Chapter 72 The Bittersweet Gates
Xyra beamed at the sorcerer, relieved he hadn’t contested her suggestion. It had been years since she’d set foot in Clearham, and the itch to return was growing. She needed to remind the people there, and perhaps herself, that she was still alive and thriving.
"Miss Xyra?" Layton asked, pulling up alongside her. He was perpetually formal, maintaining a stiff politeness even toward a lowly thief like her. "Is there a particular reason you wish to visit Clearham?"
"Does it show that much?" she asked with a playful tilt of her head. Layton was always like this; observant, inquisitive, perhaps even suspicious. She couldn't tell if he was genuinely trying to befriend his master's companion or if he was just gauging how much of a threat she posed.
"It is a modest town," he stated flatly. "To put it simply, it’s quite poor. There isn't much to see."
"I know." Her bright expression softened into something more melancholic. "Clearham is my hometown." Surprise flickered in his brown eyes, a rare crack in his composure. "I want to see my parents, even if it's only for a moment. I need them to know that I'm okay."
Layton offered a nod of understanding but remained at her side as they followed Magnus. Their leader was always several paces ahead, which felt only natura as this was his journey, after all. He called the shots, and they were merely in his wake: Layton out of duty, and Sarah for the gold. She hadn't quite managed to start saving yet.
It didn’t take long to reach the outskirts of Clearham. Magnus paused, his expression shifting to disbelief as they stepped past the splintered wooden gate that marked the entrance. Calling it a town felt generous; it was more of an overgrown village where the houses were cramped and weather-beaten. Shutters dangled precariously from rusted hinges, and several doorways stood gaping and empty. The dark, water-stained timber gave the entire area a suffocating, gloomy air. It was a picture of absolute poverty, not a single soul here seemed to have the coin to spare for even a bucket of nails.
"Wow..." Magnus breathed, his voice tinged with shock rather than awe. "This place is literally crumbling."
"Yeah," Xyra sighed, her pace never faltering as she led them deeper into the decay. "It’s been this way since Vidar arrived. He bought the deeds to the land, but he paid the locals a pittance. They’re lucky if they can afford a meal, let alone repairs. The lack of travelers through here doesn't help, either."
"You seem remarkably well-informed," the sorcerer noted, his curiosity piqued. Xyra offered him a faint, knowing smile.
"That’s because I grew up here. These streets are mine."
She moved off with a new sense of purpose, and Magnus hurried to keep up. He had a sudden flurry of questions; if this was her home, her father had to be nearby. He needed to speak with him; there were things about the khukuri that only a local might know.
Beside him, Layton remained silent, his eyes scanning the rot. The wood of the buildings looked soft enough to crumble under a firm grip. It was clear to both men that these people couldn't survive like this much longer.
"This way," Xyra said, banking off the main road and down a narrow side street.
"Just where are we going?" Magnus asked, his voice sounding unusually loud in the stillness.
"I want to see my parents. I hope that's okay." Xyra didn't wait for an answer, though Magnus gave a quick nod of approval anyway. He wouldn't have refused her a visit, and honestly, he had questions of his own for the locals. But as they walked, a chill settled over him. The town was deathly quiet. No footsteps, no shouting merchants, and just an empty stretch of cobblestone.
Xyra came to a halt in front of a weathered, low-slung house. A small, hopeful smile tugged at her lips as she approached the door, while Magnus and Layton hung back, content to let her lead the way into her own past.
"Well, this is it," she murmured. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the wood. It had been a long time... maybe too long. When she finally gripped the handle, she pulled with a gentle touch, mindful of the sagging frame and the rusted hinges that looked ready to give way.
The door creaked open to a room draped in shadows, save for the flickering amber light of a few low-burning candles. The scent of melted wax and old wood met them. Someone was home, likely tucked away in the kitchen or one of the cramped bedrooms in the back. The entryway was modest, furnished only with a few mismatched chairs that had seen better decades.
"Mom? Dad?" Xyra's voice cracked the quiet of the entryway as she stepped further inside. "I’m home!"
A frantic shuffling echoed from the next room, followed by the rush of footsteps. Her parents appeared in the doorway; a woman with a spill of blonde hair and a man whose sharp blue eyes were a mirror of Xyra's own. The resemblance was striking; she carried her mother’s warmth but had clearly inherited her father’s rugged frame.
"Xyra?" Her mother’s expression changed, a radiant smile breaking through her shock. She didn't wait for an answer before throwing her arms around her daughter. "Oh, thank heavens. It’s been so long."
"I know, I know," Xyra murmured, squeezing back. "I’m sorry it took me this long to get back. Things... got busy."
"No need to apologize," her father added, his voice thick with cheer as he joined them. He placed a heavy, grounding hand on Xyra's shoulder. "Seeing you standing here, safe and sound... that’s all that matters."
As the initial blur of the reunion settled, her parents finally looked past her. Magnus and Layton stood awkwardly by the threshold, looking like two statues out of place in the modest home. They wore the universal expression of guests who weren't quite sure whether to stay or retreat.
"Xyra, dear," her mother prompted softly, her eyes gazing and flickering to the newcomers. "Aren't you going to introduce your company?"
"Oh! Right." Xyra turned, sheepishly realizing she’d left them hanging. She gestured toward the boys with a quick grin. "This is Magnus, and this is his guard, Layton."
Magnus offered a polite, if slightly stiff, greeting, while Layton responded with a silent, disciplined bow.
"A pleasure to meet you both," her mother said. "I'm Liv, and this is my husband, Nereo." Nereo gave them a curt, friendly nod, though his gaze quickly drifted back to Xyra. The relief in his eyes was plain to see; for years, they had lived with the quiet terror that she’d never survived the long road to Drester. Seeing her now wasn't just a surprise, but it was a miracle.
"Xyra," began Magnus, drawing her attention. "I'm going to take a look around the town. I'll be back in a bit, okay?"
"Alright." She watched as he left, followed by Layton, his ever faithful companion. The guard was pretty good at his job. However, Magnus was pretty strong. He didn't seem to need protection. The young sorcerer was also a bit careless at times though, so it was good to have someone like Layton to watch his back. The guard was a sorcerer as well, only not nearly as powerful. He was still useful though. He was very good at protecting people.
This left Xyra alone with her parents, both who were giving her rather odd looks. Her mother looked insanely delighted, and her father was grinning as if he knew something she didn't. Her parents were really starting to scare her. Just what were they thinking about? She was almost afraid to ask.
"Sarah," Lya chirped, her smile a little too bright to be innocent. "Who exactly is that young man?"
"I told you, his name is Magnus," Xyra replied. She was certain they had already covered the basics, but her mother had a way of forgetting the things she didn't want to hear.
"I mean, who is he to you? Are you two... married?"
Xyra choked on her own breath, a heat that had nothing to do with the hearth rushing up her neck. The assumption alone was enough to make her knees buckle. They had been through the door for all of two minutes; how could her mother already be picking out wedding fabrics?
"He’s just a friend, alright?" Xyra stammered, her voice rising in a desperate defense. "I’m only following him because he has heavy pockets."
Even as the words left her mouth, they tasted like a lie. Gold hadn't been her primary goal for a while now. The truth was simpler and far more dangerous: Magnus made life interesting. He was the first person in a long time who made the road feel like more than just a means to an end.
"Are you sure?" her father but in, his shoulders slumping with a touch of visible disappointment. "There’s nothing between you?"
"No!"