All the trials, all the blood and tears, condensed into a torrent of memories rushing backwards through his mind.
*Clatter-clatter-clatter.*
The steady rolling of the carriage wheels sounded like a rhythmic beat on the glossy stone-paved road, carrying Alwen and Ronan gradually toward the heart of the kingdom.
He and Ronan glanced around.
This place was dazzling.
Shops lined the streets like mushrooms after rain, houses dyed in an earthy yellow shone brilliantly under the sun, reflecting a warmth so bright it was almost blinding. Adults and children alike wore vibrantly colored clothes, mingling with the ceaseless, bustling chatter of voices. High above, the clear, ringing songs of birds echoed, and occasional gentle breezes carried the fresh scent of flowers past their noses—it all painted a vivid picture before Alwen's eyes.
...So beautiful it made him forget he was sitting in this carriage.
Just then, a sudden ray of sunlight pierced through the red velvet curtain, shining straight into his eyes.
"Kh–!"
Alwen startled, hastily raising a hand to shield them, shaken from the brief daydream. His eyes squinted against the light, but in that instant, he suddenly realized something.
His hand clenched slightly.
His heart... felt as if it had just been lit with an irreversible determination.
His gaze gradually lifted to the dark figure opposite him. Ronan was also looking at him with eyes darkened and frenzied from many sleepless nights.
Neither spoke, but they both seemed to understand every word the other wished to convey.
"Grrrr... creaaak..."
The dry, grating, heavy sound of the carriage brakes rang out, signaling their destination lay before them.
"Your Highness, we have arrived at the palace."
The driver's deep voice sounded, somewhat cold but maintaining the minimum respect due to a prince.
Ronan began to narrow his eyes at the driver's tone.
"Alright, let's go!"
Alwen urged Ronan as he stepped down from the carriage with him.
Before the two of them stood the palace's massive gate, challenging all who beheld it. Two stone pillars carved with coiling dragons reached for the sky, the dragons' heads sharp as if poised to strike prey. The pitch-black iron gate exuded solemnity, reflecting the pale golden light of the early morning.
Flanking the path were bronze statues of knights, spears held upright, their eyes gazing endlessly into the distance, enough to make any lost soul hold their breath. In the far distance, the towering city walls, each cold gray brick meticulously carved with intricate patterns, gave him the feeling that every brick held its own story.
In the sky, mourning flags fluttered, bearing the royal crest, waving in rhythm with the gentle breeze. The scent of greenery from the royal gardens wafted faintly through the air, adding a touch of life to the solemn atmosphere. He took a deep breath, sensing a power and authority radiating from the very gate, as if stepping through here meant entering a completely different world, a place where only the brave and worthy were permitted to enter.
"After all these years of wandering... I finally return... but why does my heart still feel so heavy?"
Alwen's lament rang out, clear yet tinged with hesitation, like a small, sluggish stream breaking upon cold stones, wanting to overflow with emotion yet fearful of returning to its source.
"Just stay calm now, Your Highness!"
Ronan used an indifferent tone to break his prince's trepidation.
*CLUNK... RUUMMMMBLE!*
The terrifying sound of the enormous gate opening, each groan like a heavy heartbeat awakening the silent space around Alwen. A gust of air from within rushed out, carrying the scent of flowers, grass, and cold stone, as if beckoning him to enter... yet simultaneously reminding him of the years that had passed.
Right behind the colossal gate, two knights in gleaming armor stood straight as living statues. Their helmets reflected the sunlight, every intricate carving detail exuding solemnity and coldness. Their hands held swords upright, the tips touching the ground, creating a steady rhythm like the sturdy heartbeat of the palace.
Despite their sternness, their eyes clearly showed respect and wariness.
The two knights spoke in unison.
"Your Highness, please proceed to the great hall. Everything is ready to receive you."
Alwen, though anxious, stepped in swiftly.
Ronan, about to step forward, was held back by a knight.
But Alwen quickly explained and entered the palace with Ronan.
The space inside was the vast, overwhelming scene of the great hall. The ceiling soared high, golden cornices gleaming with intricate curves like flying dragons. Light from countless crystal chandeliers shone down, glittering on the white marble floor, reflecting into dancing fragments of light with each step he took.
Along the corridor on both sides, stone pillars carved with brilliant patterns rose to the ceiling, interspersed with bronze statues of nobles, their eyes following every movement. The scent of fragrant wood and burning candles diffused, blending with the soft sound of Alwen's footsteps, creating an atmosphere both solemn and serene.
The two walked down the corridor, the sound of *tap... tap...* echoing regularly in this vast, lonely space.
Alwen walked with an expressionless face, as if deep in thought about something.
Seeing this, Ronan gave him a *whack* on the back, startling him so much his soul nearly flew away.
"Why so tense?!"
"Umm..., it's nothing, I just still have some minor issues."
