The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1

by Latoria, William D.

  Unsheathing the knife Savall had given him Tartum slowly began cutting away the strings. As he cut away the last few strands that held his legs together the man sprung to life and kicked Tartum in the face. His dome spell stopped the brunt of it but the force still knocked him on the ground and the man bolted out of the throne and towards the door in the tower Tartum had come from. Recovering quickly Tartum reached for a spider leg and cast his entanglement spell as fast as he could.

  “Swa-swa-swyth. La-lateedo!” he said and the sticky webs of his spell chased after the blue man. He was fast and had almost made it to the doorway when the webs caught up to him and cocooned him in a sticky mass. Tartum could hear the man screaming, but the sound was muffled and pathetic. Walking over to the cocoon Tartum kicked it where he thought the man’s face would be and the screaming stopped. He picked the webbing off his foot and listened to make sure he hadn’t killed the man. After a moment, he saw more than heard the man breathing and sighed in relief. With that handled, Tartum busied himself with recasting his dome spell. Seeing the green hue return to his skin, he walked over to the throne to see what it was the man had been sitting on. It looked like some sort of pressure plate, and upon closer inspection, he saw that it had an inscription on it.

  Pick me successfully to advance, pick me unsuccessfully to die. Is all it said.

  “Cryptic guys...” Tartum mumbled. Resting his staff on the throne, Tartum retrieved his lock picks from the hidden compartments inside his sleeves and went about the task of disarming the trap.

  It was a moderately difficult trap to disarm, but with Tartum’s skilled hands he had it neutralized in moments. As soon as he removed his tools from the trap the throne began to sink into the ground. Quickly putting his tools back in their compartment and picking up his staff, Tartum watched as the throne melted into the stone floor and a hole appeared with stairs going down into the darkness. Tartum tried to look deeper, but the same darkness that had plagued this challenge so far was the same that he saw now. Picking up the blue shirted man, Tartum wasn’t surprised to see the stairwell light up. Rolling his eyes, he descended and didn’t bother to look up when he heard the portal closing. He was beginning to become comfortable in this maze.

  The stairs went down about a hundred yards before ending inside a sewer. Rashlarr had taken no shortcuts when detailing this portion of the mission, and the smells caused him to gag. Summoning his will, Tartum forced the smell and appearance of his current surroundings out of his head and set his focus on figuring out where to drop his captive off. There was only one direction to go in the sewer tunnel, and so he went, walking deeper into the sewer.

  After what felt like a lifetime, Tartum saw what looked to be Jeth standing perfectly still with a stupid grin on his face and his hand up like he was waving. Walking towards him, Tartum realized that it wasn’t actually Jeth that but a two dimensional cut out of him. On the ground before the cut out was a blue “X” that he assumed meant this was where he was to put his captive. Dropping the man on the “X” Tartum heard him grunt and moan. Tartum was just about to laugh, when a volley of quills buried themselves into Jeth’s face.

  Turning to find the owner of the quills, Tartum saw six stingers coming at him from the direction he had just come from. They were closing in fast and were salivating their acidic spit. The three stingers in front of the pack fired off another volley of quills, and using his staff Tartum deflected them away. He heard movement of stone on stone and saw that the blue man was gone as was the two dimensional cut out of Jeth. Where they went, Tartum had no idea as he was backed against a wall. The stingers were almost on him and panic began to rise up inside him. Digging into his pouches, Tartum went for a handful of sulfur but instead brought up sand. Cursing, Tartum batted away another volley of quills and infused the sand with his magic. Throwing the sand at the stingers Tartum cast his spell, “Siieeze-del-Makanotho!”

