The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1

by Latoria, William D.

  Her statement brought a realization to Tartum that he had forgotten. He was so wrapped up in his training, and struggling to survive it, that he hadn’t thought about what he was going to be doing after it was all completed. “What can you tell me about the missions, babe?” Tartum asked.

  Elizabeth giggled, “Nothing really. We go out, take what were sent to get, bring it back to a drop off location or just back to Savall. No two missions are alike, but they’re always exciting. In fact, look what I brought.” Elizabeth rolled out of bed and walked over to the box she had thrown on the table when their love making had started.

  Tartum loved to look at her naked body. The grace she moved with, the sway, the way her curves and muscles all moved together. She was the embodiment of lust and desire. She was an angel, his angel. He had never been so in love his entire life. Picking up the box, she turned and saw him looking at her. Her grin got bigger, and she put her hand on her hip. “What are you looking at, pervert?!” she teased.

  Sauntering over to him, she jumped back under the covers and favored him with a quick kiss. Then pushing away his probing hands, she presented him with the box. There wasn’t anything interesting about it. It was old and poorly made. The wood was beat up and there were cracks and chunks missing from it. The only significant thing about the box was the brass lock on the front of it. It was heavily scratched and dented. It looked like someone had tried, numerous times, to open it and failed. Tartum shook the box but heard nothing inside. Confused, he looked at Elizabeth.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.

  Elizabeth playfully thumped him on the head. “You casters never see past your own nose. You’re going to learn how to pick the lock, sweetie!” with that, she slipped out of bed and started putting her clothes back on. Intrigued, Tartum got himself up and put on his clothes. Never in his life had the thought occurred to him to learn how to pick locks. Now that the option was available, he found himself very excited at the prospect.

  The task was simple. Use the lock picks to open the box. It was as simple as that. Elizabeth had explained that in order to pick a lock, you had to insert the tool that looked like a pick into the top of the keyhole and then insert a thicker tool that looked like a file into the bottom. The pick tool was used to adjust the weighted tumblers inside the lock until you felt them shift into place. Once all the tumblers were in place you used the file tool to turn the lock while holding the tumblers in place with the pick tool. If you did everything correctly, the lock would open quick and smooth. If you failed to do it correctly, or moved to hastily, the picks could get caught and break off inside the lock. This would destroy the lock and any hope you had of getting inside it.

  Tartum watched Elizabeth intently. She put in the pick and file tool and unlocked the box within seconds. Then, just as quickly, she would relock the box and shoot him one of her gorgeous grins. After three or four demonstrations, Elizabeth handed the tools to him. “Your turn, Sweetie!” she said.

  Tartum was thrilled. It looked so easy! Inserting the pick and file into the lock Tartum began to feel his way around. He was able to discern that there were three tumblers inside; he was also able to get them to shift into place relatively easy. It took him a few tries to get the hang of turning the pick and file tools simultaneously, but once he did it became second nature. After about five minutes of tinkering with the lock Tartum heard a satisfying “click” and the box opened. Now it was Tartum’s turn to shoot Elizabeth a grin. When he turned to look at her, he found her looking at him with her mouth hanging open; a bewildered look of amazement in her eyes.

  “Tartum...Sweetie...” she started, “Have you ever done this before?” she gave him an accusatory look.

  Tartum was a little put off by her question. “Um, no. Why? Did I do it wrong?” Tartum was very confused by her reaction.

  Elizabeth still looked confused and took the lock pick tools from Tartum. Inserting them back into the lock, she relocked the box, then thrust the tools back into Tartum’s hands. “Do it again. Let’s see if you’re really that good or if it was luck.” Elizabeth challenged him.

  Still confused but eager to try his hand at this new skill again, Tartum reinserted the tools and after about a minute, he was able to unlock the box. Just to add insult to injury, he quickly relocked and unlocked the box. With a smile, Tartum held up his tools. “Anything else around here you need me to unlock, babe?”

  Elizabeth just stood there and smiled. Favoring Tartum with a quick kiss Elizabeth said; “Sweetheart, I do believe you are a natural!”

