Over the next few weeks, Jeb gradually found the optimal amounts and ratios of the different malts and Fireleaf to make his ideal Firestout. Of course, none of the failed versions (with one notable exception) were undrinkable, or even unpopular. As Jeb realized that certain batches had drifted further from his goal, he began to bottle them. Unlike during the term break, Jeb knew that there was no way that he would be able to make enough bottles for his needs. After a few trips to the Glassblowing Workshop to take its entire supply of bottles and corks, the head Glassblower pulled him aside.
“What are you doing with all of these bottles?”
“I’m bottling all the beer from my Emporium!” Jeb replied happily, handing over a bottle of one of his better Firestouts.
The Glassblower took the beer, peering at it somewhat suspiciously. After a moment, though, she shrugged and took a sip before nodding appreciatively. The flames coming out of her mouth seemed almost insubstantial, as though they were completely made of diffracted light. She took another sip, let out a small sigh, and then shook her head, clearly refocusing.
“Is this a personal project, or is this a business venture?”
“I think it’s a business venture,” Jeb replied without confidence.
She nodded. “In that case, you will need to purchase the bottles you wish to use. Who is the faculty member mentoring this project?”
“Dean Aquam,” Jeb replied more confidently.
She continued nodding and let Jeb leave with the bottles he had gathered. The next day, Dean Aquam informed him that he would need to give a week’s notice before he could receive any more bottles. However, he would also be able to request different shapes, colors, or sizes of bottle. Jeb still defaulted to the plain brown that signified beer to most of his peers, but was glad to know that he had other options.
After three consecutive failed attempts to improve his Firestout, Jeb noted the recipe down in the ledger that Margaret had given him.
“A Head Brewer should have a recipe book with his final recipes,” she explained when she had given him the soft leather tome, “if only so that you can recall what recipe you made decades ago when a customer comes back with a sudden order.”
After optimizing his Firestout, Jeb found that he was growing bored of the effects of Firebeer. His customers seemed to feel the same way, if the way that they did not react to the flames coming out of their mouths at all was any indication. For his next recipe, Jeb wanted to try something pale and light. He had a vague memory that one Alchemical had very floral notes, and he found it in the larger tome of Alchemical Brewing. Thankfully, it was a plant that non-Druids were still willing and able to grow, so Jeb had no issues requesting a few pounds to experiment with.
He carefully brewed a small pot of tea with a few sprigs of the Alchemical, noting the way that the flavor changed as it extracted for longer. The floral notes boiled off in just a few seconds, while the bitter notes took a few minutes to really fully develop. Jeb made a few notes on a nearby wall and started Brewing.
Since he wanted the brew to be pale and light, he only used the barely cooked malt for sugar. He added a small amount of the Alchemical Eyebright, noting the recommended concentrations in the Alchemical Brewing guide. After a few minutes, Jeb stopped the heat on the barrel and added another portion. When the wort started to cool, he added the yeast and Yeast Energizer. The beer was finished a few moments later, and Jeb gave it a hesitant sip.
Over the many barrels of Firebeer that he’d brewed, Jeb had grown familiar with the feeling of an Alchemical taking effect. As a result, he knew that something was happening, even though he could not tell exactly what. The feeling quickly faded, and Jeb realized that he hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to the flavor, too focused on the Magic.
Taking his next sip, Jeb let out a sigh of relief. The beer was light, as he had hoped for. The bubbles tickled his lips as he raised the glass to his lips, and the flavor was crisp and clean. The bitter notes helped keep the beer from tasting too cloying, and the slightly strange floral notes invited him to keep drinking. He called the beer a success and moved the barrel into the Emporium.
As he lifted the barrel onto a new stand, the bar patrons gathered around, interest clearly piqued. Catherine spoke first, “That doesn’t seem like another barrel of Firestout,” she commented.
“It isn’t,” Jeb confirmed, drawing the entire bar’s attention even further onto him.
“What is it?” Catherine asked, raising her voice slightly to catch the few stragglers who had yet to notice the commotion.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Jeb shrugged and pulled out a mug to give to her. She took it and quickly took a large mouthful. Her eyes closed in satisfaction as she let out a sigh. When she opened them, Jeb noticed the difference.
Catherine’s eyes were normally a light but piercing blue. It tended to remind Jeb of a winter morning when he saw them. Right now, however, they blazed a vicious shade of orange. Jeb took half a step back without thinking about it, startled by the sudden change.
“What?” Catherine demanded, eyes slowly fading back to their normal hue.
“Apparently this beer changes the color of your eyes,” Jeb replied. “Otherwise, I would describe it as a light pale ale.”
Catherine quickly leapt behind the counter and added another column beside the rows dictating the different versions of Firestout available. “Is Eyelight Ale an appropriate name for this?” she asked the room.
