by Eric Vall
“Okay, everything appears to be in order,” the receptionist said. “We’ll have your brother out in a few minutes. In the meantime, please have a seat.”
“Thank you so much,” replied Layla as she bowed her head in gratitude. It was strange for me to see her so civil and polite. Not that she was a brutish or rude person, but she usually had an attitude that I found endearing, though others were probably put off by it. I simply chalked it up to nerves and her not wanting to get in any trouble.
So we took a seat amongst the other people that had been waiting for Maker knows how long. I hoped we wouldn’t be waiting for hours, but that wouldn’t shock me in the slightest. Thankfully, it wasn’t an hour, but it was still about half of one before we were seen to.
There was a bang on the locked-up steel door. The guard sitting next to it stood and undid the locks before pulling it open. Waiting for them was another guard with his hand around the arm of a young man. This was obviously Logan Bethel.
The similarities between him and Layla were obvious. He had the same large amber eyes, a similarly petite nose, the same shade of brown hair which was as long as hers, though his was greasy and tied into a bun, and their skin was the same golden brown. That’s where the similarities ended though since he was half a head taller, with a chiseled jaw, a large mouth, and a scraggly beard that looked like the result of him not being allowed to shave.
When his eyes found Layla, they lit up. “Ah, sister! How good to see you again.” He turned to the guard next to him. “Get these damn things off of me already!” he barked with a scowl and raised his chained hands impatiently.
The guardsman grimaced. “Watch it, gutter scum. I’ll throw you right back in there.”
Logan scoffed but didn’t offer a retort. The guardsman fished a keyring from his belt and undid Logan’s wrist cuffs, and he wasted no time in getting them off. As they clattered loudly to the floor, Logan rubbed his wrists, which were red, raw, and chafed from the tight iron. I imagined that it hadn’t been a pleasant experience having to wear those.
“Thank you kindly,” he growled sarcastically.
Layla’s brother stretched his limbs and groaned with each movement as if he’d been huddled up for months unmoving. Once he was done, he swaggered over to us, a crooked toothy smile playing out across his face.
“Little Layla,” he said and pulled his sister into a hug. Layla stiffened ever so slightly, I doubted Logan caught it, but I did. She hesitated briefly before hugging him back.
“Long time no see, Logan,” she replied in a hushed tone. It was almost reserved, defeated. This wasn’t the girl I knew.
He pulled back and held her out in front of him by her shoulders. His eyes surveyed her up and down. “You look like you’ve had many full meals and comfortable nights of sleep in expensive beds.”
She gritted her teeth. “Not all of us went to jail and had to sleep on the cold stone floor, brother.”
He chuckled. “No, I suppose not, little summoner.” His eyes flitted past hers and onto mine. He gave me a once-over. “And who might you be?”
I straightened up, jutted out my chin, and puffed out my chest. I was bigger than him in almost every way, but still, he seemed like the cocky type that wouldn’t bow to someone bigger than him no matter what. I walked over to him and put out a hand to shake, giving him a sincere smile.
“I’m Gryff, a friend of Layla’s from the Academy,” I said matter-of-factly. His eyes narrowed as he shook my hand. He squeezed my hand hard, trying to show off, but then I squeezed harder, which made him grimace briefly before he rolled his eyes and chuckled.
“Layla with friends? I’m shocked.”
Layla scoffed next to me but didn’t say anything to defend herself, which again was quite bizarre for her. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“Excellent, I do long to see mom and dad,” he exclaimed, punctuated by a clap of his hands.
So Layla ushered him out quickly before he could cause any more trouble. As we emerged from the prison and out into the Enclave air, Logan dropped to his knees and put his hands heavenward. He beamed and whooped.
