Tartum beamed with pleasure at his master’s praise. It was only the second time he had ever approved of his skill. The sudden change with how he acknolodged his triumphs was...nice. Tartum realized he really wanted to impress Isidor, and it was good to know that he was, even if only a little.
“Ok, enough of this womanly chatter. You’ll want to hug me, next.” Isidor said, feigning disgust, “You must tell me, how did you modify the enchantment spell? I assume it was your simple light enchantment. How did you get it to enchant your staff. I already put the fortification spells on it. You couldn’t have removed it, I doubt you could figure it out, and the staff would have shattered after my first blow, without it. Also, the light was far more intense than with the coin. How did you figure it out? Did someone help you?” Isidor asked, more than a little annoyed at the thought of someone else teaching his pupil.
Tartum smiled, he liked the fact that Isidor was taking such an interest in his accomplishments. He was all too eager to explain what he had done, “No master, no one else helped me. I figured out that you had enchanted the jade and not the gold in my staff, so I enchanted one of the strands that run along it. As you can see, it held up very well. During the enchantment process, I used a much greater amount of components than with the coin. The book is vague about quantity, so I figured, the more, the better. I’m sorry, but you’re out of pinecones and sulfur.” Tartum said, a little embarrassed at what he felt was boasting. Getting over it, he continued; “I also took your advice about infusing the enchantment spell with more magic than with the coin. It wasn’t easy, but I channeled as much magic into the spell as I could, trying to infuse it into everything.”
Looking down, Tartum frowned as he remembered the next part of his story, “I almost failed actually, I thought my staff was going to shatter! As you can see, however, in the end I made it work, rather spectacularly, I might add!” Tartum smiled, at his final comment. He was in a fine mood and felt like some mild boasting was in order.
Isidor was speechless. If Tartum was telling the truth, he had accomplished something amazing! Did he really combine more components into his enchantment, than before? Did he really enchant a material, that was connected to an already enchanted material? There was no way! How did the magic know to enchant the gold and not the jade? Magic didn’t differentiate materials. It was the item as a whole, that was enchanted, not the individual parts. How was it that the two enchantments weren’t clashing, and cancelling each other out? How was it the attempt didn’t end in an explosion? Magic didn’t work this way. You couldn’t force another enchament on an already enchanted item, no matter how many materials it was made from. The polarity of the multiple spells would repell each other, causing both spells to fail. In fact, that was the fundamental way DISENCHANTING worked! Tartum’s attempt to enchant his staff should have destroyed it! Hell, it should have killed Tartum! STUPID! He had warned him strongly, against any attempt to further enchant the staff! Yet, somehow, he had managed to do the impossible. Or was he lying? He had to be! There was something else! But, what if he was telling the truth? What did that mean?
“Bring me your staff, Tartum” Isidor said just above a whisper.
Tartum couldn’t make out what his master had said, so absorbed had he come in stroking his own ego. He leaned closer.
“What was that?” he asked.
“BRING ME YOUR DAMN STAFF!” Isidor yelled at him.
The sudden change in his tone startled Tartum, and he ran to obey. Fetching his staff, Tartum ran back to his master and handed it to him. Isidor took it carefully and studied it for a moment. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he opened himself to the source. Isidor guided the flow of magic, now flowing through him, into Tartum’s staff. The jade of the staff felt warm in Isidor’s hands. The sensation told him the jade had magic in it, the intensity of the heat let him know it was a medium-level enchantment. The greater the heat, the greater the magic being held in the material. Then Isidor began touching the gold strands and allowing the trickle of magic to flow into them.
The first strand he tested, yielded nothing, neither did the second or the third. When he tested the fourth strand, something he’d never experienced before, happened. The magic in the gold reacted to the magic being passsed into it. It was as if the gold strand craved more, and it forcefully pulled at the magic flowing out of Isidor.
With a cry of fear, Isidor cut himself off from the source and threw down Tartum’s staff. Tartum caught it on the first bounce and glared at his master.
“Do not throw my staff!” He yelled, before he could control his temper. He held his staff close to him now, like a mother would shield a baby.
