“Good morning, Jade Mage! I hope you slept well.” he said. He seemed to be in a good mood.
“Morning, Rashlarr, are you expecting someone? I have some matters to discuss with you, but it can wait if you have company.” Tartum said.
Rashlarr smiled, “I knew you would be here as soon as you woke. I could see the questions forming in your mind the entire trip back. I’m actually surprised you didn’t say anything during the ride.” he said, holding up his hand he continued, “And no, I didn’t need a demon’s help to figure that out. You’re pretty easy to read, my friend.”
Tartum laughed a little at his joke. He hadn’t realized he had been so obvious about what he was thinking on the ride back. With Vaund busy attending Liddia, who had become quite fond of him when she was told who saved her life, and Elizabeth spending time with the other women, he had a lot of time to go over what had occurred inside the tower. So engrossed with his thoughts, he didn’t even consider anyone would take notice. With the cat out of the bag, Tartum decided to dispense with the small talk and get to his questions.
“Well, first off, I’d like you to teach me that spell that Zahut reflected back at you that caused you to almost die. Then, I’d like you to explain how in the hell he did that, and if you knew how to duplicate the spell.” Tartum explained. He couldn’t stop thinking about the battle. He desperately wanted to know those spells.
Rashlarr’s smile disappeared, and he looked to be debating his answer. “Well, my friend. I can show you how to cast the spell that disabled me. I call it Lines of Pain, and it’s one of my favorites. It requires a shed snake’s skin, and the beautiful part of the spell is that it’s usually non-lethal.” Tartum gave him a disapproving look, and Rashlarr laughed. “Let me explain, it usually doesn’t kill the target, but it causes them incredible pain that completely takes the fight out of them. The pain doesn’t stop until either the target dies, passes out, or you give the command for it to end. As you saw, it was very effective, unfortunately, Zahut was better protected than I realized, and I paid the price for my recklessness. To thank you for saving my life, I will teach you my spell.” he said.
As he finished his explanation, he reached into his robes and produced a large bag. He threw it to Tartum. He caught it easily, and he looked inside. He smiled when he saw the bag was full of snake skins; he really liked Rashlarr at the moment.
“Thank you!” Tartum said, earnestly.
Rashlarr smiled and nodded, Tartum thought that perhaps this man really was grateful for saving his life. He found himself hoping their friendship continued to grow.
“Now, as to your second question, I do know what the spell was…which is obvious. I don’t, however; know how to cast it, nor will Calimsha tell me if she knows. So the best I can do is tell you what I know, and hopefully, one day you’ll learn what to look for, in the off chance you’re fighting an evil kritchet caster again.” Rashlarr got a grim look on his face as he said that last part. Tartum could tell he wasn’t fond of either kritchet or how the battle went.
“The spell was a lot like our counter spell. It’s a modification of the base spell that seems to use gold as its component. Did you notice how the gold lining of his robes disappeared as he cast his spell? That’s what I’m assuming it was, anyway. In any case, the spell needs to be cast as an enemy caster is about to use a ranged spell on you. If done correctly, a magical shield appears and deflects the spell back at its source. It’s very effective, I can assure you. I remember the words he spoke, but I have no idea what, if any, gestures there are to the spell. I will study this, and if I figure anything out I will let you know.” he promised. Tartum believed him; their relationship had changed since the tower. Rashlarr seemed to trust Tartum now and treated him as an equal. Tartum was a little surprise by how good that made him feel. Hearing Rashlarr mention studying the deflection spell reminded Tartum of one more question he had.
“Another thing, Rashlarr…When we were inside the tower, we saw all those altars and experiments. Is it possible to use magic other than in premade spell form or scrolls? You told me the gods taught mortals how to use magic. They gave us spells and components and the ability to work with them to create impossible things. Is it actually possible for us to create new spells? How does one experiment with magic, without burning out or killing everyone in a four mile radius?” he asked.
Rashlarr looked troubled; it didn’t look like he wanted to answer the question, and Tartum felt his pulse quicken. The idea that he could create new spells, his own spells that no one had ever seen before, excited him more than learning a new spell did. He had to know! Rashlarr had to answer this question!
