The shelves shifted around him, endless rows of stacked bookshelves swirling around him like pieces of broken mirrors until they all ultimately came to a halt.
Jacob had already sat down in anticipation of what was to happen next. This was how it always went when he had spoken to the consciousness of other people. Link would be no different. He waited, his breathing calm and flowing like peaceful waves across the ocean bed, devoid of turbulence.
He blinked once, and by the time his eyes were open again, there was a man sitting before him with a straight, empty expression. The man had a graying beard that was firmly plastered and neatly placed on his chin, a wrinkled face that suggested he had died only of old age. He wasn't too short, but he wasn't too tall either.
