The Way Back Home's

Runaway Kid's

Christo sat in the waiting room. His eyes glared to the ceiling. But, it was definitely not daydreaming because when Farrell emerged from the passageway, he immediately stood up. “Farrell, is everything okay?”

Farrell had no idea what was on his face at the time until Christo asked. He just smiled thinly. Christo no longer asked, waiting for him to move first. So, he asked. “You know enough about the world of magic, ‘kan?”

“Lumayan, I was born here.”

“You said that Milo and Libby were under the influence of a magic potion. That is, there must be a way to reverse its influence. Another magic potion, perhaps? Some kind of antidote?” guess Farrell. Christo nodded. He continued, “You know someone who can make potions like that?”

“I know one two such stores in the capital.”

“Take me there.”

Christo. But, deep down, Farrell had a hunch that things wouldn't go that easy. Otherwise, Christo would have brought them the antidote from the beginning. Farrell knows Christo can be trusted. It made him wonder more things. As they walked out, Farrell decided to ask the hotel employee's background.

“You helped me run from Denise and meet dad. You also said you'd help me get Eden’s Lodge unsold. Wh why? I don't think it's for fear of losing a job or something.” Farrell expressed his opinion while following Christo's faster pace.

“Should I answer your question?”

They passed through various shops and passed by many people. The city's busyness confused him. Without maps and road signs, Farrell would be lost here. Instead, Christo seemed to have memorized the ins and outs of the place. Christo would occasionally have to wait for Farrell not to fall far behind.

“I'm just curious. After all, you know a lot about my family. About father and uncle, Eden’s Lodge, along with the magic portal. And I don't know anything about you. Don't you think I have a lot of reasons not to believe you?”

Christo glanced at Farrell after he said that sentence. “If you don't believe me, you can go now.” The two left the sidewalk of the main road and turned into a small deserted alley. “It's a shortcut. Without people and dark. I can poison you like Denise or even kill you.”

“True.”

“And you keep following me.”

Farrell turned his shoulders. “Believe it's a choice. You helped me this far and you're not killing me now. I think that's reason enough for me to believe.”

Christo chuckles. “You are like your father, too good.”

Farrell looked around. They are in a hallway flanked by the walls of the house on the left and right sides. The wall is made of stone. The size is smaller than the size of the stone composing the road where they stand today. The lights hung at the top, dangling from end to end through a rope. The lamp is the same as the lamp on the bridge. The mechanism may be the same.

Christo finally returned to talk after they had been silent for a long time. “Your father once saved me while running away from home.”

“Bur from home? You?”

“I was about six or seven years old. I ran without direction. I was in the snow, alone, scared, cold. Then I met them. Unforgettable meeting of my life.” Christo lowered his steps and looked up at one wall painted red.

“Not. The wolves.” Christo looked back ahead. “I met a group, not like we met yesterday. They attacked me and I think you can guess the continuation.”

“My father helped you?”

“Your father found me. At first I thought he was just a hero. She's not a witch, but she's a little girl from a magical animal. He didn't bring a stick or a book. He also did not cast magic spells or create fireballs. He is just an ordinary person with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other.”

“I just found out dad can use the sword.”

“Actually can not at all.” Christo turned right on the front alley. The atmosphere is still similar to the wall of the house on the side and right and the rope lights hanging above. “I've only seen people use such swords for the first time. He sucks and is very lucky for not cutting off his own hands or feet.”

“So, how did dad save you?”

“Drill and sword. I think we were lucky then. My attacking wolf is not a full-grown wolf. Only three little wolves. Your father kicked them out while swinging a torch. As I recall, there was one wolf whose face was hit by a torch at that time. They escaped. Before they returned to bring another wolf, your father took me to Eden’s Lodge. At the time, the building was not yet large. Only a small cottage contains several rooms. The glass cracked and the wooden door was porous. The cottage was clearly different from my house. But, for some reason, I feel safe.” Christo paused for a while and continued, “This story bored you. I better stop.”

“Absolutely no,” says Farrell fast. “Continue.”

“If I remember, your father is just like you. Nor did he urge me to tell him about my family, how I got there, and where I wanted to go. He gave me food and shelter.”

“Then, you finally told yourself your story?” Farrell asks Christo to be clear that he is listening to his story.

“Kot more like that. Your father offered me to work for him. He said he wouldn't urge me to come home and I'm free to be there if I want to work for him. Yeah, I think that's how the story goes I got stuck in Eden’s Lodge.”

“My father should not hire minors,” Farrell chirped.

To his surprise, Farrell smiled amusedly. “That's his little boy's fault. He can run from the inn too if he wants.”

“How about your family?” Farrell hurriedly added, “I was just wondering if you've contacted them again. Because I think your residence is not far from Eden’s Lodge. Kids can't run that far. But. You don't have to answer this if you don't want to. It's your personal thing.”

“Actually, I myself have meddled in your personal affairs. So, I guess we're even.” Christo took another turn to the left alley. “My family is a witch family. They make their living by bouncing things. For example, accuracy-enhancing spells for arrows, anti-breaking spells for rope, and such. My family doesn't like me because I suck at magic. Instead of making his things better, I destroyed them. Every day my father was angry with me and my mother was nagging, my brothers were also bullying me. My house is hell. I think I better run.”

“Your family doesn't like you just because you suck at magic?” Farrell is well aware that some time ago, he himself grumbled because he was helped by employees who could not magic.

“Farrell, in this world, magic is everything. In the true sense. It was everyone's most desired talent and capital gained a wide variety of jobs. Magic sustains this world. Dislike of family to me is natural. Very reasonable. It is strange that otherwise. I'm an untalented kid who was born one in a hundred thousand.”

Farrell shook his head. “Ngak, Christo. Families should accept each other. I think you should be proud of that one hundred thousand appeal.”

Christo chuckles. “Your words would be great if they were written in book.” Christo stopped in front of a red door made of metal. This door is located a few meters from the mouth of the alley. “We get to.”