Chapter 19: Chapter 16: The BATFE would have a field day with this witch

 

              This morning breakfast seemed relaxed, compared to the tumult of emotions that occurred the past several days. Several days ago I was going through the emotional roller coaster of falling through the gaps of reality in my old world and into this new world, and the less said about the awkwardness of breakfast yesterday, the better. Really, what was up with that noble girl?

 

              That being said, I shouldn’t grow to relaxed. Complacency kills. At least that’s what I’ve been told. I can only imagine the multitude of problems that could occur if I become overly set in my ways, too relaxed with living in a sedate house in the woods. As the past few days have shown, this world is dangerous. On top of that, I can only imagine that magic training will also be dangerous. I mean, there’s all those poisonous plants in the front garden, and Mary’s own experiments were dangerous enough to be used as a weapon.

 

              Really, I should be keeping my head on a swivel. Almost dying the other day facing off against bandits should have driven that point home. Actually, seeing that dire wolf and the will o’ the wisps the first day should have made it clear that this world has things just waiting to kill me lurking behind every tree. And with how little I know about this world I’m practically defenseless when it comes to facing off against them.

 

 

 

              The concept of Cooper’s Color Codes comes to mind. Col. Jeff Cooper may have had some outdated ideas, may not have had a degree in psychology, and is at least somewhat derided by some try-hards for advocating for handguns in a proper caliber rather than wonder 9’s. But even so I feel there is some validity to his appreciation for the 1911, and for his color codes for situational awareness. On the topic of mental preparedness, the color codes alone are far better than the garbage put out by Lt.Col. Grossman. On Killing is so poorly put together that it makes the weird furry kids book he just wrote seem tolerable.

 

              The five colors, white, yellow, orange, red, and black, pretty much are associated with various states of mental awareness. White, unaware and unprepared, is what you’d expect from the average person walking down the street, or someone sleeping/just waking up/etc.. I usually tend to be more aware than this since like, I went to school in the city and really didn’t want to get caught off-guard by a mugger or the ever present danger of traffic. It’d be pretty bad if I spaced out completely and got run over from ignoring a signal at a crosswalk. So relaxed alert would be the state I would normally shoot for.

             

              Even so, I really need to be more aware of my surroundings considering how much more dangerous this world is. The key thing behind it is being mentally prepared for the possibility of shit hitting the fan. It’s a progression of awareness from relaxed and aware, to alert to a specific potential threat with orange, and actively engaging with red. By staying alert I can avoid getting caught off-guard and panicking, or in the color code, black. Because if that happened…

 

Bam

 

“Eep!”

 

“Could you at least try to pay attention when I’m trying to talk with you? I know you’re a bit older than the average apprentice but at least some acknowledgment would be nice.”

 

“Aye ma’am.”

 

“What?”

 

“N-nevermind.”

 

“Anyways, have you finished your tea?”

 

“Not yet”

 

“Meet me out back when you’re finished then.”

 

“What are we doing there?”

 

“Your first lesson, of course. I’ll be in the larger outbuilding.”

 

---

 

 

              I let out a sigh. As excited as I am to learn magic, at the end of the day I’m not really a morning person. It’d usually take me a good hour sitting with my coffee in the morning to achieve anything even remotely resembling “functioning.”

 

              Swallowing down my tea, I made my way out the back door, strapping on my sword as I went. From what I saw yesterday most the bandits in the area met a violent end to Mary’s home defense system, but it really can’t hurt to be careful.

 

              Out the back door there was a flagstone patio, surrounded in rose bushes that have long since lost their leaves before winter. Some of the vines show signs of being cultivated for more than just ornamental purposes, which only makes sense given roses history as a medicinal and food plant, but that just adds to the charm of them in my mind. I imagine in the spring this place would be absolutely breathtaking, a perfect spot to sit in the morning with a cup of coffee.

 

              Even the sight of several outbuildings didn’t take away from the charm. There really is a lot to be said about a proper timber-framed building. One of the larger of the buildings, one with several chimneys, has its large front door open. I guess that’s the one Mary mentioned.

 

              “Come to think of it, didn’t you say the other day you’d give me a week off before starting lessons?” I inquire as I step through the doorway. On one side of the building is several copper stills of varying sizes. It makes sense she would have a few, as extracting essences from plants seems like a witch-like thing to do, but the big pot still at the end wouldn’t look out of place deep in the backwoods of Appalachia. Which, come to think of it, describes my current location perfectly. Going so deep into the Appalachians I came out in another world.

 

              Knowing Mary’s personality at this point, odds are she actually does a fair bit of moonshining. I just can’t imagine her willingly paying a liquor tax. But what the hell do I know, maybe in this world they don’t have taxes on liquor.

 

“That was before you drank half my beer in the three days you’ve been here” Mary replied.  “Come over here.”  She gestured over to the other side of the room, with a contraption with several large kettles with pipes running between them.

 

“Your first lesson is right here.” She said, while handing me a sack. While I could guess what was in it based on the surrounding equipment, I opened it just to check.

“Wait, did you even roast this? Actually, I don’t think this is even malted…How do you expect to make beer out of this?”

 

“Thanks to some one getting distracted at the tailors I forgot to pick up malted barley when we were in town. But it’s a great learning opportunity for you?”

 

“How?”

 

“What kind of witch can’t manipulate plants? Causing seeds to start to germinate seems like a perfect first lesson.”

 

“Like, just abracadabra them into beer?”

 

“It’s not that simple. Didn’t you use magic the other day though? That should make it easier now.”