“Oh, fresh air, sweet, sweet, fresh air. How I have missed you.” He laughed and turned his head to the brick path that led from the entrance to the gate and beyond. We allowed him to take his time. I imagine that being confined to a jail cell for months and years wasn’t pleasant, but I couldn’t help my smirk. If he thought this was fresh air, then I couldn’t imagine how bad it must have smelled in that prison. Because the air out here was the very opposite of fresh.
Logan suddenly popped to his feet and strode away which forced Layla and me to march after him. We practically jogged down the hill we’d just come up before we stopped back in Dallham Square. Logan stopped and breathed in deep, then released it a moment later with an overly exaggerated exhale.
“I missed this,” he said. Then he turned to me. “How’s this compared to your snooty life, Gryff?”
I crossed my arms and furrowed my brow. “Not much different, since I’m an orphan from the wilds, in case my accent didn’t give me away.”
He blinked at me, frowned, and stroked his chin. “Huh, so that’s what I was hearing.”
“Yeah, so trust me,” I said with a suppressed sneer, “this is more my speed than the lavish meals and comfy beds of the Academy.”
He gave me a cold stare back but then chuckled. “Fair enough then,” Logan said dismissively. It was obvious that he was bored with me already. I got it though, what was the point of antagonizing someone who’d had it as bad as you? He wanted to harass a noble, a pampered blue blood like Gawain. I wasn’t that, but I knew the feeling. I would have loved to see him have a go at Madox. That was something I’d pay good money for.
It was late afternoon when we finally came to their house. After we traveled down several streets and turns, we stopped in the middle of a narrow street where the two adjoining buildings on either side of the street leaned so bad that they almost touched in the middle of the space between them. Large wooden beams were erected at odd angles and propped up against the buildings to keep them from shifting any further. Honestly, though, they didn’t look like they were helping in the slightest. The walls were made of cracked plaster and stucco.
Logan stepped toward the building to our right. He ignored the main door, opting to skirt into the narrow alley on the side of the building. There he ascended a rickety staircase that went as high as my neck and ended in a chipped door that was covered in faded red paint. Logan looked back at us with a mischievous grin.
“It’s good to be home,” he said and then kicked open the door before striding in like a conquering king.
“You see what I had to live with?” Layla quipped.
“Yeah, he seems like a great guy.” I shrugged. “I can’t wait to spend more time with him.”
She snorted. “Try living with him for eighteen years, then you’ll change your tune.” She walked past me and waved for me to follow. “Come on, let’s go meet the folks.”
We followed Logan into Layla’s childhood home. It was a tight room, packed with old furniture and not enough space. The room was hazy and reeked of tobacco smoke and alcohol, but I supposed that was better than the smell outside. There were candles everywhere in clumps of melted wax, giving the room a flickering glow. A collection of empty beer bottles covered a small table near a chipped door that hung loosely on its hinges. Next to that was a small alcove that led to a narrow stairway.
“I’m home!” Logan exclaimed which prompted Layla and me to roll our eyes and snort.
“It’s about damn time,” a gruff voice from another room said. There was an open doorway that led to what looked like a small kitchen, and from there, a large man waddled out. He was rounder than Rori was, with stained clothes and a messy beard that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a long time, if ever.
Logan gave him a hug. “It was awful in there.”
“Trust me, I know, boy.” Her father then looked to Lay
la. “Thanks for bringing him back, girl.”
Her lips set in a severe line. “Sure, dad.”
Then he looked to me. “Who’s your friend?”
“Gryff,” she explained. “He goes to the Academy too.” She turned her head to me while nodding toward the older man. “Gryff, this is Lenn, my father.”
I put out my hand. “Pleased to meet you,” I gave him my warmest, most charming smile. Well… maybe not the most charming, since I saved those for wooing the ladies, but this was right below that.
“Likewise,” he replied with an almost hostile look.
Before we could say anything further, a woman’s voice echoed from the same kitchen. “Oh, is Logan home?”