With a sigh, Rashlarr began to speak, “Tartum, that was something I hoped you wouldn’t have noticed. The short answer to your question is yes. You can create your own spells and experiment with magic.”
Tartum’s heart sang with his answer. The knowledge that he would soon be creating his own powerful and amazing spells almost brought tears of joy to his eyes. Rashlarr was shaking his head.
“No, Tartum, it’s not that easy. You can’t just start throwing random spell components out and infusing them with magic while babbling mix-matched words of power, in the hopes of creating a bunny. It’s a slow, tedious process that only highly skilled and lucky casters spend years studying, in order to find the correct inflection of a syllable to the words of a spell they are trying to compose. It can take lifetimes to create a new spell from scratch. As it is, most human casters pick up where a long dead master’s notes or journals have left off, and piece together the research over decades of experimentation. Only the long lived elves have any real hope of starting and finishing a new spell on their own. Lord Zahut wasn’t trying to create a new spell, he was using magic to warp and mutate humans to suit his own purpose. It is easier, but you saw how many people he went through in order to achieve the base level beast men we fought, and that town is the only one we know of where he did those experiments. There is no telling how many villages and kidnap victims he went through in order to get that level of success. For all we know, by killing him, we put an end to one of the greatest mass murders of our time. My point is, if you are going to experiment with magic, you do so by finding research notes or making a pact with a demon in order to have any real hope of enjoying the fruits of your labor.” he said. He took a sip from his cup and flinched at the taste. Tartum wondered why he drank it if it repulsed him so, but he figured it was something Calimsha made him do.
After another unsatisfying sip, Rashlarr continued. “Also, to move too fast with creation will always lead to death. Infusing too much magic into a spell component, using the wrong components, a mistake with the pronunciation of a new word of power, failing to gesture correctly, or miscalculating what the end result of the actual spell will do, has killed more casters than all the wars put together. It doesn’t take long for those with decent skill, like you, to begin to think they’re rubbing elbows with the gods, and in their arrogance, become a charred ruin in their rooms. I do not recommend you experiment with creation yet, Tartum. There are still plenty of difficult and wonderful spells out there for you to obtain, for you to waste your time trying to create a spell that probably already exists.” He finished his explanation and took a deep drink out of his cup. He grimaced hard and looked a little green after swallowing, but he kept it down and looked pleased with himself.
Tartum thought about what he said and felt his singing heart go silent and fall into his stomach. The idea of creating his own spell still appealed to him, but for it to take so long and with no margin for error, Tartum knew he wouldn’t be doing it anytime soon. Rashlarr’s last point rung true to him as well, there were a lot of spells still out there for him to learn, and they were at least a proven, safer, type of spells for him to cast. Reluctantly, he put the idea of experimenting with magic in the back of his mind. He promised himself that one day, when he was ready, he would attempt something small. Perhaps during one of his missions, he would find a ca
ster’s journal or research notes and have the opportunity to finish his life’s work. He made a note to look harder for things like that next time he was out.
Tartum sighed a little as his elation deflated. “So, you going to teach me that Lines of Pain spell or what?” Tartum asked, jokingly.
Rashlarr laughed and stood up, leaving his half empty cup on the table. “Yes, please, anything to get away from this terrible tea.” he said, as he half ran past Tartum. “To the training room!” he chuckled.
…
Tartum and Rashlarr spent the rest of the day practicing the Lines of Pain spell. It was no surprise to either of them that he mastered it so quickly, and by dinner he was out of snake skins. They met up with Elizabeth and Savall for dinner and enjoyed a good meal in the comfort of their compound. Savall informed them that they might see less of Vaund, due to the fact that Liddia had taken quite a liking to his shy mannerisms and innocence. She was very grateful to him for saving her life, and they were now having a sordid love affair. When Tartum asked if she knew he was really just a fifteen year old boy, Savall shrugged. He asked Tartum who he was to ruin a boy’s fun, and asked him if he wouldn’t have killed in order to have a woman like Liddia when he was Vaund’s age. Besides, as far as Liddia was concerned, Vaund was a 40 year old man, very close to her own age. They all had a good laugh at that, although it still stung Tartum that his friend’s life was being cut so short. He took comfort in the fact that he was definitely living it to the fullest!