Isidor said nothing. He had no idea what kind of enchantment Tartum had placed on his staff, but it seemed unnatural. It scared Isidor; it terrified him. The material, itself, had tried to suck the magic from him, and the feeling was awful. In all his years, with all the evil and good things he had seen in his adventures, he had never known an enchantment to feed off the caster’s magic. He wondered if Tartum knew.
“Did you feel anything when you used the enchantment, Tartum? Anything at all, that didn’t feel like it did, when the coin lit up?” Isidor asked, this new enigma overriding his concern over his injuries and fatigue.
Tartum was confused. Isidor was acting very strange, and he was still angry at him for throwing down his staff. He knew it couldn’t be damaged by such an act, but it was the principal of the thing that upset him. This was supposed to be his moment of triumph, and his master was acting like a crazy old man. Anger started to bubble in the pit of his stomach.
“Yes, when I touch the enchanted strand of gold, I feel it pull on the magic inside me. It feels like the enchantment is drawing it out of me and into itself. It almost completely drained me during our match.” Tartum said curtly. He felt like he was on trial.
“Without opening yourself to the source, try to make the gold light up.” Isidor said, sitting up to observe better.
Tartum didn’t understand, in fact, he didn’t want to be near his master at that moment. His demeanor was haunting, and all the questions over such a simple enchantment was troubling. However, Tartum still had alot of respect for the man, even if he wasn’t very fond of him at the moment. He decided he would play along, for now. He owed him that much loyality at least.
Holding his staff out in front of him, Tartum spoke the word that would illuminate the gold.
“Light.”
Nothing happened.
“Light!” he repeated. “Light! Light! Light, light, light, LIGHT, LIGHT!!!” he said, speaking louder at each failed command, until he was shouting. The gold did nothing. Tartum was embarrassed. Could the enchantment have worn off? Did it burn itself out after the last time? He didn’t know how bright it had been, he had closed his eyes. Maybe it had worn off before he said “dark” and now he would have to re-enchant it.
Tartum looked at his master with the question burning in his eyes. Isidor saw the look on his face, and it reminded him of someone who had just bitten into a rotten lime. He couldn’t believe it. Tartum had no idea what he had done...what he had accomplished. Calming himself, Isidor spoke.
“Now open yourself to the source, just a little bit, mind you, and try again.” he said softly. He needed Tartum to be careful. If what he thought was going to happen, happened, it could kill him. To be honest, Isidor had no idea what to expect.
Opening himself to the source as instructed, Tartum brought forth the magic. It made him feel good, and so he let a bit more than he was ordered, and allowed it to flow inside him. His anger dissipated, and the ecstasy replaced it. Focusing, Tartum whispered the word.
“Light.”
The gold in the staff began to draw the magic out of Tartum. Not in the surge, as before, but it was definitely noticable. The feeling of ecstasy wasn’t as potent; weakness overshadowed the strength he received from the magic. He could tolerate it and still maintain his focus, but it was a queer sensation.
&nb
sp; The gold in the staff lit up, only slightly. The glow was a soft one, taking on the hue of the very material it came from. Isidor was in awe. Tartum’s magic powered the enchantment. Usually with enchantments, the power came from the components, and the magic that was channeled into the spell during the enchanting process. Once the magic ran out, the enchantment ceased to work and dissipated...just like with the coin. The more magic infused during the enchantment process, the longer the enchantment worked. It was complicated and required a certain degree of proficiency with spell casting, but that was the way they were supposed to work. The most powerful of enchantments, and those that were permanent, usually had either a tremendous amount of magic infused into the process, (which would require a caster with incredible, almost unheard of, ability) or the components themselves had a regenerative or concentrated quality to them and therefore, renewed the power inside the enchantment over time. The fortification spell, for example, had dragon eyes as one of the components.
