The Ellucia estate was abuzz with activity. Banners bearing the family crest fluttered in the wind, and nobles from across Eldrador gathered in the sprawling courtyard. Today marked Xarath's 25th birthday, a day meant to celebrate his ascension to adulthood—but also the day of his greatest trial yet.
Llama the 3rd, the patriarch of House Ellucia, stood at the head of the assembly, his imposing figure radiating authority. He raised a hand, and the murmurs of the crowd fell silent.
"Today, my son, Xarath Ellucia, will prove his worth," Llama announced, his deep voice carrying across the courtyard. "As heir to this house, he must demonstrate strength, skill, and resilience. Only then will he earn the right to lead."
Xarath stood at the center of the arena, clad in lightweight armor and gripping a sword that felt heavier than it should have. He glanced around, meeting the eyes of the spectators—his sisters, Xia, Ella, and Mai, stood near the front, their expressions ranging from smug amusement to thinly veiled pity.
Xarath's gaze shifted to his father. The man's stern, unyielding expression was a familiar sight, but today it carried a weight that Xarath couldn't ignore. This is my chance, he thought, tightening his grip on the sword. I can prove to him, to everyone, that I'm not a failure.
The Trial
Llama gestured to a line of commoners, armed with wooden weapons and dressed in simple training garb. There were 100 of them, their faces a mix of determination and uncertainty.
"These men and women represent the people of Eldrador," Llama said. "Your task, Xarath, is to face them in combat. Show them what it means to stand before an Ellucia."
Xarath's heart sank. A hundred? He expects me to take on a hundred opponents?
Before he could protest, a horn sounded, signaling the start of the trial. The first wave of combatants rushed forward, their wooden weapons raised. Xarath moved instinctively, blocking the first strike and sidestepping the second.
For a brief moment, he found a rhythm, deflecting blows and landing a few of his own. But the sheer number of opponents overwhelmed him. A sharp strike to his ribs sent him staggering, and another blow to his leg brought him to one knee.
"Focus, Xarath!" Llama's voice boomed from the sidelines. "Stand tall! Fight like an Ellucia!"
Gritting his teeth, Xarath pushed himself to his feet, his body screaming in protest. I can't give up. Not now. He swung his sword, forcing his attackers back, but their relentless assault left him battered and exhausted.
The Humiliation
By the time the final combatant knocked him to the ground, Xarath was barely conscious. The crowd's murmurs grew louder, some laughing, others shaking their heads in disappointment.
"Enough," Llama said, his voice cold. He stepped into the arena, his expression unreadable. "You've failed, Xarath. Again."
Xarath forced himself to sit up, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. "Father, please… I can do better. Just give me another chance."
Llama's eyes narrowed. "Another chance? Very well." He turned to one of the guards. "Bring the girl."
A hush fell over the crowd as a young commoner girl, no older than five, was brought into the arena. She clutched a small wooden sword, her wide eyes filled with tears.
"Fight her," Llama commanded.
Xarath stared in disbelief. "What? She's a child!"
"She's your opponent," Llama said, his tone unyielding. "If you refuse, you forfeit this trial—and any claim to this house."
Xarath looked at the girl, her trembling hands clutching the wooden sword. He couldn't do it. How could I strike a child?
"I won't," he said, lowering his sword.
The girl hesitated, glancing nervously at Llama. The patriarch nodded, and the girl lunged forward, striking Xarath with surprising force. He stumbled, but he didn't retaliate.
Blow after blow landed as the crowd watched in stunned silence. When Xarath finally fell to the ground, the girl stepped back, her tears replaced by a small, triumphant smirk.
Llama turned to the crowd, his voice echoing with disdain. "This is the heir of House Ellucia—a man who cannot even best a child."
The Banishment
After the trial, Xarath was summoned to the main hall. Llama stood at the head of the room, flanked by Xia, Ella, and Mai. The atmosphere was heavy with judgment.
"You are no longer my son," Llama declared, his voice cold and final. "You are unfit to carry the Ellucia name. From this day forward, you are banished from this house."
Xarath's breath caught in his throat. "Father, please—"
"Enough!" Llama's voice thundered. "You've had every opportunity to prove yourself, and you've failed at every turn. Leave, Xarath. And do not return."
Xarath turned to his sisters, hoping for some semblance of support. Xia looked away, Ella avoided his gaze, and Mai's smirk only deepened.
With nothing left to say, Xarath left the hall. As he stepped out into the cold night, the weight of his banishment settled over him.
Xarath's Thoughts
He wandered the streets of Eldrador, his once-proud armor replaced by tattered clothes. The whispers of the townsfolk followed him everywhere:
"Did you hear? The heir of House Ellucia was disowned."
"He couldn't even win against a child. What a disgrace."
Xarath clenched his fists, their words cutting deeper than any blade. Maybe they're right. Maybe I am a failure.
But as he sat alone under the stars that night, the pendant around his neck caught the moonlight. He held it tightly, his mother's face flashing in his mind.
I'm not done yet, he thought. This isn't the end. I'll find a way to rise again. I'll prove to them—and to myself—that I'm more than they believe.