6 days passed for me to scope out the guard rotations at night. I knew exactly how to get through. I made sure the 3 centaurs would be able to live in the stables of their inn until I got back. I gave Petras the duffle bag with all of my loot. "You need to keep this safe. If something happens and I don't make it back, you can live off of it for a while here. Since you and Jeran are knights in the service to the Swiftheart Family, you can always go back to the capital and meet back up with them if they have not left to the land leased to them by the king." I reminded them. They nodded their heads. I was going to go back to my world. First and foremost, I had to find my parents. They had a right to know that I was still alive. I also had a few stashes of loot and costumes in certain places in my home city. Having some would be nice. Everything else aside, I was curious to see how things were since I had fled to here. Maybe I had become an urban legend in the time it took me to adventure. Maybe I could start it all up from scratch again. Lord Swiftheart certainly did not care if I returned or not.
Jumping through a gap in the guards' defenses, I was able to get back to my original world. That was not the end of the problems. I also had to get past all of the security on this side of the portal. It was not that substantial, but the guards on this side had guns. I did not want to be shot. Sneaking out of harm's way, I was free. I had to figure out where my parents were. Looking at the sky, it was in the morning. I knew where my father would be. He had a office job at the post office. He said that he loved it, so he would not be retiring. He was not anywhere near the retiring age. They had me when they were young. It was more of a statement of contentment with his job. Due to this, it was nothing for me to simply show up at the post office. Walking over there was simple. I had gone there many times. When I arrived, I went to the front office. I asked to see my father. The clerk was different. She was probably someone they hired recently. She sighed and got up to go get him. I waited for about 10 minutes. I had winced when I confirmed it with the clock. He was probably really mad with me.
Keeping my composure, I took a deep breath. He was right to be as upset as he wanted to be. When I heard the door to the back opening, I braced myself for shouting or a glare. That was not what I got. An old man with a cane made of wood hobbled over to me. I furrowed my brows. I had asked for my father. No one else. He looked at me. His eyes scanned up and down before cracking a smile. "Don't even recognize your own father, huh Jakey-boy?" he said. That immediately caught my attention. My true name was James Collins. My parents gave me that nickname after I had told them that Jake was a much cooler name. This was when I was 6 years old, mind you. I knew it could be nobody else but my father. But that raised another, more unsettling question. "How long has it been? For me, it hasn't even been half a year." I asked cautiously. "I can tell. This means you really were that fucking thief that stole that shit!" he spat. I winced. This was the reaction I had been expecting. He then calmed down, huffed and said "If you must know, it's been over 40 years on this side."
