“It meant a lot to me that Savall had taken the time to bury my mother. Everything had happened so quickly, it never occurred to me that I should have tried to recover her body and properly bury her. Not that I could have afforded it. That was the first true kindness anyone, other than my mother, had ever shown me. Maybe he rescued me just to enslave me, but Savall is still a good man, Tartum, and he’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had. I love him, and I think he knows that.” Tartum noticed that Vaund’s tears dried up when he spoke about Savall, and his voice took on a tone almost daring Tartum to challenge the validity of his statement. Tartum carefully kept his face blank and nodded his agreement to Vaund.
“So one day Savall comes to me and tells me everyone dies. It’s inevitable; then he goes on and tells me about the guild. He offers me a home, comfort, luxury, security, power, and a family, in exchange for my healing skills. I agreed immediately, Tartum, I’ve been with the guild for seven years. I don’t regret my decision for an instant.” Vaund finished his story and looked at Tartum. He seemed to be waiting for something.
The little voice in the back of Tartum’s head was screaming that he had missed something. Something Vaund had told him didn’t make sense. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something very wrong about Vaund’s story. Tartum looked at him, he was a thin man, somewhere around his late thirties or early forties. He had a droopy face that always seemed to look sad. His hair was thinning, and the bald spot on top of his head was very pronounced. His brown hair was greying, and Tartum thought in the next few years the grey would take over completely. He held himself well enough, but with a submissive demeanor that Tartum had seen before but just couldn’t place. His eyes were blue and...innocent? It was then that Tartum realized what it was that nagging voice in his head was trying to tell him. It was Vaund’s eyes that gave it all away. His eyes were too young for his body. They were the eyes of a boy, not a man in his forties! Vaund said he was seven when his mother died and Savall had recruited him. Then he told him that he had been with the guild for seven years! For the second time since sitting down in his room, Tartum couldn’t accept the facts he was being presented.
“No...but...that...you’d only be...” Tartum trailed off. He couldn’t force himself to say the words that would verify what he couldn’t accept.
“I’m fourteen years old, Tartum.” Vaund said matter-o-factly.
Tartum’s head swam with the revelation. How could he have not realized it sooner!? Vaund’s demeanor wasn’t that of a humble adult but a mild mannered child. He wasn’t just submissive, he was doing what his surrogate father had asked him to do. His sadness wasn’t because he felt left out or shunned, he was still mourning his mother, and everytime he healed someone or was summoned to be ready to heal someone, he knew it was going to kill him more and more. The guilt Tartum felt for leeching the life out of this boy brought tears to his eyes. Angrily, he wiped them from his eyes and pounded his fist on the table.
Tartum looked around the room and noticed that the objects he had thought were just knick-knancks and trinkets were actually toys and childrens plaything’s. Stuffed animals, wooden soldiers, children’s fairy tale books, there was even a little drum kit and some jacks. Vaund was a boy living in a man’s body, carrying out a self imposed death sentence while saving the lives of thieves and assassins.
The reality of the situation was too much, and Tartum didn’t know how to react. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or impressed. He didn’t know if he wanted to kill Savall or shake his hand. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation and so decided instead of taking action, he would sit in that chair and decide what his next move should be.
Tartum thought about everything Vaund had told him. His mother was dead, killed due to forced labor right in front of his eyes. The men responsible were dead, killed by Savall so that he could enslave Vaund for the same purposes. Granted, Savall treated Vaund much better, and he seemed happy enough, it still seemed wrong somehow. And now Vaund used the very magic that killed his mother to aid Savall and the others, to keep up his end of the fool’s bargain he made. It all seemed very wrong, and he had almost made up his mind to put a stop to it when another thought occured to him.
This was what Vaund wanted.
