Plundering Worlds: I Have a Shotgun in a Fantasy World-Chapter 75: A Matter of Record

The room assigned to Kael lay along the western gallery, two doors from Elira’s.

It was larger than his quarters at Blackstone Keep and better appointed than his room at Rathmere. The furniture was dark wood, heavy and fitted to the breadth of the space. A writing desk stood beneath the window, its surface cleared and ready. A wardrobe waited open, garments arranged within—formal wear cut in the same disciplined line Maren’s tailor favored, tailored here in finer cloth. The Varyn crest had been stitched into the inner collar, worked in restrained detail, visible only when the fabric shifted.

A manservant waited inside the room. Middle-aged, unhurried, carrying the composure of someone long accustomed to dressing men of rank.

"If you’ll allow me, sir."

Kael inclined his head.

The coat that emerged from the wardrobe was dark charcoal. Once settled across his shoulders, it altered his outline—sharper through the chest, narrower at the waist. The weight of the wool held him upright without effort. Pewter buttons sat in a straight line down the front, matte against the charcoal cloth. The manservant stepped back, eyes moving from shoulder seam to cuff, then to the fall of the coat along the spine.

"The High Lady dines at the sixth bell. The steward will come for you at a quarter to."

He withdrew. Kael remained where he was, the coat settling against his shoulders, the fabric holding its line when he shifted his weight. He adjusted the cuff once, then let his hands fall still.

At a quarter to the sixth bell, the knock came. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Elira came out of her room as he reached the corridor, dressed in deep green, the fabric cut close through the waist and falling cleanly from the hip. The northern branch crest sat at her left cuff, worked in dark thread. Her hair had been put up, a few strands loose at the jaw. She caught sight of him in the coat and looked away toward the stairs a half-beat too quickly.

[House Varyn – Dining Room – Evening]

The dining room was arranged with deliberate restraint. The table had been laid for three; the remaining length of polished wood extended into the far end of the chamber, unoccupied.

Helena Maris Varyn was already seated when the steward brought them in. She did not rise. The maid stood at her left shoulder, hands clasped behind her back, posture aligned with the long axis of the table.

Elira took the seat at Helena’s right. Kael sat opposite. The first course arrived without announcement—a clear broth, herbs gathered dark at the base of each bowl. Helena lifted her spoon. Elira followed. Kael had been watching, and he followed a beat behind.

"Your mother wintered well?"

"She wrote in February. The cold was difficult this year. She is well."

"The northern winters test her each year. She carries your father’s stubbornness in that."

Elira inclined her head. "I know."

"Tell her I asked after her, when you next write."

"I will."

Helena took a spoonful of the clear broth, the herbs gathering dark at the base of the bowl, then turned her gaze across the table to Kael. She broke the bread and set a piece upon her plate.

"You entered Blackstone Keep with no training. In six months, you reached Blood Awareness. You began as a servant." Her gaze remained on him. "Your father was a woodcutter. Your mother wove cloth. There are no recorded adepts in your line. No documented strain. No inherited blood."

She returned to her meal.

The second course arrived: roasted meat, root vegetables, a sauce carrying wine and something unfamiliar, edged with an animal depth he could not name. The cut was dense, the grain running tighter than venison. He set the knife to it and met more resistance than expected.

"Ironback boar," Elira said quietly. "From the northern range. Helena’s kitchen prepares it for those at Blood Awareness and above. The body draws differently at that stage. It was arranged for you."

Kael looked down at the plate and took a piece. The flavor was concentrated, mineral at the core, far removed from the pork of his childhood.

Helena continued her meal.

"Six months," Helena said. "From the stables to this." She looked at him across the table, taking in the height and breadth of him. The coat followed the line of his shoulders and chest with exact precision—no slack in the cloth, no excess at the seam, as if measured to the present hour.

"You received divine grace."

"Yes."

"You’re certain."

"I don’t have another explanation."

"Nor do I."

