The room was dark, but that was better for his purposes. Candles punctuated the darkness, perched on rolled ritual paper. Each one was made of a different lipid, the scents were natural, which was pleasant in some cases, and unpleasant in others. He focused hard to block out the combined scent, which was stronger than he would have liked.
He had three timers set up, the calibration has to be precise, and just the right amount of each liquid had to be collected in each vial before being combined. The temperature had to be precisely adjusted, and each one needled to be perfect before they were brought into contact, and in the exact right order.
A drop of sweat rolled off his forehead and onto the bonding paper under him.
This was a simple potion; the process should be simple. It hardly needed to be aged, it hardly needed any focus, it just needed proper brewing and timing. The complex ones might take a few days of processing and good timing.
He looked at the roof over his head. He wondered if his neighbors thought he was making drugs in here (illegal drugs, anyhow), but decided, likely not, since they thought he was a policeman. He had known plenty of police who were corrupt, but people seldom thought of the two of these things together.
The first timer dinged. He had to combine the first two ingredients in the batch. Two drops in each vat, that was all they needed. The color changed subtly, the scent surfaced.
A perfect combination.
A few more minutes that seemed like an eternity. He made himself rose blend tea and waited. The second timer sounded after what seemed like forever.
Second combination, a swirl, he wasn’t sure how well this one was going. There wasn’t anything that exhibited a change.
The last timer was the longest, and he felt, the most painful. The final combination. He combined the remaining two flasks together and swirled them gently. The fumes were ghastly, but they dissipated quickly, to reveal the deep red of the healing potion.
He had needed so many lately… And others needed them too. They didn’t have his distillation system but perhaps he could distribute his formula, then again, some of the modern potion combinations were more potent than what he had made, but he had more variants that might be useful.
He placed the potion on the cooling platform, and sat down to have a biscuit. Ten more to go.