The healing magic was the only part of his mother he had left. He honored her sacrifice everytime he used the magic to heal one of the guild members. He lived a life of comfort and luxury, which was worlds better than how he lived when he was with his mother and their original captors. What else could he do, now that he was an orphan, what else could he do as a fourteen year old boy trapped in the body of a forty year old man? Looking around once again, Tartum saw not just toys and trinkets, he saw a happy, loved, and well provided for, little boy’s room, filled with his treasures and memories. A room he never would have had if it wasn’t for Savall. Most of all, Tartum knew he wouldn’t be alive today if it hadn’t been for Vaund’s healing magic. Tartum knew then that this was what was best. He didn’t like that someone like Vaund had to be sacrificed because of his chosen use for magic, but then again he didn’t like the fact that his magic relied so heavily on components. The greater the spell the greater the cost; hadn’t he been taught that? What greater magic could there be than the magic that gave life? What greater cost could there be than the caster’s soul? Making his peace with the situation, Tartum relaxed and looked up at Vaund. He was pushed back into his chair and looked scared of Tartum. Putting his hands up, Tartum tried to put him at ease.
“I’m sorry, Vaund. I’m very sorry. It was alot for me to take in, and I lost my composure. I did not mean to frighten you. That’s the last thing I want to do. You’re an incredible young man, and I find myself humbled in your presense. You are the most remarkable person I’ve met in my life, and it’s an honor to be your friend.” Tartum didn’t fully understand why he suddenly felt so protective of Vaund, but it felt right, and judging by the look on Vaund’s face, it was what he wanted to hear. “Listen, If you ever need anything, or want anything, you just ask me, ok? A toy, food, candy, a pet, anything, just ask. I will get it for you. Understand?” Tartum asked. He was trying to be kind but wanted Vaund to know he was serious.
Vaund had tears in his eyes, and for the first time since Tartum had known him, a smile born of happiness spread across his face. Vaund nodded his understanding. Happy that he had made Vaund smile like that, Tartum took the moment to make one more thing perfectly clear to him.
“Also, I never want you to heal me again. Understand? I know it’s your job, and it’s nothing personal, but I won’t have you give up your life to save mine again. I’m not comfortable with it. I’m not saying to never heal again, that would be wrong, just promise me you won’t heal me anymore. I can heal on my own.” Tartum said.
Vaund looked confused and slightly hurt at Tartum’s last request; confused but compliant. “Ok Tartum, I won’t heal you again unless your life is on the line. You couldn’t stop me anyway if you were close to death, so don’t try to argue. If your life isn’t in danger, I won’t heal you, if it is, well, piss on you; I’m gonna do it anyway.” Vaund said. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Tartum the best stone faced look he could.
Tartum laughed, “Ok, my friend. I accept those terms.” He laughed hard which caused Vaund to laugh. After all the tension between them, it felt good to let it all go with laughter.
After a few moments of heartfilled laughing, Vaund got himself under control and made eye contact with Tartum. Wiping away a few tears, he asked a question. “Umm, I do have one request, if you don’t mind.” Tartum found it mind boggling that he never noticed how young and shy Vaund was before. His demeanor was exactly that of a young boy, and now that he knew the truth, Tartum couldn’t help but to see him as anything but that.
“Sure, Vaund, name it!” Tartum said.
Looking down, Vaund made his request; “Ummm, I’ve always wanted a dog, for as long as I can remember. Do you think that maybe I coul
d play with Buddy sometimes and pretend he’s mine?” He didn’t look up after he finished asking. Tartum could tell he was worried his request would be denied.
Tartum smiled warmly; “That sounds like a great idea! In fact, let’s go right now. I think Buddy would like a playmate.” With that, they both stood up and made their way to Tartum’s room.
...
When Tartum and Vaund had arrived at his room, Elizabeth was up and eating. She was surprised to see Vaund with him and after a moment of assessing the situation, realized that Tartum must have uncovered the truth about Vaund. It stunned Tartum that Elizabeth was able to read him so easily and that she had known the whole time that Vaund was only a boy. He wondered how many other secrets she knew but wasn’t telling him. His guess was there would be a lot.
