The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 2

by William D. Latoria

  Rashlarr was silent a moment while he communed with Calimsha. “She says it’s a crudely made magical laboratory. Lord Zahut is apparently experimenting on the townspeople to make something. Although what it is he’s trying…to…“Rashlarr’s voice trailed off as the answer hit them at the same time.

  Lord Zahut was using the male populace of Rebirth to create the beast men they encountered in the initial battle. The beast men they had killed were the twisted remains of the men and teenage boys of Rebirth. This building was the kritchet’s factory, manufacturing a savage new race made from men and magic. It was an abomination, a hideous nightmare straight out of his darkest fears. He could see how it all worked now that he understood its purpose. Lord Zahut strapped down the first of his victims on the four small altars in the seating area of the town hall. He then began experimenting with his victims figuring out what magical enchantments worked and which ones didn’t. The pile of body parts in the middle of the room was proof he had suffered numerous failures. Once he had achieved enough success, he took that knowledge and used it on a fresh victim on the bigger altar to create his army of beast men. Judging by the fresh blood on the altar, he still hadn’t perfected his spell yet but was getting close. Tartum knew that although the beast men had been easily defeated today, if Lord Zahut ever perfected his experiment the next battle they had might end much differently, and much worse, than this one had. He wondered how well Saroth would fare if Lord Zahut had perfected his twisted human abominations and had sieged the city given enough time. He wondered how the guild would have fared if Zahut knew they were coming. Just how lucky they had gotten today was beginning to sink in, and Tartum felt the first tendrils of fear beginning to form inside his brain.

  “Rashlarr…We can’t’ allow him to escape and start over, if he perfects this spell, if he gathers enough people to twist into those beast men…” Tartum couldn’t finish.

  Rashlarr finished the thought for him. “He’ll be close to unstoppable. This just became a lot more important than completing our mission successfully. If we don’t stop him, in a year from now he could be knocking on Saroth’s doorstep, and this time he’ll be prepared!” Rashlarr sounded nervous for the first time.

  The weight of the situation hit Tartum hard, but he found that instead of diminishing his resolve, it was bolstering it. Lord Zahut had to die, he needed to die, this had to happen now, or the next time they tried to kill him, it would be at a much higher cost.

  Reaching into his pouch, he began to fill his hand with sulfur, Rashlarr gave him a puzzled look.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

  Tartum looked up at him, confused that Rashlarr would ask him a question like that when the answer was so obvious. “Umm, I’m going to bring this nightmare down. I’m going to cast a fireball so large that the whole building will vaporize.” He said.

  Rashlarr looked disappointed. “And kill us and everyone outside along with it? Doing that does not guarantee you will kill the kritchet either. There are spells that can protect him from even your fancy green fireballs, Tartum. I’m afraid we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way. Face-to-face, and my guess is he’ll be up those stairs in one of the top areas. Probably waiting for us, I’d imagine.” Rashlarr looked reserved to his fate. There was no sign of fear or uneasiness from him anymore. He almost looked serene.

  “LIGHT!” Tartum barked, and his staff lit up the entire room. The pull on his magic was strong but nothing he wasn’t accustomed to. He barely felt it anymore. Rashlarr looked at him again with confusion in his eyes.

  Tartum returned his gaze and shrugged. “If he knows we’re here, we might as well turn on the lights. No point in falling down the stairs because Zahut is a terrible host.” he joked. He was coming to terms with their situation as well. The joke made Rashlarr chuckle, but it was completely lost on the boy who now looked at them like they were crazy. Tartum didn’t care; he wanted to face this kritchet. For some reason the thought of testing his strength against another caster for the first time excited him.

  Motioning for the boy to follow, Rashlarr and Tartum began to walk up the stairs towards the top of the kritchet’s tower.

  …

  Tartum found that the higher up into the tower they went, the more he wanted to leave. The light from his staff threw shadows on the walls that gave him the impression things were lashing out at them. More than once during their ascent, he found himself flinching at a perceived threat, only to realize it was nothing. He didn’t dare dim his light, however, the railing around the staircase had been removed, and from what he could see, there were no guardrails along the top floor to stop him from falling over the side. Nothing would ruin his day more than a twenty foot drop into the nightmare on the first floor.

