The Fall of Valencia

by Etherium-Apex

The Fallen City

Smoke rose into the air as the fight continued. Their numbers fell shorter, but they carried on defiantly, even as their muscles grew sore and their bones ached. They felled a great many enemies, but still more came. Marcellus and Felix struck down two more Shades, plunging their glowing blades through their chests before meeting with each other. They were growing weary of the endless skirmish, and it showed in their faces. Their fur was coarse and dirty, and their armor was nicked and stained with blood.

“We can’t hold them off!” Felix said, panting. “We must fall back to Astica and regroup!”

“I’m not leaving this city to those creatures!” Marcellus shouted. “Remember the Oath, fight to the end!” With that, he yelled and fought on, engaging a Spectre before striking it down. Felix sighed and raised his sword again.

They were driven back into what was left of Valencia’s town square, the marble arches now crumbled and the buildings ruined. The trees were felled, some aflame, and the streets were now populated with corpses and the gnashing teeth of Ryken’s foul children. Everywhere Marcellus turned, he saw only destruction, and to his dismay, the enemy seemed to be winning. Another Imperial soldier was struck down in every direction, their cries echoing into the sky, and even the flagpole above fell to the ground before them, the flag of the Solar Empire aflame. Marcellus was breathing heavily, and just as things seemed to culminate, another horror caught his eye.

Up above, at the highest tower, Marcellus spotted his father, Marcus, standing at the edge of his upper deck. Without hesitation, Marcus stood on the railing, turned, and allowed himself to fall to the pavement below, to his impending death.

“NO!” Marcellus cried out in anguish, forgetting the battle and teleporting himself to try and catch Marcus, hoping to break his fall. Materializing below him, he cast a stasis spell, allowing them to gently land on the ground. Marcus opened his eyes to see he was no longer plummeting, and spotted his son. His face was first confused, but the upset within him soon furrowed into rage.

“What are you doing?!” Marcus shouted. “Just let me die! Why would you save me?!”

“I will not lose both my father and my city!”

Marcus activated his magic to try and break the stasis, at the same time grabbing at Marcellus and shoving at him, with Marcellus resisting as they tumbled through the air. The aura around them stuttered as Marcus attempted to break the spell, but Marcellus was strong of will, and filled with determination to save as much life as he could.

They landed safely, though not so gently on the ground, and Marcus wasted no time with words. He immediately tried to wrestle his son to the ground, but Marcellus was a trained fighter. With a swift kick to the chest, he knocked Marcus off of him, leaving him tumbling on his back and allowing Marcellus to stand.

“All we know is gone…” Marcus growled. His mane freed by his lost regalia, it now hung like a mop over his face, giving a more sinister look to the downfallen ruler. His horn lit, and in an instant, a vibrant red energy sword came to life.

“There is nothing left for us, in this world or the next. You will face your doom, by my hoof, or by theirs!”

“I don’t want to fight you!” Marcellus cried. He stood his ground, feeling a sense of fear and apprehension. His father was harsh and critical, yes, but to threaten his own son? To make an attempt on his own life? From where did this new madness come?

“Weak, pathetic, sniveling coward!” Marcus sneered. “This is why I never loved you. You back away from the fights that matter the most, posturing only to please me, and all in vain!”

“You…?!” Marcellus felt a lump in his throat, but he pushed it back with all his might. He tried to speak, but all that could come out were breathy sounds and broken words. Marcus saw the heartbreak in Marcellus’ eyes, and grinned widely.

“You will suffer, my son. You will suffer, until I am dead.”

Marcellus composed himself and lowered his brow, glaring into his father’s eyes. Something was most definitely not right to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. Regardless, a fight seemed inevitable.

He conjured his own arcane, fiery blade, and Marcus wasted no time in charging at him, leaping into the air for a dive attack. Marcellus gasped and quickly blocked the incoming attack with his own sword. The impact of their blades let loose a burst of magic shards, and he turned to face Marcus as he landed beside him. His eyes were filled with wild rage as he made another lunge at Marcellus, who expertly parried his swing. Their swords locked together in combat as they repeatedly tried to out-maneuver each other, each attempt failing, and each clash of their weapons filling the air around them with particles of light.

