Chapter 20: Chapter 17: You know she probably can’t be trusted with gunpowder

              

 

                As the next couple weeks passed, I began to fall into a rhythm in my life living with Mary. Waking up, performing chores in the morning, studying magic in the afternoon, and reading from her library in the evening. Compared to the tension of my first few days it was a cakewalk, if you ignored her less than professional approach to teaching, and the occasional catastrophic results from her experiments.

 

              It’s probably for the best that the main “laboratory” she has, for lack of a better term, is in one of the outbuildings. I can’t imagine what it’d be like if there were explosions constantly going off in the house when I’m trying to read, or concentrate on one task or another that Mary’s assigned to me.

 

              The actual magic lessons have been rather simple so far. When she blindsided me with what was practically a microbiology lesson the other day, I had assumed the rest of the lessons would be just as fast paced, but since then they’ve been anything but. She set me to interacting with the plants in her garden and greenhouse, feeling the flow of energy through them and at times adding to it with my own power.

 

              I’m tempted to call it similar to meditating, but when you really get down to it my day to day training was exactly that. I had been used to the fast pace of school in my old world, rushing to classes, rushing to get assignments completed, and even rushing to work on my hobbies. Taking time to actually stay still, and focus on one thing was a 360 from my previous life, and as I became accustomed to it I began to enjoy it.

 

              It oddly enough reminded me of learning marksmanship growing up. Rather than rushing, trying to complete a task like you would do in most other sports, the focus is purely on you, your rifle and the target. Controlling your breath is of the utmost importance and even the beat of your heart becomes important, as a slight twitch can cause a round to deviate from your initial point of aim.

 

              The level of focus you can muster increases as you practice, and someone who puts in their time with training can get to the level where they can consciously lower their own heartbeat, allowing for even finer control when aiming. Eventually you get to the point where you’re familiar with the sensation from how your bones are aligned with each other to how much force is being put into your index finger to pull the trigger. Even the slightest breeze catches your attention, as it causes a slight shift in your position. At the same time the noise of people shooting around you is drowned out as it registers as less important than what’s in front of you.

 

              While channeling mana into plants was not the martial task that marksmanship is, there was still the increasing awareness of the minute sensations in both yourself and your surroundings. Feeling the warmth of the energy, flowing out, through your body and into the surroundings. Manipulating the finest little bits of it to encourage a plant to grow, all while avoiding pouring in too much in a manner that would overtax the soil.

 

              And as this training continued, I gained a more detailed awareness in how this energy permeated my surroundings. It began to become clear to me that my reactions to danger in the past, which had seemed to come from nowhere, were a manifestation of the unconscious awareness of this flow. At least that’s what I think. So for the past couple weeks this had been my primary form of training, with Mary occasionally providing pointers whenever she left her lab. Maybe it was actually the constant explosions that made my training remind me of target shooting?

 

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              One morning, I was sitting finishing up my tea before preparing for another day honing my control of mana by tending to Mary’s potion ingredient garden. I mean, that’s what she calls it, but she hasn’t let me work on the more alarming plants yet. I’ve been working on what I think more of as kitchen staples.

 

              She claims they all have deep magic powers when used in the right potions. This is what she says, but honestly they seem to be more often for dinner. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme for their use in cooking and folk-song writing, but outside of sage they don’t really strike me as magical.

 

              I at least can believe sage has uses in potions. Even in the mundane world I came from it has a long history of being used by cultures all over the world for purification. Going back to Galen, and even further, it was ascribed all manner of medical uses. The scientific name, Salvia officinalis, even refers to it’s use as a common medicinal herb. The fact that it works well for cooking could be said to be a happy accident.

 

              As I was about to leave, Mary called out to me from the front entryway. When I got there she looked at me apologetically.

 

“With all the commotion, it completely slipped my mind, but the clothes we ordered for you from Jeanne should be finished. Do you think you could run into town and pick them up?”

 

“How could you forget something that big?”

 

“You forgot about it too! I’m actually kind of amazed you put up with doing laundry every day.”

 

“So, are we leaving now?” Since the previous incident I haven’t left the house without my sword and the magical bag she gave me, and was set to leave whenever I’d need to.

 

“What do you mean ‘we?’ I have work to do in the forest today. You know the way into town, and you have your ID card from the guild.”

 

“So what are you doing today then?”

 

“Researching a magical compound from your world. I have a fair bit of sulfur already, but the recipe says it needs saltpeter, the purer the better. Around where you first came over there’s some caves with bats, so I was going to check those out.”

 

Oh.

 

             If it wasn’t for the fact she’s already making mercury fulminate this would be much more concerning. But I guess the civilization here already is beyond what Europe was like when gunpowder was invented, so I’m sure it wont be that big of a deal. It’s far safer than her other experiments anyway. There’s nothing at all to be concerned about. Nope.

 

“You know gunpowder isn’t magical…”

 

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“What was that?” She had turned to the closet and was fishing something out. Grabbing a broom and a potion bottle from the back, she handed both to me. “Put those in your bag. Also, take these.” Passing me a piece of paper and a pouch full of what could only be coins.

 

“A magic broom?”

 

“Come on, I explained how that works.”

 

“When?”

 

“We talked about it, before the fi-… oh, I guess it would be hard to remember then. Only use it if you need to escape, the ingredients for that potion are expensive. Just pour the potion on the broom, and it should let you fly away.  Use mana to steer, but you really only need a tiny amount of it. It’s a witch creation, and generally witches tend to be sparse in their mana usage.”

 

“This would have been helpful last time we went to town.”

 

“Don’t be stupid, you’d never even consciously used magic before then.”

 

“And what’s with the list?”

 

“I’d appreciate it if you could see if they got any of those ingredients in at the port. We don’t always get everything in, so you need to keep an eye out for when an ingredient you need does arrive. I’m interested in a few of the plant products that come from the southern continent, so be sure to pick those up if you can. You can spend what’s left on whatever you want.”

 

“Is that okay?”

 

“Of course! You’re my apprentice, so supporting you is part of my duties as your master. Also…” she paused, looking a bit nervous about what she was going to say next. “T-try to avoid dallying around too much around the square in front of the lords manor. Actually, avoid making too much of a fuss with the guards too.”

 

“…is there a specific reason why?”

 

              She turned away, mumbling for a bit about “that annoying girl” and “stay away from her, she’s mine.” I fairly certain she wasn’t aware she was saying these thoughts out loud. It’s probably not worth paying attention to, though. I’m sure it has nothing to do with me. After continuing this for a while, she turned to me, avoiding eye contact.

 

“Taxes!”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m sure the guards haven’t forgotten about trying to collect taxes! I know they won’t bother me over it, but they might assume you’re an easy target. So please be careful when dealing with them. And avoid the lords family too, they might be after the same thing!”

 

“Uhuh… anything else?”

 

“Oh, watch out for the tailors guild. Of course dealing with Jeanne should be okay, but they’ve been oddly persistent about getting information on dye techniques from me. Once they learn you’re from the mundane world they’ll be all over you!”

 

“Good to know. Well, I’m off.”

 

“Good luck. And don’t forget, if you can find plant specimens from the southern continent be sure to grab them!”

 

“Of course.”

 

And now I’m off on my first solo trip since arriving in this world. I really hope that line about guilds wasn’t jinxing anything.