Chapter 02 …
Potion Making
Kuna ties her black hair loosely at the back of her neck so it won’t get in the way.
She brushes dust off her clothes outside and puts on the apron that had been hanging on the clothesline.
She draws water from the water jar using a bucket and washes her hands. It is water she drew from the well this morning. She wipes her wet hands with a clean cloth.
Next, she picks up a spray bottle and sprays her hands, then rubs them together. It is a special disinfectant made by mixing alcohol and water.
Since potion making requires space, she moves to the preparation room attached behind the counter.
She prepares a mortar and pestle, then puts the dried medicinal herbs—hung outside earlier in the day—into the mortar.
Holding the mortar between her spread legs, Kuna begins grinding the contents with the pestle.
(…grind grind)
Within a few minutes, she crushes the herbs into powder.
(Yes, satisfying.)
She hugs the mortar and moves next to the stove placed against the wall.
Inside the brewing pot placed on the stove, she pours in a large amount of mana water created using water magic. Since she plans to make ten bottles of potion, a considerable amount is needed.
She creates fire directly at the bottom of the brewing pot using fire magic.
Because the pot itself has a special magic circle engraved into it, the fire automatically stops when she stops supplying mana.
For apothecaries who make potions for a living, the ability to use water and fire magic is essential.
(Both are only at the level of basic life magic, so most people can use them.)
She controls the amount of mana flowing out and adjusts the size of the flame while the mana water begins to gently boil.
After adding the freshly crushed herbs, she continues stirring endlessly with a wooden spatula.
The originally colorless mana water gradually turns green. The color of the herbs used as ingredients is seeping out and dissolving into it.
Of course, eating roadside medicinal herbs directly can also restore stamina.
For example, if you fall and scrape your knee, eating five to ten herbs will close the wound.
However, if one herb is used to brew a potion, then depending on the quality of the potion, even a single bottle can heal minor wounds like abrasions without needing to drink it all.
It is precisely because of this efficiency that herbs are “evolved” into potions.
(And grass is bitter and tastes bad anyway.)
Naturally, anyone would prefer something easier to drink in liquid form.
Kuna keeps stirring the contents of the pot round and round.
At the same time, she channels mana into the pot to increase the potion’s purity while controlling the fire magic. It is a far more demanding task than it looks.
When her grandmother was teaching her how to make potions, Kuna used to lose consciousness around this stage.
But now, perhaps because her mana capacity has increased, making about ten bottles of potion is no longer difficult at all.
Unfortunately, she has never tried making more than that. The main reason is simple—there are not enough medicinal herbs to do so.
Farmers are not allowed to leave their village without the lord’s permission. The forest surrounding Aco Village is called the “Forest of Death,” and although it looks like it would have plenty of materials, it is also a restricted area.
The only places where medicinal herbs can be gathered are the herb fields and the barren roadsides.
…And occasionally, herbs taken secretly near the edge of the forest.
“I don’t want my brother scolding me for wasting them either.”
However, if she doesn’t practice, Kuna will never improve her potion-making skills.
So today as well, she secretly practices while her brother is away.
She extinguishes the brightly burning flame.
Once she confirms the potion liquid has cooled sufficiently, she scoops some up with a ladle to taste it before transferring it into bottles.
The green potion liquid. If asked whether it is tasty, the answer is uncertain.
The thick liquid carries a distinct bitterness. It is a taste that would make both children and adults grimace.
If she had sugar or honey, she could improve the taste—but in Kuna’s poor household, such luxuries do not exist.
However, that taste is—.
“Yes. It turned out well.”
The sensation still lingering on her tongue—the taste of her grandmother’s potion—.
It is so similar to that unforgettable flavor. Or at least, that is what she thinks.
“But… it’s still no good, huh…”
Kuna’s potions are known throughout the village as “failed potions.”
Unlike the potions made by her brother Dorf, which can heal wounds almost instantly, Kuna’s potions are despised for doing nothing except tasting bad.
Even if they resemble her grandmother’s potions in taste, that alone means nothing.
With potions like these, no one will ever buy them.
The yellow-capped potions Kuna makes always remain unsold.
“…But I am an apothecary.”
Kuna steels herself with those words.
She continues striving with a single wish—to get even a little closer to her admired grandmother.
And when she is making potions, she feels like she can forget all the unpleasant things.