  Over the next few days, Elizabeth brought numerous boxes to Tartum. Each box was significantly more difficult to unlock. Each had more tumblers than the next, or the tumblers were harder to shift into place due to age or grime. Elizabeth even tried distracting him by slapping him on the butt or screaming at a particularly crucial moment. None of it swayed him, however, and after a few minutes with each lock, Tartum mastered it. Elizabeth had never been more impressed with a recruit. As such, she rewarded Tartum’s skill each night. He was enjoying this training immensely. After a few days of lock picking and debauchery, Elizabeth showed up to his room with a green box and Vaund. Tartum was immediately on edge.

  “Hello, Vaund. I suppose I’ll be near death soon huh?” Tartum tried to joke. The edge in his voice betrayed his fear.

  Vaund looked hurt at Tartum’s comment but said nothing. He simply nodded at Tartum and leaned against the wall. It was Elizabeth that spoke.

  “I have a real challenge for you today, Sweetie.” She said. If anything was amiss, Tartum couldn’t tell. She was acting as wonderful as ever.

  Elizabeth continued, “This is part two of your training. This series of green boxes has a little, something, extra to them that if you fail to notice, you will be punished.” Elizabeth’s wicked grin was back. Tartum had learned to dread that look. Last time he saw it he had to choke her; he was hoping that wouldn’t be the case today.

  “What is the, something, extra?” Tartum asked. He was very nervous now. Being punished in this guild usually meant getting killed or something close to it. Having Vaund in the room did nothing to alleviate his concerns.

  Elizabeth’s eyes flashed, “If I told you then it would ruin the surprise!” She purred. Tartum felt goose bumps rise on the back of his neck. He had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to like this. Tartum knew Elizabeth well enough by now to know he wasn’t going to get any more information out of her and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have a bad day.

  Oh well. Tartum thought to himself; I guess I was due for a bad day by now. With a sigh, Tartum stood up and walked over to Elizabeth and the dreaded green box.

  Elizabeth placed the box on his table and then handed him his tools. “Go ahead, honey. See if you can pick this lock.” was all the instruction she gave him. Tartum didn’t like this.

  Sitting down and inserting his tools into the lock, Tartum began probing around the tumblers with the pick as he inserted the file. The lock was actually a simple one. Only five tumblers were inside, and they were perfectly aligned and would require very little skill to open. The simplicity of it all terrified him. Looking at Elizabeth, he begged with his eyes for a hint or a clue as to what he should be looking for. If she noticed she gave no sign. She just stood over him, watching. She seemed to be expecting something. Vaund was still leaning against the wall. He seemed bored with all of this and was busying himself by picking at the seam of his cloak.

  Not knowing what else to do, Tartum did the only thing he could do. He focused his attention back on the lock. Might as well find out what everyone else already knew, he decided. With Vaund in the room, Tartum didn’t think it was going to kill him. It was just going to really, really hurt. Sighing, he started shifting the tumblers one at a time. The first two tumblers shifted into place with no problem. The third tumbler seemed a little stiff, it confused him. It almost felt like there was something pushing back against the tumbler itself. Perhaps a spring or
a bit of debris, he couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it was inhibiting Tartum’s ability to shift the tumbler into its proper spot. Using a little more force than usual, he pushed the tumbler past whatever was impeding his progress. The tumbler shifted slowly at first, then whatever it was that was resisting gave way and the tumbler shifted well past its designated position. Tartum heard a snap and felt something bite into his finger. Looking down, Tartum saw a small needle sticking out of the lock. It had jabbed him, and as he looked at the wound, a small drop of blood ran down his hand.

  Tartum was thoroughly confused. He looked at Elizabeth and Vaund. Elizabeth had a look of sympathy in her eyes. Vaund’s attention was now on him, and he had taken a step or two towards him. Neither of their demeanors did anything to comfort Tartum. He just couldn’t understand it. The little needle didn’t hurt, and the wound was superficial at best. He couldn’t figure out why they were acting so strange.