Out came a woman who I could only assume was Layla’s mother. She was gaunt, with sallow cheeks and heavy bags under her beady eyes that weren’t at all like Layla’s. Her mom had a slight shiver as she walked, and she constantly scratched at her arms covered by her long sleeves. Her smile for Logan was genuine, but it faded when her eyes turned to Layla.
“Oh, hello, darling.” Her voice was dismissive.
Layla sighed. “Hi, mom.” She gave her mother a tentative hug, then she indicated toward me. “This is my friend, Gryff. Gryff, this is my mother, Harra.”
So we went through the same spiel of handshakes and greetings, me saying, “Pleased to me you,” I tried to stay sincere, but so far Layla’s family hadn’t impressed upon me a friendly and welcoming nature. Still, I’d be nice, since it was my nature. Once that was done, Layla looked like she was about ready to bolt, but I doubted it would be so easy. She couldn’t just pop in to see her family after months and not expect to stay awhile.
But she tried. Layla cleared her throat and thumbed at the door we’d come through. “Well, it’s getting late, we should probably get back to school.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Harra said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I have dinner almost ready.” She crossed her arms and gave her daughter a nasty glare. “Unless our food is no longer good enough for you.”
Layla bristled, her cheeks growing warm. “N-no. No, it’s fine. We can stay.”
“Good to hear.”
So we had dinner at the Bethel residence. We had to wait through an hour of awkward silence and small talk before Harra was finished with the food. I gave her credit, it smelled good, so I hoped it tasted as good. We crammed into their kitchen which doubled as a dining area. One wall was dominated by a messy sink filled with dishes crusty with old food. There was a dirty stove and a small hearth that was unlit.
We all piled around the worn wooden table on the far wall and took a seat. Harra served us all our plates, piled high with baked beans, rolls of bread, and some soup. As I dug in, I was surprised by how good it was. Thank goodness.
We ate in silence for a while, maybe for the best, but I decided to break the ice. My curiosity had got the best of me.
“So, Logan, what were you in prison for?”
He pointedly stared at me and waited to finish chewing before answering. That would have been fine, but he really took his time. I figured this might have been a touchy subject when I asked it, but I also had the impression that he may actually take pride in it, and that it would be something he would be happy to discuss.
Instead, he glared. “What’s it to you?”
I put my hands up defensively and offered a light chuckle to defuse him. “I’m genuinely curious. I assume it wasn’t anything serious if they let you out.”
“Hmm,” he grunted. He took a sip of his drink before answering. “I was caught burgling a neighbor’s house.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “He owed me money, and I was looking for it.” He kept eating with a satisfied smirk as if it was no big deal at all.
I scrunched my brows and frowned. “Oh, well… that... makes sense.”
He snorted. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, mage.”
Layla put a hand out to settle him down. “Easy, Logan.”
He stuck out his tongue at her before he turned his gaze to me. “Have you ever been to prison, Gryff?”
All of their gazes were curious and slammed into me. I felt as if they’d be disappointed if I said no. Layla was even curious. So I plastered a grin on my face and scratched the back of my neck as I gave them the truth.
“Well, I’ve never done serious time, but I’ve had to spend a few nights here and there in the local lockup for drunk and disorderly conduct, maybe the occasional bar fight.”
Layla laughed. “That sounds about right for you.”
Lenn nodded, looking almost impressed. It was odd that I almost felt satisfied with gaining some approval from him. I got the feeling Layla didn’t want me anywhere near her family, but here we were. I would make the best of it. As I said, I would charm them. If not for my sake then for hers.
“I’ve been in a few scrapes myself from time to time,” her father said with a chuckle that was punctuated by a smelly alcohol burp.
Layla bumped my shoulder and smiled. “Gryff is an amazing fighter too, top of our class in hand to hand combat.”
“Why would they teach you that when you can just use magic?” Logan scoffed.
“Well, there are situations where we could be low on mana,” I began. “Or times where it isn’t appropriate to use magic, like in a bar fight for instance.”
