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.
"So, uh, about this curse," he said, his voice wobbling.
"You said it's blocking your magic? And I'm supposed to… fix it?" He swallowed hard, the word arousal echoing in his mind. He'd never even held hands with a girl, let alone done anything remotely intimate. The thought of his magic being tied to that made his face burn.
Saria nodded, her expression unchanging.
"My magic is fire-based. It's how I protect Eldwood. But Vraxus's curse sealed it." She paused, her fingers brushing the hilt of her sword. "You're the healer Granny Elda summoned. Your magic can break it."
Granny Elda snorted, leaning on her staff. "If he doesn't faint first," she muttered, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Leon shot her a nervous glance. "I'm not gonna faint," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"Just… tell me what I need to do. Like, step by step. I'm new to this whole 'saving the world' thing." He forced a weak smile, hoping it hid the fact that he was about two seconds from bolting.
Saria's eyes narrowed slightly, the closest thing to a reaction he'd seen.
Without a word, she reached for the laces of her leather tunic and began untying them. Leon's brain screeched to a halt.
"W-Wait, what are you doing?" he stammered, his face turning the color of a ripe tomato. His eyes darted to Granny Elda, who was cackling like a villain in a bad anime.
"Relax, boy," Saria said, her tone as dry as ever.
She pulled the tunic open, revealing a lacy black bra that strained against her full, firm breasts.
Between them, a glowing red tattoo pulsed like a heartbeat, shaped like a coiled serpent. "This is the curse," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "It's bound to my chest. You need to touch it to feel its magic."
Leon's mouth went dry, his eyes glued to the tattoo—and, embarrassingly, everything around it.
He'd only seen breasts in hentai, and now here was Saria, standing there like it was no big deal, her skin smooth and warm-looking under the crystal light.
His pants tightened, and he shifted in the chair, praying she didn't notice.
"T-Touch it?" he squeaked, his voice hitting a pitch he hadn't heard since puberty. "Like, just… put my hand there?"
Saria's face didn't change.
"Yes. Sit on the altar. Close your eyes and focus on the curse, not… anything else." Her tone was sharp, like she knew exactly where his mind was going.
Granny Elda chuckled, hobbling to a shelf. "Oh, this'll be good. Don't grope the girl, boy. She'll gut you."
Leon scrambled onto the altar, his hands shaking so badly he nearly fell. Saria stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. She smelled faintly of leather and something spicy, like cinnamon.
He forced himself to look at the tattoo, not her bra, though his peripheral vision was screaming at him. "Okay, uh, I can do this," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Just a magic tattoo. No big deal."
Saria sat on the edge of the altar, her knees brushing his.
"Put your hand here," she said, guiding his trembling fingers to the tattoo. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft, and Leon's brain short-circuited again.
He closed his eyes, partly to focus, partly to avoid passing out from embarrassment.
At first, nothing happened. His palm pressed against the tattoo, and all he could think about was how close Saria was, how her breath was steady while his was ragged.
"Uh, am I supposed to feel something?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
"Focus," Saria said, her tone cutting through his panic. "Not on me. On the curse. Feel the energy."
Leon squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to ignore the heat of her skin.
He took a shaky breath, picturing the tattoo in his mind. Slowly, a sensation crept up his arm—not warmth, but something cold and inky, like oil seeping through his veins. His head spun, and the world around him faded.
A vision slammed into him. He was standing in a void, darkness stretching endlessly around him.
A shadowy figure loomed ahead, its face a blur except for glowing red eyes that burned into his soul. A low, guttural laugh echoed, sending chills down his spine.
Before he could react, three altars appeared, each glowing faintly.
The first held an orange fruit, round and pulsing with a soft light, like a tiny sun. The second showed a snarling green goblin, its scarred face twisted in rage, teeth bared.
The third displayed Saria's face, serene yet intense, her dark eyes staring straight through him. The vision shifted, the demon's laugh growing louder, and then it was gone.
Leon gasped, yanking his hand back. He was back in the chamber, Saria's tattoo still under his fingers. She was watching him, her face as blank as ever. "What did you see?" she asked, her voice steady.
Leon's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst. "Uh… a demon. Creepy eyes. And three altars. One had a fruit, one had a goblin, and one had… you."
He swallowed, his face still burning. "That's the curse, right? Those things are… connected?"
Saria nodded, pulling her tunic closed and tying it with practiced ease. "Good. You felt it. The curse has three components. We need to find them." She stood, her movements fluid but precise, like a soldier. "Granny, he's ready."
Granny Elda hobbled over, a jar of glowing mushrooms in her hands. "Not bad for a scrawny kid," she said, smirking. "Describe the fruit."
Leon blinked, still reeling from the vision. "It was… orange. Kinda glowing. Like a big tangerine, but shinier."
His voice was shaky, but he forced himself to focus. I can do this. I have to.
Saria's eyes flicked to the shelves. "A Solberry," she said, her tone matter-of-fact.
She crossed the room and plucked a fist-sized orange fruit from a shelf, its faint glow matching the one in his vision. "This is it. One down."
Leon stared at the fruit, his mind racing. "Okay, so… fruit, check. What about the goblin? And, uh, your face? What does that mean?" His voice cracked, and he winced, wishing he sounded less like a scared kid.
Saria's face remained expressionless. "The goblin's next. We have prisoners downstairs. You'll need to identify it." She turned toward a narrow staircase at the back of the chamber, her sword clinking softly. "Follow me."
Leon slid off the altar, his legs still wobbly.
The vision's demon face lingered in his mind, those red eyes burning into him. He glanced at Granny Elda, who was watching him with that same amused glint.
"Don't die, boy," she said, cackling. "You're just gettin' started."
Leon forced a shaky nod, trailing after Saria.
His hands were still trembling, and his mind was a mess of fear, embarrassment, and a tiny spark of excitement. He'd seen the curse, felt its power.
Maybe, just maybe, he could do this.
But as Saria led him down the dark staircase, the distant sound of snarling echoing up, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was in way over his head.