The Fall of Valencia

Chapters

Outline & Characters
The Coming Darkness
Hope from the Ancients
The New Battlefield
Preparing for War
The Siege
The Fallen City
The Days of Darkness
The Valor of an Old Friend
Beyond the Setting Sun
The Young Warrior
Epilogue

Outline & Characters

Outline

This alternate-universe story tells the downfall of the ancient city of Valencia, about 5,000 years before the events of the show. A crown jewel of the Solar Empire, a global nation led for millennia by an powerful being named Magnus de Vaspian. A broken, desperate Lord, and his unloved son, a Captain of the Imperial Legion, who does his best to protect his home while wishing he could earn the love of his father. They prepare for an invasion by the Umbrum and their armies while dealing with their own internal conflict, aided by his lifelong friend and closest subordinate.

Characters

Marcellus
A young adult unicorn enlisted in the Imperial Legion. Despite his youth, he has a great number of achievements, owing to his lifelong training as a warrior and his skill with magic. He is brave and honorable, but his mind is frequently troubled by his conflict with his father.

Felix
A lifelong friend of Marcellus, sharing a very close bond, serving as a 2nd Lieutenant of the Legion. He acts as his friend’s field companion and confidant, as well as a source of guidance and emotional support when off-duty.

Marcus
Lord of Valencia, father of Marcellus, and a shameful ruler. Feeling humbled and overshadowed by his predecessors, his mind has fallen into delusion and despair, preferring to wait for the end rather than suffer his own existence. He shows no love for his own son, whom he believes to make a mockery of him due to his success. He wallows in pity, and bitterly tries to stop anyone who shows a glimmer of hope.

Magnus de Vaspian
Great, ancient, and immortal ruler of the Solar Empire. He spends his time in the orbiting sky-city of Urba Sol, watching over the world’s denizens and doing his best to protect them from harm. His presence is unforgettable to any lucky enough to meet him. As an Aurum, he feels a strong desire to love, protect, and comfort every mortal creature.

Prelude

Long ago, in the vast annals of the ancient world, the eternal threat of the Umbrum was much more dire. A number of earthly cities belonged to them, all taken through terror and conquest. Their capital stronghold came to be known as Moenia Tenebra, a ruined and blackened city hiding their most terrible creatures and twisted leaders.

The origin of Moenia Tenebra is one of great tragedy; it was once a shining city of the Solar Empire, the capital and center of all trade in the central regions of modern-day Equestria. The city of Valencia was laden with the luxuries of fine silks and beautiful gems, towers of white gold which pierced the sky and shone upon the lands beneath it. The city knew not a wink of sleep, for at every hour it bustled with the activity of merchants seeking to trade away for riches and the clashing iron of warriors who trained to the bone to protect their land and its inhabitants.

The glory of Valencia was long upheld by the great lords who oversaw it. There was first Lord Hadrian from the Northern lands, who led with a firm but forgiving hoof. He was succeeded by Lord Valerius, father of Valencia's final ruler, Marcus. A unicorn humbled by the legacy of his forebears, he took comfort in holding the names of his descent more dearly than his own son.

Marcus spent many long days in the height of his towers, looking to the stars for answers to his existence, ignorant of the stagnancy and decay wrought by his lack of presence. The light of Valencia withered, its walls became vulnerable. Marcus saw his world fade, and blamed himself, yet did nothing. He fell into despair, for he could never live up to the lords that came before him.

His son, Marcellus, served Valencia as Captain of the Guard. He was a brave, young unicorn, a valiant and skilled fighter, and a loyal companion to all those who were close to him. His spirit and valor were great, and his achievements were many. Despite his character, he still could not earn his father's love.

The Coming Darkness

14 Harvest, year 4502 of the Magnum Age

"So, the outer villages are lost." Marcus faced away from his son, decorated in his furred gray cloak and the gold headband which graced his azure fur and long fiery mane. They stood within the great halls of the highest tower, once home of greater rulers, but now desecrated by a woeful lord.

"Yes, my lord." Marcellus gave a hint of distress, but his expression remained calm as he observed his father, standing in his silver armor. The red crest hid his own darker auburn mane as it lay over his cornflower coat. His amber eyes were steely and stoic.

"Were you not entrusted to protect them?" His voice was now a low, intimidating growl.

"We did our best, my lord. We saved the villagers, and we fought down to the last stallion, but the power of the shadow army was too great. We were overwhelmed."

"So, that's it then." Marcus turned to face his son.

"My lord, they will be upon us soon. They will not stop until every city is theirs. We must protect Valencia. Should we not call for aid from nearby armies?"

Marcus made a quiet sound. His blue eyes penetrated Marcellus' gaze. "Ever do you seek to win my approval. And what is the goal, might I ask? To achieve a fleeting victory, the uproarious sound of clamorous fools, yearning to escape their ultimate fate, and to become something greater than I ever could be?"

