I woke up the next morning feeling drowsy. Sleep had not come easy to me last night. Not for the reasons one might suspect. Yes, there was plenty of concerning events yesterday, the stalkerish lord’s daughter and the whole “attempted assassination from a trade guild” being chief among them. Anyone would lose sleep over the thought of a bunch of tailors with a puffed up sense of importance going after her life, even more so for such a stupid reason as knowing how to make garments fit well.

Excuse me, but I’m still kind of pissed about that. This is a fantasy world. Full of magic, and weird creatures that would at best be considered cryptids and at worst be considered the fodder of spooky Appalachian campfire stories in my home world. There are bandits, political court intrigue, and at least one mysterious magician going after my master’s life, if I’ve read into past events correctly.

Air-headed I may be at times, but I have reasonable confidence in my ability to analyze facts in cases like these. This is a world full of adventure and mystery. And out of all of that, the Tailor’s Guild goes after me. It’d be like if Steven King had written a book and made the villain...Scratch that, he wrote some pretty stupid stuff while coked out of his mind. It’d be like if Tom Clancy had written a book and made the enemy a bunch of hippies rather than a major nation-state. Wait, that’s literally the plot for Rainbow Six. Failed analogies aside, you get what I mean, right?

While I’m seething about it now, I didn’t lose any sleep over that. And my poor night’s rest wasn’t due to a certain someone who I’m starting to suspect has a less than healthy interest in me either. For some reason I have a tendency to attract weirdos, but outright stalkers? Well, actually… no, that’s in the past, in a different world. It’s something I’ll never have to worry about again. Why are all these nutjobs attracted to someone relatively normal like me anyways?

But even that wasn’t enough to drive me to sleeplessness this time. All things considered I was in an excellent mood. I got new clothes yesterday, and most importantly of all, I got coffee. With all that excitement it’s no wonder I was sleepless. And all that caffeine. I must have had a whole pot of coffee all just to myself.

So reaping the results of my late-night coffee binge, I managed to groggily roll out of bed. As much as I wanted to just curl up and go back to sleep I have things to do today, the first which is waiting for me in the kitchen.

Breakfast was already waiting for me when I got there. Despite my role as “apprentice witch” I sure seemed to be living the easy life, all things considered. Mary insisted on cooking breakfast. I tried, at first, to help, but she always insisted on cooking despite my protests, saying “I like seeing you enjoy my food.”

It seemed kind of odd at first that she was so set on this, but I at least was able to rule out the Hansel and Gretel treatment my mind initially jumped to. Not to brag, but I’m fairly confident in my analytical skills, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t intend to eat me, not after all she’s done for me. That aside, there is something I can do for breakfast.

Thankfully the kettle was already on. While I may not have the right tools on hand for brewing coffee, being able to make some last night helped me work out the kinks, and a few minutes later I had the first morning cup of coffee in weeks. Strangely enough, this reminded me of reading accounts of the American Civil War, specifically the southerners.

Most people tend to frame the war in simplistic terms, while ignoring the individual struggles of those who fought on both sides. The southerners especially had a rough time considering Gen. Winfield Scott’s Anaconda plan, a massive blockade, was far more effective than even he realized. And anyone who’s read first-person accounts know that the one thing they complained about not having the most was coffee. Most would find it impressive the lengths they went to when trying to brew something even remotely resembling the brew.

I can’t even begin to understand what people went through during the Civil war, but maybe in a small way I’ve gained a bit of that experience by having to go a couple weeks without coffee. Except, minus the violence. Actually, scratch that, there’s been a fair bit of violence. But I managed to survive without boiling dandelion roots to make ersatz coffee at least.

I sat there, enjoying the sensation of finally being able to hold a warm cup of coffee in the morning again while waiting for my brain to get running, when a tap on my shoulder brought me out of the 1860’s and into the present. I had forgotten to grab my breakfast, distracted by coffee. As we began to eat, I remembered something.

