The halls of IronCrest Castle echoed with the whispers of betrayal as Tristan Darkwater stood before his father, the king, awaiting judgment.
"You have disgraced our bloodline, Tristan," the king's voice thundered, his eyes ablaze with fury. "Your treachery knows no bounds, and your actions have stained the honour of our house."
Tristan bowed his head, his heart heavy with remorse and regret. He had hoped for mercy, but he could see none in his father's eyes, only condemnation and disdain.
"I acted to protect our kingdom, father," Tristan protested, his voice barely a whisper against the king's wrath. "I saw the dangers that threatened us, and I sought to confront them before they consumed us."
The king's gaze bore into Tristan like a dagger, cutting through his defences with cold precision. "You speak of threats, Tristan, but the greatest threat of all was your own ambition," he spat. "You have betrayed your family, your kingdom, and everything we hold dear."
With a heavy heart, the king pronounced his judgment upon Tristan – exile from the kingdom of IronCrest, banishment from the land of his birth. Tristan felt the weight of his father's words like a death sentence, condemning him to a fate worse than death.
As he turned to leave the castle halls behind, Tristan cast one last glance at the kingdom he once called home. IronCrest Castle loomed over him like a spectre of his own making, a reminder of the life he had lost and the legacy he had betrayed.
With a heavy heart and a soul burdened by guilt, Tristan embarked on a journey into the unknown, his path shrouded in darkness and uncertainty. Little did he know that his exile would lead him to the springtime wonderland of Willowbrook, where destiny awaited with open arms.