The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 (45 page)

Tartum was confused. Seeing Vaund in the room always meant that he was going to be in pain before the end of the day. He liked Vaund as a person but hated seeing him. He began to understand why Vaund always looked so sad. Everyone knew that if he was around, bad things were about to happen to them.

Having no time to ponder over Vaund’s social problems, Tartum cleared his head and focused on his masters. “Real world training, master?” Tartum reverted to the singular title, in order to keep his end of the bargain of keeping Calimsha’s presence secret. The widening smile on Rashlarr’s face was the only acknowledgement he recieved that she noticed. It was enough to let him know he had made the correct choice.

“Yes, you will be pitted against enemies that are going to do everything in their power to kill you. If you fail, well...you’ll probably die. Vaund is here to see to it that doesn’t happen...but with training like this there’s no guarantee. The threats you’re going to face are real, so you should treat it as such. There are no rules or expectations. Survive anyway you can. Magic, melee, subterfuge, I don’t care. Kill or subdue your opponents as quickly as you can. They are going to do the same.” Rashlarr warned. He handed Tartum a few bags full of the components he would need to cast his spells. Hastily, Tartum attached them to his belt and sleeves. He didn’t fully understand what was going on, but he knew he was in danger and therefore wasted no time in asking for explanations. He knew enough about how the guild trained to know that questions at the wrong time would get you killed.

Reaching into his belt, Tartum pulled out a sapphire and began casting his dome spell.
“Esotlie bon-bon-ytei.”
The sapphire rose up as the wall began to come down.
“Duun-fwalyte katai romo-wei.”
The sapphire began to glow green, and somewhere outside his field of view Tartum heard Vaund gasp.
“Tun-turu vet-jerwat lei!”
he finished, and the green sapphire bubble engulfed him. Tartum’s skin took on the green sheen that had given him his nickname. The wall finished its descent into the floor, and Tartum got his first look at the enemy he would be facing.

At first, Tartum thought it was a very large alligator. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the animal was not covered in scales but in quills, like on a porcupine. Its body was similar in shape to an alligator but far better muscled and with a shorter snout. The teeth inside its mouth were wicked, long, and glistening with saliva. Tartum had never seen anything like it in his life, and for a moment was mesmerized by it. Upon seeing Tartum, the creature didn’t share his fascination and bounded towards him. The sudden movement shocked Tartum out of his stupor, and frantically, he fumbled for a copper rod. Unaccustomed to casting while panicked, Tartum’s flailing hands dropped the rod before he could say the first word of his spell. The deranged porcupine-alligator thing had no misconceptions and threw itself at Tartum. More on instinct than anything deliberate, Tartum swung his staff in a desperate attempt to save his life. His staff struck true, and the animal was knocked away in midair. The beast was not without melee talent of its own, however, and used the momentum of its redirection to swing its tail at Tartum and land a telling blow off his thigh. The hit should have broken his leg, but the dome spell Tartum had gotten off just before the attack absorbed the damage and saved his life. Holding his staff defensively in front of him, Tartum quickly backed away from the beast and tried to get control of his racing mind. He was so scared he could barely breathe, let alone form a plan of attack. Every fiber of his being told him to flee, but a quick look around the room showed the door was gone, and that Rashlarr and Vaund were protected by some sort of magical barrier.

With retreat out of the question, Tartum realized that he was forced to fight. He had backed away enough that there was about sixty yards between him and the creature, so he took a moment to try and calm down. He knew he had to focus and regain control of his mind if he had any hope of surviving this. Maybe the creature could sense his guard drop, or maybe it was just coincidence, because just as Tartum was getting a grasp on his situation, the creature hissed and whipped its tail sending a dozen quills racing across the gap between them. This attack, Tartum was confident he could avoid, thanks to his training with Elizabeth. With a practiced motion, Tartum used his staff to deflect the majority of the quills away from him; getting his leg out of the way just as the two remaining quills were about to strike home. The creature roared in outrage at its failure and charged once again. Tartum’s confidence was bolstered by his ability to avoid the quills, and as the creature bounded towards him, he reached down into his pouch and pulled out a few rose petals. They were dry from being in the pouch for so long, but they would do the trick. The creature was only thirty yards away now and gaining speed. Holding his handful of petals out in front of him, Tartum began to cast his spell as he released them in a sweeping arc.

