The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 2

by William D. Latoria

  As he finished his announcement, a large, black metal cage was pushed into the pit from a door in the side of the pit. A huge feline animal was inside slashing and roaring at the cage. Tartum had only ever seen one at a distance, and it hadn’t been trying to be ferocious at the time. In fact it began mating with a unicorn, if he remembered correctly. The one in the pit was definitely not trying to mate, it wanted out of that cage so it could take out its rage on Hammond and everyone else in the building. Suddenly being so close to the pit seemed like a terrible idea. Tartum was about to voice his concern to Elizabeth, but when he saw the look of excitement on her face, he halted the words on his tongue. She didn’t seem concerned in the least that a four hundred pound wild predator with murder in its eyes was less than twenty yards from where they sat. Tartum hoped that she knew something he didn’t. Just in case he pulled a copper rod out and placed it on the table close at hand.

  People began cheering and calling out different animal names. Tartum quickly realized he was about to witness the liger fight another creature, looking at the platters the serving women were carrying around, everything suddenly made sense. Two animals were pitted against each other in a battle to the death for the entertainment of the tavern’s patrons. The animal that lost was roasted up and served up on platters. The spoils of the battle went to the patrons! As the revelation hit him, he realized that everything about this establishment was very clever. The fights, the meat, the name of the tavern, using his daughters as servers; he was very impressed with Hammond and made a point to visit this tavern much more often now that he knew of it. At the moment, however, he couldn’t wait to see the animal the liger was going to be pitted against.

  Tartum watched as Hammond evaluated the room with an experienced eye. Just as the cheering and jeering was about to stop he took a deep breath and announced the liger’s opponent.

  “Yes, my friends! I know a liger combatant is a fierce and cunning foe. What creature could I possibly introduce that would have any chance against such a fearsome opponent!? Well, ladies and gentlemen, luckily for us, that decision didn’t fall on my shoulders. The young, beautiful woman that chose the liger also chose his enemy. It is an accomplished predator in its own right in the tundras and wastelands of the world. It’s known to paralyze its prey with a single bite and eat them while they’re still alive. It’s a cold hearted murdurer, and I humbly present it to you, my friends, as a gift from the lovely woman seated at the table there.” Hammond said. He gestured towards Tartum’s table, and Elizabeth smiled as everyone’s attention was directed towards her. She waved shyly, as the room erupted in applause. Hammond looked very pleased with himself, and Elizabeth seemed to be embarrassed. Tartum was enjoying the scene immensely, in fact, the spectacle of it all made him forget his hunger. After a moment, Hammond continued his announcement.

  “A half-breed created by the gods to haunt the dreams of men! I give you…A NCAAAAAAAAAAM!!!!!!!” he bellowed.

  Just as it had occurred with the liger, another cage was pushed into the room on the opposite end of the pit. A creature that equaled the size of the liger was inside and looked just as vicious. It had the head of a wolf but the skin of a lizard. It was jet black and when it voiced its fury, it sounded like a giant hissing snake, yet it growled like a dog. Tartum noticed that its teeth were wolf-like in appearance but folded in when it closed its mouth. When it hissed, the teeth snapped back into place and looked razor sharp. Tartum had never seen anything like it before, and suddenly the liger didn’t seem to be a likely victor in the upcoming battle. Leaning forward in his seat, Tartum forgot his fear of their proximity to the animals and anxiously awaited the fight to start.

  The roar of approval from the tavern was deafening and seemed to work the animals into a frenzy. They lashed out at their cages and roared or hissed their disapproval. Hammond was smiling from ear to ear, and with a bow, he rushed out, using a door hidden in the middle of the pit. Torches that lined the inside of the pit sprung into life, as the lanterns around the tavern dimmed, until the only thing that could be easily seen were the animals in the arena snarling and pacing in their cages. Tartum felt that they knew what was expected of them now and neither seemed opposed to the opportunity.

