Prince of The Ruined Kingdom

The rain poured heavily that night, echoing over the long-abandoned ruins of Evernoir Castle. In the cold night air, amid the crumbling walls, a girl walked slowly, her body slightly hunched to shield herself from the biting rain. Her name was Abigail, and her long hair was soaked, clinging to her face, adding to the disheveled appearance of her dirty and weary clothes. She wore a long, dark brown coat, now heavy with the rainwater seeping into the fabric.

Abigail paused for a moment, standing behind the remnants of a massive wall that may have once been part of the castle's main palace. She pressed against the wall, seeking brief shelter from the relentless downpour. Taking a deep breath, she pulled a small device from her pocket—a palm-sized hologram that lit up the moment she touched it.

The hologram emitted a soft blue light, revealing the image of a boy with dark hair and shining blue eyes, smiling faintly in the portrait. His face still held a youthful innocence, around twelve years old. Beneath the photo was a name that made Abigail gaze at it with mixed emotions: Archemidas Evernoir.

"It's been three years," Abigail murmured, her voice almost drowned out by the sound of the rain hammering against the ruins around her. She let out a long sigh, wiping her tired face before turning her gaze back to the hologram. "How am I supposed to find someone with just a photo from three years ago?"

Frustration clouded her expression, but deeper than that was a sense of hopelessness. She knew this mission was nearly impossible. Three years was a long time, especially when searching for someone who might have changed their appearance, gone into hiding, or worse, no longer existed. Yet, she had no other choice. This was a mission that could not be ignored—not just for personal reasons, but because something much bigger was at stake.

Abigail glanced around cautiously. The heavy rain blurred her vision, but she knew that these ruins were not safe. She had seen shadowy movements between the debris several times, signs of bandits or perhaps monsters that now roamed this territory. She crouched down and observed carefully, ensuring no one was approaching.

"I can't stay here too long," she whispered. "This place is crawling with bandits. If they catch me…"

Abigail shivered, not just from the cold but from the creeping fear. She knew how brutal these bandits could be. Life in this chaotic world after the great war had turned many into creatures focused solely on their own survival. There was no mercy, no rules—only strength mattered in a place like this.

While continuing to hide among the ruins, Abigail opened her holographic device again, this time displaying a map of the Evernoir region and its surroundings. The map was filled with red markers indicating dangerous areas. Once fertile and peaceful regions had now become nests of crime, dominated by bandits, monsters, and wild creatures running rampant.

"I've searched almost every corner of these ruins," Abigail grumbled, scrutinizing the map closely. "But there are no signs of life… or at least, no signs of anyone matching this description."

She turned her gaze back to Archemidas's photo in the hologram. The boy's small smile felt so distant and foreign from the harsh reality of the world now. "Are you still alive, Arche?" Abigail wondered silently. "Or… am I too late?"

That dark thought haunted her mind, but she couldn't give up. Something kept pushing her to keep searching. Whether it was guilt, hope, or something deeper, she knew one thing: she couldn't stop now. Too much was at stake.

For a moment, Abigail closed her eyes, recalling all the information she had gathered. Archemidas, the prince of the Evernoir kingdom, had vanished amidst the war that shattered their land. Since then, no one knew his whereabouts. Some said he was killed along with his family, while others rumored he was still alive, hiding somewhere, waiting for the right moment to return. Abigail didn't know which version was true, but she had no choice but to believe in the possibility that Archemidas was still out there.

The rain intensified, and Abigail moved again. She crouched low, quickly maneuvering through the ruins, stopping occasionally to scan her surroundings. The bandits lurking in this area seemed absent, perhaps hiding from the rain like her. But she knew it was only a matter of time before they returned.

"It would be easier if this rain would stop," Abigail complained, feeling frustrated again. "How can I search in conditions like this?"

She kept walking, her eyes sharp, watching every corner of the ruins. Occasionally, she heard footsteps in the distance, possibly wild animals or creatures that lived among the castle's ruins. She understood that in a place like this, threats could come from anywhere—whether bandits, monsters, or even desperate people.

Time passed slowly, and Abigail began to feel exhaustion creeping over her. Her coat was heavy with rain, her legs trembled from the cold, and her mind was foggy from lack of sleep. But she couldn't stop. Not now.

In a more sheltered corner, she paused again, this time longer, allowing her body a moment of rest. Abigail pulled out her holographic device once more, staring at the photo for what felt like the hundredth time. Amidst the unrelenting rain, she started to feel how slim her chances were of finding someone with just this old photo.

"How am I supposed to find you, Arche?" she asked softly, though no answer came.

Then, she took a deep breath and turned off the hologram. "No, I can't give up," she told herself. "I've come too far to stop now."

With heavy steps, Abigail moved on, her eyes constantly searching for anything—a sign, a clue, anything—that could help her find the last heir of Evernoir. Though the night grew darker, the rain fell harder, and hope seemed to thin, she knew one thing: she would not stop. Not until she found the answers she was seeking.

