Jack woke to the sound of cockerels crowing. He groaned as he rolled onto his back. To help him sleep on the hard boards, he’d stuffed his blankets under him as padding. “Ow. My poor back.” Young Jack’s body wasn’t used to sleeping on a hard surface.

  At least I didn’t have any nightmares, and this isn’t Tartarus. For the past two decades, he’d suffered from cruel nightmares where his family died at the hands of Baron Greaves.

  He took a moment to close his eyes and prayed to the Gods, “Thank you for another day with my loving family; every day is a gift I do not deserve, thank you.”

  Jack stretched his aching back. “I should have enough time for one more scroll before Mom prepares breakfast.” His mother was always the first to wake; as a cook, she tended to rise early.

  He picked up the ornately decorated wooden case that his father had gifted him and smiled. He planned to use his new pen to create a spell scroll. While the pen was beautiful, it wouldn’t impact the quality of the scroll; the skill of the scribe determined the final product’s quality.

  As he held the silver pen over the blank scroll, he thought about whether to create another [Frost Breath] or [Fireball] scroll. “They’re equally popular.” He rubbed his lower back. “I could do a less popular spell to show the merchants more variety,” he murmured. “Might even be worth more coin.”

  He’d memorised dozens of mage spells in his past life, but most of them lacked a market. Adventurers sought powerful combat spells. Few wanted spell scrolls for detecting undead or for masking smells. Having only sold spell scrolls to one source in his past life, he wasn’t sure what was expected of a supplier in Lundun.

  “Maybe an earth spell.” He knew half a dozen earth mage spells. “[Solid Ground] is a good one for the swamp floor. That might have a market here.”

  The second floor of a nearby dungeon was all swamp and lacked any dry ground. The lack of dry, hard ground made setting up camp on that floor a problem for adventuring parties who lacked a mage with earth magic spells.

  He read the spell text for [Solid Ground] aloud before beginning. “By the steadfast earth beneath our feet, let the trembling soil heed my call, rise and harden! Solid Ground!”

  Jack spent the next forty-five minutes penning a [Solid Ground] spell onto the scroll with his new pen. As he finished the last rune, he heard his mother preparing breakfast in the kitchen. “Perfect timing.” His stomach grumbled in agreement.

  After a quick visit to the bathroom, Jack greeted his mother in the kitchen, where the aroma of bacon and eggs filled the air. “Morning, Mom. That smells delicious.”

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  “Good morning, Jack.” His mother glanced at him as she flipped the bacon. “You’re up early. Are you feeling alright?”

  Typically, he wouldn’t wake up for another hour. He smiled. “Had difficulty sleeping on the hard boards.” He made an exaggerated stretch. “Sore back.”

  “Hmm.” His mom looked concerned, but for once didn’t provide an example of a distant relative going to sleep on a hard bed and dying. “Your mattress will be dry in a day or two.”

  “You know.” Jack grinned. “It would be karma to give me Polly’s mattress and have her sleep on a hard surface for a few nights.” He’d not even thought of this option in his past life.

  His mother looked at him in surprise. “You’d make your younger sister, a delicate young lady, sleep without a mattress?” She shook her head and frowned.

  Annoyed, he wanted to say, Delicate lady! She’s about as delicate as a brick through a window. She’s the idiot who wet all my stuff and threw my books on the floor. Polly deserves it, and the spider eggs. The miscreant has no respect for books and needs to be taught a lesson. Instead, all that emerged was a quiet, “I suppose not.”

  His mom smiled. “That’s a good boy. You don’t treat girls that way. You protect and cherish them.” She went back to preparing breakfast for her husband, who they both heard exiting the bathroom.

  Jack slumped at the table. He’d have to get his revenge via hundreds of baby spiders.

  “Give me five minutes, and I’ll fry up a lovely breakfast for you, Jack.” His mother filled a plate with bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes and toast for his father.

  “Thanks, Mom, you’re the best.” He drooled at the smell as his father entered the kitchen.

  “You’re up early,” his dad said to Jack while kissing his wife on the cheek. “Everything alright, Son?”

  Jack smiled as he watched his father sit at the table with a large breakfast in front of him. By the Gods, I’ve missed my family so much.

  After his family died, he never experienced anything close to a warm family breakfast again. He’d shared breakfast with many people, usually in taverns, but it never felt like this. It never felt like home.

  How could I have taken all of this for granted when I was young? I was such a fool! He felt blessed to be alive. He offered another small prayer of thanks to the Gods.

  His mother answered for him, “Bad night’s sleep. He’s a little soft and can’t handle the lack of a comfy mattress.” She went back to cooking. “You want the same as your dad?”

  Jack nodded. “Yes, please; smells heavenly.”

  His dad snorted as he took the first forkful of food. “That it does, Son. That it does.” He smiled. “Tastes great as well. A meal fit for the Gods.”

  Jack laughed while drooling.

  “Did I ever tell you about the time I spent with the army?” His dad had stopped eating.

  He knew the story, but he shook his head anyway, wanting to hear it again.

  “I was a new Apprentice Scribe at the time. Barely twenty-one, and way before I joined the Royal Library. Spent most of my time making spell scrolls to support the army’s non-mages.” His father gesticulated with his fork. “Those scrolls saved many a Merciaran’s life on the frontlines. You don’t have to be a flashy mage or warrior to make a difference, Son. Scribes are important.” He cut up a piece of bacon and dipped it in egg yolk. “Anyway. I spent six months sleeping on a roll on the hard ground.” He smiled as if being uncomfortable was a good memory. “A few days without a mattress will do you good, Jack. You never know when the King might call up some Apprentice Scribes to support the army.” He went back to his breakfast.

  Jack smiled. His father had told him about his time in the army many times. His dad was proud of serving in the Kingdom’s army.