Carlos stood at the foot of the great Mother Tree, the root clasped tightly in his gloved hand. He had asked for nothing—nothing but his brother's life. And yet, standing there in the presence of the ancient tree, he felt a strange peace, even amidst the pain of battle and the burns searing beneath his gloves.
The Mother Tree, her vast branches stretching toward the sky, seemed to shift, her voice gentle and ethereal.
"You have taken what you needed, child," she murmured, the earth around them vibrating with the weight of her words. "But know this: I am a mother. My children are all that I protect, and yet, you ask me to spare your brother's life above all others. Your love... is a love worthy of this world."
Carlos, barely standing now, his body a mixture of exhaustion and raw power, let the words wash over him. His breath was shallow, the aftereffects of the battle taking their toll. He swallowed, his voice hoarse as he spoke.
"I don't want anything from you," he said, his eyes dimming with the weight of his exhaustion. "I only want my brother to live. That is all."
The tree's roots shifted, curling gently toward him as if to cradle his broken form. "I understand," the tree whispered. "I will give you what you have asked. Your brother's heart will beat for now. And as for you, my child, rest. Rest, for you have fought for love."
Before Carlos could respond, his body gave way, and his consciousness slipped into darkness. His body was so worn, so battered, from the trials of his journey that even the gifts of the gods couldn't shield him from his need for rest.
---
As Carlos slipped into unconsciousness, the ancient tree's roots encircled him, pulling his broken body onto a bed of soft moss. The tree, ever watchful and wise, knew the boy's pain—the burden of responsibility too heavy for one so young. The Mother Tree, with the power of centuries of life, gently guided Carlos's body to the waiting boat, where his soldiers stood in stunned silence.
They watched as the ethereal light from the tree surrounded Carlos like a protective shield. It wasn't just the strength of the boy's determination—it was something more. It was the power of a child who would risk everything for the ones he loved.
The soldiers, weary and battle-worn, approached the boat, their faces filled with concern. One of them—an older soldier with graying hair—spoke first.
"Will he be all right?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
The voice of the Mother Tree answered them before anyone could react. "He will be fine," she said softly, her tone gentle but firm. "He has given his heart to protect. He will live."
And with that, the forest, as ancient as time itself, began to shift. The great trees of the elves, the guardians of this sacred land, seemed to bow their heads in a quiet reverence. The path that had led Carlos to the tree began to close, as if the forest itself was bidding them farewell. The magical barrier that had once surrounded them all began to dissipate, leaving nothing but the mist and shadows of what had once been.
---
The soldiers, still in awe of what they had witnessed, gathered around the boat, lifting Carlos with the care of those who understood the fragility of life. They began their journey back, their steps quiet as they made their way through the now silent forest. The once-vibrant greenery had dimmed, and the forest closed behind them like a forgotten dream.
Carlos remained asleep, the root of the Mother Tree resting securely in his arm. The soldiers were silent as they moved, each one lost in thought.
They had not understood. They had not understood the weight of what Carlos had done—what he had sacrificed. He was just a boy—just fifteen years old. But the soldiers had seen it, they had seen the fire in his eyes, the determination, the willingness to sacrifice everything for his brother's life.
And now, they realized the truth. The truth that had eluded them until this moment.
Carlos was their prince. Their leader. Their savior.
As they made their way out of the forest, the soldiers began to realize their failure. They had failed to protect the boy. They had allowed him to fight alone, to carry the burden of an entire kingdom on his shoulders. They should have stepped in, should have shielded him from the dangers that only a child should never face.
But it was too late for regret. The moment Carlos had fought for them all had passed, and now, they were left with only one truth: they would follow him. They would serve him, no matter the cost.
A promise was made in the silence of the returning journey, a vow sworn in the heart of each soldier. "We will serve him, until the very end."
The soldiers who had already sworn their allegiance to Carlos silently reaffirmed their vows, while those who had hesitated now understood. They would follow Carlos to the ends of the earth, for he was their prince. And in their hearts, they knew they were not just his soldiers—they were his family.
The journey back was long, but they walked with renewed purpose, their hearts united in their unwavering devotion to the boy who had already given so much.
---
And as the last of the soldiers passed the threshold of the forest, the trees behind them closed and disappeared, like a dream fading in the morning light.
Carlos's unconscious body, still holding the root of the Mother Tree, was all that remained. The soldiers, now bound by their vow, continued onward, their silent march a testament to the bond they shared with the boy.