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Chapter 3: Goblin
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... or, 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.
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