The next five months were a blur of missions and magical study. Tartum went on missions as Savall doled them out. He almost always worked alone now, and he preferred it that way. As far as he was concerned, he wouldn’t take on a partner again unless it was Elizabeth. His collection of treasure was steadily growing, and he spent much of it trading with Shu-Shu to replenish his supplies and buy new pouches when she had them. She was still as crazy as ever and remembered him immediately when he walked into her shop. She claimed to have heard he was dead, killed by a thief known as The Jade Mage. His laughter had thrown her off badly, and Tartum explained that the Jade Mage had no interest in him. They had long talks that mostly involved Shu-Shu babbling about one subject that blended into another so seamlessly that before he knew it, they were talking about how magic was as delicious as tree mold that burned like ice. There were few things in life Tartum enjoyed more than listening to Shu-Shu’s rants, he loved to see where her logic took the conversation and was never disappointed by the results.
Sometimes while she was ranting, Tartum perused her components and magical wares; which amounted to very little. Most of what she had on her shelves was junk or so old it was useless. She was able to get him a steady supply of snake skins and leopard frog tongues on a fairly regular basis, however, that alone made her worth her weight in gold. He always made sure that when he paid her, he overpaid a lot. Tartum worried that he never saw anyone else buy anything from her and didn’t want her to have to close up her shop because of it. She never seemed to mind, and Tartum noticed she always was able to get him what he needed a few days after mentioning it. It was a relationship he found both rewarding and indispensible.
When he wasn’t out on a mission or chatting with Shu-Shu, he divided his time between Elizabeth and his magic. About a month after the Rebirth mission, Tartum was up late studying his spell book, trying to unlock a new spell, when for no discernible reason, the book flashed in his hand and suddenly another page made perfect sense. He was thrilled, until he saw what the spell was. Summon Water. Tartum couldn’t think of a more useless spell, but instead of allowing himself to be discouraged, he read the steps to his new spell so he could master it. It took some effort, but he was able to beat back his disappointment by thinking of how his other spells had a multitude of uses if he just got a little creative with them. He hoped this one would prove useful at some point.
The spell was simple, and the component required was air. This had confused Tartum at first, but the spell said to place his right index finger onto the brim of any container and then recite the words of power. It explained to channel his magic into the receptacle through his index finger. As it flowed out of him, it would change the air into water and fill the container. It could not be used to fill a valley or a room, however. The spell somehow knew if he was trying to cheat it, and the magic wouldn’t flow if he removed his finger from the vessel, or if the area he was trying to fill with water wasn’t created for the purpose. Cups, pitchers, buckets, bowls of all shapes and sizes were fine, but a hole in the floor or a ditch in the ground wouldn’t allow the spell to work. The sentience of the spell surprised Tartum, and after a few more experiments, he decided trying to trick the spell into working on different mediums was a fool’s errand. The water was clean and refreshing, but he couldn’t determine a practical use for the spell, unless there was a drought or some sort of water shortage. As it was, the rainy season was upon them, and Saroth had all the water it could use and then some.
Tartum took a break from unlocking spells in his book for a while and instead examined the ring he had taken off Lord Zahut. He was positive it was magical, because when he channeled magic into it, he felt the ring push back on his flow ever so slightly. The triangular stone that adorned it moved freely at his slightest touch, but Tartum couldn’t figure out what, if anything, that movement signified. He played with it so often it became something he did absently to pass time or when he was deep in thought. Nothing had ever come of it, and he never brought it up to Rashlarr, partly because he wanted to figure it out himself, and partly because he was worried he might try to take it from him.