Abigail tread carefully through the ruins of Evernoir, each step accompanied by the rustling of debris and the splashing of rainwater from the soaked ground. The relentless downpour made the night colder and eerily silent. Occasionally, flashes of lightning lit up the grim scene of the castle, which now only left behind crumbling walls—a reminder of the grandeur that once stood here.

She paused for a moment, lowering the hood of her thick cloak and taking a deep breath, letting the cold air penetrate her lungs. In her mind, her father's voice echoed—a message she carried in her heart throughout this journey. The message was simple yet heavy with significance:

"Find the Evernoir family. Especially the second prince, Archemidas. He is a fugitive now. Don't let him fall into the wrong hands. Our future plans depend on him."

The time that had passed since those words were spoken hadn't diminished their urgency. Archemidas—the boy who was meant to be the heir to the throne—was now a fugitive hunted by many. Meanwhile, the fate of his siblings remained unknown. The great war had destroyed everything, and piece by piece, the information she gathered from mercenaries, bounty hunters, and spies clarified one thing: Archemidas had often been spotted around the ruins of the kingdom.

Abigail couldn't help but feel a swell of pity each time she thought of the boy. "He must still be searching for the remnants of his kingdom, his family..." she mused. How must it feel to live in the shadow of a shattered past, pursued by enemies with nowhere to hide?

But this was not the time to sink into sympathy. Abigail had to stay focused. She had come too far to give up, and the latest lead she was following brought her to these ruins.

As she ventured deeper among the debris, her gaze caught something suspicious in the distance. Hidden among smaller ruins was a makeshift shelter constructed from pieces of wood and stones that had long since collapsed. It was almost invisible except from a certain angle—extremely well-concealed.

"What is this?" Abigail murmured, her brow furrowing with suspicion. The shelter seemed unusual, as if deliberately built to avoid attracting attention. The first thought that crossed her mind was that it could be a hideout for bandits or perhaps a temporary home for the homeless who often gathered in this area.

Deciding to approach, she readied her hand on the weapon at her waist, prepared for any lurking danger within. She moved slowly and carefully, trying not to make any noise that might alert whoever was inside. She arrived at the rickety door, a piece of wood that was nearly falling apart and propped up by stones. With a gentle push, the door creaked open, the sound nearly swallowed by the rain.

Inside, Abigail paused for a moment. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the cramped space. It was narrow, barely enough for one person to lie down, with no furniture except for a few folded cloths in the corner. The air felt cold and damp, with no signs of life.

However, Abigail was meticulous. She glanced down at the floor and immediately spotted what she was looking for: small footprints, clear despite being partially covered in mud and debris. The prints, judging by their size, appeared to belong to a teenage boy, and they were fresh. It hadn't been long since the person had left this place.

Crouching down, her trained fingers traced the footprints, her eyes focused. "A boy," she murmured, certain this wasn't the footprint of an adult. Could it be Archemidas? Or someone else?

Abigail pulled out her tracking device from her pocket and placed it over the footprints. The small gadget emitted a faint blue glow, illuminating the tracks and immediately beginning its analysis. Data started to appear on the small holographic screen hovering in the air: weight, estimated height, direction of the footprints.

"Walking carefully... possibly trying to avoid something," Abigail analyzed while continuing to examine the remaining tracks. "Weight... around 50 kilograms. Young. Not a bandit. Could be him."

She followed the tracks cautiously, paying attention to every direction change made by the person. The footprints seemed to stop several times, as if the individual was hesitating or watching something around them. The heavy rain complicated the analysis, but Abigail was experienced enough to recognize the movement patterns from the prints.

Standing up again, she scanned the small shelter. There were no signs of valuables, weapons, or food—only cloth that appeared to be used for sleeping. "This isn't a permanent residence," Abigail thought. "Just a temporary spot."

A speculation began to form in her mind. Perhaps this was a temporary hideout for Archemidas—or someone like him. The boy might have used this place to rest for a while before moving on. But where had he gone now?

Abigail turned to look out the door of the shelter, gazing across the expansive ruins around her. The ongoing rain made visibility difficult, but one thing was certain—the footprints led outward, away from the castle.

She activated her tracking device again, scanning a wider area. There were no other footprints nearby, indicating that the person who had left these marks had done so alone.

Turning off her device, Abigail took a deep breath, trying to piece together the conclusions from the information she had. She stared at the relentless rain falling, feeling a bit more assured with the clues she had found. "If this is really him, I'm getting closer," she whispered.

Yet deep in her heart, Abigail couldn't shake off the feeling of pity. A boy being hunted by so many, hiding among the ruins of his own kingdom, struggling to survive in a world full of danger. What could motivate someone to keep fighting like that? Was he still searching for his family, as the rumors suggested?

Abigail nodded to herself. "I will find him. By any means necessary."

And with determined steps, she left the shelter, following the trail left by the boy who might be the prince of the Evernoir kingdom.

Abigail continued to follow the small footprints, partially washed away by the heavy rain. Her steps were steady, yet her mind kept racing, analyzing every change in the track pattern. Sometimes, the prints appeared hurried, as if the person who left them had been running, then shifted to more cautious steps, indicating wariness. The more she followed this trail, the more convinced she became that she was getting closer to Archemidas.

