Why Do You Even Have This? (2)
I followed Elioren, light outer robe and all, out of the manor.
A winery usually sits beside its vineyards, so I assumed we would be walking a long way clear of the city center. I braced myself for it. By the feel of the road, though, we arrived in about an hour.
It wasn't a proper downtown, and it wasn't the vast open country you want for farming either—an awkward outer district, half rural and half city, that couldn't quite decide what it was.
"We're already here?"
"Yes. Quicker than you expected, isn't it?"
And the winery waiting at the end of that walk...
This is a winery? Why is it so small?
It was small. Absurdly small.
The famous wineries of Europe ran past twenty hectares, unless they were the sort of tiny place a single craftsman kept by hand. A hectare is roughly one and a third soccer fields, so twenty of them is a ridiculous expanse, and some houses, depending on scale, stretched into the hundreds—Robert Mondavi, or the big estates of Australia and Chile. This was a medieval fantasy world. Mass industry had never taken root, and neither had the technology, so I hadn't expected anything on that order. Even so, a place this size...
Five hectares, maybe?
Barely seven soccer fields laid end to end. Smaller than the agricultural quarter back in Silbaerin. For someone who had seen modern industrial farming until he was sick of it, the impact landed a little flat.
"Well? Not quite as grand as you imagined, is it?"
"Ah, it's incredible... wait, what?"
"I know. It's smaller than you were hoping, and I can see the excitement has gone right out of you."
What? How did he know?
Elioren had read me clean through that gentle smile of his. Now that I thought about it, he had said something on the walk over.
The winery we're going to makes the finest wine in all of Nuardel.
Wait, seriously?
The aroma of sweet fruit, and the bright flavor of lemon zest, are remarkably charming. The moment a bottle appears, it sells, so they aren't easy to come by.
For a man who claimed he didn't much care for wine, he had praised the place to a suspicious degree. He had known perfectly well how small it was, praised it anyway, and then turned to me with a look that all but said Smaller than you thought, huh? and let the implication hang in the air.
He's sitting on some kind of setup.
There was a twist that hadn't been revealed yet. That was the only way to read it.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Eilenna! Come out for a moment. You have a guest."
Elioren pounded on the winery door and called for someone named Eilenna. The owner, then? And why did all of their names sound so alike? Elioren, Eilenna, Iseria, Seiran... Elven naming seemed to have a genuine fondness for that rolling L. Just remembering them was already a chore.
Bang. Bang.
No sign of life answered from beyond the door, so Elioren only knocked harder.
"Uh... is it really all right to hit it that hard?"
"It's fine. This is what it takes to get her to come out."
He answered as comfortably as if it were an everyday thing. And sure enough, heavy footsteps sounded on the other side.
Thud.
Thud. Thud.
The steps came right up to the threshold, and the door flew open.
"Guest? What guest...! Huh? A human?"
"Ah. Hello."
Hair the fresh yellow-green of unripe grapes. Clear blue eyes, as if a piece of sky had been set into them. A model's long, lean frame, and a presence that struck you from the very first glance.
A pretty older sister who makes good liquor.
Eilenna was exactly that sort of elven woman. She didn't so much as glance at Elioren, the one who had been hammering on her door. Her eyes went straight to me, though she looked away again before long.
"Elioren, what's the idea, showing up out of nowhere? This human... he's that one from the rumors, isn't he."
"He is. I came because I wanted to show Mr. Jinwoo the winery."
"Hey. You think this is the kind of place you get to look over just because you felt like it? And a human, no less..."
"Ah. A moment, if you please."
Mid-conversation, Elioren stepped in toward her. The distance between them closed until a whisper would have carried easily.
......
......!!
Then he leaned in and spoke directly into her ear.
Put down like that, it sounded terribly sweet. His expression, however, was thoroughly displeased, which only made me wonder what could possibly need to be delivered that way. Wonder was all I could do. I wasn't about to pry.
At the whisper, Eilenna flinched and hunched her shoulders. A moment later the sharp corners of her eyes went slack, all the strength gone out of them. That fierce older-sister presence she had been pouring off vanished, and in a heartbeat her gaze had turned meek.
"Th-then... c-come in. I'll give you the tour."
"Haha. This way, Mr. Jinwoo."
"Ah... yes."