Dragons weren’t overly intelligent creatures, no more than a dog or an ape. However, their natural ability with magic, and the fact that they sustained themselves with magic as well as with regular food (Much in the same way humans had to eat food and drink water to sustain their existance) made a dragon’s body parts excellent for enchaments, as well as many other facets of magic. Legends say that dragons were the original children of the Gods, and therefore were magic. There was no such thing as a permanent enchantment, in the truest sense of the word; however, the concentration of magic in the component, provided enough power to keep the enchantment functioning for hundreds of years. Only the very oldest of the elves could ever hope to see a “permanent” enchantment wear off. The eyes Isidor had bought for Tartum’s staff cost him half of his fortune. There was no way Tartum had had access to anything like that.
It struck Isidor as odd, that the gold was glowing with such a dull light. He remembered the flash during their battle. The light that came from it had been far more intense. He was surprised it hadn’t blinded him permanently. A thought occured to him then.
“Say the word louder Tartum.” he said.
“LIGHT!” Tartum said, loudly.
The gold flared. The pull on Tartum’s magic was increased tenfold, and it staggered him. He wasn’t ready for it and almost shut off his connection to the source. Refocusing his will, Tartum held on. The gold was brillant. Brighter than any torch in the world, the light filled the wagon. It banished the shadows and turned darkness into day. It wasn’t as intense as during the battle with Isidor, but it was impressive none the less.
“Ok, ok! That’s enough, Tartum. Put it out!” Isidor said holding his arms up in front of his eyes. The memory of the temporary blindness was still too fresh in his memory to make this a comfortable experiance.
“Dark.” Tartum said, and the light went out. The pull on Tartum’s magic ceased, but it had taken its toll on him. Wearily, Tartum sat down.
“Incredible. Your staff uses you for its power. Or rather, it uses the magic flowing through you to power it. It’s, it’s, it’s...well, I don’t know what it is. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I never would have thought it was possible, if I hadn’t just seen it with my own eyes!” Isidor said more to himself than to Tartum.
Isidor had no reference for this kind of magic. He didn’t know if it was safe or if it was dangerous. He assumed the latter, because it was siphoning the magic out of the user. In a real battle, where you need all the magic you can muster, it could very easily get you killed.
“You must be careful with that enchantment, Tartum. Use it only when you need too. I don’t know how long it will last; it could last forever, or it could last another five seconds. I really don’t know. I think it’s permanent, as long as it has a source of magic to draw from. I can’t say for sure. If it works like I think it does the louder you say “Light” the more intense the gold with shine. However, the drain on your magic will also be greater. I’d be careful to control the intensity of how you say that word, when envoking the enchantment. As I’m sure you noticed, the draining can be quite debilitating.” Isidor said. He was worried about this magic getting Tartum killed.
Tartum was pleased with the analysis. His staff was now more powerful, and it was thanks to him. He could tell by his master’s face, it had him perplexed and the knowledge gave him an odd sense of pride. He began to feel like he was becoming his master’s equal. He was also beginning to feel like the drain from the enchantment wasn’t bothering him as much as it had at first. Tartum hoped, that with enough practice, the drain wouldn’t be as crippling, or better yet, that he wouldn’t notice it at all. He decided he would find out when Isidor wasn’t around. He had to know the limitations of not only his staff’s enchantment, but of himself as well. It was the only goal he cared about achieving. Power obtained through the mastery of all aspects of magic. His eyes blazed with the thought.
Isidor saw the look in Tartum’s eyes and knew he wouldn’t be sated with this new power. He would want more and more until eventually, it consumed him. There was nothing for it. Isidor just hoped he grew up before it was too late. Sighing he decided to end the subject.
“Well enough of this pointless pondering. Your staff is quite remarkable, yes, but also dangerous. Do what you will with that magic. Now leave me, I must rest, SOMEONE hit me in the ribs today, and I must heal. When I’m well enough, we will resume your magic training, as promised. Until then, no more enchanting. I don’t need my home to become some sort of flaming light to appease your ego.” Isidor jabbed. Despite everything, he was still very proud, and impressed, with his pupil.
“Yes master. Try not to snore to loud, you’ll wake the dead.” Tartum chuckled and left his area.
“I don’t snore, you bastard.” Isidor said, as sleep came to claim him.
