The light of dawn had blinded Kair, but amid that orange glow, without even having time to adjust his eyes, a very familiar light illuminated his vision.
His eyes had finally adjusted, but now the air smelled different.
A warm mist rose around his body, and his senses felt strange.
A bomb of pain and sensory overload crashed into his mind, and, gritting his teeth, he endured it until he adjusted.
Now, within his field of vision were the familiar tiles of the square.
But now he saw them differently.
It was as though their colors had become more vivid.
He could see the dust, and he could discern more details in the natural cracks.
And that was only his vision.
Now, his hearing could pick up the sighs and the strong beating of hearts around him.
So many people…
No!
So few!
Far too few…
The realization struck him like a blow and was only overshadowed by the overload his sense of smell experienced.
It began with the smell of the fried food he had noticed before entering the Fracture.
Then came the sweet and strong fragrances of the perfumes worn by the young women.
But the most terrifying…
The smell of wolves.
The smell of fur.
The smell of presence.
The smell of belonging.
The silence continued for quite some time, as though everyone there was giving Kair time to adjust to his senses.
Slowly, the white fur, with a texture reminiscent of ivory, receded.
The almost vanished light on his forehead disappeared, and the claws as silver as moonlight became Kair’s fingers once more.
Several long seconds passed as the young wolf slowly withdrew his transformation.
But the silence did not mean everyone there was quiet.
Meanwhile, the mind of the King of the Wolves was racing at a terrifying speed, matching his completely widened eyes.
The white fur looks like…
No, it is rigid, more like the scarce bone wolves.
The claws resemble the Ironfangs, but they aren’t…
And even though it was brief, I saw a moon there, didn’t I?
I studied every wolf lineage while I was still a crown prince, and even then, nothing…
Have we finally given birth to a new lineage?
The silence was broken as the young man’s transformation was being completed.
Finally, his senses had returned to normal.
Or rather…
To his new normal.
His vision was better.
His hearing and sense of smell were too.
He still wasn’t certain, but this couldn’t be the only thing that had changed.
“Ka-KAIR?!” Rovan’s voice finally made Kair raise his head and notice the scene before him.
An incomparably small number of people, compared to before dawn, were staring at him.
Some young people were embracing their families.
Some parents had fallen to their knees, losing hope when they realized Kair was not their child.
To his left stood Rovan, his eyes wide and a few tears running down his face.
Nearby, lying on the ground, Cassian, blood covering his entire face, stared at Kair in pure terror!
To his right, Princess Elyra was receiving medical attention, and near her stood Rael, who was still staring at the young serpent as though she were a piece of meat waiting to be torn apart.
Finally, Kair realized.
The two Kings were staring at him.
Everyone there stood still, waiting for Kair to do something, or whatever it was they expected from him.
But unlike what many might have expected, a faintly mischievous feeling rose in his chest.
Almost like a young pup wanting to cause trouble.
And his eyes returned to Rovan.
With a slight smile that, without being able to control it, revealed one of his fangs, Kair answered the Ironfang.
“What’s the problem, Rovan?
Wasn’t it expected that someone without a lineage like me would be the last one to arrive?” A wave of shock swept across the entire square.
Even Garran had to restrain his expression and maintain his composure as a King.
However…
The same could not be said for the other survivors from the camp.
It began with a few restrained laughs before breaking loose.
An uncontrollable wave of laughter echoed through the square like a wave that swept away the somber atmosphere, leaving only the melancholy of mourning behind.
Several good minutes passed before the laughter finally died down.
And, almost as if he had patiently waited for the laughter to end, a powerful but restrained voice spoke.
Authority filled the air, yet at the same time, something prevented it from creating any pressure.
“How does someone without a shred of lineage emerge as a wolf with traits…” Before the King of the Lions could finish, the force preventing Caedran’s power from pressing down on Kair spoke.
“Cases of lineages awakening hours after the ceremonies are extremely rare, but they are not absent from historical records.
From that to twenty-four hours later is a plausible leap, and clearly, Kair’s white fur is inherited from his uncle, a very powerful Galefang.
His name was Sylas Galefang.
You must have heard of him.” As he spoke, the King of the Wolves slowly approached Kair and positioned himself between him and the King of the Lions.
Kair noticed none of this.
What shocked him the most was that the King knew about his uncle, and, with the desperation of a sixteen-year-old, Kair forgot all decorum.
“You know my uncle?!” The boy’s genuine surprise was exactly what Garran needed.
With that quick affirmation, the rest of the context would naturally be assumed to be true as well.
Everyone would believe that he was a Galefang like his uncle, and the inexperienced young man would not have to endure an interrogation.
Just as King Garran had planned, everyone accepted the explanation, and King Caedran turned his attention away from Kair with an expression of displeasure.
Clearly, he did not have good memories of his uncle’s name.
With a smile from someone who did not care about the young man’s lack of decorum, or at least pretended very well, Garran raised his hand and placed it on Kair’s hair.
At first, he wanted to pull away.
It felt like disgust.
But as soon as the fingers messed up his black hair, revealing small white strands, Kair clearly could not fully return to his human form.
He felt something familiar, like Nova did whenever Waning Moon snorted at him.
“Your uncle may not have been a powerful Commander, but he was the best thing after one.
We fought in many battles together.
I never forget the names of those who fought or fight for me, young man.” The King’s words and the warmth of his hand felt almost like a wave of relief washing over Kair.
He had faced hell for longer than any of the other young people and had even witnessed one of the oldest battles of the ancient ages.
He finally felt it.
Exhaustion.
Not physical exhaustion, since he had never been stronger or more energetic, but mental exhaustion.
As if realizing this…
The King spoke: “Let’s go home.
There is a ball at dusk, and all of you need to rest!” The words sounded like a decree, and everyone there obeyed.