  The sand stopped the front three stingers in their tracks but did nothing to slow the three that were behind them. Throwing himself to the side, Tartum barely escaped the gnashing teeth of one as it lunged at him trying to rip his face off. Tartum brought his staff down on the beast’s head and crushed the life out of it. As his staff finished its arc, another stinger lunged forward, Tartum misread its intentions and attempted to move his body instead of his staff. The Stinger wrapped its teeth around his staff and ripped it out of Tartum’s grasp. It ran down the tunnel with the prize in its mouth. Tartum screamed his outrage, but before he could give pursuit, the final stinger jumped in front of him and fired off a volley of quills. Throwing himself on the ground, Tartum avoided the quills but left himself open to the Stinger’s charge. He looked up, just in time to avoid the creature’s jaws clamping down on his head and rolled to the side. The stinger’s tail came at him and knocked him against the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he saw the beast jump at him with its mouth open, seeking to rip his head off and finish its kill. With no time to cast another spell and with his staff stolen, Tartum reached for the only weapon he had left. Holding the knife in front of him, Tartum closed his eyes and turned his head, unwilling to look death in the eyes. The stringer crashed into him with enough force to jar Tartum’s entire body to its core. He felt the weight of the animal on top of him, but it wasn’t thrashing about or chewing on him or fighting at all. It was perfectly still and getting heavier. Pushing with all his might, Tartum shoved the beast off of him. Terrified, he scooted away from the beast before he realized it was dead. Turning the beast over on its back, Tartum saw that when it had jumped on him, it had impaled itself on the jade knife he had held out for protection. Yanking out his blade, Tartum wiped the blood off of it and sheathed it. Pulling out three rose petals, he killed off the paralyzed Stingers before the spell wore off and began to go after the one that stole his staff.

  It was then he noticed the doorway that had opened up. It led to a room that was regal and lush with furnishings. In the center of the room was a golden box that Tartum knew was the box he was supposed to pick in order to finish his exam. He looked back down the tunnel that the final stinger had run down when he heard something from the new doorway. Looking back, he saw it was closing.

  Time seemed to slow down to a trickle as he saw the two options before him. Let the doorway close in order to retrieve his staff, which would lead to him failing his over exam, or go through the portal, possibly lose his staff, and its lifesaving enchantment forever. It was an impossible decision, and Tartum found himself unable to make a choice. He loved his staff, it was as much a part of him as his own arms, and it was the last real gift he had to remember Isidor with. It had been with him for so long that the thought of losing it made him sick. Then there was the doorway, if it closed and he failed to unlock the golden box then all of this was for naught. The training, the magic, his time spent in the null box. All of it would have been wasted effort; plus, there was the slight chance that his staff would be returned to him if he passed. This was just a test, wasn’t it? Tartum didn’t know for sure, but the hope lead him to make a decision. With one more look at the tunnel, Tartum dove through the door way just before it sealed itself shut.

  He lay on the floor trying hard not to cry. Leaving his staff behind was hard, and the moment he made his decision, he regretted it. He was angry and sad at the same time, and the conflicting emotions made it hard to think. He sat up and stared at the golden box. Looking at it, he spoke, “This had better have been worth it...This had better have been worth me losing my staff!” His voice was heavy with sorrow.

  Picking himself up, he walked over to the box in the middle of the room. It was solid gold as far as he could tell and very ornate. There were dragons and tigers all over it, and they seemed to be fighting with neither being able to get the upper hand on the other. There was a very intricate lock on the front of the box that was designed to look like the keyhole was the inside of a dragon’s mouth. The lock itself was designed to look like a dragon’s head that was roaring towards
the person that held the key. The artwork was very impressive, and Tartum might have been moved if he wasn’t so upset over losing his staff.

  Getting angry at himself for pouting over his loss, Tartum forced himself to focus on the box. The lock looked simple, and he could see a tiny hole next to the keyhole that indicated it was trapped. Pulling his lock picking tools out, Tartum very carefully began the task of unlocking the box and finishing this thrice damned over exam. He felt the tumblers, and he knew almost instinctually that the fourth and fifth ones were the triggers for the trap. Just as he was about to attempt to disarm it, he drug the pick across the second tumbler and something about it felt wrong. It wasn’t so much how it felt as to how it was positioned. The tumbler should have been parallel to the keyhole, and these tumblers were a good ten degrees off center. Then Tartum remembered Elizabeth’s warning, “The final lock, pay close attention, it’s much more dangerous than it appears.” With everything that had happened, Tartum almost forget they had that exchange. It seemed so long ago, when in reality it had been less than an hour.