Logan nodded, but he grumbled as if he didn’t see the point.
“So, Gryff, what did you do before you joined the Academy?” Layla’s father asked. He picked at his teeth, trying to get some lodged food out.
I tapped my fingers against the table. “I was a laborer in the wilds. My mentor and I went from town to town helping people with our monsters in whatever way we could. Mostly menial labor, like building houses and clearing forests and the like.”
“Huh, so you left your family for a cushy life like our little girl here? Must be nice.” Her father glared at me.
I tried not to be nauseated by his condescension and did my best to hold my tongue and remain calm. Layla looked straight ahead, but I could see how tense she was. She was struggling to keep her emotions in check.
“Um, no,” I corrected. “I’m an orphan. I’ve been traveling with the man who raised me for a few years now, but I was recently discovered by the military, and they made me join the Academy.”
Lenn twirled his spoon around his soup. “Ah, I see.” It was like he didn’t really hear me. “Seems to me you abandoned your mentor, just like we were abandoned by our own daughter.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’ve explained this to you, I didn’t have a choice.”
“That’s wrong, you abandoned us!” Harra snapped suddenly.
“Yeah,” Logan chimed in. He leaned back in his chair and seemed content to sow familial strife. “The military doesn’t conscript people.”
Layla slammed her hand against the table. “Bullshit! I didn’t have a choice! The military rounded me up without so much as a word.”
Her dad snorted. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”
“It’s true,” I chimed in. “All people with magic must at least be evaluated by the military. If deemed useful, they must go to their nearest Academy for four years, and then complete military service for four to five years.”
Lenn scoffed. “Nonsense. The government can’t force people to fight. She chose to go there because she didn’t want to be here anymore.”
“Unbelievable,” I said with a sigh.
Layla’s fists clenched. She looked about ready to explode, her skin was so red. “That’s beside the point. What pisses me off is that Logan got your son killed and himself thrown in prison, but you welcome him back like nothing ever happened. You act as if Nathan never existed.”
“Don’t say his name,” Harra barked. “I don’t want to think about it.”
“He existed, mom! You can’t run from it.”
Her mother stood up. “At least your brother is loyal. He’s made mistakes, but he always comes home. Not like you, always staying away, n
ever wanting anything to do with us. You ran away to your precious school while we had to deal with the fallout of losing both your brothers. It’s like you didn’t love us or even love Nathan.”
Layla stood abruptly, her face trembling with rage, and her legs caught the edge of the table, making the dishes and silverware rattle.
“How fucking dare you say that,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ve never cared about me. You’ve always ignored me and treated me like crap for years, well before everything happened. You in a drug haze and dad always blindingly drunk while your sons run around getting into deep trouble. But I’m the one you still make miserable.” She gave them a harsh laugh. “I didn’t abandon you, but you know what? If I’d had the choice, I would have left, because what’s the point of staying with a family that doesn’t give a shit about you?”
“Well, that’s because you’re--”
“You know,” I said, cutting off her father. “We wouldn’t be here if she didn't want to have you in her life.” I shook my head. “I’m so disappointed in you.”
Her father took a long swig of his drink as he studied me. “Well, who asked you? I don’t remember inviting a wilder mage here to judge us.”
I grimaced. “No, I suppose you’re right, sir,” I spat that last word with as much venom and sarcasm as I could possibly muster. “Have a good night,” I said with one last smile. Then I grabbed Layla’s hand and strode from the kitchen. “Come on, Lay. Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah,” she said as she followed me out the front door. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I asked once we were back outside, my voice low and concerned.
She made this laughing sound that was half a sob. “What kind of stupid fucking question is that, Gryff?”
I grinned. “Yeah, that was probably a poor choice of words.” I put an arm around her shoulder as she fingered a small little bear the size of her palm that I’d seen clipped to her bags and belt before. I never thought much of it, but she looked at it now with such sadness that it made my heart ache.