  When he finally reached the top of the stairs, it felt like a victory. The walls and floor weren’t coated with the fleshy substance like the walls and floors on the bottom floor. The stink and humidity were the same, but he was beginning to get used to it. At the top of the staircase was a balcony of sorts that overlooked the bottom floor. Tartum had no idea what this floor had been used for prior to Lord Zahut’s takeover. Maybe to watch the townspeople as they listened to whoever was on stage, perhaps it was a standing area for when whatever events they used to have here sold out. Who knows? Now it served as a walkway that led to the newly added portion of the building; Lord Zahut’s tower.

  The walkway extended out about ten feet and became a tunnel that led up towards the new top floor. Tartum remembered the spiraling wooden shafts he had seen outside the building that twisted and extended up and around the structure and assumed he must be looking inside one of those tunnels now. He was about to walk up it, when the young caster with them grabbed his cloak. Tartum turned to see why the boy had stopped him when something along the entranceway caught his attention. A thin, taught line was strung, ankle high, in the opening between where the walkways ended and the tunnel began. The boy took out a pair of scissors and cut the line, disarming whatever life ending trap it would have triggered.

  “Thank you.” Tartum said.

  Tartum’s young rescuer looked up at him with disgust. “My name is Uchan, Jade Mage. You should proceed with a lot more care. Master Nebin would have your toes broken for missing such an obvious trap.” he said, without any attempt to hide his contempt.

  Tartum was taken aback by the boy’s words. Although, he wasn’t surprised to learn that he was one of Nebin’s apprentices. “Well then, Uchan. Please, lead the way.” Tartum motioned for him to take point.

  Giving him a look that reminded Tartum of the way Jeth tried to look down his nose at him, the boy began walking down the tunnel. Giving Rashlarr an amused shrug, he followed after him.

  The tunnel wound up further than Tartum thought it would, and just as he thought they were never going to reach their destination, it opened up into a large room that reminded Tartum of the training room back in the compound.

  The room was shaped like a circle and there were multiple entrances and exits provided by the multitude of twisting wooden hallways like the one they had just come from. The entire room was made from materials salvaged from the town’s buildings and homes. Tartum saw bits of wooden furniture nailed together to seal gaps in the ceiling and floor. The room was barren and about fifty yards in diameter. Nothing about it was terribly impressive except the fact it existed.

  In the middle of the room, was Lord Zahut. Tartum couldn’t believe what he was looking at. The creature was human sized, but that’s where the similarities ended. Its face had two large kaleidoscope eyes like a fly, only each was the size of a human head. There were hairs lining the face of the creature with a humanoid mouth that had a pair of large mandibles jutting out of it, that constantly dripped a thick white substance. It was wearing a dark blue robe that had a sheen to it that took Tartum’s breath away. It was lined with a golden cord that almost looked out of place and flowed down covering most of its body. The parts of the creature he co
uld see were a rich purple in color and seemed slick and wet. The only thing Tartum could compare it to was a crossbreed between a human and an ant. It held a remarkable staff that seemed to be made from the scales of a multicolored reptile. The scales were small at the base and were shaped to look like a shovel, as he looked up the shaft the scales got bigger and the colors were bolder. Reds, blues, greens, yellows, and oranges seemed to be placed at random to give the staff a truly unique look. The top of the staff branched off into three points that made it look more like a trident, and there were a collection of bones and feathers hung from the base of the tips.

  Tartum was positive this was the kritchet from the descriptions Savall had given him. Tartum was fascinated with the creature and stood there spellbound by its alien appearance. Lord Zahut was in the middle of casting what sounded like a very complicated spell, there was a small vortex forming in front of him, and it seemed to require all of his attention to keep it there. As it was, he had given no sign he had noticed their presence. In the back of his mind, Tartum knew he should attack him now, but he couldn’t get past how astonished he was by Zahut’s appearance. He had never seen anything as wonderful, nor as different, as the kritchet was.

