Hypothesis, execution, and observation regarding research: The observation part always made Aroza's blood sing along to whatever song the music recorder played. One could only predict the procedure of an experiment so much, but in the end, one never knew what would happen before it happened.
As she pinched the stem of the Joba plant before her with the tip of a syringe, anticipation prickled her tongue.
As she squeezed the handle, the muddled green potion bubbled inside the syringe.
The ingredients of the potion reacted with each other. Seeing this Aroza continued the experiment undeterred. This side effect was normal by destabil potions. There was nothing to worry about.
Of course, her academy teacher would have different thoughts. If this had occurred during a demonstration in potions class back then, she would have gotten a bad mark and a lecture about the proper handling of ingredients.
Classic Alchemy as taught in the academy dictated a strict following of protokol. Follow the recipe. This was enough for the majority of students as they would never dig deeper into the wonders of nature than the roots of grass.
Aroza swallowed a laugh. If the teachers knew about her research, they would fight the others for the privilege of being the first to drag her back to their research lair.
Her goal was to artificially raise the level of the blue element inside the Joba plant's fruit from 1 to 2. The academy's register had no recollection of such an experiment ever being attempted.
The Joba was the magical sibling plant of the common tomato. In the Empire of Canvas, every common plant had a magical sibling plant. Joba and tomato shared the same form, just that the joba had seethrough skin and blue flesh with a consistency akin to slime filling it. In nature, only one in a hundred harvested Joba fruit had level 2 blue element and one in a thousand had level 3.
The better the Level the higher the quality.
Especially nobels with a lot of mana like herself relied on high-level ingredients. So if she could create a potion that could be used in gathering missions to enhance the found ingidience, her missions would end quicker and she would have a use for the scrap ingredients that were useless to her otherwise.
Suddenly the Joba plant leaves started to shake. Aroza dislodged the syringe and stepped back. The shaking intensified and the sound of multiple choking birds singing desperatly emitted from the plant. It overshadowed the soft vocals playing behind her. In the blink of an eye, numerous new leaves sprouted, developing quickly from little cusps into full-fledged leaves. The plant looked like it needed a visit from the hairdresser. The singing stopped indicating that the reaction finished and the plant stopped shaking.
Aroza smiled joyously that this time she didn't outright poison the plant. This was the kind of progress, she thirsted for.
Although, the Joba plant seemed to be a lazy fellow. It looked like sprouting a new set of leaves is less strenuous than leveling up the fruit.
The path of least resistance was the most favored of all.
She disassembled the syringe, paying attention not to touch the contaminated needle, threw it into a bowl with instant clean potion, and wiped her hands with a violet cloth. The embroidered magic circle cleaned her hands without leaving stains on the fabric.
In the corner of her lab far from her working surface a desk with a heating pad was waiting for her. Aroza circled stacked high boxes. Her eyes locked on the prize being displayed. A half-eaten pepperoni pizza. The ideal research snack. The closer she came the more the smell seduced her brain. After nearly falling over a bundle of bound papers, she selected a slice watching the cheese from taunt sings before they snapped.
As she bit into it, the dough cracked, the cheese strings stuck to her chin and the sourness of the tomato-basil sauce drove her tastebuds to dance fanaticly.
While chewing she focused more intently on the music playing. The piano sounds mixed with her musician Ilsa's voice melted her heart. Hearing her live spelled disaster for one's composure. She could easily make a room of people cry.
A gentle breeze coming from the open window caressed her cheeks
What a perfect day.