Jeb tried to sense whether Alchemy or Brewing would have already given him a name. It didn’t, at least as far as he could tell, so he shrugged and agreed with the rest of the crowd. When Jeb found what he thought of as the optimal recipe for the Eyelight Ale, he moved on to another beer.
Some of the Professors had begun coming to the Emporium, and one commented that he missed an amber ale that one of the Druids used to make. All that he could remember was its color and the fact that it made the drinker’s hair stand straight out in every direction. Jeb pored through his Alchemical Brewing books for a full week, unable to find anything that met that description. Just as he was nearly pulling his own hair out from consternation, Margaret came by.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
Jeb related his issues finding an Alchemical that could do what the Professor wanted, and Margaret nodded. A few minutes later, five new books dropped themselves onto his desk. Each was a different compendium of Alchemical Brewing at a higher level than what he had done. Rather than using a single Alchemical, each used a mixture of at least three or four. Within those tomes, he found a recipe that resembled what the Professor had asked for. After Brewing a small test container, he brought a mug to the Professor’s table.
He took a long drink, wispy hair suddenly shooting off in every direction. With tears in his eyes, he thanked Jeb for bringing back memories of his youth. The sudden commotion of a Professor crying was enough to pull the entire Emporium’s attention, and Jeb rushed out to make a full barrel of Hairraiser.
When Jeb tried the barrel, he was not particularly fond of the style. It was far more bitter than he preferred in a beer. However, Jeb was once again reminded that his own tastes were not universal. Sales of Hairraiser quickly outstripped Firestout once word started to spread about it.
Since it was a recipe he had no interest in perfecting, Jeb moved on to another project. The advanced Alchemical Brewing books all had references to an Inkstain Ale. Each of the authors had their own hypotheses for how, exactly, the beer had been made, but none had cared enough to attempt to recreate the recipe themselves. As far as Jeb could tell, it was a beer that would cause designs to temporarily form on the drinker’s skin. None of the authors had left any comments on the flavor profile, instead saying to simply drink the beer oneself. Unsurprisingly, Jeb was unable to find anyone who had a bottle available for him to try.
With nothing else to go off of, he began experimenting with the different blends of Alchemical Reagents that the books suggested. When none of the ratios that had been suggested worked, Jeb briefly worried that he might be making the wrong kind of beer. After reassuring himself that the Magical effects were determined simply by the Alchemical Reagents, their concentrations, and the fact that he had Brewed them, Jeb started paying more attention to the Essences within each of the failed batches. Each of them had a similar Essence, even if Jeb could not quite put a name on it.
He was discussing his findings with Catherine and Declan in the Emporium when Professor Quicksilver came in. He walked up to the bar and ordered one of each of Jeb’s brews that were still on tap. Jeb shrugged and filled up three mugs for the Professor.
Quicksilver accepted the drinks with a nod and sipped each one. He frowned at each sip, and Jeb noticed that none of the Magical effects seemed to take place.
“The beer tastes nice,” Quicksilver said once he had sampled each.
“Thank you!” Jeb replied.
“But,” Quicksilver seemed to hesitate, as though he was unsure how to continue.
“But what?” Jeb asked.
“I suppose that I am disappointed in how much your Essence control has slipped since last term. I know that you have the Alchemy Skill now, but that is no excuse for letting the fundamentals falter.”
Jeb looked at the beer, unsure what Quicksilver meant. As soon as he started looking, he saw the issue. None of the beers emitted a single unified Essence signature. The Firestout was the closest, and even it had shades of flame and spark interwoven with the fire. The rest were far worse.
Quicksilver blushed as Jeb continued staring at the beers. “That was not entirely fair, I suppose. Alchemical Brewing is a distinct art, and it is absolutely more difficult to control Essences when manipulating them through a medium. Still, I would be remiss as an educator if I did not point out areas for you to improve.”
“Would you be willing to help me learn how to control Essences in Alchemical Brewing?” Jeb asked, thinking about his failures to make the Inkstain Ale.
Quicksilver brightened. “Absolutely!” he replied, finishing his beers and standing to leave. “I will see you in my office,” he replied, walking out of the Emporium.
Jeb turned to Declan and Catherine. “Well, you heard what Professor Quicksilver said,” he said as he went to leap over the counter.
“Wait,” Declan said, holding up a hand. “Are you giving up on Brewing for the Emporium right now?”
Jeb shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on it. If you two are tired of running the Emporium, though, I’m happy to stop. Otherwise, I think that it would be best if someone else manned the bar. I’m happy to make new barrels of whatever you need as the bar runs out of product.”
Catherine and Declan looked at each other for a moment, some sort of unspoken communication clearly going on between them. As one, they turned and offered Jeb a nod.
“We’re excited to see what you learn,” they said, trading places with him at the counter. Jeb took one last look at the room and left, chasing after Quicksilver.