Wearing the face of a thoroughly sulky cat, Eilenna let us into the winery. What on earth had she been told, to flip her attitude like the turn of a hand? Elioren, for his part, still wore that same gentle expression. He might have been a far more frightening man than I had given him credit for.
"I'll show you the vineyard first. That's the heart of the whole thing, anyway."
"Mm-hm. That part's true."
"What did you say?"
"Ah, nothing at all."
The words had slipped out before I could catch them. And no wonder—when it comes to making wine, the vineyard really is the heart of the heart.
Land, or soil, is called terroir in French. Narrowly, it means nothing more than the ground the grapes actually grow in. More broadly, it can take in climate and methods of cultivation as well. Go deep enough and you end up speaking, in very technical terms, of geological strata, water sources, even annual rainfall. I had only ever learned wine at a beginner's level, so I couldn't follow it that far.
Eilenna would know.
She was the expert. Surely she would. Offering to show the vineyard first practically radiated an intention to introduce the terroir. I followed her out into the field.
Seven soccer fields was a relatively small vineyard, but set against a single human being it was vast. Lush green vines ran all the way to the far end, each one braced with a stake so it wouldn't topple. Rows and ranks in perfect symmetry, the kind of order that settles the eye. Standing before them with a soft breeze sliding past, I caught the sweet scent of green grapes thick on the air.
Mm. This was healing. At last, something that felt properly elven. I let myself sink into the vineyard and enjoyed the quiet coming over me.
"The variety is called Esera. The acidity and the sugar are both so high they're hard to eat as they are, but once you make wine out of them, they're genuinely delicious."
"Oho..."
"The sweetness of ripened peach and apple, with lemon as the dominant note. They pair beautifully with a sweet dessert."
"Hmm... I see."
So when, exactly, was the explanation of the terroir coming? The variety was one thing, but there was supposed to be the rest of it. You know—the wide swing between day and night, the water veins running down out of the Kalian Mountain Range, moisture to spare. That sort of thing. I listened to Eilenna go on, and then I couldn't hold it in any longer.
"By the way, what are the characteristics of the land this vineyard sits on?"
"Hm? Characteristics? Well... it's made of dirt."
"Uh... and?"
"And there are probably some pebbles and stones in it? No pests, though."
A chill climbed my spine.
No. Surely not. Surely not.
I must have asked it strangely, and she was just confused by the question. I tried again, more carefully.
"Not that. I mean the climate of this land, the rainfall, the sunlight, the geological layers—what effect do those have on the grapes?"
"I don't know. What even is that? You're scaring me..."
Ah. And when had one of my bad feelings ever been wrong?
This was supposed to be the place that made the finest wine in Nuardel, and she didn't know something that basic? I was just sinking into disappointment and about to take her to task for it when Eilenna spoke.
"I don't really know about any of that. Here, I'll show you this instead. Hup!"
She scratched at her head as if the whole thing embarrassed her, then set both hands on a grapevine that had been harvested not long ago and stood empty, and let out a shout of effort.
Shrrrrrip—!
"Whoa, shit!"
"Hehe. Try one."
Pop.
The moment she poured that shout into the bare vine, the plant shot up like something possessed and set heavy clusters of green grapes. Eilenna plucked a single berry with a neat little pop and held it out to me.
Uh... this was all right to eat, wasn't it? The unnatural speed of the growth nagged at me, but my own Mana Market was stranger still, so I was hardly in a position to argue.
I slipped the grape into my mouth and bit down.
Crunch—!
The instant my molars broke the skin, juice burst free and flooded my mouth, like a taut water balloon giving way. I rolled that rapturous liquid over my tongue, and then—
"Ptooey!!"
I spat it straight onto the ground.
"Ugh, it's too sweet! And sour! Bleh..."
"Hahaha! Of course it is. They're winemaking grapes!"
"Eilenna. What do you think you're doing?"
"Eep."
My salivary glands had been well and truly provoked, and I spat and spat as the drool kept coming. Every time I did, the taste of the juice still clinging to my tongue came back to me.
I thought it would be sweet. I didn't think it would be like this.
Shine Muscat—the green grape that had ridden a craze back home for a while. Measured in Brix, the unit of sugar, Shine Muscat isn't shipped until it clears eighteen. In other words, the sweet green grapes people ordinarily eat top out, at the high end, around twenty Brix. Grapes grown for wine play by different rules. Twenty-six Brix at the minimum, and often past thirty. Between that sugar and the acidity that comes with it, eat more than a little and your tongue stings and your throat goes dry. I had figured a single berry would be fine.