Tartum walked over to his bed of pillows and sat down, looking over his spell book. He opened it to the page where the light enchantment was. There, in specific detail, were the exact components and quantites he had used to enchant his staff. At the bottom, in big bold letters, was a new word: “PERMANENT”.
Tartum didn’t understand why the page had changed or why it was so specific now, as opposed to before. He didn’t really care. He liked that his book updated itself to keep up with his accomplishments. With his spell book in one hand and his staff in the other, sleep took him.
On his side of the bedding area, Isidor was sound asleep, snoring loudly.
CHAPTER 7
Tartum was sitting in the back of the wagon. Isidor had rearranged a few crates to be used as a makeshift table and chairs. Some of Tartum’s bed pillows were on the crates that were intended to be used as chairs, and made them comfortable enough. He had no idea why he was there. He assumed it was for his renewed magic training, but what he couldn’t figure out, was what kind of magicial training required a table and chairs. He didn’t even bring his staff or his spell book. He’d been sitting there for twenty minutes. His patience was starting to wear thin.
The sound of clinking glasses caught Tartum’s attention, and he turned around to see what it was. Coming up from behind him, was Isidor. He was carrying, what looked to be, four small empty pots, a handful of quills, and an enormus stack of parchment. Tartum’s patience snapped.
“If you intend to teach me how to read and write, I already learned how years ago. Or has your memory failed you finally. I didn’t think you were that old, Isidor.” Tartum said, the irritation plain in his voice.
“Shut up you spoiled brat, and pay attention. Don’t you think I know you can read and write? Wasn’t I the one that taught you? Haven’t I taught you everything you know?” Isidor countered.
Tartum’s irratation was squashed by Isidor’s words now, he felt ashamed for his outburst, “Ok, ok, I’m sorry, Isidor, but you left me here waiting forever, and you’re being very mysterious. What do you plan to teach me?” Tartum said, his voice respectful once again.
“Just listen.” Isidor said. Now it was his turn
to be irritated. Seeing Tartum was being quiet and looking at him expectantly, Isidor began. “As you know, casting spells takes a bit of preparation. The more powerful the spell, the more preparation it requires. This can be very tedious and life threatening to a caster, especially in a combat situation. Therefore, men far greater than you invented a way to stockpile their spells in the written word. Today, my boy, you begin your training in writing scrolls.” Isidor said, finishing the last part with a smile.
Tartum had never thought of the possibility of being able to stockpile his spells like this. The idea was intriguing. With nothing more than a case or two of scrolls, Tartum could cast his spells at will! It seemed to good to be true.
“Wait, if all we have to do is write our spells down on a scrap of paper, and then it just goes off, why don’t all casters do that, instead of going through all the gestures and carrying around all these hindering pouches full of components? It doesn’t make sense.” Tartum said.
“Good question. The thing about scrolls is that alot of casters do use them. Usually just for spells that require alot of cumbersome components like lead or steel. However, all the scroll really does is hold the words and the spell components. You still need to supply the magic and perform the gestures, required. Also, if something goes wrong when you recite the spell, while using the scroll, the results will be catastrophic. It could cause anything from a small explosion, to total burn out.” Isidor paused here to let that last part sink in. Tartum had to know this was serious and should be treated as such. Seeing the sick look in his eyes, Isidor nodded and continued.
“Also, scrolls may not be as cumbersome as multiple pouches of components, but they are still unwieldly, and if you have too many of them, you can become overwhelmed at trying to find the one you’re looking for. Also, in a fight for example, how many opponents are going to wait for you to search for the correct scroll you want, unfurl it, and then read from it? Point is, not every situation is fitting for scroll use. They do have their benefits though, and that’s why we use them. You can’t sit down and read my spell book. It wouldn’t open for you, and even if it did, you would have to spend time concentrating your magic into the book, until it deemed you worthy of whatever secrets it contained. If it ever did. Scrolls, on the otherhand, have no such loyalty. Scrolls are a way for a teacher to train his student new spells that he hasn’t figured out yet.” To prove this, Isidor produced a rolled up scroll and handed it to Tartum.
The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 Page 7