"What? No, I-"

"You wish to make a fool of your own father, to do what he could not! To become an image of splendor while I become forgotten!"

Marcellus could not speak. He felt a pressure in his eyes as the turmoil of emotions grew within him.

"...No," Marcus spoke quietly, "We are alone in this battle. Leave my sight, Marcellus. You have done enough to help your kin."

Marcellus sighed, his breath uneven. "I will do what I can to protect my home, father."

"As you wish."

"If I succeed, I would hope that you find it in your heart to show greater love for your son." Marcellus bowed and turned to leave, hearing not a word from Marcus.

Marcellus was met by the sun as he departed, and the usual sounds of the city. The journey back down the steps to Valencia proper was a perilous one, not by way of physical danger, but of the conflict that lay in his mind. The city needed help; they could not win on their own. But what was he to do? Betray his honor by defying his own father and the ruler of the city?

As he returned to his garrison, he watched as the townsfolk carried out their daily lives, all blissfully unaware, returning greetings as he received them. Only Marcellus knew what was to come. He slowed for a moment as he passed by a tavern. He longed for some relief from his trouble, but ultimately moved on.

He eventually reached his station by the outer wall of the city. There the flag of the Solar Empire idly waved in the wind, its vibrant red and gold colors contrasting the deep blue sky. Its gold sun, wreathed in light blue laurels, emblazoned on a vibrant red backdrop. He had always wanted to meet Magnus himself, but perhaps in less dark times.

The troops within were all busy sharpening their steel and polishing their armor, exercising their muscles, and sparring. Marcellus was met with a salute by any who met eyes with him. He could see the fear in their gaze, the worry that they tried to keep hidden. He said nothing, for he understood their distress, and shared it himself.

"Well, Captain Marcellus? Will any help be coming to Valencia?"

He was approached by Second Lieutenant, Felix. He was similar in age, with fur like sandstone and a mane of gold. Marcellus sighed.

"No. We will be holding back this invasion on our own."

Felix let out an exasperated sigh.

"I should have expected it," Felix said. "Lord Marcus is lost. His troubles are too great to be a fitting leader! Why do we even listen to him?"

"As unfortunate as it is, we answer to him. We must do as he says. We swore to do so when we joined the Legion."

Felix huffed. He had a feeling there was another reason Marcellus was so obedient to his father.

"How much time do you expect we have, Captain?"

"Two days, approximately."

"Are you sure?" Felix's violet eyes studied the ground. "If that's true, then there would be no time for help to come either way. We don't have the strength to hold back an invasion! What must we do?"

"We uphold the oath." Marcellus' stern expression countered Felix's faltering composure. "We stand, we fight, we give our lives until there is no more life to give."

Marcellus placed a hoof on Felix's shoulder, his stern face melting into a reassuring smile.

"Have courage, my friend. Even if we don't make it, I will consider it a great honor to have you by my side."

Felix smiled back and returned the gesture.

"And I yours."

Hope from the Ancients

High above in the safety of his tower, Marcus stood and watched his citizens. He could see archers at their posts in the ramparts of the outer wall, and troops moving through the city.

"The strength of the Empire is waning," he lamented. "Who now could stand against the armies of darkness? It is folly."

He returned to the comfortable dark of his hall, observing the painted portraits of his predecessors. His brow was troubled, his expression grim.

"Why must they leave me with this demise? This ghost of a city, this ragged house of rubble... We have no hope for victory. Our world will fall, our cities to ruin. Magnus has failed us."

Felix followed Marcellus outside, back into the golden warmth of the setting sun.

"What is our first priority, Captain?"

"I will not allow the shadow army to bring harm to our ponies. We must keep them safe."

"Shall we evacuate, then?"

"Where will they go? Into the hills, to be torn asunder by timberwolves? Into the nearby villages, now blackened by demons? No, we have nowhere to go. But we do have one thing - the old magic of our ancestors. A protective shield that lies dormant in our city."

"The Aegis Clypeus? Marcus will never allow you to activate it!"

Marcellus could only grin. "Then I will not seek his permission."

Felix lit up in response. "You... You mean it, sir?"

"I mean it, and please, just call me Marcellus. You may be my subordinate, but we've been close for far longer than our enlistment."

"Oh, right, of course!" Felix smiled.

"Now, come with me, we need to get to the top of the high tower to activate the shield. And we mustn't be seen."

"Perhaps we should forego our armor then," Felix said. "It will make a frightful bit of noise, and it would weigh us down."

"A very good point..."

They returned inside to store their armor within the barracks, leaving them in nothing more than their skin. It was fortunate that the sun fell below the horizon, leaving them covered by darkness.

