The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1

by Latoria, William D.

  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.

  The birdman fell hard on its back and it uttered a mewling chirping sound. Tartum found the sound awful and wished it would stop. Bringing his staff down, he smashed the Bird man’s head crushing the life out of it and ending its suffering. Tartum realized after he killed it that he hadn’t done it so much out of spite as he did out of not wanting it to suffer. He found it odd that he felt any kind of sympathy for something that had tried so hard to kill him. It was as if during their fight the bird man had earned some kind of respect from him and, in some small way, Tartum was almost sorry he had to kill it. The emotions he was feeling at killing this bird man were quickly dispelled as a rock slammed into his skull.

  The shot should have cracked his head open and spilled his brains all over the floor. Once again, his dome spell had saved his life, and Tartum took the second chance it afforded him to dive behind another barrier. Two more rocks slammed into the barrier and Tartum reached into his bags for a handful of ash. Quickly infusing it with magic he threw it behind him and said the words, “Krekat-sijuwith!” taking a quick look around the wall he was behind Tartum was relieved to see that there was a large void of darkness in front of him. The relief was short lived as another rock went zipping through the darkness and slammed into a barrier about ten feet from him. Although the bird man was still firing rocks at him, the darkness was doing its job and providing the cover he needed to move. Sprinting from behind the wall, Tartum ran thirty feet away from where he thought his attacker was, throwing himself on the ground behind a particularly tall wall. Catching his breath, Tartum cautiously looked around the side.

  He saw nothing. The void he had created was still there, but he doubted it would be up much longer. He couldn’t see any movement, but he did notice that where his fireball had exploded there was a large amount of gore, feathers, and remnant green flames to indicate he had gotten one of the little bastards. The flames were beginning to get out of hand, so Tartum took a moment and uttered the word “Uush!” to extinguish them. The fires dealt with, Tartum looked and saw the darkness was still up so he ducked back behind the barrier and waited. Reaching into his sleeve, he selected a copper rod and held it in his hands, preparing himself to cast a lightning bolt. He had just one enemy left, but it might as well have been a hundred the way he felt. The sounds of movement close by brought Tartum out of his reprieve and he pressed himself against the wall. He listened hard, trying to slow his heartbeat to get the sound of beating drums out of his ears. Infusing the copper rod with magic, Tartum brought the words of the spell to his lips ready to cast it once the opportunity presented itself. A rock slammed into the wall to his left. Tartum wasted no time; he dove to his right as he cast his spell, hoping to be able to see his target before the final word was spoken. “Yuik-rena toem-urthma!” he bellowed. As he dove out of cover, he was pained to see that his opponent was nowhere to be found, and he was forced to fire his lightning bolt into a barrier about fifteen feet in front of him. The wall exploded as the bolt hit it, sending shards of rock in all directions. Tartum more sensed movement than heard it and spun around just in time to dodge an incoming rock and bring his staff forward to defend himself.

  The bird-thing that assailed him was much larger and far more heavily feathered than the last one. Its spear was of a better quality as well. It was still a wooden shaft, but the wood was denser and less fragile than the spear his first opponent had used. The tip was made from what Tartum guessed was obsidian, and the edge looked razor sharp. The way this bird man attacked wasn’t as wild and rage fueled as his late friend’s were. This opponent’s thrusts were calculated, the combinations clever. Tartum had little trouble keeping up, but couldn’t find an opening to get an edge over his target. The look in this creature’s eyes wasn’t one of uncontrolled hate or rage either; those emotions were there to be certain, but Tartum saw something else in there that left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. This creature was assessing him, calculating the best way to force an advantage so it could kill him. All things being equal, Tartum would have preferred the rage and hate filled bird man to this calculating one.

  Tartum cursed himself for a fool for not putting any candle wax in his teeth and desperately tried to think of some way to outsmart this creature. Its attacks were brutal and yet made with a martial skill that made Tartum regret underestimating him. The bird man wasn’t without his own injuries; Tartum noticed that it looked like it had taken a bit of the blast from his earlier fireball, if its scorched right leg was any indication. Tartum had also scored a few minor blows against him in their exchange but just couldn’t press the advantage once he had it. Something had to change soon, or this was going to become an endurance match that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to win.

  The fighting between the two of them was intense, and Tartum was the superior fighter to be sure, yet the bird man was cunning enough to avoid Tartum’s killing blows. He had thought about reaching for a spell component, but he knew that without using both hands his opponent would be able to knock his staff away, and that would be disastrous. He thought about trying to run, but judging on how fast this thing had been getting to him and how accurate it was with that sling, he didn’t want to take the chance. Desperate, Tartum fought down his growing panic, he was getting more and more fatigued the longer they fought. He couldn’t tell if the bird man was getting tired, but judging by the strength of the blows he was delivering, he thought it was safe to assume he wasn’t. Going over all his spells in his head once again, the answer suddenly hit him. Locking into his opponent, Tartum took in as much magic as he could, shut his eyes tight, and screamed into the bird man’s face, “LIGHT!” Even through his shu
t eyes, the light that came from his staff was startling. The pull on his magic made Tartum think that it might yank him inside out if it got any more intense. The mewling scream that came from his opponent was all Tartum needed to hear, and he gave the command. “Dark!” The suction on his magic ceased immediately and Tartum gasped.

  Opening his eyes as fast as he dared, he saw the bird man had been blinded and was now on the ground rubbing at its eyes with one hand while pawing at the ground with the other, desperately trying to find its spear. Lunging at him, Tartum brought his staff across its legs just as its feathered hand found the spear. The crunch and following scream let Tartum know that he had pulverized the beast’s legs, and that it was no longer a threat. Standing over his defeated foe, Tartum leaned heavily on his staff to regain his strength. The enchantment on his staff and the longevity of their fight had sapped much of his reserves, and he needed a moment to recover.

  The bird man flopped over to its back and scooted itself up against a nearby wall. It still held its spear and was holding it towards Tartum in a defensive manner. As he recovered, Tartum looked at the creature, it seemed to be in considerable pain and yet still it tried to fight. He began to feel bad for it until he remembered the fear he had felt when he thought he was going to be the one on the ground broken and dying. Stepping forward, Tartum knocked the creature’s spear down with his staff and began rummaging through his pouches, looking for his rose petals so he could finish this quickly.

  The bird man moved like lightning, and a sudden burning sensation burst forth and ran from his nose to under his right eye. The bird man had recovered its spear and, in Tartum’s moment of complacency, sliced it across his face. It was only by sheer luck that he hadn’t lost an eye or been skewered like a pig. As it was blood was pouring down his face and accumulating into a good sized pool at his feet. The bird man sneered at him, as though it was very proud of its final attack.