E.M. Dash Web Novels
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Chapter 048 The Pocket Mage
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 21:00:05 +0000 UTCDay 6. Tuesday 10:00am.
After leaving the tailor’s, Jack made his way to Harker and Barker to collect his reserved chronos sphere spell scroll and replace the fireball scroll he’d used.
Jack entered the spell scroll shop to the familiar chime of the bell and the smile of the old shopkeeper. A handful of customers perused the displays.
He took a deep breath. Hmm… that smell never gets old.
“Good morning, young man,” the old shopkeeper greeted him.
“Morning,” Jack replied, stepping to the counter. “I’m here to drop off a few scrolls and collect the chronos sphere scroll… if it’s ready?”
The shopkeeper nodded. “Indeed. One imbued chronos sphere spell scroll, prepaid.” He produced the scroll from beneath the counter and handed it to Jack.
“Thank you.” Jack pulled out the half a dozen unimbued chronos sphere spell scrolls he’d created since his last visit.
“Excellent,” the shopkeeper said, inspecting the scrolls. “These sell so darn fast. After you left yesterday, we had an order for a dozen that we are struggling to fill.” He tapped a finger on the scrolls. “These are much needed.”
“I’m glad to help,” Jack replied, imagining the coin he could earn if he devoted all his time to inscribing those scrolls. With the right pace, he might produce ten a day, or even fifteen, earning 70 silvers to 1 gold and 5 silvers each day. He shook his head. No, I have to prepare to kill Greaves; only then can I worry about coin.
The old man cleared his throat. “That’s six unimbued chronos sphere spell scrolls for a total of 42 silvers.” He slid the scrolls under the counter.
“I’ll be buying a few things,” Jack said as he saw the shopkeeper counting out 42 silvers. “So hold the coin for now.”
The old man nodded, and Jack went to collect some supplies.
A burly young warrior at the next display called to the shopkeeper, “Hey, old man, any discounts for buyin’ in bulk?”
Jack glanced at him, Hmm… another warrior. Many men became warriors; it was an easy combat class to both qualify for and level. Making it a popular choice.
“It depends,” the shopkeeper replied. “What do you consider a bulk purchase?”
“Erm… five of ‘em,” the warrior pointed towards a display of fireball spell scrolls.
“Then no,” the old man replied. “Small discounts are available for orders of above two dozen of the same type of spell scroll.”
The warrior groaned.
After a minute, Jack returned with two fireball scrolls, two frost breath scrolls, two cleansing scrolls, and 50 medium-quality blank scrolls.
The old shopkeeper smiled as he totalled Jack’s bill. “Including the 42 silvers from the chronos sphere scrolls and the 10% discount, that will be… 3 silvers 90 coppers, young man.”
Jack already had the 3 silvers and 90 coppers ready.
The old man chuckled. “Good to see our young people being capable of simple calculations without those new calculating engines.” He took the coin. “I tell you, it’s going to sap the Kingdom’s wit, mark my words.” He shook his head in disapproval. “What are they going to do when they don’t have access to one of those huge devices? Fail. That’s what.”
Jack smiled and nodded in agreement as he packed away his new scrolls and supplies. His father had made a similar argument when teaching him how to quickly calculate prices in his head.
“Anything else?” the old shopkeeper inquired.
Jack shook his head. “No, that’s everything, thanks.”
He left the shop thinking about money. After his purchase, he was left with just over 2 gold in coin. He’d had a small windfall when he looted the swordsman’s purse. Looting the corpses of dead adventurers is quite lucrative, he thought. Shame I couldn’t take his greatsword right away, I bet it’s worth a couple of gold. He still planned to collect the sword at a later date.
***
After heading home, Jack sat in the kitchen with his mom, Zia, and the baby. His mom had just asked how the suit fitting had gone.
“Good, Mom,” Jack said as he sampled one of Zia’s latest creations. It was a buttermilk biscuit shaped like a strange, stubby tree. “Great biscuit, Zia. Love the tree shape.” He took another bite, smiling.
Zia offered a shy smile and nibbled at her own biscuit, which looked more like a fat-bottomed duck.
Jack continued, “The suit’s dark grey, like Dad’s. I can collect it tomorrow.”
His mom beamed. “I can’t wait to see the two most handsome men in my life standing side by side in matching suits.”
He flushed at the memory of his mom once insisting he and his father stand back-to-back before they’d gone to the Royal Library together for the first time. At the time, she’d said, “You look like a pair of handsome detectives from the cover of one of my books.” She’d been deep into detective novels then. He had felt like a complete idiot that day, complaining that he looked ridiculous. His dad had just smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and said, “It’s what we do for love, Son. You’ll understand one day.”
Jack swallowed hard. He’d never got the chance to understand. Baron Greaves had made sure of that. His eyes widened in panic as a new thought hit him. By the Gods, she’s going to make us do it again!
