Things are a little awkward. On the plus side, the annoying gossip is very much silent. On the minus side, everyone is watching me like a primed grenade right now. And that is after shaping away the dragony bits and reassuring everyone that yes, faces will remain unmelted and heads uneaten. Philistines.

 

Hrm, well... Admittedly, good on them to continue with the evening, even though I'm now having an exclusion zone around me. Just in case, I guess. The much quieter murmurs around are taking way different tack right now, though. Everyone's low-key buzzing about me being a witch. I mean, shit, everyone and I DO mean everyone can do some cantrips, but that doesn't make one a witch, according to the people around. Shapeshifting because you got in a foul mood, on the other hand? Very much does, I guess.

 

I guess my decision not to bother with things like restraint did contribute to it. But really, why would I want to stand if I can conjure a chair? Or, rather, a couch, because my wives had elected to hover nearby protectively, and Katherine had the same idea, though I'm not sure if it's more for protecting me, protecting people from me, or being protected by me from the people. Annnd... Nope. First some flooring. Lemme think, yeah, pebble mosaic is good. I'm in the mood for colorful. Now corner columns to hold the awning, connect them with rods to hang the awning on, and now plop the couch down... ...Myeah kinda... lacks something. So if I add three more squares like this, remove the central column, make arches and smoke vent in the center, now dip the center and border it up... I absentmindedly rip out the dry wood from the closest environs, would be kinda crummy to raid someone's firewood stockade, so I have to reach a bit further... Fire it up, aaand, yes, this works...

 

"Roasties, anyone?" - I murmur, as I peer at the fire. ...And then I abruptly realize I just went off to construction lala-land. Fuck it, I'mma just own it, I'm boss enough for it. Bridgit, thankfully, catches up rather quickly and disappears only to return with a bowl of cut bread, cheese and assorted veggies all fit for roasting over fire on the sticks. I really need to invent marshmallows sometime soon. It's... eerily quiet all around. For a bit. Then murmuring starts again, this time with more "holy shit did you see what she just did?" overtone to it. And that's when Vasil comes up.

 

"Pani Gillespie..." - he begins, only to trail off as he takes in the additions. I wave in his general direction, plopping down a conjured chair. He's an older guy, it stands to reason I'd offer him a seat of his own.

 

"...You sure are free with magic." - he ventures cautiously, after taking a seat. The youngsters, who apparently lost interest in fisticuffs creep closer... Meh, this just ain't it. I throw down a bunch of stools and benches in their general direction, spreading them out so there are enough of sitting options for people to roast stuff on fire as well. Youngsters take the hint surprisingly well, because a few minutes later there is a keg of beer nearby, someone is peeling potatoes and the mood is generally buzzing toward a "bonfire party". Some of the older people show up, making it necessary to expand the platform several times until I give up and just spread the pavement across the whole village center. The bonfire pit gets just stretched and more fuel is added to it, including several outright logs to make up the bigger mass of coals necessary to give everyone cooking space. The chairs for older folk follow...

 

Throughout all of it, Vasil's brows continue going higher and higher and higher. Finally, he has had enough.

 

"Just... how much power can one have?" - he finally mutters, caught somewhere inbetween astonishment and bewilderment.

 

"Never actually saw Alyssa run out, uncle." - Roxolane retorts cheerfully - "In Academy, they call her Infinite Witch, you know?"

 

No, I actually do NOT know. Roxy, what the fuck. Apparently, my surprise shows on my face, because she giggles and leans over to me, whispering - "That's just one of many monikers, love. And not even the strangest one."

 

Now I'm morbidly curious. "So, what IS the weirdest moniker I'm known as in the Academy?" - I inquire to all four of my wives.

 

Lily-Anne pinches her lips and shakes her head disapprovingly - "Sun and Moon, I think? And yes, they literally call you sun AND moon, not either of those. Junior Inquisitors are a weird bunch."

 

Roxolane smirks - "I think Metal Mistress is the weirdest one for me. That's what the alchemist hopefuls are bandying about."

 

"Elvenwood." - Moon Unit quips from her side - "No idea why, but that's what half the academy girls refer to you as when they talk to me."

 

I look at the Bridgit. Who blushes and looks aside. Then finally proffers in a small voice - "The weirdest among the servants would be, uhm... The Lustful One."

 

...Holy fuckbisquits, why? This is cringeworthy? Right? Right?! Please tell me it's cringe. PLEASE.

 

___

 

A bit later, the party had expanded. Seems like Taras was warned by Vasil, looked at everything and told everyone "go for it". We even have some daring souls from the village across the river. Counting more every minute, looks like the party noises are attractive enough to overcome the "holy shit they flew in on some monster" sentiments. In fact, I have a bunch of middle-aged men all hanging on every word as I explain the basics of vacuum zeppelins. Good thing I started with practical demonstrations, they were mighty skeptical of my claim that air is just like water only way less dense insofar as buoyancy is concerned. It does help they are familiar with swamp gas bubbles floating, though.