  Without warning, both cages evaporated into thin air, and the animals were momentarily stunned by their sudden freedom. Even Tartum was shocked by the unexpected method of releasing the creatures from their confinement. Before he could marvel at the magic required to create cages like that the half wolf, half lizard creature called a ncaam looked up at him and hissed threateningly. The little voice in the back of his mind began screaming for him to kill the creature, and the sudden change from elation to fear stunned him. The Ncaam’s claws dug into the ground and, ignoring the liger, it charged across the pit and ran up the wall directly towards him. It was less than ten feet from him, when Tartum snapped out of his stupor and reached for his copper rod. His terror caused him to knock the rod off the table instead of picking it up, and Tartum looked back at the ncaam as it jumped off the wall in a final lunge that would put its fangs on his throat.

  As the beast jumped at him, it spit something at him. The projectiles were inches from his face when they hit an invisible barrier and clattered into the pit, moments before the creature hit the same barrier and fell to the floor in a heap. The unexpected impact dazed the creature, and the liger was on it in an instant. It clawed and bit into the ncaam’s flanks, tearing a huge chunk of flesh from one of its legs and leaving long rending claw marks trailing down its body. The ncaam began bleeding profusely; the pain seemed to help it recover from its fall and it turned and spit at the liger. The liger tried to evade the attack by jumping away, but one of the boney white projectiles struck it in the leg. The liger landed heavily, and Tartum saw it had been hit by the attack in its right hind leg. Two of the ncaam’s projectiles stuck out of the liger’s leg and seemed to have disabled it somehow. Looking closely, Tartum thought the things sticking out of the liger’s leg were the Ncaam’s teeth. Before he could debate this, the Ncaam was on the Liger and Tartum watched as the two crippled beasts savagely tore and bit at each other. The liger struck a telling blow to the ncaam’s face and tore the creature’s eye from its head. The blow caused the ncaam to rear its head back in pain, and the liger sunk its teeth into its exposed throat. The creature was dead in moments, and the liger roared its victory.

  The entire establishment was on its feet, roaring their support and cheering for the liger. Tartum was caught up in the moment and began to applaud excitedly as well. The entire fight had taken less than a few minutes, but it had been the most exhilarating few minutes he had experienced since he was in the bishop’s office. He watched the liger look up at the people applauding his performance. Tartum didn’t think the beast was happy about it; it looked ready to try to escape when its back legs gave out. The big cat crawled a short way before collapsing completely. A low growl emanated from it, as it lay on the ground, even now the beast refused to surrender. It was odd, but Tartum couldn’t help but feel proud of the animal.

  Ten men came out of the hidden doorways around the pit and split off into two groups. One group carried the carcass of the ncaam out of the pit, and the other recast the evaporating cage spell on the liger before removing him. Shortly after the fight was over, Hammond reappeared at their table as if by magic. He had two full plates of meat with him, and he placed one in front of each of them.

  “Please, be the first to sample the ncaam!” he said to them happily. Tartum was dumbfounded. There was no possible way Hammond skinned, cleaned, and cooked the animal already.

  “Ummm, Hammond…this can’t be the ncaam we just saw defeated by the liger a moment ago.” Tartum said in disbelief.

  Hammond laughed, “I’m sorry, my friend. This must be your first time at the Spoils of War. We heavily incorporate magic here. Didn’t you notice the barrier that stopped the ncaam from making a meal out of you and your friend here?” he asked. Tartum swallowed hard, as he reme
mbered the look on the ncaam’s face just before it slammed into the magical barrier and fell back into the pit. He tried to hide his discomfort by stuffing some of the meat he had brought into his mouth. Just like everything else he had tasted, it was wonderful. Tartum nodded at Hammond to acknoledge he believed him. Hammond seemed to be pleased and smiled even brighter.

  “Is there anything else I can bring you two before I go see to the kitchens? Anything at all?” he asked.

  Both of them shook their heads, their mouths being too full of delicious ncaam to voice their contentment. With another hearty laugh, Hammond left them to their meals. The rest of their dinner was spent walking the thin line between eating enough and not bursting at the seams.