“Are you alright, Jack?” his mom asked.
He nodded. “Just… a bit nervous about my first day at work, that’s all.” He forced a smile. And the fact you’re going to make me look like a fool again!
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Son. Your dad will be there, remember.”
Jack covered her hand with his own. It felt like home. “Thanks, Mom.”
Though they weren’t hugging, Zia saw the opening and darted in to steal a hug from both of them, squeezing in with a grin.
After enjoying a few more misshapen biscuits, Jack headed up to his room to work. He completed one chronos sphere spell scroll, then paused, remembering his archery exercise programme.
Jack groaned as he forced himself through a few minutes of ‘gruelling’ planking exercises. “Whoever invented planking is an evil, sick, sadistic monster,” he grumbled, collapsing onto his bed. “There must be easier ways to exercise core muscles…”
After a brief rest, he inscribed another scroll before heading downstairs to bother his mom for some food. Afterwards, he prepared to go to the Adventurers Guild for archery training.
Jack was already dressed, dagger at his side, bow and quiver over his shoulders, pack in his left hand. As he went to exit the room, he paused. I don’t have easy access to my spell scrolls.
The memory of Greaves pinning him to a wall with spell scrolls stored in his pack out of reach, while the noble killed him. And the fight with the swordsman, of him fumbling through his pack at the back of Ron’s Diner to retrieve a fireball spell scroll, weighed on his mind.
He was worried about running into the four remaining adventurers and was trying to figure out how to carry spell scrolls for quick access. Reaching into his pack required time he might not have if things went wrong. He needed a better way to store and access spell scrolls.
“Could I store a couple of scrolls up my sleeves?” he wondered aloud, frowning. Dropping his pack onto the floor, he muttered, “Hmm… scrolls don’t have to be unfurled to activate. I could have a few up my sleeves and just… point and shoot.”
He grabbed a blank scroll from his desk, rolled it tight, and stuffed it up his sleeve. Pressing his index finger to it, he whispered, “Fireball.” He winced. “Not very comfortable… or practical.” He tugged the scroll back out. “They’d get damp with sweat in no time.”
He snorted, imagining himself pointing both arms forward and shouting, “Fireball! Fireball! Fireball…” A stream of fireballs would blast from his palms like some badass Master Fire Mage.
“I wish,” he whispered, scoffing at the idea. “I might lose control of the direction, though…” He knew scrolls didn’t have to be held in the hand casting the spell. Ideally, you’d hold the scroll in your left hand, point your right palm at the target, and cast. The spell would fire from the palm, guided by intent.
Intent was everything when activating spell scrolls. Saying the spell’s name wasn’t enough. This safety feature was encoded into the runes to prevent accidental activation. One couldn’t have a shopkeeper handle a scroll while chatting and unleash a blizzard or a firestorm by mistake.
With practice, a skilled user could touch a scroll with any body part and direct the spell to fire from a finger, an elbow. Rumour had it, even an eye. Jack wasn’t ready to experiment with anything beyond his palms.
“If only I could devise a simple holder…” He imagined thin leather wristbands with small tubes for scrolls, each spell ready to flick into his hand. “I could carry three or four scrolls on each wrist…”
He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m overthinking this.” They didn’t need to be on his wrist; he just needed fast, easy access for emergencies. Plus, if he did design a wrist holder, they’d get in the way of his arm guards.
His gaze fell on one of his small notebooks on the desk. That would fit in his jacket’s breast pocket…
Grabbing a blank scroll, he folded it, slipping it into his breast pocket so a little peeked out like a handkerchief. Testing the reach, he touched the exposed edge with one hand and whispered, “Frost breath,” while pointing his other palm at the wall clock. He’d decided to make frost breath his go-to scroll, hoping to minimise the risk of triggering more fire-related flashbacks.
After a dozen tries, he was confident he could activate a scroll from his pocket using either hand. “That should work,” he murmured, folding his three frost breath scrolls and stacking them into his pocket.
Jack glanced at the two fireball scrolls. “Hmm… I should add the fireballs at the back?” He thought about the flashback while fighting the swordsman. I’ll never use three frost breath scrolls at a time… I’ll be fine… He shook his head. “No. Better to be overprepared and not use them than to die with regrets.” He’d already made that mistake when attempting to assassinate Greaves.
Moments later, he had two fireballs and three frost breath scrolls ready to activate in his pocket. He patted his breast pocket and grinned. “Five combat spells, all within easy reach.” The cleaning spell scrolls were stored in his pack.
Feeling a renewed sense of preparedness, Jack grabbed his pack, adjusted his bow and quiver, and headed out. He was ready to face another archery session at the Adventurers Guild.
Comments
ReaderofMany
Well, now who knows what kind of situations he’ll get up to that require rapidly deployed cleaning solutions!