Tartum called for Buddy to come out, and a rustling from under the bed let everyone know he was on his way. He came out and saw everyone looking at him; he seemed confused and likely to go back under the bed when Vaund called out to him. Buddy walked up to him cautiously; Vaund held out his hand shyly and let Buddy sniff him. After a moment, Buddy began to wag his tail, and the two hit it off like they were old friends. Tartum thought that Buddy seemed to know that Vaund wasn’t an adult even if he looked like one. They played around Tartum’s room for a while, and then ran around in the hallways, chasing each other. They made quite the racket and plenty of the other guild members yelled out for them to shut up and for them to go play outside. In the end, Vaund took Buddy back to his room and gave him some of his old stuffed animals to chew on. This gave Buddy no end of pleasure, and Tartum was worried his wagging tail might simply fall off.
So it was over the next couple of days, Buddy split his time between Tartum’s room and Vaund’s. Tartum didn’t mind. When he commanded it Buddy would return happily, and when he didn’t need him he would run around and play with Vaund. It was a good situation and gave him peace of mind that the debt he owed to Vaund was being paid. Plus, Elizabeth seemed very pleased with him for being so kind. Tartum didn’t fully understand this, but the way she was rewarding him nightly was enough for him not to care. He chalked it up to one more perk of doing the right thing for a good friend.
On the third day, the day of his over exam, Tartum was up early and prepared for his test. He had studied all of his spells, had his components, his cloak was on, and his staff was slung to his back. He even had the fantastic new jade knife that Savall had gifted him with. He also took the time to cast his dome spell because of which his skin was the jade green hue that had earned him his nick name. He was as prepared as he was going to be, and he waited impatiently, for Savall to arrive.
After what felt like an eternity, he arrived. He didn’t seem surprised that Tartum was awake and waiting for him. In fact, he seemed to be expecting it.
“Morning, son, I see you’re ready to go. Are you hungry? Do you need anything before we head out?” he asked.
Tartum’s stomach was in knots, and the idea of trying to eat didn’t appeal to him at all. “No, Boss, I’m ready to get this over with.” he said.
Savall nodded and motioned for Tartum to follow him. As they walked, Savall began to explain, “Son, I won’t lie to you. It’s been a while since a recruit has survived to make it to their over exam. I want nothing more than for you to pass and become a member of the guild. However, I will not go easy on you. You are going to have to earn this honor on your own merit. There will be no help, no one will come to your aid, and no one will bail you out if things get rough. As of this moment your life is in mortal danger.” Savall’s tone was serious as he drove his point home. Then, it looked like a thought occurred to him. “You know,” he began, “Jeth has put a large amount of coin down that you won’t survive the day. I want you to make him lose that bet. Do you understand me, son?” Savall asked. It seemed to Tartum that Savall was trying to motivate him with this revelation.
“I understand all too well. Tell Jeth that when I survive the day and pass this test that he owes me fifty sapphires. If I fail, I’ll leave my staff to him.” Tartum said. The bravado and confidence in his voice did not match the butterflies in his stomach.
His bet caught Savall’s attention, and he paused for a moment as he processed what Tartum had just said. With a chuckle, he responded, “I’ll see to it that Jeth is told about your wager. I think he’ll be more than happy to take you up on that bet.” Savall was laughing now. They said nothing else to each other as they walked. Tartum was too busy trying to think of every possible challenge they could throw at him, and Savall was too busy chuckling to speak.
CHAPTER 21
They arrived in the combat training room where he and Jeth had trained. It was still the wood framed box that he remembered. Although there were some new blood stains and gouges in the wood from the last time he was here, everything else looked unchanged. Elizabeth, Vaund, Jeth, and Rashlarr all stood in the far corner. None of them said a word as they entered. Only Jeth smiled. He seemed excited, while the other three seemed very worried. Their demeanors did nothing to calm Tartum’s fraying nerves.
Savall motioned for Tartum to stand in the middle of the room. He did as he was bid and stood waiting for his next command. Savall positioned himself across from Tartum, leaving about eight feet of air between them. Tartum didn’t like where this was going.
“Tartum Fuin, when you first came to us we stood before you and judged you. We deemed you worthy of the opportunity to train with us and learn the skills required to join our guild. Now, after over a year of training, we stand before you again, ready to determine if our initial evaluation was accurate.” Savall said this in a very formal tone. Tartum wasn’t sure if all this pomp and circumstance was necessary, but then he wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or for the benefit of his evaluators. He decided none of it mattered when Savall unsheathed his massive great sword. Tartum unslung his staff and held it in front of him defensively. He really didn’t like where this was going.
