In his grief, Zulf hadn't paid much attention to the kid who came and went as he pleased. Occasionally he would force the issue, bring some surviving relic to Zulf. It hadn't really registered.
He knew the kid was fetching the cores, was going further into the crumbling wilds than any Caelondian ever had. He knew the kid was the one to find him, bring him back to their last bastion -- alone. It hadn't meant anything.
It didn't, until Zulf was looking up from his knees at the kid miles deep in the remnants of the tunnels, bloody but unstoppable.