  “What’s going...” was all Tartum got out before pain wracked his entire body. Convulsing, Tartum’s sudden movement knocked him off the chair and onto the floor. Writhing in agony, Tartum tried to scream but, his body wouldn’t respond to his commands. His muscles seized and shook beyond his control. His arms and legs flailed, and wave upon wave of pain flooded over him, each one more intense than the last. Vaguely, through the haze of pain, Tartum could make out Elizabeth, trying to hold him down and Buddy barking. He couldn’t think anymore, his whole world was pain. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain stopped. His body was sore and stiff to be sure, but the pain was completely gone. Elizabeth had cradled his head in her lap and was stroking his hair. She had stuck some sort of stick in his mouth, and Tartum spit it out. Buddy was whining and barking his dismay and licking Tartum all over. Apparently his fit had awoken him and brought him out of his hiding place under the bed.

  “I’m alright boy, I’m alright.” Tartum said, as he patted Buddy on his head. Buddy slumped down on the floor against him and offered all the support he could. Tartum looked up at Elizabeth. “What the hell was that!?” he asked.

  Elizabeth wiped her eyes before replying. “That, my love, was the price of failure and the only way to teach this lesson and know for sure it sinks in. The most valuable of items and information are always kept in containers that have the most intricate of locks and the most deadly of traps. What you just experienced was a weaker and easily made trap that poisons your body and causes extreme pain. Believe it or not, that was the heavily watered down version. The pure version that you’ll encounter on your missions would have caused your body to fold in on itself, your bones to break, and your eyes to burst. That’s why Vaund is here. We weren’t sure exactly how much harm it was going to do to you. I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I have to train you like this for your own good.” The tears were back in her eyes.

  Tartum let what she had said sink in. She had taught him to pick locks, and he truly enjoyed his new skill. Now, just like everything else he had learned, there was a life threatening part to it, and one mistake could be his last. Just like with magic. Just like with combat. Tartum found it ironic that everything that he enjoyed doing in this world could kill him if he ever did it wrong. I guess that’s as good a reason as any to become the best at everything. He told himself.

  Sighing, Tartum sat up. He was a little stiff and dizzy, but all things considered, he didn’t feel too bad. Buddy stood up at his movement and whined his protest. Tartum smiled and patted him on his head. “Relax, Buddy, I’m sure now that Elizabeth has shown me the pain, she’s about to teach me how to circumvent it.” Tartum hinted.

  As if to confirm what he said, Elizabeth playfully slapped Tartum upside his head. Helping him to his feet, she looked into his eyes and said, “Yes honey, let’s teach you how to not get yourself killed. After all, I still have some things I want from you.” She said, favoring him with a wink.

  ...

  Over the next few months Elizabeth brought him dozens of boxes, each with a trap more sinister than the next. She taught him about how to detect a trap, how to determine what type of trap it was, how to tell if it could be disarmed, and how difficult it would be. She taught him about all the different types of traps and the three classifications every trap fell into. Traps that could destroy you, traps that destroyed the container’s contents, and traps that destroyed everything. The latter was usually the most dangerous and most difficult to detect and disarm.

  Elizabeth explained that the traps that would only harm him were simpler. They involved poisoned needles and simple magic spells like his fire orb spell or other equally deadly missiles. Some sent out clouds of poison, and others simply snuffed the life out of anyone touching the container at the time the trap was triggered. These traps could be works of ingenius engineering or complex warding spells. Yet, regardless of if the trap was magical or mundane, they all could be disarmed or bypassed by a skilled locksmith.

  Traps that would only destroy the contents of the container they protected were much more devious. Half the power involved with a trap that could harm the lock picker was allowing the individual picking the lock to know his life was in danger. The same was not true for content destroying spells. Elizabeth explained that these types of traps have ruined plenty of missions due to impatient or over arrogant guild members that did not take the time to properly evaluate the lock once they had determined they personally weren’t in any danger. The people employing these types of traps didn’t want the individual trying to access them to know they might destroy that which they sought. This was most common in containers that held important logistics information or personal items that, if discovered, would cause significant harm to the rightful owner’s social or financial life. To the owners, this information was too dangerous to allow into the open, yet too vital to simply destroy. Therefore, these documents were worth a forutune, and the traps used to defend them usually were too. Hence, they were much more difficult to detect and disarm.

