Read Online The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 by William D. Latoria - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William D. Latoria
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to...didn’t it? Sure, he had to force it a little, but the light and smoke absorbed into the staff, just like with the coin! So why isn’t it working now? Thinking about what happened, Tartum remembered when the coin was enchanted with the infused light, it had shone brightly for a moment. So overcome with anger, Tartum didn’t notice if the gold on the staff had glowed or not. Thinking hard, he did, in fact remember seeing the staff glow, but it wasn’t all the gold. Just one part, only one of the six strands of gold that ran down the length of his staff, had shone with the brilliance he should have been looking for.
Tartum opened himself slightly to the magic. He did it without thinking, an instinctual reaction to the situation. One strand at a time, he placed his finger on each of the gold lines. As he did so, he uttered the word, “ light ” and waited to see if the gold responded. The first strand didn’t, neither did the second or the third. As Tartum placed his finger on the fourth line of gold, he felt a small tug on the magic inside him. He had never felt anything like it before. It was as if this particular strand was responding to him, or rather, the magic flowing inside him. The feeling of the response made Tartum begin to perspire.
“ Light .” he spoke, just above a whisper. The line of gold began to shine. A soft yellowish light, beamed the entire length of the golden strand. As the gold began to glow, the slight tug he felt became a suction on the magic within him. The staff was feeding off the magic, flowing through him. Fear gripped Tartum, and he pulled his hand away. Immediately the light went out, and the pull he felt disappeared.
“I’ll be damned!” Tartum said, in disbelief. He placed his finger back on the strand, and the tug was back. “ Light .” He said in a normal tone, and the gold lit up. This time it was brighter, and the pull on the magic inside him was stronger. It was amazing! The enchantment was feeding off the magic, he was drawing from the source. Tartum didn’t fully understand why it was working like this, and he didn’t care. He knew enough about what he had done to make it work.
Tartum thought about what had just happened. About one of the lessons Isidor had taught him, earlier in his training. Magic couldn’t be forced, it was too strong for a mortal to control. Isidor had told him this, over and over again, throughout the years, and yet, isn’t that what he had just done? Hadn’t he, in his anger, forced the magic to respond and do his bidding? Maybe it was the excitment of success, followed so closely by the bitter taste of failure. Maybe it was his exhaustion from a day of recreation, or the amount of magic he had just channeled through himself, but Tartum just didn’t care. He knew it had worked, he knew he had made it work, and he also knew that now he had the advantage needed to beat his master and renew his lessons in magic. It was enough for now.
“ Dark .” he said. The the light that shone from his staff went dark, and Tartum smiled. Laughing to himself, he walked back to the wagon to get some sleep.
...
Two days had passed. Two days of listening to Isidor whine and moan, about how his head hurt, and how much he just wanted it to stop pounding. Two days of listening to him make deals with invisible Gods, that if they would just make the pain go away, he would never drink again. If the Gods were listening, they gave no sign. For two days, Tartum paced around the wagon, bringing Isidor water and bread when he called for it. Then he would bring him towels and a bucket, so he could retch it all back up. When Isidor fell asleep, Tartum would go to the front of the wagon and practice with his staff. He dared not speak the word that would illuminate the gold in his staff. He was terrified, that if Isidor didn’t get well soon, the enchantment would wear off or not be bright enough to distract him. To compensate, Tartum decided it would be a good idea
Tartum opened himself slightly to the magic. He did it without thinking, an instinctual reaction to the situation. One strand at a time, he placed his finger on each of the gold lines. As he did so, he uttered the word, “ light ” and waited to see if the gold responded. The first strand didn’t, neither did the second or the third. As Tartum placed his finger on the fourth line of gold, he felt a small tug on the magic inside him. He had never felt anything like it before. It was as if this particular strand was responding to him, or rather, the magic flowing inside him. The feeling of the response made Tartum begin to perspire.
“ Light .” he spoke, just above a whisper. The line of gold began to shine. A soft yellowish light, beamed the entire length of the golden strand. As the gold began to glow, the slight tug he felt became a suction on the magic within him. The staff was feeding off the magic, flowing through him. Fear gripped Tartum, and he pulled his hand away. Immediately the light went out, and the pull he felt disappeared.
“I’ll be damned!” Tartum said, in disbelief. He placed his finger back on the strand, and the tug was back. “ Light .” He said in a normal tone, and the gold lit up. This time it was brighter, and the pull on the magic inside him was stronger. It was amazing! The enchantment was feeding off the magic, he was drawing from the source. Tartum didn’t fully understand why it was working like this, and he didn’t care. He knew enough about what he had done to make it work.
Tartum thought about what had just happened. About one of the lessons Isidor had taught him, earlier in his training. Magic couldn’t be forced, it was too strong for a mortal to control. Isidor had told him this, over and over again, throughout the years, and yet, isn’t that what he had just done? Hadn’t he, in his anger, forced the magic to respond and do his bidding? Maybe it was the excitment of success, followed so closely by the bitter taste of failure. Maybe it was his exhaustion from a day of recreation, or the amount of magic he had just channeled through himself, but Tartum just didn’t care. He knew it had worked, he knew he had made it work, and he also knew that now he had the advantage needed to beat his master and renew his lessons in magic. It was enough for now.
“ Dark .” he said. The the light that shone from his staff went dark, and Tartum smiled. Laughing to himself, he walked back to the wagon to get some sleep.
...
Two days had passed. Two days of listening to Isidor whine and moan, about how his head hurt, and how much he just wanted it to stop pounding. Two days of listening to him make deals with invisible Gods, that if they would just make the pain go away, he would never drink again. If the Gods were listening, they gave no sign. For two days, Tartum paced around the wagon, bringing Isidor water and bread when he called for it. Then he would bring him towels and a bucket, so he could retch it all back up. When Isidor fell asleep, Tartum would go to the front of the wagon and practice with his staff. He dared not speak the word that would illuminate the gold in his staff. He was terrified, that if Isidor didn’t get well soon, the enchantment would wear off or not be bright enough to distract him. To compensate, Tartum decided it would be a good idea
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