He grabbed the handle, exhausted, trying not to collapse. This was a journey he was willing to die for, he was not about to give up now. He was willing to accept whatever happened, it was his destiny. Suddenly, he pulled his hand away from the handle, braced himself against the wall and slid to the floor. He had not run out of courage, he assured himself of that.
The words of a wise man kept ringing in his head, “You must not let your fears overcome you. They can sense it; they will use it against you. Men consumed by their fears stand no chance in a journey of such importance.” He had seen such men, men consumed by their fears; the exhaustion that lived deep in their eyes gave them away.
He took a deep breath, looking at his hands, realizing he still had the charm. According to legend it was one of the only things that could subdue such a beast and allow his people to rest again. “I can do this,” he repeated in his head.
In a single motion he stood and opened the door. Before he could produce another thought he was immersed, standing face to face, staring into its eyes.
“Here’s your pacifier son, now lay down we all need to get some sleep.”