The grand hall fell silent as the three brothers ceased their arguing, their eyes snapping to their father as King Vallios stood from his throne. His presence commanded attention, and the weight of the moment settled on the room like a heavy shroud. The anticipation was palpable, each prince ready to hear his father's decision on who would become the next ruler of the kingdom.
The king raised his hands, his voice strong and unwavering as he prepared to speak. "The time has come for me to declare the heir to my throne," he announced, his gaze shifting between his sons. The crowd gathered in the hall leaned forward, eager to witness the moment that would change the kingdom forever.
Before the king could utter another word, a sudden interruption shattered the tension. Prince Trallod calmly raised his hand, his voice carrying through the silence. "Father," he said, his tone respectful but firm, "before you declare the heir, I ask to be excused."
Gasps rippled through the hall. The other three princes turned toward their youngest brother, their eyes wide with disbelief. Even King Vallios froze in place, his expression stunned.
"Excused?" Vallios echoed, his deep voice tinged with confusion. "Trallod, what do you mean?"
Trallod stepped forward, his calm demeanor unshaken by the shock swirling around him. "I do not seek the throne," he said plainly, his words reverberating through the chamber like a thunderclap. "I forfeit the race to become the next king."
The entire hall fell into stunned silence. The three elder brothers exchanged glances, struggling to comprehend what they had just heard. Prince Helard, his flames simmering low in his astonishment, took a step forward. "You... you're giving up?" he asked, his voice disbelieving. "You don't want the throne?"
Trallod's gaze remained steady. "I do not want it, Helard. What I desire is freedom. The freedom to return to my realm, to live as I wish, and to rule over the kingdom I have already built."
The crowd began to murmur in disbelief. For years, the competition for the throne had been fierce, each prince striving to prove his worth. Yet here was Prince Trallod, the most successful of them all, casually walking away from the very prize they had all been fighting for.
King Vallios, still taken aback, took a step toward his youngest son. "You are forfeiting the throne?" he repeated, his voice quieter now, filled with both surprise and respect. "Trallod, you have accomplished more than any of your brothers. You have built a kingdom, earned the loyalty of your realm, and commanded armies of stone. You could be the greatest ruler this land has ever seen."
Trallod bowed his head slightly, his expression calm. "I have no need for a throne, Father. The realm you gave me is enough. I have created a life there, a kingdom that thrives in my absence. The power you offer means little to me, for I already have all that I desire."
The murmurs in the hall grew louder, the citizens of the kingdom struggling to process the words of their youngest prince. The three elder brothers stood frozen, unable to comprehend that the one prince who had surpassed them all was now willingly walking away from everything they craved.
For Prince Wilord, the news hit like a tidal wave. He clenched his fists, staring at Trallod with a mixture of envy and admiration. "You would walk away from everything," he muttered, "for freedom?"
Prince Gust, too, was struggling to understand. "You could have the entire kingdom at your feet, yet you choose to remain in your own small corner of the world?"
Prince Helard, though still burning with fury, was the most affected by Trallod's words. The flames around him flickered, dimming as he stared at his brother. "You... you truly don't care about the throne?"
Trallod met his gaze without hesitation. "I don't, Helard. The throne is your ambition, not mine. I have no need for it."
King Vallios, after a long pause, exhaled slowly and nodded, though the sadness in his eyes was unmistakable. "Very well, Trallod. If this is truly your wish, I will not force you to stay. You are free to return to your realm."
Trallod bowed deeply in respect. "Thank you, Father." With that, he turned away, walking toward the grand doors of the hall, his footsteps echoing in the stunned silence. The golems, still carrying his banner, followed in perfect unison. The Thundering Wolves, ever loyal, flanked him as he exited the chamber.
As the heavy doors closed behind him, the hall was left in complete shock. No one spoke, no one moved. Trallod's departure had shaken the very foundation of their expectations. The prince who had proven himself the most worthy had walked away, leaving the throne behind.
King Vallios, though still recovering from the shock, turned his attention back to his remaining sons. His voice, once again strong, cut through the silence. "The race for the throne continues," he declared, though his gaze lingered on the doors where his youngest son had left. "The decision is not yet made."
The three princes remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Trallod's choice had shifted everything. The path to the throne was now open, but it had also become more uncertain. Without their youngest brother in the race, the competition had taken on a new meaning.
But one thing was clear—Trallod had gained something far more valuable than any crown: freedom.