Chapter 2: The curse
Leon's heart was still hammering as he followed Saria through the heavy wooden door, his sneakers squeaking on the stone floor.
The weight of her words—Eldwood needed him—sat like a boulder on his chest.
I'm not cut out for this, he thought, wiping sweaty palms on his tunic.
I'm just a guy who yells at his screen when I die in a game.
Saria's stoic, expressionless face didn't help; her dark eyes seemed to judge every shaky step he took.
The chamber they entered was smaller, the air thick with the scent of herbs and old parchment.
Glowing crystals hung from the ceiling, casting a soft blue light over shelves crammed with jars of strange plants and what looked like a preserved octopus tentacle.
A wooden table dominated the center, littered with scrolls, a candle dripping wax, and a dagger that made Leon's stomach twist. Granny Elda shuffled in behind them, muttering under her breath about "foolish gods" and "useless boys."
Saria stopped by the table, turning to face Leon.
Her black ponytail swayed slightly, but her face remained a blank slate, like she was carved from stone.
"Sit," she said, her voice flat but commanding. Leon obeyed, sinking into a creaky chair, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He tried to meet her gaze but ended up staring at the table, his nerves screaming.