“Moro-yet krat-tu-veyin doro-peth!”
he spoke. The three rose petals stopped in midair and burst into white hot flame. Tartum barely noticed the change; he was completely focused on the creature that was now fifteen yards away and closing. It was frothing as the mouth and with his heightened senses Tartum saw that what he thought was saliva was actually some sort of corrosive fluid. The spit that poured from the beast’s mouth sizzled as it hit the ground. His spell was ready; Tartum hesitated just long enough to savor the moment. Something about it seemed familiar, a vague feeling he had done this before, long ago, crossed his mind. The feeling was powerful and made him feel invincible. All doubt in himself was gone in that moment. Looking the beast in the eyes as it came for him Tartum smiled. He already knew who would be the victor in this battle.

“Torroth! Torroth! Torroth!”
he yelled and the three orbs flew into the beast. Where the orbs hit, flesh, bone, and quill were burned away, leaving small holes in the creature’s body. With a whimper, the beast fell, its momentum causing it to roll end over end before coming to rest a foot away from where Tartum stood. Releasing his hold on the magic, Tartum leaned heavily on his staff and stood victorious over his kill. He wanted to roar his triumph, he wanted to bend over and take a bite out of his skull. He wanted to jump up and down, cheering that he had survived and beaten whatever this thing was. He wanted to cry. He replayed the fight over and over in his head; remembering every detail, reliving every emotion. The entire fight lasted less than a minute, but it had felt like a lifetime. Not knowing which emotion to indulge, Tartum simply stood over the beast and looked at it. He decided that doing nothing was the best course of action. He was afraid that if he tried to do anything more he would collapse, and he didn’t want his moment of victory to be spoiled by weakness.

Vaund made it to Tartum first and put his arm around him to offer support. Placing his hand on Tartum’s chest, he spoke his words of healing magic, and Tartum felt his exhaustion pass. Thanking Vaund, he looked up to where Rashlarr stood and waited for his assessment. Rashlarr looked down at the beast for a moment or two and then looked up. Tartum thought he seemed impressed.

“Good kill, Jade Mage, good kill indeed. I haven’t seen a recruit come out of a fight with a Stinger of this size, without injury, in a long time...a
very
long time. Entertaining!” Rashlarr said. The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. He still found himself grimacing when Rashlarr called him Jade Mage, he couldn’t shake the self-conscious feeling it gave him, and he had to stop himself from trying to cover his skin whenever he called him that. Even with him using the nickname, Rashlarr’s praise made him feel very proud of his accomplishment.

Gently removing Vaund’s arm from around him, Tartum stood up straight and addressed Rashlarr, “Thank you, Master. Although, if I hadn’t gotten the dome spell off before the fight, I’m pretty sure my leg would be broken and that...Stinger...would now be chewing on my corpse.” As proud as he was of his kill, Tartum refused to ignore the fact that a lucky break had helped him survive this unexpected battle. Rashlarr waved away his rebuttal.

“No, apprentice, you remembered your training and saved your own life. Most casters would have gone for a bit of sulfur or a copper rod. Some would have forgone magic altogether and tried to best the beast with their melee talents alone. Whether accidental or intentional, you were smart enough to put up a defensive spell rather than focus on the offensive, and you’re right; it saved your life.” He said.

Tartum mulled over what his master told him and decided he was right. He also made a mental note to always have the dome spell up. The way the guild liked to test him with little to no warning made the idea of explaining his green skin pale in comparison to explaining why a Stinger was gnawing on his face. Taking another sapphire out of his pouch, Tartum placed it on the ground and began to recast his dome spell.

Vaund walked over to Rashlarr with his hand out, “I won the wager, Rashlarr. Pay up.” he said. Rashlarr looked at Vaund and then at his hand, rolling his eyes, he reached into his sleeve and produced a coin. Thrusting the coin into his outstretched hand, Rashlarr gave a weak smile, “Yea, I was hoping you had forgotten our bet.” He said.

Finishing his spell, Tartum looked at the both of them with a puzzled look on his face, “Bet?” he asked.