 

“If you say so. You know magic wasn’t really a thing in my world.”

 

“You mean it wasn’t a well-known thing in your world, but that’s beside the point. You remember the general feeling you had when you used it against that bandit?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Identify that feeling within you, it should be sort of a warmth behind your navel. Now imagine that force flowing up, through your hand, and into the grains. Not too much of it, mind you, it doesn’t take that much energy since the seeds already have the ability to grow. Too much would cause all sorts of problems honestly. Then, while doing this, imagine that energy pushing the seeds to germinate.”

 

“That sounded pretty magic-y ‘till the last part.” Still, as her apprentice I guess I’m obligated to give it a try. The warm feeling is surprisingly easy to find now that I’m aware what it is. In retrospect it’s more like gaining a weird awareness of a limb that’s always been there, or when you get so focused when shooting you become aware of and can control your heartbeat. That’s something everyone has experienced, right?

 

“You’re the one who said she studied biology in school, so you probably have a much better mental image of the process than I could describe.”

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“Undergrad bio really spent more time discussing s cerevisiae.” And Drosophila, though I always preferred microbiology.

 

“Ooh, perfect! We’ll need some brewing yeast later, I knew I forgot to pick up something in town. Now stop pouring mana into the barley, it’s malted enough already. Give it here, I’ll do the next step” I’ll just take her word on it. I handed the sack over.

 

“So, a bit of heat to stop germination, and on to the roasting. Now, let’s go for a nice nutty brown ale. We’ll need a somewhat paler roast for some, and a bit darker for the others to add that depth of flavor and…”

 

“Is this really the right way to be brewing beer?”

 

“Don’t distract me, I almost have the spell done, and…roast.”

 

The sack burst into flames in her hands. While certainly looking impressive, her jump back in surprise is concerning. Luckily the flames quickly disappeared, and before the grains could hit the ground they began to levitate.

 

“That was my first time trying this, to be honest. It seems to have worked. Now…crush.” The grains seemed to be milled now. ”And into the mash ton you go.” And a splash as the grains flew into the first of the kettles.

 

“Wait!”

“What?”

 

“You need to bring the water up to the right temperature first!”

 

“What do you think I was doing while waiting for you?”

 

“Oh…so, I guess now we wait?” While everyone’s familiar with letting beer sit and ferment, most people don’t actually consider which part of the grain is fermenting. An important first step of the process is letting the malted grains steep first so the starches can be broken down into sugars, which are then eaten by the yeast to create alcohol and carbonation.

 

“Why would we wait? You’re up again.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“You did well with germinating the seeds, but I really don’t feel like waiting around all day. So, imagine something similar to before, but rather than seeds germinating and beginning to grow, imagine the α and β amylase breaking down the starches!”

 

“How do you know the names of the starch enzymes?”

 

“…I really like beer.”

 

“…”

 

“For some reason it never occurred to me that I could save time making beer by using magic until now. And I even have an apprentice with the right background to understand my instructions!”

 

“…”

 

“So, are you going to do it?”

 

“Fine.” I followed her instructions. Unlike last time where she told me to stop without me even noticing any sort of effect, a sweet smell began to emanate from the mash tun, the container used for steeping the grains to extract the sugars.

 

“And time for mash out.” She snapped her fingers. Nothing visible happened, but the sound of wort flowing from one kettle to another could be heard. “Now, to start sparging” Snapping her fingers again, a fire started underneath another of the kettles.

 

“If you knew we were going to take a shortcut on mashing, shouldn’t you have started that sooner?”

 

“It’s fine, we can get is boiling in no time.”

 

“How?”

 

“You know how you poured mana into the amylase enzymes to break down the starch faster? Now, do the same thing, with the energy flowing out, into the water molecules, increasing the amount of energy and breaking down the molecular forces between the molecules. Make sure it’s just enough energy to cause the start of a phase change, we don’t want the whole pot evaporating.”

 

“…”

 

“What?”

 

“This doesn’t feel magical at all.” But as her apprentice, I guess I’m obligated to comply.

 

“Did you think it would be all ‘love and justice’ and weird animals trying to get you to sell your soul for a wish? Being in touch with the natural world and using magic to feel the ebb and flow of mana and other energies throughout nature is an important part of magic for a witch.”

 

“Hydrogen bonding doesn’t feel magical!”

 

“Of course it is!” She argued, while working. She had already transferred the wort, the sugar water that will eventually become beer, to a third kettle at the end. Snapping her fingers, yet another fire appeared beneath this one. “Do you think you could get the wort up to a boil again? Thanks” She tossed in one of several small baskets full of hops once my magic brought it to a boil and, without even bothering to explain, turned and went down a staircase in the back of the room. She returned with two corked bottles.

 

“Might as well sample one of the previous batches while we wait.” She explained.

 

“We just ate breakfast.” I protested. Kinda. Seeing how she actually approached brewing was the equivalent of learning how sausage is made, but as I learned over the past several days it’s really hard to argue with her results. I took my time enjoy it, and by the time I reached the bottom of my bottle she had already added the second batch of hops to the kettle.

 

“I’ve already cooled the wort, so do you think you could gather the yeast for the fermentation? It’s the same technique as before, but try visualizing the energy gathering the airborne yeast into the liquor. Make sure to remember we’re brewing a brown ale so the yeast you’re visualizing shouldn’t release any esters or anything else, and should have a high flocculation. And don’t forget to visualize a medium tolerance to alcohol levels so that…”

 

              When I became her apprentice I’d imagined I’d get to learn about some sort of witches brew, but this really is too much.

 

 

 

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