“I think the Crenshaw would be the best choice, Isidor.” Tartum said.
Isidor couldn’t help himself and started laughing. “You have very good taste, my boy. The Crenshaw is one of the finest inns in all of Saroth. They are famous for their roasted meats and fine breads. Although, I think it would have been cheaper to get a room in the palace.” Isidor said, laughing the entire time. Leave it to Tartum to pick the most expensive inn in the district.
“Oh well.” Isidor thought. It would be a fitting place to end their relationship.
Walking up to the counter Tartum was standing at, Isidor paid for a room on the third floor. Then he ordered some of the roasted meats and breads to be brought up to their room. There was one more thing Isidor wanted to teach Tartum before he left him.
...
When they got up to the room, it was nicer than Tartum had expected. Two full sized beds were in opposite corners of the spacious room. They each had plush mattresses that he assumed were full of goose down. Two large pillows, that were very plush, adorned the beds. Thick red velvet blankets were neatly tucked around the mattresses, and they looked very inviting. There was only one window in the room, but it took up almost the entire wall. Heavy white drapes were currently blocking out the daylight, but the room was still well lit by the candles that hung in five foot intervals along the walls. When Isidor opened the drapes, the room was flooded with light. It was a beautiful room that overlooked much of the city. The Crenshaw was easily the nicest place he had ever been in his life. If the palace looked better than this room, Tartum couldn’t imagine it.
Flopping himself on the bed closest to the door, Tartum smiled. Leaving Zerous was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He had seen mountains that touched the skies! He had seen a lake that was as big as the ocean! He had seen animals that passed a gas so foul it made you beg for mercy, after you could breathe again of course. He was in the greatest city on the continent, and now, he was laying on a bed that even the pickiest of nobles would have killed to rest on. In the company of his greatest friend and dearest mentor, in possession of a staff he loved more than life and feeling in control of his magic, Tartum felt his life was truly coming together. He couldn’t think of anything to make this moment any better than it already was.
Isidor cleared his throat,which pulled Tartum out of his revelry. The sound Isidor made was one Tartum was very familiar with. It meant he was about to teach him a lesson. Whether that lesson was to be one of magic or of life, Tartum didn’t know but he was immediately interested and sat up looking intently at his master.
Once Isidor saw Tartum was paying full attention, he began.
“Now that we are in the city, there are certain things you must know. The first, and most important is this, while casters aren’t rare in the world, we aren’t trusted, and if people find out you are a caster, well, at best they will try to use you to further their own pursuits, and at worst they will try to kill you. Some of the more savage races think that if they eat certain parts of us they’ll be imbued with our magic. They DON’T always kill you before they take those parts either.” Isidor said, in a very serious tone.
Tartum tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly very dry.
“What parts do they take?” was all Tartum could think to ask.
“Eyes, tongue, fingers, and sometimes...well...” Isidor pointed at Tartum’s crotch.
Tartum’s attempt to swallow this time met with even more failure. He felt hollow inside. The idea of being eaten in order to give his power to someone made his stomach turn. Tartum fought to get control of himself. Summoning his willpower, he forced himself to face the potential problem and to stop being so scared of Isidor’s words. If the world is that savage, then he would just have to become more powerful, so he could change that. With his jaw set and his resolve reaffirmed, he met Isidor’s gaze.
Isidor saw the change in Tartum’s demeanor and the sudden stubborness in his eyes. Isidor felt the same pride swell up in him whenever Tartum rose up to whatever challenge he threw at him. It made leaving him that much harder. By the Gods, he wanted to stay with him. He knew that he couldn’t though. He couldn’t keep guiding him in magic, truth be known, there wasn’t much he felt he could teach Tartum about magic anymore. There was, at least, one more spell he could teach him to keep him safe from the unsavory people of the world.
Isidor smiled his “proud instructor” smile and pulled a scroll out of his pouch. He handed it to Tartum. To his astonishment, Tartum refused to take it. He even shrank away from it slightly.