“Where’s Elizabeth?” I asked, a bit nervous. The clinging from her was starting to weird me out.

“Probably still sleeping. After drinking a pot of that stuff you’ve got there she got kind of weird and started rambling about stuff. She didn’t fall asleep until a few hours after you went to bed.”

“Stuff?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Compared to other things, it’s really unimportant. Like how you were attacked yesterday.” Mary answered, finally getting to the point.

“Oh, right! What the fuck was up with that? I mean, I can guess why, but outright attacking me because I know a few things that are old-news in my world?”

“Guilds take their trade secrets seriously. A poor farmer’s wife making basic clothing is one thing, but someone not a member claiming to know how to make stuff at their level is a serious issue in their eyes.”

“That’s no excuse for attacking me. So, what are we going to do about it?”

‘’Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“They attacked the local lords daughter. There’s really not that much that’d be worth doing on top of that. Besides, I have this to drop off once his retainers gets here.” she stated, brandishing a letter towards. me. “Naturally, as one of the most powerful magic users in the area I have a fair bit of sway with both my brother and a few other key figures in the local administration. And it’s only right to seek financial compensation for the threat to my dear apprentice’s life, as well as for any emotional trauma, from the Tailor’s Guild. Actually mentioning less-than-legal retaliation the next time they try anything is unwise, but anyone with half a brain will be able guess how angry I am.”

“So...we aren’t going to do anything to them?”

“On top of my brother’s likely punishment, and the compensation I’m demanding? Heads are already going to roll over this, or rather, the gallows will be a bit crowded since the perpetrators aren’t nobles. There’s no need for me to go out and seek my own justice this time, since it’s not like the local lord is that incompetent. He is my brother after all. Besides,” she added in a slightly softer voice, “I wouldn’t want to put my apprentice in even more danger.”

“This just seems kind of...”

“Kind of what?”

“Anti-climatic, maybe? Both times I’ve gotten in trouble, and the problem has just been waved away by you. It kind of feels like I’m not really pulling my weight...” I trailed off.

“First of all, ‘both’ times? It’s been at least three times, in case you’ve forgotten me picking you up after you fell into this world. Not that I’m keeping track. Expecting you to just roll in here and be able to deal with everything thrown at you would be downright unreasonable of me. You’re new to not just magic, but this whole world which, might I remind you, is rather large and full of things different from the mundane world. I’m thankful you haven’t been seriously harmed, but having an apprentice who seems destined to run into trouble all the time like this has done nothing for my nerves. On top of you falling into this world, you got caught up in a problem of my own, which wouldn’t have happened if I had tied up loose ends like I should have. And I should have went with you yesterday to town since, again, you’re new here and even had been warned about the Tailor’s Guild. Saying you’re not pulling your weight is the last thing you should be saying. If anything, I’m not pulling my own weight, as your teacher and your friend.”

“...I’m sorry...”

“Please don’t apologize to me, you’ve done nothing wrong. The fault is mine, for not doing a better job watching out for you. If you ever actually do anything wrong, I’ll be the first to let you know.” She hesitantly reached across the table and awkwardly patted my hand. “It’s my job to take care of things for you, so let me take care of this incident. I can promise those responsible will pay, with both money and the lives of those responsible.”

“It still feels odd having it all solved by sending a letter.”

“Isn’t writing letters to politicians and dealing with the legal system how problems like this get solved in your world? In this case the local lord is both the politician and the legal system, so it simplifies things. He might as well work for those tax dollars we give him.”

“But I thought you didn’t pay taxes? Besides, writing letters to politicians doesn’t actually do anything in my world. It’s just a sort of catharsis, like screaming into a pillow or breaking a window. The most it does it get the police to look into you.”

She fixed me with a flat stare for a moment before finally responding.

“The more you talk about your life in your home world, the more I have to wonder how you managed to stay out of trouble long enough to even end up here.”