Despite the situation, Abigail wasn't entirely alone. For the past few minutes, she had sensed the presence of several people following her from a distance. Years of training had honed her instincts, keeping her alert. Without needing to turn around, she estimated their number—four, maybe more. Their movements were slow and cautious, but not skilled enough to fool her senses.

"Bandits," she thought, letting out a long sigh, feeling slightly weary of the all-too-frequent encounters in ruins like these. "There are always foolish people trying to take advantage of places like this."

Deciding not to panic, Abigail quickened her pace slightly, giving the impression that she was unaware of their presence, even though she was counting every move they made. The longer they trailed her, the clearer it became to Abigail that they wouldn't just back off without attempting something foolish.

She stopped at a corner of the ruins, facing the direction where they were hiding. Without looking back, her voice came out cold and steady as she said, "Come out. I know you've been following me."

For a moment, there was silence amid the sound of the pouring rain, before a few men emerged from behind the debris. Just as she had guessed, there were four of them. They wore tattered clothing and carried makeshift weapons—knives, short swords, and clubs. These bandits were the typical street thugs who often exploited the chaos to dominate lawless areas like the Evernoir ruins.

One of them, a man with a scarred face, laughed as he approached. "What do we have here? A little girl all alone in a dangerous place like this. You shouldn't be wandering around here, sweetie. This place is full of danger."

Another man beside him chimed in teasingly, "Yeah, why don't you join us? We can make sure you stay safe here." Their sly laughter was a clear indication of their malicious intent.

Abigail sighed deeply, raising an eyebrow in a languid gesture. "Listen," she said calmly, without a hint of fear in her voice. "I'm working right now. And you're really interrupting me. So, this is your last chance to leave before I make your problems worse."

One of the bandits carrying a club laughed louder. "You talk big for a girl all by herself." He stepped forward, malice in his eyes. "Why don't we grab her, tie her up, and see what we can get from her?"

As he advanced, Abigail responded with swift movement. From her trained hand, a small, sophisticated firearm emerged from the holster at her waist. In an instant, she aimed it at the bandit and fired an energy bullet with perfect precision. The bullet struck the man in the chest, sending him flying backward to the ground with his last breath.

"One," Abigail murmured calmly, before turning to the others.

The scarred man looked shocked for a moment, but quickly growled in anger. "Attack her! Don't let her get away!" he commanded.

The remaining bandits charged at Abigail, but she was ready. With agile movements, Abigail dodged the incoming swing of the club, her body moving with a speed that left her opponents bewildered. Her left hand swiftly drew a sharp dagger, and in one fluid motion, she plunged it into the side of the man closest to her, right between his ribs.

"Two," Abigail said coldly as the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The two remaining bandits began to panic but still tried to fight back. One of them swung his sword at Abigail, but she skillfully evaded, using the opening to fire an energy bullet at the bandit's head. Blood splattered as the man fell.

"Three," Abigail whispered before swiftly turning to parry the last attack from the scarred man. He struck with brutal force, but his movements were too slow. Abigail only needed a quick shot to his knee, making him fall to the ground with a cry of pain.

Not giving him a moment's respite, she delivered a precise stab to his throat, ending his life. "Four."

She stood among the corpses of the bandits, her breathing steady. This wasn't her first encounter with such foes, and certainly wouldn't be her last. After a moment, Abigail took a deep breath, observing the lifeless bodies around her before holstering her weapon. "Done," she muttered with an air of indifference.

Once she ensured there were no other threats, Abigail continued on her path. The footprints she had been following were still visible, though the rain made them difficult to see. A short while later, she heard a strange sound in the distance—a wolf's howl, accompanied by the sounds of a struggle.

Quickly, Abigail ran towards the noise, her heart racing. "Archemidas?" she thought, hoping the boy wasn't in serious danger.

When she arrived at the scene, her eyes widened in shock. In the midst of a circle of large wolves surrounding him, a boy with dark hair soaked from the rain was fighting fiercely. His hands, clutching a knife, moved swiftly, slashing and stabbing at every wolf that approached him.

The boy's movements were incredibly agile, far beyond what Abigail had expected from a young prince. In mere seconds, one by one, the wolves fell dead to the ground. Their final howls were swallowed by the sound of the heavy rain, leaving only silence and the lifeless bodies of wolves around him.

Abigail stood there, mesmerized. "This boy..." she murmured, astonished by the extraordinary fighting skills of the child she had been pursuing.

Archemidas stood amid the fallen wolves, breathing heavily. His eyes stared blankly ahead, seemingly unaware of Abigail's presence just a short distance away.

As Abigail tried to approach, the boy finally turned around. His gaze met Abigail's, his face drenched from the rain, but his expression showed no fear. Instead, he appeared calm, as if this battle was just another routine task for him.

"You..." Abigail finally spoke, her voice soft amid the sound of rain. "You're Archemidas Evernoir, aren't you?"

The boy didn't answer. He simply stared at Abigail with a watchful look.

Abigail gazed at him, waiting for a response, feeling for a moment that she saw more than just a fugitive. Behind his cold stare, she recognized a lost child, struggling against a world that had shattered his life.

***