It was not fine at all.
She didn't know terroir. She didn't know the climate. She didn't know any of it—and she had still produced sugar, acidity, and flavor on this level? I turned to Eilenna, who was in the middle of catching an earful from Elioren.
"How did you do it? You barely understand the climate, and you still grew grapes this good...?"
"Well, that's... partly thanks to the blessing of the World Tree."
Oh, for—the World Tree again?
The World Tree, stretching its influence into every corner of Nuardel and no farther. A genuine GOAT among GOATs. How had these people ever planned to get by without it?
Eilenna picked up the sentence she had left hanging.
"Using the World Tree's vitality more efficiently. That's the specialty of our house. Liliendra."
"Wh-what."
"No matter how much of the World Tree's blessing is overflowing, you don't get a flavor like that by simply pouring it in. It's possible because it passed through my hands."
"Your hands..."
So that was it.
Outside Nuardel—even on modern Earth—people recorded their terroir year after year, sweating to grow the finest grapes they could. While humans were grinding their teeth and telling themselves they had to win, the elves were going lol, click! and calling it done?
Fine. We lost.
"GG! The elves win!"
"Wh-what? Why are you suddenly like this?"
Honestly, once the gap at the starting line got this wide, I couldn't even be angry. If anything, my chest felt lighter.
"I've seen enough of the vineyard. Show me the winemaking facilities."
"R-right. Sure..."
Eilenna looked thoroughly thrown by how abruptly my attitude had turned toxic. I didn't care. I dragged my feet after her toward the winery proper.
"This is our winery. In that big wooden vat we crush the grapes, then we strain them through the sieve over there, and after that..."
She explained the facilities with real enthusiasm. Unfortunately, I already knew all of it, so I wasn't really listening.
Look closely and there are plenty of variables, but the broad trunk of the process went like this. You crush the harvested grapes by treading them with your bare feet. Treading them that way lets the yeast living on your skin get into the fruit and help the fermentation along. Next comes pressing—squeezing the juice out of the crushed grapes, plain and simple. After that you clarify the impurities from the juice, ferment, and filter, and you're done. Depending on the variety and the flavor you're after, you might age it or blend it, but in general, that was the shape of things.
Modern wineries were more complicated, and far larger, so a medieval setup didn't stir much interest in me. There was, however, exactly one reason I was still listening to the explanation.
"Um, Miss Eilenna?"
"Yeah? What?"
"Could you... show me the grape crushing? Just once?"
"? Sure. It was a day I had to do it anyway..."
Yes!!
I buried the delight on my face as best I could and cheered where no one could hear me.
The traditional method was to tread the grapes with clean bare feet, squelch by squelch, until they burst. A smooth, pale elven beauty, long yellow-green hair swaying down her back, putting on a barefoot grape show?
There was no resisting that.
Those pristine legs, dirtied by sticky grapes. The thought of her growing oddly shy about it, color rising in her face...
No. Keep it reasonable.
Smack!
I had nearly fallen straight into a filthy little daydream all on my own. I brought my palm down hard across my forearm and jolted myself back to sense. Maybe I was just jealous of the way Eilenna snapped her grapes into being with a click. Without meaning to, I had wanted to see her embarrassed.
"Human... I mean, Jinwoo. I'm... starting now?"
"Yes! Yes, please!"
Eilenna, fresh from washing her hands and feet clean, spoke up. Her presence had drawn in on itself, subtly smaller than before.
Here it comes!
That sordid little urge rose in me all over again.
She rolled up the hem of her top and the cuffs of her trousers, and then, without a pause, she began the crushing.
Squelch—
Splorch—!
Splash—!
I stared, blank, at the sight of her pulverizing the grapes without mercy. Her method blew straight past anything I had imagined. Because what she did was—
"No!!!!!! Why aren't you using your bare feet?! Why are you using magic!!!!!"
"What? Are you an idiot? How long do you think it would take to do all of this by foot!!"
"Even so! Even so!!!!"
A great mortar, the kind used for crushing grapes. Eilenna lifted it and dropped it again with wind magic, and the fruit went thud-thud, thud-thud, straight into pulp.
"This isn't!!!!! tradition!!!!"
My expectations were crushed right along with them, and just as thoroughly.