  Uchan had no such hang-ups. “FOR PROFIT AND GLORY!!!” he yelled, and sprinted past them with his staff held over his head like a spear. Uchan’s sudden attack startled Tartum out of his daze and appeared to have a similar effect on Rashlarr. They watched as Uchan quickly closed the distance between himself and Lord Zahut and threw his staff at him. His throw stuck true and connected with his chest resulting in a hollow thud. Tartum noticed that the sheen to Lord Zahut’s robes diminished greatly after the staff hit him; they now looked rather plain and unimpressive. Tartum saw the vortex disappear and the kritchet take notice of them for the first time.

  It moved with alarming speed, as it snatched a small bone off its staff and quickly said the words to a spell. It flung the small bone at Uchan and as it sailed towards him the bone morphed into a spear just as it pierced Uchan’s body and sent him flying across the room, pinning him to the wall. The bone spear had caught Uchan in the stomach now held him a foot above the ground. He tried to scream as the reality of his situation hit him, but all that came out of his mouth was a wet gurgling sound. His face became ashen, and he slumped forward.

  Tartum turned his attention back to Zahut and saw he was in the middle of casting another spell. He was talking too fast to make out the words, but the copper rod he was rubbing between his hands was all the information Tartum needed. He threw himself out of the way as Zahut completed his spell and a lightning bolt flew past him and down the tunnel they had just come, from detonating inside. The tunnel shuddered and fell with a thunderous crash to the ground below. Tartum looked away from the destroyed tunnel and back to where he last saw Lord Zahut. He had another copper rod in his hands but now he was standing over him in triumph. His spell was almost complete, and Tartum knew he couldn’t escape, he found he wasn’t scared like he thought he should be. He was surprised to find he was more curious about what it was going to feel like to be hit by a lightning bolt than he was afraid of death.

  A strange wave of force slammed into Lord Zahut just as he was a syllable away from finishing his spell. It flung him across the room and left Tartum spinning like a top. When the world finally stopped moving, Tartum saw that Rashlarr had saved him with his version of the Dragon’s Scream spell.

  “Get up, you idiot! He’s not dead yet!” Rashlarr shrieked at him.

  Tartum didn’t ask any questions; he jumped to his feet and rounded on Lord Zahut as he reached for the first spell component he could find. Lord Zahut was picking himself up off the ground. Tartum saw that Rashlarr’s spell had knocked the kritchet hard against the wall. The impact had dazed the creature, and Tartum saw his chance. His hands found his last two rose petals and without hesitation, Tartum infused them with his magic and threw the petals in front of him.

  “Moro-yet krat-tu-veyin doro-peth!” he said and the petals became the white hot orbs he needed.

  “TORROTH TORROTH!!!” he commanded, and his fire orbs shot towards Lord Zahut.

  The kritchet saw the orbs flying at him and appeared unimpressed. He recovered his staff with a fluid forward roll and stood just in time to knock away the orbs. Instead of killing him, the orbs burned through his staff and cut it into three pieces. Lord Zahut threw the pieces to the floor and began to laugh.

  “I expected far more than farmer’s magic from the great and powerful Jade Mage.” Zahut said.

  The way the creature talked was as alien as it looked. The chittering and clicking noises he uttered almost made his words unintelligible. It was only with effort that he was able to make sense of what he was saying. When he realized what he had said, what he had called him, he was shocked. Tartum didn’t know if he should feel pride or terror at the fact the kritchet knew who he was. “How do you know who I am?” he asked.

  Lord Zahut laughed again, “Did you honestly think that a half-breed like you, that was trained by a demon possessed, low talent caster like Rashlarr would escape notice?” The tone of his voice indicated that he thought very little of Tartum’s deductive reasoning skills.

  The revelation hit Tartum like a brick. That’s what Calimsha was! A demon! One of the original races banished from their realm by the gods for daring to kill an immortal! Tartum was upset that after all this time, he hadn’t figured out that she was a demon and not just some random spirit. Now that he knew, it seemed so obvious. It was still shocking to find out an actual member of the original races was right here in front of him, capable of teaching him so many ancient and lost spells. This whole day had played hell on his perception of reality. He didn’t know how many more revelations he could endure.