Outside, the estate was quiet. The candles on the table burned steady, the air in the room remained still, contained within walls built to endure centuries.

Helena placed her knife across her plate and looked at him.

"What do you want?"

The question rested between them. Kael did not answer at once. The table stretched before him, candlelight caught along its surface. Elira sat to his left. The maid stood behind Helena’s shoulder.

"Strength."

Helena reached for her wine glass, held it a moment, then drank.

"Then we will see what House Varyn can make of it."

She set the glass down and the meal continued in silence until the servant brought the final course forward.

When the plates had been cleared and the servants had stepped back to the perimeter of the room, Helena placed both hands flat on the table.

"The registry."

The steward appeared at the door. He carried a flat leather case and set it beside her. Inside lay a single document, prepared in a formal hand, spaces marked for the required signatures. Helena did not touch it.

"This records Kael, son of Aldus and Sera, as betrothed to Lady Elira of House Varyn’s northern branch, under sponsorship of the main house. It records his status as a candidate for the knight ascendant program under formal endorsement." She let the words stand. "Once signed, your name enters the city’s registry. Your standing becomes public. The house stands behind you."

"I understand."

"I don’t think you do yet, but you will."

She signed first, her signature the same as her manner—no flourish. She passed the document to Elira, who signed below her. Then to Kael. He looked at the page for a moment—his name in formal lettering, his father’s name beneath it. Aldus. Sera. The village that had no particular distinction except that it had produced him.

He signed.

The steward blotted the ink, returned the document to the case, and withdrew.

Helena rose. Elira rose with her. Kael stood.

"You will begin your formal assessment next week," Helena said. "The knight ascendant program has an intake process. You will go through it as every candidate does." She looked at him. "I expect it will not take long."

She moved toward the door. At the threshold she paused, and for a moment her expression was the closest thing to unguarded he had seen from her.

"Miller. Blackstone Keep household ledger. Stable hand. Fifty-three at time of death. That is the full entry."

She left. The candles burned on. The room held its arrangement.

Elira remained beside him.

"She approved."

He considered the doorway.

"It wasn’t clear."

"That was the sign."

A knock sounded at the door. The steward entered.

"The registry portrait is prepared."

They were led to a chamber set aside for formal record. The space had been cleared, the walls marked with faint inscription lines worked into the stone. At the center stood a circular inlay set into the floor, runes etched along its edge and filled with a pale metallic sheen.

A clerk waited beside a narrow lectern, a thin slate of crystal resting upon it.

"Lady Elira of House Varyn, Northern Branch. Kael, son of Aldus and Sera."

They stepped into the circle. Kael stood with his arms at his sides, shoulders squared. Elira reached for the fabric at his sleeve, intending to draw him half a step closer into alignment with the crest behind them. The wool did not yield. His arm remained set where it was.

She tried again, fingers tightening slightly against the cloth.

Kael felt the pull. He released the tension in his shoulder and let his arm settle. The fabric shifted under her hand.

She adjusted their spacing by a narrow measure and withdrew her fingers.

The steward stood to the side. His mouth tightened once.

The runes responded at once, a low hum threading through the floor. Light gathered along the carved lines, rising in a measured arc around them. The crystal slate brightened, catching their forms as the light traced height, posture, and feature.

"Hold."

The glow stabilized, then settled into the surface of the crystal. The lines dimmed. The circle returned to stone.

The clerk examined the imprint and inclined his head. "It is recorded."

The slate was sealed with a small sigil pressed at its corner. The steward made a notation to accompany the signed document.

They walked back into the corridor. At the door, Kael reached into his coat and held out a small cloth bag.

"You may find use for this."

Elira turned it once in her hands.

"Thank you."

She met his eyes and let the moment remain before stepping forward.

"We are now a matter of record."

The corridor was quiet. Wall lamps cast a pale light across the stone floor.

Elira walked beside him at an even pace, her hands loose at her sides. They were halfway back to their rooms when she spoke.

"I should tell you something."