"The dark should hide us from my father's peering eyes," Marcellus commented as they made way to the tower.

"Of course. Though, I wonder why you would decide now to defy him. You've always done everything you could to win his favor."

"The brink of war changes many thoughts, Felix. I promised him that I would do what I can to protect the city, and I am. Besides, he never did say that I couldn't activate the Aegis."

"Sneaky."

"I prefer 'crafty'."

As they approached Marcus' tower, Felix looked up towards the top. He spotted a rather interesting crystalline structure at the very highest point, glinting like the many stars above it.

"Is that it, up there?"

Marcellus looked up as well.

"Yes, there it is. The Aegis Clypeus. The city-shield. Marcus likes to look down at the city from his high perch, and his enchanted eye sees all. We will need to stay under cover to avoid his gaze."

"Why would it matter if he saw us? He doesn't know of our plan."

"We are not at our posts, either. It would certainly arouse suspicion."

"That is true. So, how do we activate the Aegis?"

"I studied on it in my youth. The craftsmanship of the Aegis is otherworldly; rather than any key or switch, the Aegis merely requires the touch of an individual who carries great desire in their heart to protect what they love most, even to their own detriment."

"We both desire that greatly. Shall we both touch it then?"

"Together."

Hidden in darkness, the two stallions quietly made their approach through the city, covered by various structures. A number of passing ponies gave them odd glances, recognizing them, but they paid no mind.

“Marcellus, there is a curious thought growing in my mind. Given our circumstances, do you think a ‘white spirit’ may come to help us?”

“A ‘white spirit’? You mean the Aurum?”

“Is that what they are called?”

“Timeless spirits, here since the dawn of creation. Bringers of light, of hope, protection, and guidance. They carry great power, even able to restore life from the threshold of death. As much as we may hope, I don’t expect one to grace us with their presence. They have many matters to attend to, and they are quite scarce.”

“One can hope, indeed.”

As they reached the tower, Marcellus gave pause.

"We will need to scale the walls of the tower. Marcus could be anywhere inside. Hmm, this could be a chance to test our levitating abilities..."

Felix sighed. "Why don't you just face him? All of this runaround. Marcellus, I know you. You avoid him, don't you?"

Marcellus recoiled slightly, looking away. "I... can't. All I've ever wanted is his love. But he can't even give me that. I don't want to distance him even further by facing him."

"You will need to when we're done here. You know that."

"Let's just focus on the task at hand, alright?"

"Alright, then."

At the base of the tower, Marcellus focused on their destination. It was such a height, one could worry that they would pierce the veil of the cosmos if they reached it. A height that could make one lose their balance. He closed his eyes, and his horn was alight with the fiery hues of his magic.

His hooves raised from the ground as he was lifted into the air, an aura of light surrounding his strong form. Felix lit his horn as well, his cyan magic floating him above the ground.

"Hey, it's working!" Felix exclaimed, looking ecstatic.

"Indeed! But, try to focus. If we forget ourselves, it will be quite far to fall. Onward and up, my dear friend."

They began to rise higher above the ground, rising higher up the tower. From their vantage point, Marcus would not be able to see them from his balcony. The city fell below their feet, growing ever more insignificant as they rose into the heavens. The Aegis grew near; a beautiful structure of sapphire crystals nestled into the apex of the tower. As they reached the top, they rested their hooves on a platform surrounding the structure.

"It worked! Marcellus, look at it! It's so beautiful..."

"It is... One would wonder why such a divine creation would go forgotten. At the whim of a madman, even the most precious of things can become refuse."

They approached the center of the structure, where a large monolith glowing with a deep blue light awaited them, humming idly.

"What do you think will happen when we touch it?" Felix asked.

"We will take a great step forward in protecting our keep."

Marcellus pressed his hoof against the crystal monolith, and at once it came to life, shining its light into the sky and vibrating loudly. Felix added in his hoof as well, and the Aegis doubled in power. A vibrant blue light burst upward into the clouds, which then split apart and spread across the night sky. A shower of cerulean shards which melted together as they reached the ground, until they formed a perfect dome of protective light around the city. The two stallions looked around them, their faces lit with joy, as they watched their achievement.

"Have you ever seen such a sight..." Felix was taken aback, in awe of the shield's beauty.

Marcus saw the deep blue light descend from the sky as he looked through his window, listlessly watching the city. It immediately alerted his senses, and his face twisted into anger as his heart raced. He knew what had happened.

The New Battlefield

A great evil loomed in the distance, a short distance from Valencia. A growing sickness, lingering in the dark. An army of skeletal forms, charred black by malice, led by an ashen stallion, wisping with smoke and blood-red eyes which glowed brightly in the night. Ryken, the King of Umbra, watched as the light scattered over the distant city. A twisted smile stretched across his face, revealing sharpened sets of yellowed teeth.

