Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 219: The Journey Begins: Saying Goodbye

The morning broke with a dull gray light, and with it, a heavy silence lingered over Narra Alley.

Reya was inconsolable. Her small frame shook with sobs as she clung to Jethru’s sleeve, burying her face into the rough fabric as though it could tether her to everything she was leaving behind. She murmured brokenly between her tears, repeating how she would miss the two old men, the children, and her new friends—Thalia, Zeeta, and Leah—names that had only recently become precious to her.

"If you don’t want to go, then stay," Jethru snapped, though his voice lacked its usual bite. His brow was furrowed, his tone sharp, more from frustration than cruelty. "Why keep crying like it’s goodbye forever? You know Lara’s coming back. Unless you don’t want to come back with her."

At his words, Reya stifled her sobs, her chest still hitching. She lifted her tear-streaked face, eyes glistening, feeling aggrieved.

"Grandpa, you are so mean. Of course, I will come back." Her voice trembled, and for a moment, it seemed she might burst into tears again. But when she saw the stern expression on Jethru’s weathered face, something in her held back. The tears pooled, but refused to fall. "Still, I will miss you. Aren’t you going to miss me?"

Jethru just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest.

Not far off, Sandoz stood silent, shoulders stiff, his eyes darting between his sister and the people he’d grown to love. He would travel with Lara now, but what would happen when he arrived at the Capital? What came after this departure? He dreaded the silence that would follow, when home felt more like a cage than comfort.

Then, in a rush of emotion, Sandoz flung himself into Jethru’s arms, sobbing openly. His arms wrapped tightly around the old man’s waist, as if he could hold time still. Young as he was, he understood something final lingered in this moment. If his father, the Duke of Arces, forbade his return to Calma, then this place might only live on in his memories until he was old enough to decide on his own.

Jethru lifted the boy and hugged him tightly. "Hey, Sandoz," Jethru muttered, stroking the boy’s back with a calloused hand. "No need to cry like it’s the end. We’ll see each other again. We’ll come to the capital. We’ll visit soon."

Nearby, Ivy, her eyes rimmed red and lips trembling, approached gently. In her small hands, she held out a stuffed bunny that looked like her pet rabbit. "Here, you can take Pearl, so you will not miss Coco. I’ll ask Auntie Lina to make another one for me. Don’t worry, we will take care of Coco."

The little girl patted the stuffed toy and whispered. "Pearl, be good and accompany Sandoz and Coco, okay?" She handed it to Sandoz along with her handkerchief. "You should wipe your tears. And here, Sister Reya made these fruit candies for me. You can eat them in the carriage."

Sandoz used the handkerchief to wipe away his tears and snot. He then accepted the pouch containing the candies while carrying Pearl in his other hand.

"I’ve got something too," Ivan said, stepping forward. He looked determined to act grown-up, even as his lips pressed together tightly. "Here. My slingshot. Grandpa made it for me."

"Thank you." Sandoz accepted it without hesitation. "Then you can also have my slingshot." Sandoz took something from his small backpack and handed the sling to Ivan.

The slingshot looked identical.

Lara: "..."

No words were needed between the boys. Their exchange was simple, pure, and spoke volumes.

"Reya, please take Sandoz inside the carriage. I’ll say goodbye to Master." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Reya nodded and turned, but not before casting a final, lingering glance at the familiar faces clustered on the street—her eyes trying to memorize every smile, every goodbye.

Lara stood before Jethru, emotion tightening her throat. She wrapped her arms around him in a quick, fierce hug before pulling away without a word, her eyes shimmering.

Jethru didn’t move. He stood stiffly, watching her go. But as the carriage door closed and wheels began to turn, his mask slipped. His eyes, lined with years of wisdom, reddened with unshed tears. Though his grandchildren filled his home, having his disciple nearby had brought a sense of purpose that nothing else quite replaced.

He watched the dust rise behind the departing carriages and whispered under his breath, "Come back soon, girl."

...

The Norse brothers had prepared three carriages for the journey—one for Lara, Reya, and Sandoz; another for themselves; and a third, laden with luggage and for the escort they hired to keep them safe.

They would meet with Prince Alaric at the town gate. The prince would be escorting the prisoners—the mayor, his cronies, and the disgraced magistrate and town guard chief—on their way to face judgment in the capital.

Lara, seated beside the window, kept the curtain open as she craned her neck and watched the people behind her grow smaller, until they were no longer visible as they turned the corner of Narra Alley.

A soft whimper came from a basket nestled beside her. Lara looked down to see the pair of pups opening their eyes and looking up at her pitifully.

"Sis, look!" Sandoz burst out, his voice brimming with excitement as he pointed to the pups before them. "They’ve opened their eyes, and they’re the most brilliant shade of blue!" The earlier cloud of sadness lifted, replaced by a spark of wonder that danced in his gaze.

"Yes, pups normally have blue eyes, but they will change when they are a bit older," Lara explained as her fingers brushed Little Grey’s slick fur. Then she did the same to Snow."

Sandoz followed her lead and caressed the two pups.

"Did you regret not bringing Coco with you?" Lara asked, peering into his eyes to see his reaction.

"No," Sandoz replied decisively, though his voice had a hint of sadness in it. "My aunt doesn’t like to have pets at home."

Lara patted Sandoz on the head. She saw a part of herself in him and caught a glimpse of her own struggles reflected in his soulful eyes. He appeared so fragile, a boy weighed down by burdens too heavy for his small frame.

Shouldn’t homecoming be a happy occasion? But she knew full well that in some cases, it was a burden instead.