Marcellus found a moment to push Marcus’ sword out of the way with his own, and quickly turned to kick him back, throwing him to the ground and breaking his focus on keeping his blade. Before Marcellus could come any closer, however, the earth began to shake, and the ground around them fractured, emptied homes and stone pillars making way for dark crystalline monoliths that rose from beneath the surface in varying shapes and heights, humming ominously. Both father and son were stunned for a moment as they watched, but only briefly, as they still had a conflict to settle. They both re-ignited their magical armaments, and continued dueling on as the battle raged around them.

From the cracked and bloodied streets to the war-torn rooftops their hostility took them, and as the old architecture fell to the new obsidian spires, they fought to the death, the ground trembling beneath them. Marcellus flung his sword at Marcus, who stopped his every move until he was pushed back to the edge of the rooftop. Their blades locked, Marcellus had him leaning over the edge, jaws clenched, prompting Marcus to quickly look down below him. The glow of their swords cast a warm light on their faces, just as another crystal monolith erupted from the ground directly below them. Facing his combatant, Marcus swiftly kicked Marcellus away, his hoof landing squarely on his jaw and knocking the helmet from his head. Marcellus stumbled back as it tumbled away from them, and a metallic taste filled his mouth. He spat away the blood, looking upon his father with focus, and pounced towards him.

His blade was poised for attack, but before he could land a blow, the crumbling structure upon which they stood gave way, and more jagged black columns broke through from below. They immediately lost their footing, and they each abandoned their swords to keep themselves afloat with their spells, enveloping them in a bright aura which contrasted against the dark, clouded sky. Diving out of the way of the spires, Marcus snarled and opened fire on Marcellus, beams of red light darting from his horn. Marcellus gasped and quickly shifted out of the way to avoid them before firing back. Marcus summoned a shield spell to deflect his son’s blazing projectiles, then unleashed an assault of his own. The firefight continued on between them, taking them higher into the sky, sending destructive magic back and forth as they both swerved and circled around each other.

The idle hum of the crystalline spires that overtook the city grew more pronounced, and red electric arcs flickered between them. The old remnants of the city that once was lay beneath the new dominant structures, a broken pile of nothingness. Above, a crimson disc stood in place of the sun. All that stood now was the high Lord’s tower, and its time was near an end.

Marcus had enough of their dogfight, blasting away the incoming bolts with a burst of light, and immediately, a large and powerful beam of energy exploded from his horn and rocketed towards Marcellus, who quickly produced a bubble shield to protect himself. The attack was immense, and he struggled with all his might to fend it off. His eyes shut tight, for all he could see was blinding light. His ears were deafened by the roaring sound of the beam as he gritted his teeth and held on for his life. Marcus held nothing but frustration and rage in his heart, and he threw every ounce of it at the stallion in front of him. Hoping for what? He didn’t know, nor did he care. He wanted everything to go away, he wanted everything to die.

Marcellus’ shield diminished in size as his will weakened, but he painstakingly pushed it back. Suddenly, he felt his struggle, his pain, even the sounds around him fade away, and he saw only white in every direction. He thought for a moment that he met his end, until he heard a calm, low voice in his head.

“You are never alone, Marcellus.”

He felt another presence with him; he could not discern it, but it felt warm, happy, serene. The real world returned to him, and he was back inside of his shield, his madman of a father still giving him everything he had. This time, however, he no longer felt the same struggle. That voice, was it - were they helping him? With little effort, he pushed back against Marcus’ attack, his shield growing ever brighter. It felt almost overwhelming - he arched his back and closed his eyes, and the sphere of light around him sent out a thunderous shockwave that echoed through the clouds. Marcus was stunned. He yelled as his horn splintered into pieces, leaving him powerless. He fell unconscious, and as his levitation spell was no more, he began to plummet to the earth.

Comments

[Ice Star]

These last three chapters have all been very balanced in terms of body language, descriptions, action, and dialogue. I would suggest going back over these to get an idea of what you did right when you need an idea of structuring your chapters.