 

"Wait a moment, pani." - one of them ventures thoughtfully - "So I know how the wood floats on the water, and I understand the swamp gas floating on air... And I maybe see how enough of something floating on the air can lift someone up... But does that mean that you can make a ship out of stone and it will sail the sea if only it's big enough to keep enough of empty inside?"

 

"Basically, yes." - I confirm blithely - "It might take some time, but you can make ship hulls out of masonry, if you really want to. Not the best idea, because the rougher the surface is, the slower the ship will be, but you definitely can have something stone-built floating so long as you calculate the buoyancy correctly. Just so we are clear - the size of the thing you would need to build would be, at least, an island capable of supporting this whole village on it, unless you are willing to REALLY build down, which will be even more complicated and expensive to pull off. I can't think of any reason to want to build something like this that would not be fulfilled even better by simply making an artificial island, to be honest."

 

"And... making islands is the easier option?" - one of the men mumbles, looking a little dazed.

 

"Depending on the condition of the delta I might be making a couple of those next week." - I quip offhandedly - "You have a good location here, a seaport will kick your trading upwards by a lot. Maybe get some talking with more sensible ork tribes later on, they have some wares that would fetch a good price in the west."

 

I pause to take a sip of rakia. Pretty good, actually, mostly plums, but there are also some berries in the mix. Nice. Might want to import this, actually, fruit brandy is always a good seller.

 

"Back to the topic of ships, however." - I muse - "Wooden hull is a traditional method, of course, but going bigger, the hulls will have to be made from steel. Not in the nearest future, of course, not until there is enough of trade to justify the investment in bulk cargo freighters. Steel-hulled warships are another venue, for obvious reasons. I will probably need to build a couple as a deterrent, but hopefully going forth they won't be needed much."

 

I tactfully omit mentioning that steel-hulled warships would be, to contemporary consideration, man-made disasters. Woman-made, even. Heh. Jokes aside, there is literally NO polity out there that has protocols for dealing with naval bombardment. And I can make dreadnoughts if I really want to.

 

___

 

I might have dazed the older men with the futurism a bit too much. They are right now drinking. A lot. And I am instead beset by children, who got over the "scary witch" moment only to get stuck on "granting wishes now". I might have passed out a bit too many sweets. Lily-Anne and Katherine are very busy nearby, holding a mock-up court for some inane reason. Why the fuck country gals are so dead-set on being run through the crash course on courtly manners? Bridgit appears here and there, in spite of my entreaties not to. And yes, people are commenting about the Everywhere Maid. Lucky her, getting a stable nickname. Not like the throng of off-beat stuff foisted on me by everyone and anyone. Roxy is sitting with her mother, and I'm not gonna intrude on that, they have a lot to catch up on. Moon Unit is playing the flute and a LOT of people are enthusiastically shaking their tailfeathers to the "gen-u-wine elfin music". Cy is among the children besetting me, feeding the anklebiters some cues on what to say to me. Some of the topics they end up raising are kinda... eyebrow-raising.

 

"...Sure, I can make gold arbitrarily." - I shrug - "But, well... See, if I start MAKING the gold cheap, it will not lead to me becoming rich. It will lead to everyone becoming poor. If a handful of gold can be had for the same price as a handful of dust, it will be worth as much as a handful of dust. The high price of gold is a collective delusion, it costs so much only because people consider it to be valuable. Aside from some niche use in metallurgy, jewelry-forging and enchantment, gold has no practical value."

 

There is a bit of a confused pause, then everyone resumes clamoring with different questions.

 

"...Breathe fire? Yeah, sure." - I shrug again, as I tilt my head upwards and exhale a stream of ethanol vapor through a simple fire spell. The resulting tongue of flame extends easily five meters upwards, making all the kids swoon and shriek and shout for MOAR. Fine, they want a show, they get a show. I clear my throat a couple times.

 

"Sorry, everyone. That was kinda lousy one, innit?" - I tease them as I try again. This time, the stream is an aerosol of magnesium and iron oxide run through a forge-grade heat point. The resulting white fire is very reminiscent of a huge blowtorch in shape and in sound. Adding some copper, sodium or barium to the mix changes colors... Uh, which one is red... Oh, yeah. Strontium. Or calcium... No, calcium is orange. The kids are definitely happy, though I have to disappoint them by mentioning they have no chance of learning how to do this until they are at the very least adults. Because, well... I'm not gonna teach them how to burn their own house down. With or without lemons.