Scientific Sorcery : Beware of Kittens!

I yawned as I slid down my lopsided pile of earth.

There was no wind, nor much sunlight inside of the stone pub. Slender threads of dawn were beginning to infiltrate the narrow slits in the iron-braced window shutters casting thin lines across my face.

Stepping away from my blessed dirt pile made me feel a bit chilly.

I sighed and sat against my warm earth to prevent myself from shivering constantly. The path of listening to the wild was clearly going to be a bit of a winding one, since I'd removed myself away from it entirely seeking shelter and safety of walls.

As my mind began to wander due to the relaxing serenity-like sensation which came from merely sitting upon my relocated earth, I decided that it was time for more exploration and excavation.

I put on my earth-filled backpack and wandered across the village ruins with my shovel until I came across a half-obliterated large building. Presumably this was the hall of records or maybe the house of the local Jarl because the back rooms of the ruin featured collapsed bookshelves and iron cases packed with a variety of leather-bound tomes and scrolls, some of them filled with names and dates and the others empty.

It took me the entire morning to excavate all of the books from underneath collapsed ceilings and walls, but eventually I was rewarded with an entire library of unreadable books and records and a set of blank books, a silver inkwell and a few steel bottles of black and red ink.

Returning to the pub with a cart filled with literary treasures, I used the fanciest blank book to sketch out a chart of witch terminology aka a Witch Codex so as not to forget everything of value from what Yaga Grandhilda taught me.

I began by listing the days too, starting with:

. . .

Day 1:

Almost drowned, was turned into a witch by Yaga Grandhilda.

Day 2:

Woke up and figured out that I could break my domain limit using a shovel.

Learned about Adulthood Rituals & Spiritual Cultivation

Day 3:

Found books & started a journal.

. . .

Then I made a terminology list and my plans about each in the margins.

Astral Ocean: Some sort of a network which permits witches to commune via dreams.

Plan: Find out more.

Dragon Zarnitza: Dragons wake from long sleeps to feast on adult human hearts to extend their lifespan, but do not consume children as they are ‘empty vessels.’ Does this correlate to men of Svalbard eating hearts of their enemies to become stronger?

Plan: Avoid dragons at all cost. Possibly relocate somewhere where there are no dragons.

Ceremony of Vigslodi: A ritualistic raid marking adulthood for men, involving the slaying of a large beast or a man and eating their heart to align oneself with Perun.

Plan: Ask Yaga about other rituals. Understand the scientific bases of ritualistic magic.

Zemy’s Band: A year-long cultivation ritual for girls involving planting, harvesting, and crafting Linum into a tapestry, symbolizing their journey to adulthood.

Plan: Find out more about these tapestries and the nature of rituals.

Iron Needle Beetles: Destructive pests threatening Linum fields, which young women must protect using barriers and herbal repellents.

Plan: See if anyone stored these in their house.

Spiritual Pact with Zemliya: Sleeping on the land deepens domain magic.

Plan: Ask Yaga more information about the local pantheon.

Cultivation of Magical Insight: Understanding the physical and spiritual aspects of the domain enhances the potency of its produce, particularly for potion-making.

Plan: Attempt to grow a specific plant from Earth by mentally focusing on it. Which plant would be the most useful?

Astral Perception: Developing the ability to sense and understand the spiritual dimensions of the natural world

Plan: Attempt meditation.

. . .

I tapped my chin. General plans were good and all, but I needed to approach things more scientifically if I was to gain an understanding of exactly what witch-magic was and how it functioned.

I began to write:

Scientific Method for Magical Investigation:

Observation: Gather data about magical phenomena

Question: Formulate specific inquiries based on observations

Hypothesis: Propose tentative explanations for magical effects

Prediction: Determine the logical consequences of the hypothesis

Testing: Design and conduct experiments to test predictions

Analysis: Evaluate the results of the experiments

Conclusion: Accept, reject, or modify the hypothesis based on results

Repetition: Repeat the process to verify findings

With this framework in mind, I pondered over my observations so far, mentally outlined questions and then started listing some initial hypotheses about how witch-magic might function:

Hypothesis 1: The soil from my domain contains a form of energy that enhances biological processes.

Test: Place seeds in both regular soil and domain soil, controlling for other variables. Measure growth rates and compare.

Hypothesis 2: The magical properties of my domain are tied to my physical presence.

Test: Set up identical plant samples at varying distances from my usual resting spot. Monitor growth and vitality over time.

Hypothesis 3: Consumption of domain-grown plants increases my connection to the land and magical abilities.

Test: Shred domain grown grass into spices. Eat food flavored with witchgrass for a week, then switch to regular food. Keep a detailed log of any noticeable changes in perception or abilities.

