One hot summer day while out fishing, a tortle noticed a glint in the riverbed. Swimming down to grab the shiny treasure, the tortle heard a voice as from nowhere.
“Treat with Me.”
The tortle pulled at the glimmering treasure, disturbing a cloud of river sand, and again the voice said, “Treat with Me.”
Blinking, considering, the tortle held a thin gold chain that encircled an ampoule, sealed and ensorcelled, all wonder and malice.
“An ye treat with Me, then shall ye keep and bear my pow’r. No mountain shall bar you nor river drown you. Mortalkind shall fall to worship at thy knees. And in payment thou seek’st My liberation from this Ampoule.”
The tortle blinked, considering.