"One slice of beetroot mixed at the same time with one gram of four-leaved clovers of the tamarind tree," Rick looked over his glass at his notes. He was a dirty blond-haired boy of 17 with a tall yet lanky build like a willow tree. He was also the only one in his family to have his hair color, the others being orange or brown.
He scratched his chin in thought, "When they say put it as hot as possible for 10 minutes, how hot back then in 50 B.C they didn't really have a Bunsen burner." About two weeks ago the family had gotten back from a trip to Brittany in France visiting some relatives. It was a good trip, once Monty's motion sickness had stopped and his mom's ear infection had been cured. Rick had found out a local legend was that his family were descendants of druids.
Priests who brew potions are rumored to have supernatural properties.
A voice called from down the stairs, " Ricky. Dinner will be ready soon." his mom informed him.
He had no intention of just stopping in the middle of his experiment so he told a little white lie "Be there in five minutes!" He turned the Bunsen burned as high as possible, sending the odd mix bubbling harshly.
Whilst staying with his relatives he had helped dig some holes in the garden to be filled with seeds for later harvesting when he found a near-decomposed box with an equally decomposed yet still eligible document.
It was luckily he had his phone and was able to take a good-quality picture for the very next day a strong breeze tore the document the shreds. It took time to decipher the text as it was in an early French language. It was revealed to be a very detailed and bizarre brewing formula.
So that is why he was in his room with a small cooking pot over a blue hot Bunsen burner with a variety of seemingly nonsensical on the table. " I wonder when it's done," he looked at the last sentence on his translated notes, " Once bubbles start foaming and the liquid turns light green, blow before taking. Oh, it's ready then."
Something had just been nagging at the back of his mind about this, at first it was simple academic curiosity yet the more he went into unraveling this odd paper, the more a sense of obsession seemed to grow over him.
Almost like the page had cast a sort of spell on him.
Rick tunred off the burner before picking up a wooden spoon, stirring the contents of the pot like his mother had done to speed up the process of cooling.
"Well, are you coming or not?" his mom's tone broke no argument.
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