“I do not want to use scrolls anymore, Master. Not after...not after what happened...not after what I did.” Tartum said, shame flooding his voice.
The idea of using any scroll again didn’t sit well with Tartum. He got the very vivid image of Hilary’s ruined corpse when Isidor had pulled out the scroll. Tartum had burned all his old scrolls during the trip to Saroth. He would be damned if he ever read from one again.
Isidor looked at the pain in Tartum’s eyes and understood. However, this was no time for self loathing. The spell the scroll contained could save Tartum’s life. Isidor had to get Tartum angry. He had learned that when Tartum got angry, his confidence increased and his proficiency with magic skyrocketed. It was exactly what Tartum needed right now. It was exactly what he didn’t want to do, he knew what could happen if Tartum lost control when he was angry. He still couldn’t get the image of those people turning into that thick, pink mist out of his mind. He still saw the blood soaked clothes that were all that remained of them, when he closed his eyes.
“What choice do I have?” Isidor thought to himself. Fixing Tartum with his sternest look, he got ready to play out his gamble.
“Why!?! Do you think that just because you killed some people by accident, that everytime you touch a scroll you’ll kill more? Are you really that stupid? Are you really that simple?!? You don’t even have to read this one, you moron! It’s so you can bind it to your spellbook! Are you so dense that you’ve forgotten the scroll wouldn’t work for you, even if you did try to cast from it!? It’s written with MY blood ink, you idiot! I cannot believe that after all these years, you’re still so easily dissuaded because some whores and whoresons got killed. GROW UP!” Isidor was cold fury on the outside, but on the inside he was a knot of fear. Would Tartum kill him like the villagers in Zerous? Would he open himself to the source and vaporize him? Isidor stood there, keeping his facade up until Tartum made his move.
Tartum wasn’t mad, he was devastated. Isidor’s words cut him to his soul and severed something between them, Tartum couldn’t identify. He didn’t know why his Master, his best friend, would talk to him like this. He couldn’t understand why Isidor refused to acknolwedge that he was a little scroll shy after the incident that had almost killed him. That had killed many others. Tartum didn’t know what to do, or how to respond. Instead of saying anything, Tartum took the scroll and opened it. He wasn’t so much afraid of the scroll, as he was the memories and guilt it envoked.
Isidor realized he wasn’t about to be reduced to a liquid paste. He decided to press his advantage for as long as he could. He needed Tartum to learn this spell so he could leave him with a clear conscience.
“It’s a ward spell. You can place it on doors, your pack, or pouches; anything that closes really. It’s a very versatile spell. When you cast it, an invisible trap forms in the closed object. If someone you trust tries to open the object, nothing happens. The spell knows if you would want them to be granted access to whatever is inside and will not react. However, if someone you WOULDN’T want to access whatever it is you’ve locked away, the spell knows that too and reacts violently. The ward on the object you cast the spell on, lashes out with lightning stunning the invader, and usually tosses them back a few yards with the force. It’s usually not fatal...however, there have been incidences, where the person had a weak heart or a low constitution...or was wet...and was killed by the spell. So keep that in mind when using t
his spell. Here’s the component you’ll need.” Isidor tossed a pouch full of small granite stones in Tartum’s lap
“The directions are on the scroll. Bind it to your book and practice it on the door.” Isidor said. His voice became less harsh as he explained, and as he finished, he was talking to Tartum like they were old friends once again.
Tartum was still very nervous about the scroll, but the idea of learning a new spell that was so useful quickly banished his fear. He was worried about a reoccurance of what happened last time he bound a scroll to his book. He decided to remind his master about this fact.
“Master, what about what happened last time? You said that I almost burned out. I don’t want that to happen again.” Tartum said
Isidor had thought of that. He was hoping Tartum would have forgotten and just do as he was told. Isidor hoped that the first time had just been a fluke. He decided since his gambling had paid off so far, he’d stretch his luck a little further. Tartum needed to learn to control his power. What better way to practice?