  …

  When Tartum and Elizabeth finally left the tavern, it was still midday. They decided to head towards the market to do some shopping and walk off some of the food distending their bellies. They stopped by the leather pouch merchant Tartum visited the last time they were here. He found several leather pouches to replace the pouches that held some of his newer spell components. For some reason, having all his bags match made him more comfortable with the task of carring them around. His inventory was quite large now, and having multiple different bags of different styles and color made him feel like a circus clown. After making his purchases and rearranging his new pouches, he felt much more secure about his appearance.

  After thanking the leather merchant, Tartum and Elizabeth did some window shopping, making a point to avoid any and all food merchants along the way. They were still so full, the very thought of food made them nauseous. Other than his bloated stomach, Tartum was enjoying the time he was spending with Elizabeth. She was being very attentive, and Tartum began to forget the way she had been acting for the past week. As they walked together, Elizabeth would steal a quick kiss or run her hand suggestively across his body. She had this way of looking at him from behind her eyelashes that drove him wild. After a few hours, it was finally too much, and he began leading her back towards the guild. All of her flirting and suggestive gestures had finally gotten to him, and he burned with lust.

  As they were leaving the merchant district, they come across a group of disheveled men and women carring signs claiming the end of the world was near. They were preaching to a small group of townspeople, and Tartum couldn’t help his curiosity. Walking over to join the crowd, he listened to what the leader of the ramshackle group was saying.

  “…and this is why, my brothers and sisters, we must prepare ourselves for the Gods’ return! They are angry with us! They are not happy with the fact that we have forsaken them! In order to get back into their good graces, we must repent! Cast away your mortal desires of wealth and possession, and join us in the poverty of the righteous! Learn that, like the gods, we accept you for who you are and not for what you own! Title and rank mean nothing when in the presence of the gods, and soon the world will remember that! If not for yourself, do it for your children! Think of the suffering they’ll endure when the gods return to witness them playing with useless toys when they could make better use of their time to worshiping their holyness! REPENT, FOR JUDGEMENT APPROACHES!!!!” the man said.

  Tartum couldn’t believe what he was hearing and was positive it was all an act of some sort. He couldn’t fathom the possibility that the man was serious. The absurdity of it all appealed to Tartum’s sense of humor, and he began to laugh loudly. His laughter caught the man’s attention, and he advanced on him.

  “Why do you laugh, brother!? Can you not see I’m trying to save your soul? Look at you! With your expensive walking stick and your day’s purchases hanging from your belt! You flaunt your wealth like a whore flaunts her cleavage!” The man gestured towards Tartum’s pouches of spell components. The determined look on his face and assessment of his belongings doubled Tartum over with laughter. His mirth served to anger the man immensely.

  “Still, you laugh! You are one of the unrecoverables, and I will pray for you. It is a sad day when one such as you has fallen so far that he cannot see the light of truth in front of him. On the day of judgment, we shall see which one of us is saved by the gods and which one of us is banished to the twelve hells!” he said. He was no longer addressing Tartum but the throng of people that surrounded them. Tartum was getting himself under control as the reality of the situation began to dawn on him. He still couldn’t fully believe this wasn’t some sort of joke. Tartum decided to address the man and find out for certain.

  “Sir, you can’t be serious. This is an act right? A joke put on in the middle of the street in order to earn a few coins for your dinner and lodging tonight, right?” Tartum began searching for a few coins to give the man; he needed to believe they were simple street performers. The man grabbed Tartum’s wrist, stopping him from removing the coins from his pockets.

  “How dare you try to pass your burden of wealth onto me, you dog! I am one of the chosen! A prophet of the gods’ return! They provide for me! THEY protect me! They see to it that I’m kept safe, so that I may continue bringing the word of their coming to the lost souls of this world! For you to think I could desire the mortal wealth of this world is the ultimate blasphemy! Kneel down before me and beg the gods forgivness, lest your soul burn for all enternity!!!” The man was fervent in his belief, and Tartum was forced to face the fact that he meant every word he’d said. The disgust he felt towards the man was total.

  “So let me get this straight,” Tartum said, his anger beginning to rise. “You believe that the gods are coming back, and that they’ve chosen you, of all people, to be the herald of their return. Do I have this correct so far?” he asked. Tartum felt his pulse begin to rise as an arrogant look of self rightousness formed on the man’s face.