Savall’s sword was huge. Easily six and a half feet long from tip to tip; it was a monster! Tartum remembered seeing the handle of Savall’s blade when they first met. The emeralds had stunned him and the hilt was magnificent, but it was the blade, the five and a half foot blade, which truly took his breath away. It was jet black just like Savall’s armor, but the edges gleamed with a dark purple hue. The rich purple of the blade seemed to flow up and down the edges like water as Savall moved his sword around. The effect made the blade look like it was a sinister ichor that invoked a primal kind of fear inside him. Summoning all his courage, Tartum pushed down his fear, but he could do nothing to stop the sweat from forming on his brow.
“Look at him! He’s scared to death! Look at him sweat! I’ll be a rich man by the end of the day I tell you! Don’t let me down, recruit!” Jeth called out.
Tartum saw nothing but a blur as Elizabeth’s hand moved with impossible speed. She had one of her knives in her hand and was nose to nose with Jeth quicker than lightning. Her knife was pressed to his throat as she hissed her threat at him, “Say one more word...Please...” Her eyes were blazing, and her voice was dripping with acid.
Jeth put his hands up in a docile gesture and was silent. When Elizabeth took her knife away his neck was bleeding where she had pressed a little too hard. Jeth wiped away the blood and stood in the corner trying his best to look like a victim. The sight made Tartum smile, and he shot a wink to Elizabeth. She did not see it; she was livid and not looking at Tartum.
Savall took all of this in and then smiled, “You know Jeth, Tartum is willing to wager, his staff against fifty of your sapphires, that he’ll pass today. Are you interested?” Tartum knew Savall was baiting Jeth. It didn’t surprise him that the man had no allies in this guild.
Jeth looked like he was about to say something, but he swallowed the words before he could voice them and shot a scared look at Elizabeth. She twirled her knife around her fingers and stared daggers back at him. Looking down, Jeth stayed silent and simply nodded his
agreement to the bet. Savall barked his laughter.
“I hope you do survive this over exam, son! I don’t think any of us will survive Elizabeth’s wrath otherwise!” Savall was enjoying all of this. After a moment, he got control of himself and his formal tone returned. “Your first test will be one of martial skill. No magical spells, no tricks, no hidden meanings, just you and me and our weapons of choice. We don’t have to kill each other, but we don’t have to not kill each other either. The fight will go on until one of us is dead, or when I’ve decided you’ve proven to me that your melee skills are adequate enough to represent the guild. Do you understand the rules, son?” Savall asked.
Tartum understood but didn’t respond with words. As far as he was concerned the talking part was over. He placed his staff on the ground, wrapped his spell components in his cloak and tossed the bundle to Vaund. Picking up his staff, Tartum took a few practice swings and twirled his staff around, more to impress Savall than to limber up. Then he stood ready and waited for Savall to give the command to attack. The showboating left no impression on Savall, and with a nod, he held his sword up to his face in a salute. Placing his great sword back in the ready position, Savall began his attack.
Savall’s speed was impressive for his size and age, but Tartum was used to that and was able to parry his initial attack with ease. He knew that Savall was testing him and that this first exchange was nothing more than a way to test his defenses. Tartum refused to give him the chance to analyze him further and went after Savall with all the fury and determination he had learned over the past year of training. He came up high with his staff, feigning a head shot and used the momentum of Savall’s counter blow to swing low and go for his knee. The only thing that saved Savall from becoming a cripple was the jet black plate mail armor he wore. The blow still staggered the old man, and Tartum pressed his advantage by following up his shot with two vicious hits to Savall’s chest and stomach. Again his armor stopped the damage from being as severe as it should have been, but Tartum had dented it, and he knew Savall had felt it. Wanting to end this quickly, Tartum threw caution to the wind and went after Savall with an overhead smash that would crush his face if it landed. Whether it was experience, luck, divine intervention or a combination of all three, Savall was able to get his sword in-between them and stop his blow just before it hit. The momentum locked them together in a battle of strength, and they found themselves face-to-face, in a stalemate.
The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 Page 38
