The bags under her eyes offer a stark contrast to the sparkling gaze which is held inside of them. This one here. This is the best one. By far. She had saved this one for last.

Fresh swirls the single, low-quality minor-antidote around in her hands. She had spent the night carefully using her magic to smooth the glass down into a shape, which is nearly perfect. This bottle looks like one that you could buy a ‘real’ potion in, down at the alchemist’s. Well, apart from the fact that the crystalline-glass is matte, instead of translucent.

Also, it still doesn’t have a lid. But that’s a secondary problem for now.

Birds sing in the trees outside on the plaza, as warm sunlight shines in through the, once again, closed window. The warm rays gently stroke her back, as she sits there with crossed legs and examines every inch of the bottle, to make sure that it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. She wants to present it to Jubilee soon.

Fresh had blessed the contents of the potion with her moonwater ability, during the night. It’s a strange feeling, blessing the liquid. In a sense, it had felt like she was draining her own energy to do it and it made her tired. But at the same time, energy from the moon came in to fill what was missing in her body. It was… the same, but different. Like water from two different lakes, not far apart from each other, meeting in a trench in the middle.

These can sell, thinks Fresh. They really could. They just need a little more elbow grease and they’ll be ready.

But that’s only one thing. The real seller, the real meat, she’s still preparing. Though, it should have soaked through by now… Fresh sets the antidote bottle down and pulls the pot of moonwater over towards herself, staring at the floating blue powder, that she had sprinkled inside of it. It’s the rest of ground-up, blue mushroom-cap. She had spilled a lot of it over Jubilee, but there was enough salvageable for this.

Fresh holds her hands above the metal pot, just as a pair of small boots make their way down the staircase.

(Fresh) uses: [Witch-Crafting: Minor soul-potion] [Witch-Crafting: 2]{Cauldron Bubble}

[Minor soul-potion](Low)

+ Restores 20% of SOUL

+5% SOUL Regeneration - 12 Hours

+10% SOUL - 12 Hours

+ Purges Corrupting Spirits

A minor soul-potion that restores some of a body’s inherent magical energy if drunk.

This potion is glowing with magical energies. Quality Effect: None Weight: 180 mL Value: ???

“You’re up early,” says Jubilee, walking over towards her and staring down at the pot. “- What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a minor soul-potion!” explains Fresh, excitedly. “I got it as my second witch-crafting recipe!”

Jubilee bends down to look at the blue, glowing substance swirling around inside of the pot. “What? No it’s not,” they say skeptically. “Why is it… why is it glowing? What are these extra values? What did you do? Soul regeneration? Corrupting… what? What the fuck am I looking at?” Jubilee gets up, groaning as they rub their eyes. “It’s too early for this.”

Fresh raises a finger and bobs her head from left to right with a sing-song tone. “Because of the moon-wat-er!” She leans in towards Jubilee. “I think it’s really good! Look!” she points at the item’s menu screen, which Jubilee was already, and still is, staring at. "It doesn't even have any side effects!"

“Twenty-percent soul is pretty dinky. Really low-level potion stuff,” they say, tilting their head and waving a hand idly towards her.

Fresh lowers her own hand and her gaze in disappointment. “Oh…” she turns her head to the side and rubs her arm. “Sor-“

Jubilee interrupts her. “- But these other stats together? Soul regeneration and a bonus to max soul-points for a full twelve hours? All together in one potion? That’s good. It more than evens out.”

“Huh?”

“How much did this cost to make?” they ask, looking back to her.

Fresh looks at them curiously. “Cost…? The moonwater is free and you made the glass for the bottle. The only cost we have is one blue-cap.”

“Well, fuck me. How many can you make from the one cap?” they ask.

Fresh thinks, rubbing her tired eyes. “Uh… I don’t know. I think they use up more of the cap if they’re bad quality?” she guesses. “My best ones are low-quality now. I think if I get lucky and only make them with low-quality, then I can get three potions per blue cap?” she suggests. “Maybe just two though.”