“Control yourself. You know what to expect, right? You remember how it felt last time and when you began to lose control. If that happens this time, DO NOT LET IT! It’s time for you to grow up and get control of your magic. If you can’t cast this basic spell without panicking about what might happen, then you should probably give up casting altogether and become a useless farmer, just like your father!.” Isidor said, a little more harsh than he meant to be. He saw he was getting through to Tartum, but he could see his confidence slipping. Isidor decided a little encouragment might help.
“You can do this Tartum. You’re strong, don’t be such a coward. Being a caster requires courage. Impress me like you always do, bind the scroll to your book, and be quick about it!” Isidor said, a bit more upbeat. It had the desired effect.
Tartum mentally prepared himself. He could do this! Isidor believed in him. There would be no more failure for him when it came to magic. What was he so afraid of anyway? If that was what potential burn out felt like, he didn’t understand what the big deal was. It was one of the most exhilarating experiences of his life!
Tartum reached into his pouch and pulled out his spellbook. Opening the cover, he opened himself to the source. The familiar feeling of joy and pain came over him and erased all self doubt. He slowly began to channel magic into the scroll, he then channeled the magic through the scroll, into his spell book. As the magic began to flow into the book, Tartum felt a surge come from his book. It was a powerful feeling, just like it had been the first time, but Tartum was prepared and focused his will to push it back. It resisted at first, Tartum’s confidence began to waver for just a moment, then he got angry.
The Gods damn magic WILL obey me!, Tartum told himself. I control the magic, it DOES NOT CONTROL ME! He fought furiously with the surge that was resisiting him. With his anger swelling up inside, the surge that threatened to overwhelm him receded, and Tartum was in full control again.
“Korack-Jeeta!” Tartum said with confidence. There was a flash of blue light, and Tartum felt the scroll leap from his hand. When he looked down, he saw the scroll was now the new front page of his book. Maybe it was the magic flowing through his veins, maybe it was the victory over the magic that tried to overwhelm him. Tartum felt invincible and released his connection to the source.
“Stand back, Master, I’ve got a new spell to experiment with.” Tartum said, with a flourish of his hand.
The two men laughed at Tartum’s bravado. His success eased the tention between them for the moment. After they regained control, Tartum took to mastering his new spell with vigor. Over the next three days, he mastered the spell and was ready for more.
...
Over the next couple weeks, Isidor and Tartum spent their time exploring the city. It had been a long time since Isidor had been to Saroth, and Tartum had never left Zerous. They got to know the area very well and even made friends with some of the vendors and merchants that traded fairly in the market. Isidor was trying very hard to get Tartum as well connected and respected in the town, as fast as possible. He wanted to get him established in Saroth before he left him. There were few magic stores in Saroth, and most of them were small, inadequate, and unworthy of their time or coin. Only one was worth the materials used in its contruction, and that store was run by a very short and thin woman by the name of Shu-Shu.
Shu-shu was very short for a human. Tartum estimated her height at around four and a half feet tall, her weight around seventy pounds. She wore her brown hair short and straight. It framed her frail face well and made her look like she was wearing a hood. She wore a brown, form fitting shirt that matched her hair and that she tucked into her skirt. Her skirt was a faded blue color that ran all the way to the floor. It was filthy at the bottom, where the skirt appeared to be used as a broom that swept up the floor as she walked across it. She carried a hand made sack around with her, but what was in it was anyone’s guess. Occasionally, Tartum thought he saw something inside move. She wasn’t an attractive woman by any stretch of the word, but there was something about her that endeared her to anyone that looked upon her. Isidor had said after their first meeting, that it was probably a weak charm spell she used to promote business. Tartum thought if that was true, it was very clever.
Shu-shu had one other trait that Tartum truly enjoyed. Shu-shu was utterly, totally, and completely crazy. Tartum was very fond of her. She made him laugh, and as irrational as they were, he loved her rants. She would talk about the craziest things, and in the end, Tartum always walked away from her tirades, feeling like he just learned something important. Even if he had no rational idea what that was. It was always a treat to talk with her though, and because of that, Tartum frequented her shop regularly.