"Whatever the issue, it must be solved, Your Highness!"
"Don't be so pensive."
Hearing this, Alwen seemed to relax a little, answering briefly.
"Mhm."
Thus, the two walked down the utterly deserted corridor towards their own desires.
Suddenly, Ronan saw a statue placed right on the left side of the corridor.
The statue of two people, like father and son, carved from obsidian, three meters tall, majestic with exquisitely carved cloaks. The King held high a torch of red quartz, its light sparkling like real fire. At his feet, a young man knelt, embracing the flame, amber eyes blazing with determination, a pearl-like tear rolling down his cheek. The base bore a faintly carved line: "Fire Forges the Crown." A fleeting glimpse...
Ronan paused, his eyes wavering slightly as if remembering something. A nearby knight, his voice low, spoke as if muttering to himself: "His Majesty once said, only one who passes through the fire is worthy of the throne."
"Ronan, hurry up," Alwen called, his voice slightly urgent.
Ronan startled, his eyes leaving the statue, quickly following Alwen, but those words still echoed in his head.
◇
The enormous door stood before Alwen like an immovable shield, a mountain seemingly impossible to reach.
Alwen placed a hand on the door, thought for a moment, then sighed deeply, "haizzzz."
He turned to look at Ronan. Ronan simply gave him a thumbs-up, a simple gesture, but the fiery look in his eyes turned it into an oath that needed no words.
Alwen gave a slight nod, then turned and slowly pushed the massive door open.
The enormous door creaked heavily, slowly swinging open. Blinding light from the great hall poured out, enveloping Alwen. His heart pounded wildly, sweat beaded on his forehead, but his footsteps did not halt.
Inside, the throne loomed atop high steps. The King sat there—a majestic figure in black and red robes, his gaze like a sword piercing through to the soul.
On both sides stood long rows of nobles and high officials, all simultaneously watching Alwen. Their eyes were cold, suspicious, contemptuous, like needles pricking his skin.
Alwen took a deep breath, then knelt forcefully on one knee, bowing his head to touch the marble floor. His voice rang out, trembling but resolute.
"Your Majesty, Father... I, Alwen, have returned."
The space fell dead silent. Only the *thump-thump* of his heart remained. Then, suddenly —
*CRAAASH!!!*
The giant scepter in the King's hand slammed down on the ground. The sound was like thunder, shaking the floor, raising dust that blurred the light. A terrifying pressure erupted, pressing down heavily on Alwen's back until his arms trembled and his knees felt as if they would shatter.
"You... dare return in such a state?"
Each word from the King-Father struck Alwen's heart like a hammer.
"You abandoned royal flesh and blood!" the King's voice boomed down, heavy enough to seemingly crush the air.
"You cast aside the throne, lived in the mud, letting noble blood be tainted with filth!"
"Shedding blood for vile things and defiling this bloodline!"
"You wandered like a homeless wretch, letting the world mock the honor of the royal house!"
He stood up abruptly, a flash of anger in his eyes!
"And the worst... you exchanged your own flesh and blood for those ragged commoners! A prince... kneeling before the suffering of the lowly?!"
Murmurs arose throughout the hall.
"What disgrace...!"
"A stain on the royal bloodline."
"A shameful creature... why come back?"
"The prince, for commoners?"
"Unworthy to sit here..."
"Ridiculous... like a cheap show..."
The whispered discussions were like spears flying at terrifying speed, continuously piercing every fiber of his being.
Alwen's shoulders shook. His chest felt tight, about to explode. But within his suppressed gaze, a spark suddenly flared. He pushed his hands hard against the floor, *thump!* and stood up abruptly!
"ENOUGH!!!"
His shout resounded, so powerful that all murmurs ceased. The air seemed torn asunder, his breath caught.
Alwen looked straight at his father, his eyes blazing!
"You ask why I left? Then I shall answer! Since childhood, I saw children starving to death, saw mothers weeping over their children's corpses. I embraced failure and taught myself to rise. My honor is to protect those no one else defends."
The more he spoke, the firmer his voice became. Each word was like a stone thrown straight into the silence.
His voice lowered, heavy as if pulling memories with it..
"I lived among them, heard their cries, saw the depths of pain this kingdom denies. I have fallen, I have bled, I have risen... and I understand, the value of a prince lies not in the throne... but in daring to shield those whom no one shields."
He clenched his fists, his chest heaving.
"Every plea from the people suffering hardship, every desperate whisper from those who were skin and bones, to the innocent, inexperienced hands of children who had yet to know what joy felt like. It tore my heart into a thousand pieces!"
He had witnessed too much.
Since the day he left the palace with his resolve, he had always pressed forward despite all opposition. He and Ronan had toiled with their own hands, shed blood before dangerous creatures to protect those people, sowing the first seeds of hope for those who were mere seconds from death's door.
