Potion Making Assistant

Job Description:

Robin pushed open the shop door, hearing the jingling noise of the bells attached. The potion shop was small, consisting of a few shelves of potions and a counter, which was currently unoccupied. He walked up to said counter and rang the small counter bell that was placed there. As he waited patiently for someone to come in response to the pleasant “ding,” he took a second glance around the shop. The shelves were neatly ordered into categories such as “medicinal,” “plant growth,” and even “love” (though the last one was labelled with a warning that its use was regulated under law). A short time later, an old man, looking to be in his late 80s, stepped up behind the counter.

“How may I help you, good sir?” he inquired in a somewhat quavering tone.

“Hello. I’m Robin - the one who reached out to you about the potion-making job.” Robin gave a polite smile. “I have no practical experience in the matter, I’m afraid, but I know some of the theory. Now, you were hoping to have someone help you in creating a new sort of potion?”

“Yes,” the potion maker replied, “if you’ll come with me, please.” Robin followed the old man to the back of the shop, which looked somewhat like a kitchen, that is, if a kitchen was stocked to the brim with almost every sort of strange ingredient imaginable. In the middle of the room was stationed a stove, with a number of kettles of varying sorts stationed on top of it. Nearby was a rack of glass phials in a number of different sizes and shapes, ready to be filled. Lining the edges of the room were bottles, jars, and other containers holding ingredients waiting to become potions. “What is the phrase you kids use again?” the old man asked, being stereotypically old, “‘have at it’?”

Robin nodded and began to scan the edges of the room for interesting materials. “If I remember correctly,” he muttered to himself, “I need some reagents, as well as a catalyst to start the process.” He grabbed a jar of powdered fish scales from a lower shelf. “That should serve as one…” He then picked out a Vulcan tooth from another jar, considered it for a second, and took it as well. “Potentially…” Walking over to the center of the room, he put the ingredients into a pot of water and turned on the stove. “Heat should serve as an adequate catalyst, so this might just work!” He stirred the mixture for a couple of minutes as it began to bubble violently. Eventually, Robin turned off the stove and poured the mixture into a few separate phials. He handed them to the shop owner, a bit skeptical at Robin’s choices of ingredients, and said, “There are two possibilities here. One: the potion works as intended and turns its drinker into a fish for a brief period. Two: I messed something up and it only turns the person’s head into that of a fish.”

The old potion maker, eyebrows raised in a combination of confusion and surprise, accepted the potions. “I don’t really understand why anybody would want something like this, but I suppose you did complete what I asked of you, so here’s the money.”

“Thank you very much!” Robin took the money and casually strode out the door, happy that he had made something. It may not have been what he had wanted to make, but at least he got paid for it.


Word Count: 587