It was rough getting to the potion seller. I had wounds on my palms that needed proper care. 'Stupid wolves..' I scoff. 'We will take care of them once we get home.. but first..' my thoughts get cut off as I stand in front of the seller's door. I open it, reluctant.. But maybe.. Just maybe.. She'll have what I need. The scent of myrrh and a hint of dragon's blood welcomes me.
Browsing through the endless shelves of potion, a sweet woman, about twice my age or older, comes up from behind me. A light tap to my shoulder awakens me from my entranced state.
"I've got just the thing for broken hearts." She said, sensing why I came here.
She steps behind a counter, grabs a vial of black fluid, and eyes me expectantly. She looks down towards my palms, seething, angry, red fluid pools from them onto the oak floor.
"I'll take it." Eyes meet hers, my decision is clear.
A smirk alights her countenance. "You may take this.. But.."
"Let's not waste time, please.. Just hand me the damn vial." I interject. She rolls her eyes when I'm not paying attention.
Little did I know, what she had to say was for my well-being post-procedure. Annoyance written all over her face, she shrugs, handing over the vial. Its contents glimmering and swirling, shifting from black to an effervescent purple. "That'll be two cat's eye stones please."
I pay for the vial, pulling over my cloak, the shop door slams from behind me.
As soon as I get home, I take my cloak off and plop down into one of the wooden chairs. I tend to my palms first, a green healing potion seals the wounds shut.
I grab the black vial, which I now notice has a small paper attached, detailing exactly how this task must be done. I skimmed through it - rushing said procedure. Was this suicide? Quite possibly.
It was agonising what I had done to myself. I had just snipped the red string tied around my heart..