2026-09-15 00:01:19Breakfast was gone, the bowls were washed, and morning light had climbed far enough across the front room to catch Allen's Guild jacket where he'd hung it. The D-rank badge still sat on its left breast.
Allen ignored it. He crouched in front of Seraphina's wheelchair. His right thigh pulled faintly beneath his dark trousers, more annoyance than pain now. He swung the footrests aside, pressed the brake locks, then gave the chair a s
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58 | Restricted Inventory (II)
The registry clerk didn't answer immediately. Instead, she lowered her face toward the page. "That's the problem." A hard ink line crossed through the original receiver reference without scraping it away. A replacement reference had been written beside it. Allen read the replacement. "Where's that entry?" The clerk closed the ledger halfway and reached for a thinner index beside her. She checked that index as well. "It's not in the material available through this desk." The Guild clerk's mouth twisted. "Convenient." "Maybe." The registry clerk's eyes stayed on the paper. "Or corrected badly. Or moved. Or lost later. Don't make me say more than the page says." Allen liked that answer more than he liked the page. "Can you tell who changed it?" "No." "Who received the unit?" "Not
57 | Restricted Inventory
Allen kept the wheelchair moving toward the Guild. The clinic soon fell behind them. Seraphina sat straight beneath her blue shawl. Her pale-blue skirt stayed tucked safely over her knees while rough stone made the wheelchair shiver under her. Allen slowed over the worst patches and pushed on. The specialist had given him a category, not an answer. Nullglass-class suppression meant restricted access and records that should exist somewhere. That was enough to start. The Guild hall was busier than the clinic. Hunters crowded the front floor, clerks called names over the noise, and somebody near the mission boards was arguing about a missing stamp. Allen ignored all of it. A porter moved aside when he saw the wheelchair. Allen guided Seraphina through the gap without clipping a bench, then took the quieter corridor toward records. No one stopped them until the old cou
56 | Scar at Her Temple (II)
Allen took her right hand in his left. His right settled on her shoulder, steady and warm through the shawl. "All right." He looked at the specialist. "Slow." "I was planning to." The woman waited until Seraphina looked at her and nodded again before she resumed. This time the examination took longer. Light pressure around the scar. A pause. A question about whether the sensation changed. Seraphina answered with nods, shakes, and a firmer squeeze around Allen's fingers. The specialist kept checking her face before every new touch. Allen stayed where he was. He could feel the exact moments Seraphina braced herself through her hand. When the specialist finally leaned back, Seraphina's shoulders loosened. "Done with that part," the woman said. Allen looked down at his wife. "You heard her. Done." Seraphina sq
55 | Scar at Her Temple
The clinic clerk looked at Allen's D-rank badge, then at Seraphina."Seraphina Valemont?"Seraphina gave a small nod from her wheelchair.The clerk checked the appointment entry again. Her eyes paused at the S-rank beside Seraphina's name. Then she moved on."Condition appraisal is 1 Star Gold," she said. "Paid before examination."Allen retrieved the fee from Dominion Cache [Epic].The coin settled into his empty right palm. He placed it on the counter.The clerk's mouth opened when the coin appeared, then closed. She swept it toward herself and stood. "This way."Allen released the wheelchair brakes. Seraphina's pale-blue skirt lay clear of the wheels, her blue shawl folded around her shoulders. He pushed her down a short corridor and into a private room that smelled faintly of soap and lamp oil.There wasn't much inside. A desk. A chair. An examination lamp. A handheld lens resting beside a stack of
54 | The Son They Threw Away (II)
Years ago, that answer would've stuck in his throat. Now it didn't. Gideon folded his hands. "You didn't hear the proposal." "I heard enough." "You and your wife would have proper quarters. House protection. Staff. Access appropriate to your position." "We have a home." Darian scoffed. "You've got a little stone box and a Guild badge. That isn't a House." Allen turned his head. "Careful," Darian said, smiling again. "I'm insulting the house, cousin. Don't start imagining you're dangerous because the Guild gave you a shinier badge." The old anger rose harder this time. Allen let it. His hands stayed loose on the chair arms. "You done?" Darian's smile thinned. "Not even close." "Enough," Gideon said. Not loud. He didn't need loud. Darian's jaw tightened, but he stepped back towa
53 | The Son They Threw Away (I)
Allen dressed for the Veton meeting without his Guild jacket. The D-rank badge stayed home with it. He was already in a plain dark shirt and trousers when Maris arrived. Fendrel was outside, checking the street and the narrow approach to the house. No sword hung at Allen's hip. Silverhowl [Uncommon] stayed where it belonged in Dominion Cache [Epic]. Seraphina watched him from her wheelchair. Her white nightgown lay loose over her knees, both feet resting on the footrests. Yesterday she had stood. Today Allen wasn't letting that achievement turn into an excuse to overwork her before he walked into House Veton. His right thigh tugged when he bent to tighten his boots. The wound from Cinder Quarry had closed enough to be an annoyance instead of a problem. The burn along his left forearm felt tight under the sleeve. Rapid Regeneration [Rare] had kept working through both injuries, but it hadn't erased them overnight.<
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