I woke up with a pounding headache. I guess I really went at it too hard last night when I was out with Jess and Anna, and it’s always unpleasant to be reminded that I’m not as young as I used to be. I don’t even remember going to the bar with them yesterday. That’s when I realized the room I was in looked nothing like the motel room I had gotten for my mini-vacation. The previous day's events came rushing back to me. It really didn’t help with my headache.

The room, while nicer than what I’d expect from my first impression of Mary, had the sort of hand-crafted feel not common in modern structures. I had the impression that if I could see the beams holding up the floorboard the toolmarks would be easily visible. But the hardwood floor had a warm feel to it, and a heavy braided rug covered the space between the bed and the door. Several shelves, empty, lined one of the walls, and a closet was opposite of it to the right of the bed.

Thankfully a pitcher of water was left on the nightstand, along with a packet of herbs resting on top a note saying “take these with water.” Good thing it didn’t just say “drink me” or else I’d be afraid of shrinking. That’s a bit rude of me though, I don’t think she would do such a thing. Although, what do a really know about her?

Taking the herbs, I chased them with a glass of water and my hangover disappeared in an instant. It was like magic. Well, to be honest “like” might be understating things, but it could just be an effective, non-magical medicine. After clearing my mind with another glass of water, I think back on yesterday.

I really had just gone with the flow when I agreed to be her apprentice. I was already shocked halfway out of my mind, and probably would have gone along with it if she had offered to teach me how to start a comedy duo. And God knows that wouldn’t work out. She seemed a bit too eccentric to be the straight man in the group, and I don’t like the thought of trying to grow into the Costello or Hardy of the pair of us.

But that’s getting off-topic. She said she would teach me magic! I’ve always liked learning, and learning magic is something I would have though would be impossible, especially before yesterday. Glossing over the weird stuff she had said yesterday, magic was purely the realm of myth and fantasy. To be able to actually learn it…well, it’s not like there wasn’t a price.

Quite frankly this kind of sucks. I’ve been torn away from my friends and family, and I wasn’t even able to finish that latest outfit I had wanted to make. I can’t say I’m not a bit devastated about having everything I had worked for ripped away like that.

It’s probably for the best to push that down for the time being, if I really think about it. If what she said yesterday was right, then there isn’t a way for me to return to the world I came from. It’s really a shame, but looking forward is the best I can do right now. And honestly, things were starting to get pretty stressful in my past world too, considering the angry letters from the IRS and the thought of trying to find a job with a Master's in History of all things. I guess in a way I dodged a bullet.

It was at his moment that I noticed the smell of bacon rising up through the floorboards. Curious, I started to head towards the door until I realized I was still not dressed. Rather, I was wearing a shift. I guess Mary was able to lend me something to sleep in. Thankfully I had remembered to ask last night. I think. Praying that I had managed to get to bed last night, I opened the closet to see if my clothes were there.

Instead of my familiar jeans, the closet had a collection of what looked like a weird mix of historical clothing and cosplay. I guess with the rather old-fashioned shift, it makes sense that the other clothing would be similar design-wise. I select a green skirt, and a plain white blouse.

Digging through the closet I manage to find a pair of brown wool stockings. Without elastic, apparently, but there are some sets of braided garters as well. If I hadn’t been such a history nerd it would have taken me forever to figure out how to get dressed. Even then, I wasn’t able to find any stays, but luckily my underwear from yesterday had found its way into the closet.

Dressed, I exited into a hallway. Several doors lined it, and at the end of the corridor was a staircase, following the staircase down, the scent of cooking bacon led me through a door immediately to the left.

“Hey you, you’re finally awake?” Mary asked. “You did a number on my beer stash last night, but considering what you’d been through I won’t get too mad.”

Ugh. Based off how my head felt earlier she was telling the truth. I should probably apologize, but she did say she would consider the circumstances. Plus, I’m apparently now her apprentice, so that should give me some rights to her liquor cabinet. Right?

“Uhm, about yesterday…” I began to say.

“Nevermind that, it can wait. Breakfast is ready, and it’s hard to do any serious work on an empty stomach.”

Normally I would disagree with her, but the smell of the bacon was all that she needed to drive her point home. They weren’t the skimpy cheapo grocery store slices either. Thickly sliced bacon, with a slight hint of apple, like you would find from a premium butcher, with bread and butter on the side. The only thing that would have made this perfect would have been a hot, steaming cup of coffee. Unfortunately, all I could see was a pot of black tea.

