The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 by William D. Latoria Page A

it became too much. Snagging up his coin purse, Tartum went to the market and purchased the most comfortable table and sturdy chair he could find.
    Incredibly well crafted, the top of the table was one solid round piece of oak. The bark of the parent tree was still ringing the edge. The top, itself, was sanded down smooth and had been treated with some sort of laquer that made the surface completely flat and even. The legs extended from the center and spread out enough to ensure the table wouldn’t wobble or shake. It was high enough that Tartum didn’t have to hunch when he wrote on it. In all aspects, the table was perfect for his needs.
    The chair he purchased was from the same vendor. After going through his relatively small stock of chairs, Tartum saw the chair the shop owner had been sitting in. It was incredibly worn and weathered. It had more chips and stains on it than all the other furniture combined, but something about it caught his attention. Without asking, Tartum had sat in the chair. It was perfect; firm, form fitting, and supportive. Sitting in the chair, caused his body to naturally assume a writing position. It turned out to be an heirloom of the shop owner’s. Luckily for Tartum, cold hard gold held more value to him than family heritage. Tartum liked that and had both pieces delivered to the wagon.
    Now sitting there in his mismatched but perfectly suited furniture, Tartum looked at his latest attempt. It was good. The glowing blue ink was alight in the scroll, and the words were neat and legible. The gestures were drawn with care, and all he had to do was finish up the component description, and he would have completed his fifteenth scroll.
    Dipping the quill in the ink, Tartum focused on writing with the magic and finished up the final few lines of the scroll. Leaning back in his chair again, Tartum held onto the magic for just a moment longer, exalting in the sensation. Releasing the magic, Tartum took a moment to appreciate his work. Even though he had spent the last month writing scrolls, cutting his fingers on his non-writing hand to refill the ink jars, it turned out that creating ink only took him a few tries to perfect.It was a very easy bit of magic. With only a little smoke inhalation and sore fingers on his left hand to complain about, Tartum picked up his completed scrolls and went to find Isidor.
    Tartum found him sitting in his bed of pillows reading. Isidor closed the book when he saw Tartum coming and put it under one of the pillows next to him. Tartum thought it was odd but was too caught up in his own achievement to give it a second thought.
    “Here are those fifteen perfectly transcribed scrolls you asked for, Master.” Tartum said, his voice dripping in sarcasm and pride.
    “Nice, and it only took you a month to finish. I was beginning to think you’d never be done. Even after you went out and got all that fancy furniture.” Isidor said, seeing Tartum deflate a little. He didn’t want him getting too arrogant, no matter how well he was doing. A little humility would do him good.
    Examining the scrolls, Isidor saw they were exactly what he expected. Perfect. Not one flaw, not one blemish. The scrolls were as perfect as if Tartum had been doing nothing else but scribing his entire life. It was as if he had been made by the Gods, specifically to master magic in all its forms. Isidor was, once again, very proud of his pupil. He would be damned before he told him as much however.
    “These will suffice, Tartum. They aren’t great, but they are good enough for a novice.” Isidor kept his voice flat and unimpressed. This served to further deflate Tartum. “ Good! ” Isidor thought, “I need him to be humble for this next part. I don’t want him killing us with his ego.”
    “Oh stop your pouting, I said they would suffice. Come on. Now that you know how to create them, let’s teach you how to use them. Also, go get your spell book. Meet me outside after you fetch it.”