He heard someone coming slowly down the stairs and headed back to the counter. The tread sounded slower and heavier and he knew it was not the girl returning. Whoever it was walked with a pronounced limp. The curtains parted and a very tall, distinguished looking gentleman with old-fashioned spectacles and long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail entered the room. Tobal stared at the spectacles. They were the kind of thing no one wore any more. Corrective surgery had long made any type of eye glasses a thing of the past.
He wondered at the odd affectation and suppressed a smile. Anyone that owned a shop like this would have to be unusual. The man was holding Tobal's medallion and staring at it with a peculiar look in his eye. Almost lovingly the old man's fingers traced the outer circle and the two figures. He looked at Tobal and said softly,"Do you have anything else"?
Tobal pulled the faded letter out of his pocket and handed it over. The old man's face paled as he looked at the broken wax seal. He carefully took the letter out of the envelope and began to read. When he was done he looked at Tobal with a new expression on his face. There was steely determination and something that looked suspiciously like newly forming tears.
The old man asked solemnly, "Do you claim the right of blood"?
Not knowing what to say, Tobal just nodded.
"Yes, I do".
The old man smiled widely and stepping around the corner embraced Tobal in a warm hug.
"Then welcome son, welcome! You've come home at last"!