  Slowly and methodicall,y Tartum removed one tool from the lock, and then the other, until both were safely removed from the keyhole. Tartum stepped away from the box and examined it very close, trying to figure out what it was about this box that was so sinister. The gold etched dragons and tigers were all over the box with pictures of wind and explosions added in to make the depicted battle come to life. The whole fight culminated in a dramatic scene of the dragon and the tiger swallowing each other in an effort to show that fighting never solves anything. It was a stupid and pacifistic etching that irritated Tartum. The artist must have been a real milksop, although a very talented one. Tartum’s focus was drawn to the final scene at the top of the box, the culmination of all the etched fighting the dragon and tiger were doing. The fighting that was shown on the box was truly violent; for it to all culminate to show neither side winning seemed out of place. Focusing on the circle of mutual death, Tartum noticed something, it was barely visible, but it was there. There was a line down the middle of the circle and two hinges on either side of the circle, cleverly placed to be almost unnoticeable against the art. Tartum pushed on the center of the circle and was rewarded when the middle of it went in a fraction of an inch, made a clicking sound, and opened to reveal another keyhole. This one was bigger and was in the shape of a tiger’s face with the keyhole placed to look like it was inside the tiger’s roaring mouth.

  Tartum smiled, this must have been what Elizabeth meant. This over exam was a real pain in the ass, but at least he was beating it. Even if it was partially thanks to Elizabeth’s help. Carefully looking at the new lock, he saw three holes hidden in the tiger’s face; one in each eye and one in the nose. He had never picked a lock with so many traps before, and he had no doubt that whatever those holes had inside them it would be deadly. Carefully putting his lock picks into the keyhole, Tartum was shocked to discover there were eighteen tumblers inside. Carefully, and methodically, Tartum went to work disarming the traps that the tumblers hid. He was almost done disarming the third when he felt something, it felt like a bit of string that was wrapped around something. The string was very taught and if he had grazed it any harder it would have snapped. Tartum realized that the trap on this box wasn’t just for killing him; it was designed to destroy what was in the box as well.

  “A fucking Hilary, I should have known.” Tartum said out loud. He really hoped they could hear him outside.

  Carefully going around the string, Tartum finished disarming the external traps and began working on the internal one. With the file, he had to catch whatever it was that the string was attached to so that when he cut it with the pick the catalyst would slam into the file and not the trigger for the internal destruction trap; and he had to do it all without being able to see what he was doing. He worked on getting his file positioned just right, if he was off by a fraction of an inch whatever the contents inside were they would be destroyed and his test failed. He finally propped the file against the catalyst the string was attached to and cut the strand with the pick. He held his breath as the string was cut and waited. After what felt like a century he heard the gratifying thud of the catalyst falling into the lock as opposed to the explosion he was sure would have occurred if he had failed. Moving the rest of the tumblers was a snap, and Tartum unlocked the box in moments. Slowly, he opened the box; he didn’t want to take any chances and his caution was rewarded as he saw two cat’s gut strings begin to be pulled in the seam of the box. Using his knife to cut the strings, he opened the box the rest of the way and looked inside.

  There were two pouches and a scroll inside. Tartum gathered up the items and put them in his belt. Standing up, he looked around the room and saw a new doorway had opened in the wall he had come through. Walking through the doorway he found himself back where he had started with his friends cheering before him. Savall walked up, put his arms around him and gave him a hug that crushed the breath out of him. Then he held Tartum by the shoulders and with an overjoyed smile said, “You did it, Tartum! You made it! You made it, son! I’m so proud of you! You’ve won! You’ve passed! Congratulations, my boy! Welcome! Welcome to the thieves guild!” With that, he gave Tartum another bear hug and walked over to the rest the group.

