In the early morning, Fritz and Marcelle had taken over their cramped room. Ada and Neva left earlier to sign up for the UFL. Marcelle by her alchemical setup. Four red healing potions were set before her on the floor.

"Is that all you have left?" Fritz asked.

"Mhm." Marcelle grunted in acknowledgment.

Fritz moved next to her. Leaning forward he tried to see past the black mass of her long hair.

"So how are we going to make money?" Fritz asked.

"I can sell some of my potions. I am quite skilled, my potions might fetch a high price."

"We only have four left."

"Yes, but with the profits, we can simply re-invest the money and brew more."

Fritz stared at the vibrant red color of the potion. To think, the liquid had been able to suture his wound nearly instantly. What was once a sizable wound, vanished completely with the potion. For Ada, it had fixed her concussion after a few minutes. Fritz uncorked the glass bottle. Positioning his nose above the bottle he inhaled the scent of the potion. It smelt like a light summer's breeze. The vague scent of strong herbs followed. Just inhaling it, Fritz felt the invigorating effects of the potion.

"Can I try something?" Fritz asked.

"You think it would work?" Marcelle asked. She turned towards him. Between her long bangs her serious purple eyes studied him. "Potions are magical. Most conjurers cannot produce magical items."

"It's worth a shot." Fritz said with a half smile. "I might need a taste though."

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"Hmmm.... All right. We'll keep that one for ourselves."

"We'll never know for sure, unless we try. Right Marcelle?" Marcelle nodded sagely towards him.

Fritz brought the potion to his lips. Gently he let the runny liquid touch his lips. Despite how glorious it smelled, the potion tasted like grass. Fritz's face scrunched up as he let the horrid flavor set in his mouth. Tingles of healing magic radiated through his tongue and into his body. He felt the faint magic flood him, radiating like a soft caress.

"When I first drank it, I half expected it to taste like cherries. Even now, it's just disappointing."

"Ha! So did I when I first learned the potion."

Fritz set the potion down. Fixating on the potion, he conjured the mental image of the small bottle in his mind. Satisfied, he closed his eyes as he imagined the smell, taste, and texture of the healing potion next. Bringing his focus into his core, he began willing his magic to shape the object. Mana traveled through him into his right hand. Elation filled him as the energy left his body, and permeated in the real world.

He opened his eyes. In his right hand an identical red liquid sloshed in the bottle. Fritz reached down to uncork it. Smelling it, he let the scent of nature waft towards him. He breathed in deeply enjoying the invigorating aroma. He handed the vial to Marcelle. With long, sharp nails she delicately took the vial. Bringing the potion towards her, she tentatively sipped the concoction. Fritz watched her with growing impatience.

"Well? Is it any good?" He asked.

"The taste, and smell are correct." Marcelle started. "There is one more important test." Bringing her thumb towards her mouth she dragged the soft flesh against her teeth. Flesh ripped and a sheen of blood glistened on her thumb. Holding her hand out, Marcelle dripped a few drops of the red liquid onto her cut thumb. Grabbing a piece of cloth she wiped away the bead of blood.

"Well?" Fritz asked again.

"It's...." Marcelle trailed off. Her expression hardened as she looked at her thumb. Marcelle's mind whirled as she stared at her healed thumb.

"It's what? Spit it out!" Fritz said.

"Perfect. It's a perfect replication, Fritz." Marcelle turned towards him. Her long bangs obscured parts of her face. A creepy smile spread across her lips.

"Great! That's great!"

"Yes, it's perfect Fritz. Now, I won't have to brew all day and night. You're the perfect assistant Fritz."

"You can count on me, Marcelle!" Fritz gave the lamia a thumbs up.

"Now, make thirty of them and quickly. Alchemists have such annoying business hours."