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“Kooost,” groaned Irona, “this is so boriiing!”
“You’re the one who asked to help.” The scientist himself stood on a stepstool, busying himself with various ingredients and a bunsen burner set on Irona’s kitchen counter. “Keep stirring it.”
Though she grumbled, Irona did as she was told. Kost had gone over the recipe before they began, so she knew what needed to be done to produce the right result. The pinewort had to be stirred counterclockwise for four minutes while being kept at exactly 48 degrees celsius; it had been drilled into her head so hard she could recite it asleep.
Meanwhile, Kost hummed to himself as he worked. He needed a specific flask clean for a speed potion, and he’d forgotten to clean it out before beginning. He loudly scooted his stool over to the sink to start scrubbing it, leaving his carefully portioned ingredients spaced out on the counter.
Predictably, Irona sneezed at everything, causing dried plants and powders to drift lazily into complete disarray.
The second Kost came back over with his freshly cleaned glassware, he knew what had happened. “Irona,” he questioned, his voice saccharine, “did you move the cloud essence?”
She glanced over at the counter. “No,” she lied.
Kost sighed, dragging his scale back over to measure everything a second time. “You’re lucky it has to go into the potion with the phoenix feather powder. I’d never be able to separate these back out.”
“Sorry! Can I-” Irona dropped her stirring spoon, reaching over to help, but Kost interrupted her.
“No! Keep stirring!” He pointed at the beaker in an accusatory fashion.
“Right, sorry!” She did as told.
The potion turned out awfully in the end, but Irona seemed proud of it. She’d had fun, even if it left Kost fuming at her incompetence. He should have asked for a better lab assistant! Not that he’d asked her to help—it was the other way around—but still! At least he hadn’t blown up her kitchen! Bad things tended to happen when Kost’s experiments went wrong, but this time all it did was release poisonous gas!