Rashlarr smiled as he answered, “Vaund said you’d kill the Stinger. I bet on the Stinger. Guess I should have had more faith in you, Jade Mage. I’ll be sure to bet on you from now on.” And with that explanation, both he and Vaund walked back to their chairs. Sitting down, Rashlarr readdressed Tartum.

“Are you ready for the next challenge?” his tone let Tartum know he had better be.

...

A cage was brought out, and inside were three wicked looking creatures. They were around four feet tall, and they seemed to be some sort of bird-men. Their bodies were completely feathered, although they seemed to be covered more in filth and grime than anything else. They had beaks where their mouths should have been, and their hands weren’t wings so much, as completely feathered hands. They were making a terrible racket that sounded like a combination of birds chirping and cats growling. Tartum assumed this was their version of speech, which made him wonder what they were saying. He assumed something along the lines of “Let us out!” and “We want to kill Tartum!” They looked at him with a seething hatred that made his skin crawl. It was painfully clear that these bird creatures were as intent on killing him as the stinger had been before. Looking over at the stinger’s corpse that still lay on the floor, Tartum gathered his courage and prepared himself for battle.

Without warning, the floor of the training room erupted with movement. Slabs of wall appeared, seemingly at random, all over the room. They rose up to varying heights, but all of them were about three feet wide. Not sure about what was happening, Tartum shot a look at Rashlarr, hoping for a clue as to what was going on. Rashlarr was already looking at him, but when Tartum motioned towards the barriers, he simply shrugged and pointed. Looking the direction his master was pointing, he saw the cage door was open, and the bird men were arming themselves at a weapons cache he hadn’t noticed before. The weapons they armed themselves with were spears and slings. The barriers suddenly made perfect sense, and Tartum ducked behind one as a rock whistled over his head.

Reaching into his bag, Tartum pulled out a small amount of sulfur. Peaking around the wall, he saw two of the bird-things trying to get around his right flank. The third one was nowhere to be seen. The shot he had at the two flanking birds was too good to pass up, so he put the missing bird man out of his mind and began to cast his fireball at the lead, flanking bird. With a little luck, he thought he could kill two birds with one shot; the pun wasn’t lost on Tartum, and he chuckled to himself. This fight was going to be easy!

“
Doctay-von-we.”
He said quietly, so not to give away his position. The sulfur leapt to bright green, fiery life in his hand. It was the size of a large melon, but Tartum thought it would be more than enough to get the job done. Even though he had cast this spell many times, he still loved the feeling it gave him to hold so much power in the palm of his hand. Splitting his attention and focusing his will on the lead bird man, Tartum gave the command
“Beath!”
His fireball sailed off at its target.

Tartum was so intent on watching his fireball’s trajectory that he almost didn’t notice the third bird man coming up to his left. He ducked back behind the wall just in time, and the rock that would have dissipated his dome spell smashed into the barrier instead. Before Tartum could process what had just happened, the bird man jumped over the wall and started frantically jabbing at him with its spear.

Bringing up his staff defensively, Tartum desperately fought off the attacks of his enraged assailant. Somewhere in the background, Tartum’s subconscious registered that his fireball had detonated, but if it had hit anything he had no clue. His opponent might have been short in stature, but his prowess with that spear almost equaled Tartum’s skill with a staff.
Almost
. The attacks were numerous and vicious, but Tartum noticed after a few exchanges that they were the attacks of a crazed murderer rather than from someone with any real martial skill. Tartum batted away a series of wild jabs made by the bird man and endured its constant barrages of annoying chirping, growling sounds. Tartum didn’t have to be a linguist to know that this creature was threatening his life with every syllable. The look in its eyes was pure hate, but Tartum also saw intelligence, and fear. It stunned him how human the bird man’s eyes were. Dodging yet another flurry of wild stabs Tartum saw what he was waiting for. The bird man’s attacks were decreasing in intensity, it was getting tired and that gave Tartum the opening he needed. Reversing a sloppy thrust, Tartum used the momentum to shove his opponent back. The sudden counter attack had the desired effect and the bird man stumbled backwards, not giving it a moment to recover Tartum brought his staff down hard in an attempt to crush its skull. To the creature’s credit it was able to get its spear up in time to deflect Tartum’s blow but it came at a high cost as Tartum’s superior quality staff smashed through the bird man’s wooden spear and the heavy, mushroom top of Tartum’s staff crushed its rib cage.