Rain fell without mercy.
Each drop struck the weathered canvas above like the beating of a war drum.
The wagon lurched over a deep rut, throwing the boy inside against the wooden frame.
A sharp pain shot through his head.
His eyes flew open.
For several heartbeats, he saw nothing but darkness.
Then came the smell.
Wet earth.
Smoke.
Blood.
His breathing became uneven.
“…Your Highness?”
A gentle voice trembled beside him.
He turned his head.
A young woman in a rain-soaked woolen cloak stared at him with reddened eyes.
Her face was pale from exhaustion, yet relief washed over her features the moment she saw him awake.
“Thank the Lord…” she whispered.
“I thought we had lost you.”
He didn’t answer.
His ears rang.
His heart pounded.
Then…
The memories came.
Not one.
Hundreds.
A marble palace overlooking green valleys.
A little boy chasing pigeons through the royal gardens.
A king lifting his son onto a warhorse for the first time.
A queen laughing as she adjusted a tiny silver crown.
The warmth of family.
The pride of a kingdom.
And then…
Fire.
Walls collapsing.
Steel against steel.
Screams echoing through the palace corridors.
A crown stained red.
A king with blood running down his face kneeling before his son.
“Listen to me…”
“A kingdom may fall…”
“But as long as its people remember it…”
“It is never truly dead.”
“Live.”
The memories shattered.
Adrian gasped and grabbed his chest.
They weren’t dreams.
They belonged to another life.
No…
Another person.
He slowly looked at his hands.
They were small.
Thin.
The scar across his left knuckle—earned years ago during military academy—was gone.
Instead…
Soft hands.
The hands of a boy.
The gods had kept their promise.
He truly had been given another life.
Outside, frightened voices echoed through the storm.
“Keep moving!”
“Don’t stop!”
“If we stop, we’re dead!”
Adrian pushed aside the wagon’s curtain.
His breath caught.
The royal road was gone.
The proud kingdom from those memories no longer existed.
Only refugees remained.
Farmers pushed broken carts carrying everything they owned.
Children walked barefoot through freezing mud.
Old women supported wounded soldiers whose armor had been shattered beyond repair.
One man carried nothing except a folded banner.
Even soaked by rain, Adrian recognized the royal crest stitched into the fabric.
The old soldier held it as though it weighed more than gold.
No one spoke.
No one cried.
Grief had gone beyond tears.
The kingdom had not merely lost a war.
It had ceased to exist.
“…Your Highness.”
The young woman carefully helped him from the wagon.
“My name is Elena.”
“I served Her Majesty since I was fourteen.”
She lowered her eyes.
“…The Queen entrusted me with your life.”
Adrian looked at her.
“How long?”
She hesitated.
“…Three days since the capital fell.”
Three days.
Only three days ago, this boy had been sleeping inside a palace.
Now he stood barefoot in the mud with people who had lost everything.
He looked toward the horizon.
Dark smoke still rose in the distance.
The capital…
Was still burning.
A rough voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Your Highness.”
An elderly knight approached before kneeling despite the mud beneath him.
His silver hair escaped from beneath a dented helmet.
Rain ran down the deep scars covering his weathered face.
His armor had clearly belonged to a royal guard.
“My name is Sir Roland.”
“I failed your father.”
His voice cracked.
“I failed my king.”
Adrian remained silent.
There were no words capable of easing that burden.
Sir Roland slowly stood.
“The enemy has ordered every member of the royal family executed.”
“They believe Your Highness perished during the siege.”
“We have done everything possible to keep that illusion alive.”
“But…”
A distant horn echoed across the valley.
Everyone froze.
Another answered.
Then another.
Sir Roland slowly closed his eyes.
“They’ve found us.”
Fear spread through the refugees like wildfire.
Some mothers hugged their children.
Others began praying.
One little boy tugged at his father’s sleeve.
“Father…”
“Are we going home?”
The man couldn’t answer.
Adrian watched them quietly.
This wasn’t an army.
It wasn’t even a convoy.
It was the final heartbeat of a dead kingdom.
His military instincts awakened.
Automatically.
How many people?
Around sixty.
Fighting men?
No more than a dozen.
Half of them wounded.
Food?
Almost gone.
Horses?
Exhausted.
The road?
Open.
Predictable.
Perfect for cavalry.
Certain death.
His eyes swept across the surrounding forest.
Dense trees.
Steep hills.
Poor visibility.
Good.
Very good.
He turned toward Sir Roland.
“Is there a defensible position nearby?”
The old knight blinked.
“…An abandoned watchtower.”
“East of here.”
“Less than a mile.”
“Can everyone reach it?”
“If the wagons survive.”
“Then we leave the road.”
Silence.
One guard frowned.
“But the road is faster.”
“For us?” Adrian asked calmly.
“Or for the cavalry?”
No one answered.
“The road is their weapon.”
“The forest is ours.”
Sir Roland studied the prince.
Something had changed.
The frightened child he had sworn to protect…
Had disappeared.
Standing before him was someone whose eyes calmly measured terrain, distance, and survival as if he had spent decades commanding armies.
It made no sense.
Yet…
For the first time since the kingdom fell…
Hope stirred within the old knight’s heart.
He drew his sword.
His voice thundered through the rain.
“Leave the road!”
“Into the forest!”
The refugees obeyed without question.
As the last wagon disappeared beneath the trees, heavy rain slowly erased their tracks.
For a brief moment…
It seemed they had escaped.
Then—
A lone horseman appeared atop the ridge.
He wore the colors of the conquering empire.
His sharp eyes swept across the forest.
They stopped.
Directly on Adrian.
The rider smiled.
Slowly…
He raised a bronze hunting horn.
The sound rolled through the valley like thunder.
One horn became two.
Two became five.
The forest answered with the pounding of galloping horses.
Sir Roland tightened his grip on his sword.
“…They know.”
Adrian looked into the darkness between the trees.
The hunt was over.
The war for a fallen kingdom…
Had just begun.
End of Chapter 1
————————–The End———————
Next : The First Command
By : Zenryth