  “That is right, heathen, the gods CHOSE me for this task because, in their great and unquestionable wisdom, they knew that only I could be trusted with such a burden. It is a great honor, and I bear their trust proudly!” he said, as he puffed out his chest and tried to look down on Tartum.

  Tartum’s anger increased at the man’s pompous response. “So instead of choosing someone that already had the populace’s trust, say like the king, or the bishop, or even the local zoo’s town crier, the gods, in their wisdom, chose a derelict lowlife like yourself to preach their word and represent them on a world they abandoned for unknown reasons. Do I have that right?” Tartum asked the man through clenched teeth.

  He could see the man was getting confused. He probably wasn’t used to being questioned like this, and Tartum reveled in his discomfort. Seeing he had no reply, Tartum pressed his advantage.

  “So now, you stand before us in your tattered robes and unwashed body and try to tell us you represent all that the gods have in store for us when they return. You tell us to give up our wealth, comfort, and possessions so we can better understand your gods. You even try to envoke our fear by telling us if we don’t do this for ourselves then our children will suffer! I say to you, sir, that your gods are as false as your beliefs. You’re a cold, pathetic, disgusting, wretch of a man that most of us wouldn’t allow near our dogs. My guess is that you have failed so completely at life that you made up this twisted little group of followers because you don’t have the courage to face your situation nor the honor to simply kill yourself and rid us of your presence!” Tartum was seething with rage at this point and thrust his finger into the man’s face.

  “Begone from my sight this instant!! For if I ever see you again, I will arrange for you a very intimate meeting with the gods so you may see just how false you are! Do I make myself clear, you PIG!” Tartum was fuming, his vision was beginning to turn red, and he was having trouble resisting the urge to beat the man into a pulp. The look on the fanatic’s face was pure fear, and he whimpered as he nodded his understanding. Tartum walked back to Elizabeth’s side to the laughing and cheers of the crowd that had formed to watch the scene unfold. The man’s courage began returning, the further Tartum got from him. By the time he was next to Elizabeth, the m
an was acting like Tartum had never spoken to him. The townspeople weren’t listening anymore and began to jeer him; one man even spit in his face.

  “Well, I hope you feel better. I thought you were going to kill the guy!” Elizabeth said. She was smiling from ear to ear. It never failed to surprise him how much she enjoyed watching him bully other men. He smiled at her.

  “I wanted to…maybe on our next date.” he replied. His joke made Elizabeth giggle, and she was about to playfully slap him, when the crazed religious man grabbed her arm, causing her to shout in surprise and pain. Tartum saw his boney fingers dig into her flesh and the hatred smouldering in his eyes.

  “How does it feel to be the whore for the anti-gods!?” the man hissed at Elizabeth.

  The look of pain on her face coupled with his words sent Tartum’s anger over the edge. His vision went red and time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Reaching for his staff, Tartum brought the heavy mushroomed head down on the man’s shoulder, shattering it. The hand holding Elizabeth fell away limp and useless. Before the man could formulate a scream, Tartum had simultaneously pushed Elizabeth behind him and punched the man hard across the face. He fell to the ground and lay there, disoriented. Tartum had his foot on the man’s chest in seconds, and he leaned on it, hard enough to cause him to panic. Leaning down towards the man’s face, Tartum barked his words at him.

  “THE GODS PROTECT YOU, DO THEY!?!? THEY TAKE CARE OF YOU!?!? WHERE ARE YOUR FUCKING GODS NOW, DEAD MAN!?!?! HUH?!? WHERE ARE YOUR GODS NOW!?!?” Tartum was foaming at the mouth with hatred for the man that had dared to grab Elizabeth and spout his filth about non-existant gods. He was less than human to him now, and Tartum wanted nothing more than to erase him from the world. Reaching into his pouches, he pulled out a copper rod as he opened himself to the magic. As the magic rushed into him, his fury and hate increased tenfold, and Tartum looked down at the man with murder in his glowing red eyes. The man was screaming and desperately tring to remove Tartum’s foot from his chest. It was a futile effort, Tartum was a strong and fit caster of considerable skill, the fanataic was frail and thin from malnutrition.