tartum stalked after Jeth.

...

The hallway opened up into a large room. The room was shaped like a large wooden box. Only the floor was stone, the same flat, grey stone Tartum remembered from his time in the Null Box. The walls were covered in planks of wood, and there were two support beams in the center of the room. The walls were pitted and scarred from what looked to be a thousand battles. There was dried blood on the floor and even more on the walls. There looked to be some half hearted attempts to clean the areas, but whoever had been tasked to it must have given up quickly. There were no decorations or grand displays in this room. It was built for only one purpose...Combat.