Poor Unfortunate Soul

Four

So, yes, I made the potion. I put it in my best bottle. (Well, it hasn't really done anything just yet, but when I bought it, the merchant claimed that, and I quote, "it is so charmed with good luck, you will have anything you want when you drink from it!" So phony. I know.)

"Now, the dreaded part. Sweetie, I'm so sorry." "It's okay. I'll do anything for him." And that, my friends, is the line that killed me. She was so naive, so young, so... so innocent.

"Any last words?" "Yes. Thank you."

She opened her mouth, waiting. I got the bone-knife. I cleaned it. I went to her. I cut her tongue. It bled. I offered to bandage it. She refused. She cried.

At least she can talk with her eyes. They're so full of emotion. So full of... sadness. Too full, even.

I gave her the potion and she swam away. And that's the last I've seen of her.