Beggars can’t be choosers, but I will freak if this ends up being a world without coffee. For now I’ll just appreciate what I have. I dug in.

The food thankfully was just as good as it looked and smelled and no time at all I had polished it off. Even the tea had a heavier, almost malty taste to it, and she had to brew another pot while we were eating. If this was the standard for food everyday than I would have to hope that the work she required as an apprentice was enough to make up for all the extra calories. Seriously, even the bread and butter alone put a full-course breakfast anywhere else to shame.

After breakfast Mary directed me to clear the table and wash the dishes. I had taken her for the kind of person to procrastinate on daily life tasks, but she seemed fastidious about getting the kitchen squared away after the meal. I vaguely suspected this may have been an attempt to save face in front of me, but I chose to give her the benefit of the doubt. Afterwards she prepared another pot of tea, and had me sit down at the kitchen table across from her.

“So, as you said last night, you have agreed to become my apprentice, right? You do realize that’s a verbal contract. You can’t go back on it!”

` I should be a bit concerned about her emphasis on that. I knew enough from fairy tales that supernatural creatures tend to take peoples word literally, even worse than the most hardened of contract attorneys. Did I get myself into something somehow deeper than “just” being a witch's apprentice? This seems a bit sketchy…

“Nonononono!” Mary exclaimed apologetically, “Don’t get the wrong idea! I’m human enough, not some fae obsessed with contracts.” although she did seem pretty fixated on it a bit earlier. “I just wanted to establish that. I really wanted an apprentice and wanted to make sure you remembered you agreed to it. Especially since you might have forgotten about what you said.”

“I didn’t drink that much.”

“Just making sure. You really did a number on my keg. I might need to go into town to buy more malted barley, especially if that’s how much you usually drink.” I started to feel like she was putting me on the spot. “So anyways, you’re officially my apprentice.”

“Is there any sort of ceremony?”

“Just stating it is enough. Every world craves order, and in this one just an acknowledgment of your role is enough to make it official. People can lie, but for serious lies there’s usually a price.”

“So, is there a specific curriculum that you need me to go through? Do you have a set course list and required reading?” Currently being in grad school, well, having up until recently been an academic, the concept of studying was nothing new to me. Apprenticeship was a concept I had gotten familiar with through studying history and trade, but I’ll be honest when I say that I have no idea how it would apply to the study of witchcraft.

“Nothing like that for now. It will take a while, although you’ll have more than enough of it

“Right there, that ‘more than enough time’ bit. What do you even mean by that?”

“Well, you don’t think you become a witch overnight, do you? It takes decades of study to master any sort of trade, and that includes witchcraft. Don’t worry though. Even a witch's apprentice ages slower than normal, just by virtue of being exposed to high levels of magic and all sorts of healthy healing herbs.”

“Those herbs outside your cottage don’t look so healthy…”

“Shut it,” she retorted. “It applies for everyone in this job, although admittedly I’m younger than most witches. You lucked out, having a childhood prodigy like me teaching you!”

At least she seemed confident. I guess all I can do is pray I was in as good of hands as she was saying I was. She did seem young, relatively speaking, but I’ll give her credit for giving off the “eccentric genius” vibe.

“So do we start learning right away?”

“It’d be unreasonable of me to expect you to go right into your position as an apprentice. You just got here yesterday! Being the kind and generous Master Witch that I am, I’ll give you a week to acclimate to this world.”

More than reasonable. I was taking this far better than most people would, being unwillingly dragged away from all my hobbies and loved ones. Well, liked ones. Grad students don’t really have many opportunities for dating. At least, I didn’t have any opportunities for dating. It never seemed like anyone was paying attention to me in that manner, and usually people eventually decided it was better to leave me alone after the fourth or fifth time that I would insist that they read my theories on historical events. They were popular among a niche group of individuals, but most people seemed more interested in God knows what.

In the past I briefly wondered if it was my fault that no one showed interest in me, but after a few times where guys walked away from my riveting hip-pocket lectures on the development of the flintlock I figured that it was them that were the problem. I wasn’t clueless like Mary here seemed to be, and I had at least some self-awareness that people might not be interested in more esoteric knowledge, but that was…

“Rose!”

“Huh, what?”

“Pay some attention! Was there anything you needed to do before we go?”

“Go where?”

“I just told you, to town! We need to get you used to living here, especially if you’re to run errands as my apprentice.”

It’s time to start getting used to living in a fantasy world other than my own mind.