Hypothesis 4: The "spirit sight" Yaga mentioned is a learnable skill rather than an innate ability.

Test: Dedicate time each day to meditation and attempts at perceiving beyond normal senses. Document any progress or unusual experiences.

Hypothesis 5: The dragon's fire specifically targets organic matter through some form of elemental recognition. Understand what the witch's domain targets.

Test: Expose various organic and inorganic materials from the village to my domain, track the occurring changes. Lay materials out in varying distances from the center of my domain to its edges to track where the domain effect begins to decay.

Hypothesis 6: The rapid healing of plant cells observed under magnification is a property that can be transferred to other organisms.

Test: Create a poultice from domain-grown plants and apply it to small wounds on animals (if any can be found). Compare healing rates with untreated wounds.

Hypothesis 7: The magical properties of the domain can be influenced by my thoughts and intentions.

Test: Focus intently on specific desired traits (e.g., faster growth, different plants) while tending to different sections of the garden. Compare results over time.

Hypothesis 8: The "Astral Ocean" mentioned by Yaga is a form of shared consciousness accessible through altered states of mind.

Test: Attempt to induce lucid dreaming through various techniques (e.g., reality checks, meditation before sleep) and document any experiences that seem to connect with other minds or realms.

Hypothesis 9: The magical resistance to cold observed in domain plants can be transferred to inanimate objects.

Test: Soak various materials (cloth, wood, metal) in water infused with crushed domain plants. Expose these treated materials to freezing temperatures alongside untreated controls.

Hypothesis 10: The domain's energy can be stored or transferred to other locations.

Test: Create a series of containers filled with domain soil and plants. Move these to different locations and monitor for any retention or decay rate in magical properties.

As I finished writing, I realized the enormity of the task ahead. Each hypothesis would require careful planning, meticulous observation, and likely multiple iterations of testing. But the prospect of unraveling the mysteries of being a witch filled me with excitement.

The day was much colder than yesterday as winter loomed closer, frost beginning to cover the stained glass windows of the pub.

From what Yaga told me, I was spending precious magic on constantly fighting the chill, so I threw some wood into the pub’s large fireplace and lit it, enjoying the dance of flames and flight of sparks.

By observing a deep crack in the wall likely caused by the dragon stomping around the village, I noted that the pub was built exceptionally well to contain heat. The old building’s structure consisted of three layers of well-set stones, an empty space and another layer of thinner stones held up against wooden beams. The round windows were made from clear stained glass, letting in plenty of light for my plants to enjoy.

It only took twenty minutes of a blaze within the fireplace to make the interior completely warm and cosy. Having attained warmth, I took off my winter garb and started to meticulously sort through my dirt pile in an attempt to understand how exactly magic could have changed chemical properties of the mundane earth.

I soon discovered a large rock that had apparently been lounging directly underneath my backside earlier. I washed the rock and cracked open one of its sides using a blacksmith’s clamp and hammer, revealing a crystalline interior, similar to quartz.

Was this rock already crystalline or had my witch-magic affected all rocks in this manner?

I slid the crystal into a pocket and searched for more rocks. Upon inspection, all rocks within the pile were crystalline.

With a backpack filled with earth and my pockets filled with crystal gems I quickly ventured outside to where my glade had been previously and dug a bit around it.

None of the rocks there were crystal.

My magic had indeed somehow crystallized perfectly mundane rocks!

I returned to the pub and examined the wooden floors beneath my earth pile using my water drop microscope. There were distinctive, crystalline micro-structures forming between wood fibres. Next, I examined the metal chests that housed my plants. The metal was slowly turning into some kind of a strange fusion between iron and micro-crystals.

Curious.

I pulled out my Witch Codex and added a new entry:

Crystallization Magic: Ability to transform mundane materials into crystal-like structures through prolonged exposure to a witch. Observed in rocks, wood, and metal.

Potential uses: unknown.

I spent the next few hours roaming the village to collect unique mundane materials to shove them into my magical pile to track which things would crystallise faster.

First, I gathered various types of wood - pine from a broken chair, oak from a fallen beam, and birch from a shattered decorative lock-box. In what remained of a carpenter’s workshop, I found samples of exotic woods: a piece of dark ebony and a sliver of reddish mahogany. From a broken musical instrument, I salvaged a small piece of resonant spruce.

Metals were next on my list. I collected iron nails, a copper pot, and a silver spoon I found buried in the rubble of what must have been a wealthy home. In the blacksmith’s shop, I discovered scraps of steel, brass, and even a small nugget of gold which had likely been awaiting crafting into jewelry.