His relationship with Elizabeth became stronger over the months. She began referring to him as her little “kritchet slayer” and took no end of enjoyment for calling him “Jade Mage” when they were fooling around. They went out on dates into the city as often as they could, usually with Buddy in tow. Tartum felt bad for leaving him behind with Vaund almost never around anymore. If Buddy noticed, he gave no sign. He was as happy and loyal as he’d ever been. Elizabeth didn’t mind when Buddy came along and was sad when they had to leave him behind. They spent much of their free time at Sasha’s tavern dancing, drinking, talking, making love, and numerous other entertaining things that Sasha brought them to enjoy.
One day, Sasha brought them a wicked looking bowl. It was made of clay and had four very short tubes extending out of the top. Sasha put a handful of dried plant leaves into the bowl and then set them on fire. She then placed a lid on the bowl and locked it shut. Tartum watched as smoke began to funnel through the four small flues and into the room. The smoke was thick with a blue hue to it that made Tartum both curious and nervous at the same time. When he breathed it in, it felt terrible and smelled like a wet, burning animal. The sensation made him cough and drool uncontrollably. He did not enjoy the experience, but when he went to remove the bowl Sasha and Elizabeth stopped him and told him to wait. He did as he was bid but put his sleeve over his nose and mouth. He found the smell toxic and even through his sleeve some of the smoke made it into his lungs. After a while, he noticed his head began to feel fuzzy, and he began getting more and more relaxed. When he looked at Elizabeth and Sasha, they were leaning back and smiling, they occasionally laughed, and Tartum found focusing on anything impossible.
Not being able to think bothered Tartum, but he couldn’t understand why. Instinctively, he tried to open himself to the magic and found he couldn’t do it. Panic took him then, and he began having flashbacks to his time in the null box. In his muddled state, he saw the bowl as a portable null box and attacked it. He knocked it off the table and watched as it smashed into pieces on the floor. He tried again, unsuccessfully, to open himself to the magic. His panic increased, and he suddenly wanted out of the room he was in. He tore at the walls and doors of the room; for the life of him, he couldn’t recall how he had gotten in there. Once he realized he couldn’t get out of the room, he found a corner and curled into fetal position rocking back and forth, begg
ing to be let out. When Elizabeth and Sasha tried to calm him down, he lashed out at them. He couldn’t remember who they were and became convinced they had trapped him in a null box. He was building up the nerve to attack them when Sasha threw an orange powder in his face that immediately cleared his head but made him sneeze violently for ten minutes.
Sasha apologized and told him the plant she had burned for them was supposed to relax him. She said it was a derivative of the kosar plant and very popular amongst royalty. Tartum didn’t like it, not so much because of the way it affected him but due to the fact it had taken away his ability to use magic. Having his link to magic removed from him against his will was intolerable. After he explained that to them, the women had laughed and said something about how funny boys and their toys were. Tartum didn’t care; anytime he saw Sasha take out anything that resembled that damned bowl, he left the room. He was usually followed by jeers and protests from Elizabeth and Sasha. He didn’t mind, while they were in a daze, it gave him time to study his spells and be alone in Sasha’s very comfortable tavern with his thoughts.
They had many dates that didn’t involve being drugged as well. A traveling circus came though the city, and they had no end of enjoyment watching the acrobatics of the performers and the feats of strength made by the men and women of the circus. He watched as a stinger tamer got his pack of six stingers to use their quills to spell out the word “SAROTH” on the wall of their enclosure. He marveled at the sight of a dwarf wrestling with an ogre. It was the first time Tartum had ever seen a dwarf, and he thought they looked like a much shorter version of Ecker. The ogre was a lot smaller than Gurth had been, but their wrestling had been incredibly entertaining so when the people in the audience began tossing a few coins into the ring, Tartum threw a medium sized emerald into the ring. No one but Elizabeth saw him do it, and she pinched him playfully for doing so. When the dwarf saw the emerald, he dove on top of it, and the next twenty minutes saw the ogre trying to take the gemstone from the dwarf and a delightful, real fight ensued. To the crowd’s astonishment and enjoyment, the dwarf was actually able to beat the ogre unconscious and walked off the stage with his prize to the enthusiastic applause of the entire audience.
The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 2 Page 13