Jubilee thinks, their stance changing to one that is more loose and broad. “If we get some nice bottles and label these, they could really sell. Low-level casters will drool over this stuff!” they say, sounding unusually excited. ”Usually soul-potions are really expensive.”

“They are?” asks Fresh.

“Oh, yeah, the alchemists have the casters by the balls,” explains Jubilee. “Only the church gets a big discount on soul-potions. Everyone else has to pay out. A minor potion with thirty-percent soul will go for thirty Obols, easily.”

“THIRTY?!” asks Fresh, leaning forward and almost knocking over the pot. That seems absurd, especially for a low-level potion like these. Are soul-potions really so hard to make? Or is there just an artificial inflation of prices here in town?

“Yeah,” replies Jubilee. ”But since ours only have twenty-percent and we don’t have a reputation, nobody will pay that.” They think for a second, looking around the room. “If we lower the price a little, then we could make it back in numbers. Especially with these bonus values and since we have next to no costs.” Jubilee begins to pace, clearly on to something. “We’ll do the math later, but… fuck.” Jubilee looks back to her and nods approvingly. “Good job. You might really have something here.”

Fresh beams, clutching her hands together at the long-awaited praise. “Oh! Look!” She hands Jubilee the low-quality antidote. “I finished this one too!”

They spin it around in their hands. “Wow,” they say, holding it up to the light. “You did good on the bottle. I really like it! It really stands out. But…” They sigh and walk to the door, holding their hand out and pouring out the low-quality minor-antidote.

Fresh squeaks and clutches her hair in a panic. “What are you doing?!” she cries.

“It's impressive that you of all people made it, but nobody is going to buy a potion with these kinds of side-effects, dumb-ass. It’s worthless.” They shake the glass bottle out and walk back to Fresh, waving her off as they see her quivering lip. Jubilee bends down and dips the empty bottle into the pot, filling it up with the soul-potion. “The antidotes need some more work. But you did good with the bottle and you did great with the soul-potion. We might just be in business here soon.”

They swirl the bottle of glowing blue liquid around. “I know somebody who I can ask about this. Are you going to behave while I’m gone?” asks Jubilee, getting up. Fresh relents with a sigh, accepting this as a partial victory. But a victory nonetheless.

“Okaaay~” she sighs. In truth she’s already thinking about going to bed. Maybe she can open her window upstairs and just fall asleep in the sunlight? That sounds nice. Fresh yawns. It was a long night. Being a witch is exhausting. Maybe she needs to become a night-owl if she has to be up at night so often?

“Can the moonwater be used for other things too? Like crafting equipment and weapons?” asks Jubilee, heading back to the door.

Fresh nods and rises up to her feet, stretching and yawning. “I think so, the grimoire said something about that too,” she explains, covering her mouth. She makes a note to herself to extensively read her grimoire, which she has neglected to do so far.

“You really might end up being useful after all.” Jubilee nods to her. “Good night.”

The girl smiles and heads to the stairs, waving goodbye to her friend with a happy smile. “Good night.”

A moment later she goes upstairs, walking past the many still sealed doors and enters into the empty room, which is her own. Fresh feels happy. Tired, but happy. It was a long night. But she earned her friend’s approval. She finally did something right, she finally did something good. Fresh can’t help but let out another happy noise, as she pulls open the window to feel the bright sun on her cold face and she feels a new joy at the prospect of finally getting some sleep.

Fresh opens her eyes and stares out at the plaza. At the crowd of people all surrounding the fountain at the back of the dungeon-gate. All of them wear robes and dresses and the usual caster fare. All of them babble like the fountain, as they talk excitedly, as they all hang around the mildly-glowing, sparkling water. All of them look at it and each other. Happy, excited faces adorning each and every one of them, as they readily fill pouches and flasks by the dozens.

She jumps up in shock as a loud crash rings out from behind herself. Jubilee stands at the door to her room, their fingers straining as they clutch the handle tightly. Their eyes are open wide in angry, furious exasperation. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Fresh scratches her cheek, laughing meekly and taking a step back, the wall at her back. “I… I made moonwater… ?”