As I searched, I came across interesting fabrics. I cut small pieces from a tattered wool cloak, a linen tablecloth, and a fragment of silk from a priest’s vestments in the rubble-shaped remnants of Svalbard’s chapel. In another iron case, one which perhaps belonged to a seamstress, I found scraps of cotton, velvet, and even a small piece of leather.

Stones were plentiful, so I gathered a variety: smooth river rocks, jagged pieces of slate, and a small chunk of marble from a broken statue. I also collected pieces of granite, sandstone, and a curious green stone that might have been jade. A few iron lockboxes and piles of ashes, likely once wealthy matrons, provided me with the following jewellery:

A silver necklace adorned with small pearls and a teardrop-shaped aquamarine pendant.

A pair of gold earrings, each set with a round garnet.

A bronze bracelet inlaid with alternating pieces of turquoise and coral.

A delicate gold ring featuring a cushion-cut peridot.

An ornate silver brooch studded with tiny amethysts arranged in a floral pattern.

A heavy gold signet ring with a flat-cut onyx bearing an unfamiliar coat of arms.

A pair of silver hair combs, each decorated with small opals.

A gold pendant on a thin chain, set with a large, oval-cut citrine.

A silver anklet with dangling charms, each set with a different gemstone: ruby, sapphire, emerald, and topaz.

From the village’s mostly obliterated tannery, I gathered samples of animal products: a piece of cured hide, some horsehair, and even a small fragment of bone. In a potter’s workshop, I found clay, both raw and fired into ceramics.

I also got a sample of the dead tree's bark and nipped a branch from a somewhat alive bush.

As the sun began to set, I made one last quick sweep through the village. I collected bits of straw from a collapsed roof, some dried moss from a stone wall, and even a handful of ashes from an old hearth.

Laden with my eclectic collection, I returned to the pub as darkness fell. I carefully arranged each sample in my magical earth pile, making sure to label them for future observation.

As the stained glass windows became pitch black, I made myself dinner from dry meats and pickled vegetables, my mind buzzing with anticipation about what changes the morning might bring to my diverse collection of materials.

I lit some candles to provide myself light. Staring at the various jewelry in my possession, I added more writing to the Codex, having arrived at an idea.

Hypothesis: Magical energy can be observed through crystalline structures that have been exposed to my domain's influence, similar to how certain materials can detect specific types of radiation or electromagnetic waves.

This idea wasn't entirely without precedent in the scientific world I remembered. For instance, scintillation crystals were used to detect ionizing radiation, converting the energy of incident radiation into visible light. Similarly, piezoelectric crystals could convert mechanical stress into electrical signals and vice versa.

If magic in this world operated on principles analogous to electromagnetic or quantum phenomena, it stood to reason that properly aligned crystalline structures might be able to interact with or detect it.

Experimental Design:

Select crystals of various compositions and expose them to my domain's influence for extended periods.

Construct a viewing apparatus.

Use the apparatus to observe various objects and areas:

a. My domain soil

b. Plants grown in my domain

c. Regular soil and plants

d. Living creatures (if any can be found)

e. River Glinka

Record observations, noting any unusual visual phenomena, colors, or patterns that aren't visible to the naked eye.

Create control apparatus with unexposed crystals.

I paused my writing. I didn't have a big variety of gems on hand. I'd have to attempt to split and grind my gems VERY carefully.

If anything, I could definitely compare regular glass to witch-irradiated glass. I've had a lot of that in my domain and outside of it. I returned to my outline.

Compare observations between witch-exposed crystals and mundane ones to rule out optical illusions or confirmation bias.

Vary crystal exposure times and arrangements to see if it affects results.

If successful, attempt to quantify the "magical" phenomena observed.

I went on to outline twenty more crystal apparatus ideas and how they might work in terms of magical tracking, filling the pages of the codex with a multitude of ideas until the candles in my possession burned out.

Still having an absurd amount of energy left, I lit a torch and with the jewelry in hand, made my way to the village smithy, grateful that the dragon’s rampage had left this building mostly intact.

I set to work, carefully prying the selected gems from their settings. It was delicate work, and I found myself wishing for more refined tools. Nevertheless, I persevered, using small chisels and pliers to free the stones from their metal prisons.

Once liberated, I set about the painstaking process of breaking the bigger gems along crystal planes. When I had enough split gems, I left a piece of each in the smithy and carried the rest with me back to my pub, burying them in my earth.

I wasn’t big on the idea of meditation but I decided to try it out regardless, just to see if something would happen.

Thus, I sat down on my earth pile, closed my eyes and attempted to connect with the spiritual.

My first meditation lasted about thirty minutes and simply resulted in me falling asleep on my magical rock and soil pile.