"But I am the only one who can author the vacuum, Mother!" Kael suddenly snapped, his voice cracking with a raw, wild fury that perfectly mirrored Gwen's own motherly rage from the ridge. He stood up, his greatsword clattering against the obsidian. "Father's axe has physical mass—the ledger controls it. Lucien's void-mana is spent—his core is leaking purple fluid every time he tries to draw a single line. I am the only variable left that can stand in the center of the line without turning to stone. I am seventeen days old, Mother! I haven't even seen the real sun! I haven't seen the snow of the North! How can I be the protector of a world I've never even walked upon?"
Before she could answer, a long, massive shadow fell over them. Kaelen stepped out from the dark lattice, his broad chest bare, his newly grown left arm gleaming with a thick silver-blue aura in the twilight. He didn't carry his axe. He walked up to the boy, his golden wolf eyes soft but unyielding.