  Lord Zahut reached into his sleeves and brought something out that looked like hair. Closing his hands around it, he began to cast another spell. Tartum wasn’t about to give him the chance. Focusing the magic coursing through him directly at Zahut, Tartum cast his counter spell.

  “Dero-dero-dero!” he yelled. As he said the words he felt the flow of his magic change as it pulsed out of him and tore through Zahut’s body with each pronunciation of the word. The effect did little to him physically, but his spell was interrupted and the magical backlash wracked him with pain. He fell to a knee and clutched at his chest and head. Rashlarr stepped forward with an old snake skin in his hand and began to cast a spell Tartum had never seen before.

  “Shrid-uro niquid ma-ta-dwego. Vajawa heck mono!” as he spoke the words of power to this new spell, Tartum watched as the snake skin enveloped his right hand and began to glow dark blue. The glow retreated to the tips of his fingers and got brighter and brighter until after a few moments, five dark blue lines shot out of his fingertips and towards Lord Zahut. Tartum watched them spiral towards the kritchet. At the last moment Lord Zahut grasped the trim of his cloak and began to speak.

  “Soradero-soradero-soradero!” Tartum heard him say in his clicking chitterous voice. The gold trim around his robes fell away and formed a concave shield between him and the incoming spell. As the dark blue lines of Rashlarr’s spell hit it, Tartum saw them rebound away and slam into Rashlarr knocking him to the ground. He spasmed and screamed in pain; he clawed at his face and chest and kicked his feet. Tears fell from his eyes as his screams amplified to match his agony. He screamed until his voice gave out, and his face turned bright red. Tartum wanted to help him but had no idea what to do or why he was in pain. He assumed it was the spell, but he didn’t know what the spell was or how to dispel it. He felt useless and scared. He stood there helplessly as Rashlarr’s soundless screams brought him to the edge of madness, and finally he watched as his eyes rolled back inside his head and his body went limp.

  Tartum didn’t know if he had passed out or if he had just watched his friend die. He didn’t care; Zahut had taken the lives of the men of Rebirth, enslaved and broke the souls of hundreds, knew who he was, killed Uchan, and now he ha
d caused his former master incredible suffering and possibly death. All of this paled in comparison to one fact Tartum now brooded over.

  The son of a bitch had tried to kill him.

  Tartum’s vision went red as he reached into his pouches. He didn’t care what component he picked up, the pouch he had his hand in now felt like rods, they would do.

  “Your demon possessed friend is dead, and now it’s just you and I, Jade Mage.” Zahut boasted. His voice took on a sinister sound now and the chittering grated on Tartum’s nerves. “He screamed quite extraordinarily for someone that should be used to pain, considering he’s a host to a demon. They are known for their ability to induce wonderful amounts of pain to their vessels if they desire.” The creature was laughing now…Tartum began to feel his body quiver with rage.

  “Will you scream as well for me, Jade Mage? Will you scream like your friend did? Perhaps I will keep you alive as my pet so you can witness what I do to your Elizabeth when I get my claws on her…” he hissed. His final barb sent Tartum over the edge.

  “Yuik-rena toem-urthma!” Tartum bellowed as he rubbed the copper rods together. They burst into crackling energy; Tartum knew the kritchet would evade his lightning bolts and was prepared for this. He didn’t want to kill him at a distance; he wanted the soulless prick up close and personal. He wanted to watch him suffer.

  “Za-tan!!” he shouted as fiercely as his rage allowed. The lightning bolt flew from his hands and blasted into the ground near Lord Zahut. The kritchet dove out of the way with plenty of time to spare and began to advance on Tartum.

  Good, Tartum thought. Just come a little closer, you son of a bitch…let me get my hands on you. he thought to himself.

  “Za-tan!!” “Za-tan!!” “Za-tan!!” he commanded again and again. Each time the lightning bolt struck a section of the flooring near Zahut forcing him to come closer. Tartum could see the smile on his face; he was falling for his bluff beautifully!