  Elizabeth walked up to him as Savall left him. She had tears freely flowing down her face. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. The moment Elizabeth touched him, Tartum’s grasp on his magic was lost, and he suddenly felt very weak. Hugging her close, Tartum kissed her back and allowed his own tears to mingle with hers.

  He was overcome with joy with this sense of accomplishment. He had done it! He had passed! He had gotten through the most difficult training of his life and even with the odds stacked against him, he had won! He had earned his place amongst the people he’d come to see as friends, even as family! Once again, Tartum had never been so proud of himself in his entire life.

  The cheers and applause from his friends went on for a long time as they all took turns congratulating him with hugs and heartfelt speeches. Tartum enjoyed all of it very much, but none of it meant as much as the feeling his success had given him. The feeling that, he was finally home!

  ...

  As the cheering and congratulations died down, Savall began to usher Tartum out of the training room. It was then he remembered his staff. Planting his feet, he turned and looked at Rashlarr.

  “My staff, Rashlarr can it be recovered? I’ll go back in myself if that’s what it takes.” Tartum said, desperation creeping into his voice.

  Rashlarr looked at him and laughed, “Do not worry, Jade Mage; I will get your staff back for you. You have been most entertaining today and there is no need for you to re-enter. Go with the Boss, you two have much to discuss.”

  Tartum was immensely relieved that his staff wasn’t gone forever and would be recovered. He still hated himself for leaving it behind. He made a point to ask Elizabeth about where she got the enchantment for her throwing knives once all the excitement was over. He would not lose his staff again!

  Walking with Savall, Tartum took the chance to examine the items he had taken from the golden box at the end of his over exam. Opening the first large pouch, he saw there was nothing but broken pieces of charred scrap metal inside. He gave Savall a confused look and showed him what was inside. Savall just shook his head, “I’ll explain that when we get to my office, son, why don’t you look inside the other bag?” he suggested. Not understanding, but still curious about what was inside the other pouch, Tartum closed the first one and put it back in his pack.

  Opening the second large pouch, Tartum was shocked to see it was full of sapphires. Savall saw the expression on his face and explained, “Jeth may be a real son of a bitch, but he pays his debts. You earned those, son, and after I saw how many times that little spell saved your life, I’d say you should have bartered for a hundred.” He finished his explanation with a laugh. Tartum found it odd Savall was in such
a good mood. Rather than question it and possibly ruin his mood, he went with it and joined Savall in his laughter as he added the pouch to his belt.

  He took out the scroll next and began to read it. He quickly realized it was a new spell! It was difficult to read while watching where he was going and in his excitement, Tartum would have stumbled on the staircase if Savall hadn’t steadied him. Tartum thanked him for his assistance and then read the scroll. It was another dome spell; according to the description this spell formed a dome around the caster, or the caster’s target, and stopped small projectiles from hitting him. It didn’t dissipate after the first hit, and it did nothing against larger shots like javelins or cannonballs, nor could it protect against a thrown sword or spear. It was ineffective in close combat however; it would stop all non-magical arrows, bolts, rocks, throwing knives, and throwing daggers, as well as any other improvised small projectiles. It required a sparrow’s feather as a spell component and Tartum already knew Rashlarr had a bag full of them in his room. Tartum dubbed his new spell the Arrow Dome and carefully rolled it back up, stowing it securely in his robes. He couldn’t wait to try out his new spell but was irritated that they had waited so long to give it to him. This spell would have been infinitely more useful than even his dome spell against Elizabeth, and in his over exam. He rubbed his chin as he remembered the bolt that should have taken his life. With this spell he wouldn’t have needed to come out of that window. He could have killed the red shirts from that tower and been done with his exam in half the time. He was beginning to get angry at Savall for sending him into a situation as one sided as the over exam was when he had spells like this available that could have protected him! He was about to vent his frustration when his thoughts turned to the red shirted man that had talked to him as he laid on the ground after Tartum’s dome spell had robbed him of his victory. “No fair!” he had said, “No...it’s not.” he had replied. The truth of his words was deeper than he had realized when he had spoken them.