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

out Tartum’s moves, to remain faster than him, to react quicker, to give him the strength he needed to defeat him time and time again. Tartum’s fury at his mentor’s deception knew no bounds! Why hadn’t Isidor told him raw magic could be used like this? Why hadn’t he noticed Isidor was open to the source before?! Most of all, however, he wondered why hadn’t the thought occured to him!? Isidor was using magic in its basic form, to heighten his senses to gain the upper hand! Isidor wasn’t a better fighter than Tartum...he was a SMARTER one!
    All his frustrations at his own stupidity, all his inner turmoil, the treachery, the secret, the pain, the loss after loss...all of the stored up emotions and frustrations of the past years of set backs and failures, gathered in Tartum’s heart and threatened to cause it to explode. Focusing, he forced all the the bitter feelings out of his chest, with the uttering of a single word.
    “ LIGHT! ”blood and spittle flew from his mouth. His throat went raw with the force of which he shouted the word.
    The golden strand on Tartum’s staff sucked the magic out of him so fast, he thought he was going to pass out. The sudden shock, took the fury and the strength from him. If the surprise at the volume of magic the staff was absorbing from him was a shock, the brillance of the light that suddenly flared into Isidor’s eyes was doubly so.
    With a scream of surprise, Isidor fell back covering his eyes. He was in pain and blinded by the sudden flare. Tartum heard his master’s scream and felt his resistance dissappear. His master must have fallen back, and Tartum allowed himself to fall to his knees. He knew it had worked; he could hear his master’s panicked steps shuffling away from him. Quietly, Tartum opened his mouth and uttered the word “ Dark ”. The light from his enchantment went out, and the suction of magic ceased. Tartum opened his eyes. He saw Isidor falling back, trying to hold up his staff defensively with one hand, while trying to wipe the blindness from his eyes. Tartum watched him for a moment, reveling in his vulnerablity. Knowing that his oppurtunity was slowly slipping away, he used his staff to pick himself up and walked, silently, towards his prey.
    Without a word, Tartum summoned every ounce of strength he had left and swung his staff hard, into his master’s gut. With a great, “OOF!” emanating from him, Isidor doubled over from Tartum’s attack and fell to his knees. Tartum took the head of his staff and slammed it into Isidor’s side. He hit him with a vengeance, only years of defeat and treachery, could teach someone. He didn’t want to kill his master, but he wanted to come close.
    Isidor fell to his side, with a thud, and Tartum stood over him. His moment of triumph wasn’t as glorious as he had envisoned it to be, but he still felt pretty good about it. Exhausted, he dropped to a sitting position, looking at his master’s unconscious form. He found himself feeling guilty about hitting him so hard. He had won the moment he hit him in the stomach, why hadn’t he stopped then? He wondered about it for a moment, then pushed the thought away. If Isidor had taught him anything, it was that showing mercy was not what fighting was about.
    “You almost never fight with weapons with the intention to maim or wound. You fight to kill. Those that fight for any other reason usually end up dead.” Isidor had told him. Fighting wasn’t glorious or romantic; it was an act, designed to take the life from someone or something, and Tartum had just mastered it. Taking pride in his prowess, and patting himself on the back for executing his plan so well, Tartum relived the battle in his head. He focused, in particular, on the revelation of his master’s source of skill. Opening himself up to magic, to heighten he senses and abilities during a fight, had been brilliant! The only way an opponent would know, would be if they too were channeling magic. The trick