He remembered:
The smell of char, the crackling of flames that had swallowed the village he tried so hard to defend, the screams that rose then were abruptly cut short.
Or that moment, the sobbing voice and the words of Alice, "Mommy..." Those words were so innocent, she was just a child, a child who hadn't experienced life's beauty, lying mere millimeters from hell's gate. Even though Ronan had saved her, in that scene, he was utterly powerless.
Only because he himself lay before the hungry maw of a wolf, completely helpless before that cry.
That feeling of powerlessness, the feeling of being able only to watch but not reach out to save those people, was deeply carved into his heart, leading him to where he was now.
"I have endured blows, stabbings, the brutality of wild beasts and the indifference of men. But it made me not retreat, not become tainted, not crave wealth. I abandoned the honor of the royal house to develop myself day by day, tirelessly... and tirelessly learning, only to be able to stand up for the weak, only so that no more cries would have to ring out!!"
Alwen raised his head high, looking straight into his father's eyes, as if he had completely erased all fear from himself.
"If I must sacrifice everything to protect them, I will! This is the path I chose, the honor I carry.."
Before he could finish, he suddenly stopped, his throat seemingly too strained to continue.
"Haa... hahh..."
He took a long breath and exhaled, his darkened gaze lifting to meet his father's eyes directly.
He roared!
"MY HONOR IS TO RISE FROM THE ASHES OF THE FORGOTTEN!"
His roar was like a lion fully awakened, no longer showing any fear of anything in this world.
Silence instantly enveloped the entire room. Those who had scorned him could only stare dumbfounded, their faces either showing surprise or horror.
The entire great hall was frozen, rendered speechless by Alwen's powerful declaration.
As if, as long as this life remained, no matter what, he was determined to achieve his goal, leaving behind terrifying risks.
The King now fell completely silent, his eyes showing something complex. His hand trembled slightly from restrained emotion, which could explode at any moment. If the earlier reprimands were like sharp blades, this silence now was like a silent death sentence.
Everyone in the hall was completely suffocated by this immense pressure.
Alwen, though he had anticipated it, was also made to tremble uncontrollably throughout his body.
But he still stood firm on his own two feet, refusing to fall.
His eyes shone with something complex. As if a turmoil was occurring within that miniature black hole.
A strange light suddenly, unbidden, appeared in those pitch-black irises, like a star trying to scatter the cold clouds to illuminate the creatures struggling to find their own path.
Alwen had lowered his head, waiting for the worst possible fate to befall him.
Suddenly, he burst into loud laughter!
"HAHAHAHA!!! Finally, you have spoken the words I have long awaited!"
The King lowered the scepter, his voice full of authority yet carrying pride.
His free hand kept tapping the armrest with excitement!
"Alwen... you have not disappointed me. You have far surpassed your elder brother! All these years, I have waited for this moment... the day you dare stand before the entire kingdom and affirm your own path!"
The entire room was completely stunned; people began to buzz with discussion.
"What in the world is happening??"
"What does His Majesty mean??"
"Why is he praising a stain like that?"
"What is really going on here?"
Even Alwen was bewildered, unconsciously saying,
"Huh? What is this all about????"
"Could it be... he truly isn't a useless wretch?!"
The King raised his hand, his voice booming like thunder!
The King suddenly lowered his voice, giving a faint smile as he spoke.
"Your elder brother was originally a rare, all-around genius, someone who seemed the ideal person to lead the entire kingdom. He was once such a great hope, and such a source of my pride."
Upon hearing this, the whole room seemed to take on an indescribably pensive air.
The King's voice grew even lower as he continued with disappointment.
"But he himself was just a boy who loved luxury and wealth without ambition, arrogant, cowardly, ready to flee out of fear. He was practically useless, completely incapable of leading this vast nation."
"But you are different. Although you were a weak, sickly child, one who could be bedridden from tripping over a branch."
"You are the one who stands up after every fall, a person not only filled with determination to advance far, but also a kind, gentle, diligent child, with a courageous heart, willing to sacrifice for anyone."
"Since the day you left, I have always longed for today, the day you could prove to the whole world that your decision was completely right!"
"Therefore!"
"This throne... will belong to you. You are my pride, you are the one who will guide all the people living here."
"AND YOU, ALWENNN, SHALL BE THE FUTURE OF THIS ENTIRE KINGDOM!!!!!!"
Alwen stood frozen, eyes wide. He still couldn't believe what his father had just said, but he placed his trembling hand over his left chest, then struck it firmly!
"I swear it, Father! I will never betray this trust!"
The King nodded, his eyes blazing yet containing a rare gentleness.
"Go now. Let the people see... their true successor."
"Show them who truly is the one..."
Alwen knelt one last time, his voice choked.
"I thank you, Father..."
Then he turned and walked away. The doors slowly opened, radiant light flooding in, welcoming him to a future full of color, a future he had forged with his own blood and bone.