  The final type of trap was the all consuming death trap. These were the most powerful, most destructive, and most dangerous of traps. Elizabeth had explained that if a trap that only harms the lock picker goes off, the item is still intact and could possibly be recovered by a more skilled thief later on. If the trap that destroys only the contents goes off, the lock picker lives to try again and learns from their failure. In either situation it’s not a total loss, and therefore, the guild can recover. With a trap that destroys both the individual and the contents, it means that the mission is a total loss, and those were the kind of failures the guild couldn’t afford. When a total destruction trap is detected, a novice guild member was told not to attempt to disarm it and get a veteran member immediately. Jeth or Elizabeth were the ones Tartum was told to inform. These traps were usually magical in nature, although a few known dwarven types were out there that baffled even the most experienced of thieves. These dwarven boxes were usually brought to the nearest dwarven compound with their weight in gold and precious gems to bribe the dwarven smiths to open them. Needless to say, missions requiring dwarven help were almost always unprofitable, so it was rare the guild took those missions knowingly.

  Elizabeth had spent the most time with him on these types of traps, and with Savall’s approval, taught Tartum what she knew on how to disarm such a trap. His success rate with individual only and content only trap disarmament was close to one hundred percent. It was an exceedingly rare occurance, at the end of his three months, that he would fail to disarm one. His success rate with the third and most deadly type of traps was, at best, fifty-fifty. So frustrated with this type of trap, that in an act of cruelty towards himself, he began calling them “Hilarys” to remind himself about the woman in his home town he had failed so miserably and thus, caused his exile. While Tartum wasn’t happy with his progress with “Hilarys”, Elizabeth told him that he was better at disarming them than Jeth was. In a moment of extreme kindness one night, after a particularly vigorus love making session, she confided in him that his skill with lock picking and trap
disarmament rivaled her own. Only Savall had ever come close to matching her skill with lock picking, and she was both impressed and jealous with his natural ability. Her comment had bolstered Tartum’s confidence considerably.

  It was no shock to anyone when Jeth appraised Tartum’s lessons with Elizabeth complete and told him he was ready for the next phase of his training. Elizabeth and Tartum celebrated mightily that night and well into the morning. Tartum had enjoyed this part of his training immensely and found that knowing it was over to be bittersweet.

  CHAPTER 16

  A few days after his appraisal, Tartum was roused from his sleep by Rashlarr. “Tartum! Tartum! Wake up, apprentice! Tell your dog to back down!” Rashlarr called from the doorway.

  Waking up, Tartum saw Buddy was doing his guard dog thing and keeping Rashlarr at bay outside his room. Smiling, Tartum called Buddy off and invited Rashlarr in. Tartum busied himself with washing up and getting dressed. He hadn’t expected Rashlarr this morning. He was hoping he still had more to learn from Elizabeth. It was in this moment, he realized what Rashlarr’s being here meant. His magical training was about to continue! It had been so long since Tartum had learned anything new about magic, he had forgotten his initial reasoning for accepting Rashlarr’s offer over a year ago. Tartum felt it had been far too long and was very excited to get back on track with his true goal. Finishing up his morning routine in record time, Tartum joined Rashlarr, who had taken a seat at the table.

  “So Tartum, what magical abilities do you possess?” he asked. Rashlarr seemed to be in a good mood today. Over the months when Tartum had seen him, it was only briefly, and he almost always seemed to be angry about something. So brooding and dark had he been that on the off chance Tartum did pass Rashlarr, he usually didn’t engage him in conversation. If Rashlarr bore him any ill will over that fact it didn’t show. The Rashlarr in front of him was the same jovial man that had recruited him back at The Crenshaw. Tartum perferred this version of Rashlarr over the other, ten fold.