Shu-shu’s shop didn’t have a traditional name. It was simply called, “Tarishu” and in one of her more lucid moments, she had confided to Tartum it was her real name. She also told Tartum that if he ever called her by it, she would cut him up and sell him for parts. He could still remember the look in her eyes when she told him how no one would question it. Then she tossed him a small ball of wax and claimed she had to heat up the snow she was cooking. Tartum knew she probably meant her threat, and he also knew she could probably get away with it. Most of the people in Saroth avoided this shop and saw it as a gathering place for occult members, or some kind of odd taboo. Shu-shu never had any problems with the local guards, however. She had them all bought and paid for, and the guards seemed very fond of Shu-shu. They came by alot to get free Kosar Root.
It was a popular root with the guards and anyone else that had to patrol the city for long, boring hours. When chewed, it mixed with the person’s saliva and tasted like a rich, smoky meat. When one swallowed the juices, it provided energy to the consumer that made staying alert during their shift much easier. The root itself was found naturally in the mountains, well over a month away, so it was very rare in town. Most taverns that had a supply of it, charged exorbitant prices for just a piece of the root. Shu-shu gave whole roots to the guards for free. In return, they didn’t press her for taxes, and her store was known to have a special kind of protection.
There was once a man, named Belgeon, that came into town and fancied himself a businessman. He got the idea into his head that he would take over Saroth’s commerce, shop by shop, through bribes, threats, and blackmail, until he was getting a piece of all the profits in the city. He was well on his way to achieveing his goal, when he set his sights on Tarishu. He couldn’t find any information on Shu-shu, that he could use to blackmail her, when he tried to bribe her with everything from money, to rare spell components, she threw him out on his butt. Shu-shu was not only a spell shop proprioter, but she was also a caster of some skill. Belgeon became frustrated and decided to use muscle to get his piece of Shu-shu’s profits. He stormed into her shop with three thugs and started off his negotiations by slapping her across the face.
Minutes after Belgeon and his thugs went into her shop, six guards
went flying in behind them. No one knows the exact details of what occured next, but an hour later, the six guards brought out four bodies, that were summarily staked to the wall that surrounded the city. Since that day, no one had ever gone into Shu-shu’s magic shop to cause trouble, and the respect she recieved from her patrons was almost regal in nature. Needless to say, Shu-shu never ran low on her supply on Kosar Root and enjoyed the protection the plant root afforded her.
Tartum was on his way to Shu-shu’s shop on an errand for Isidor. He gave him a large amount of money and told him to buy a bunch of components to restock his supply. The chore confused Tartum, because he hadn’t needed to use his components since the last time they purchased some, but he didn’t mind the opportunity to visit Shu-shu. It had been a week since he’d seen her last, and he was hoping for another one of her entertaining rants.
Tartum walked through the door of the shop and saw Shu-shu arranging stones on the countertop where she spent most of her time. She was saying something to the rocks, too quiet for him to understand. She looked like she was concentrating, so Tartum said nothing and moved closer to watch. Suddenly, the rocks that were arranged in a circle on the counter, began to glow a bright purple color and started spinning. They were spinning so fast, that they turned into a blur of purple light. Tartum was amazed at the sight and stood still, not wanting to disturb the spell. Shu-shu stood over the spinning purple ring, waving her hands around in a gesture Tartum had never seen before. He was so awestruck by what he was seeing that he barely noticed Shu-shu picking up another component, and before he could identify it, throw it into the circle. It instantly disintegrated and became a smaller glowing orange ring inside the purple one. They both spun around in a blur, Shu-shu made another gesture, and the purple ring began to collapse into the orange ring. When the two blurs of light met, there was a dazzling flash, and Tartum let out a gasp in his amazement.
The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 Page 14