"They think their old magic will save them," he said. His voice was low and gravelly, like the growling sounds of a lurking predator. "They are mistaken."

Around him lay the ruined ashes of a once-green village, black crystals jutting through burned wooden beams glowing with the embers of the life that once stood. Not a soul was left, only the shadows of a deathly realm.

"Soon, these wretched creatures will feel true terror. They will plead for their lives. They will suffer an eternity of torture at our hands. We're ready."

Back in the city, the commoners saw as the shield descended, and immediately they grew concerned, with whispers of a possible invasion filling the cobblestone streets. There was already talk of the outer villages being destroyed, and they began piecing together what was happening. Some grew afraid, rushing to their homes to collect their loved ones.

Marcellus and Felix descended from the tower with their magic, and upon seeing the commotion, they ran to the town square, abandoning their previous attempts at stealth. They knew that the townsponies would flock to them for answers, and they gathered at the center of the open forum, past the vendors who were then closing up shop. They were surrounded by ponies on all sides, all asking similar questions.

"What's happening?!"

"Are we under attack?"

"We are aware of the alarm this may cause," Marcellus spoke loudly and with confidence. "We have activated the Aegis Clypeus, the old magical barrier that protects the city. What you have heard is true - we are being invaded by the shadow army."

Sounds of alarm spread through the crowd, many of them holding their foals close. The threat of war grew, and their hearts were soft.

"We must evacuate!"

"Why would we flee into the darkness? The shield will protect us!"

"Indeed," Marcellus replied. "By the great magic of our forebears, you will be kept safe. No shadow can penetrate our light."

"Marcellus," Felix chimed in. "Are you certain of this? Not a single soul has seen the Aegis for quite an age. We don't know of its capabilities. It may work, but are we willing to risk it? There are so many good lives at stake. Perhaps we should evacuate as well."

"As I said, it would be too dangerous," Marcellus said, looking back to Felix. "And if we were to evacuate, we would need approval from Marcus to issue the order."

"You will do no such thing!" Marcus stepped through the flocks of ponies, a scornful look across his face. The bystanders began whispering to each other as they stepped aside for him. "All the fire and ruin of the blackened realms makes its way to our doorstep. Against the evil that awaits us, there can be no victory. They will find you, they will take you, and you will beg for death at their mercy!"

There was a strange flash in Marcus' eyes. Only for a very brief moment, enough for Marcellus to notice and blink.

"I will not just lay down my arms and give up hope, father!"

"That's 'my lord' to you."

"We must fight while there is still hope!"

"There is none!" Marcus shouted, now facing his son. "You merely waste your effort. This feeble attempt at fighting, this evacuation, this.. shield! If you had any dignity, you would accept your fate and bring it down!"

"Do you really want to be known for this, my lord? A leader so distraught and desperate that he willfully sacrificed an entire city rather than put up any kind of resistance?"

"You know nothing of this matter!"

"Marcellus," Felix said quietly. "We are Legionnaires. We only serve as guards. We answer to Magnus. Face your father, show some authority."

Marcellus sighed, glaring at his father, who returned the favor. He turned once more to face the onlookers, and took a deep breath.

"By the name of the Great Magnus de Vaspian, and as the highest ranking officer, I hereby declare martial law over the City of Valencia. Authority now belongs to the Legion, who will be issuing orders and declarations from this point forward. My first declaration is as follows: The city must empty. Despite the shield's presence, we are unwilling to lay your lives against it. Every mare and foal will be escorted to the nearest city of Astica by our troops. Every stallion able to bear arms will be required to stay and fight. Any mare willing to stay will be welcomed as well."

There was immediate chatter among the crowds, with some rushing to their homes to collect their things. Many stallions protested, finding it unfair that they must fight. Marcus was distraught, shooting a nasty look at Marcellus.

"You cannot do this!" Marcus shouted.

"I already have. I only ever wanted to please you, father, and I held this back for as long as I could. But I'm done. I will leave you to your madness." Another soldier approached Marcellus, with his armor in tow, presenting it to the captain. Marcellus took his helmet and placed it upon his head. "I have a city to save."

Marcus growled and grasped at Marcellus as he tried to walk away, yanking him back. "This city is MINE!"

Marcellus' horn came to life, and a fiery light formed beside him. A magical blade was conjured, his weapon of choice. He pushed Marcus back and placed the energy sword against his throat.

"You know the penalty for going against His Majesty, Lord Marcus. Don't make yourself the first casualty in this city. Back away, return to your tower, and wallow in your own misery." The sword dissipated, and Marcellus walked away, as Marcus stood still and watched, fuming. Felix was delivered his equipment as well, and he followed behind Marcellus, looking at Marcus and shaking his head.

Preparing for War

The city was once again active as its denizens began gathering their belongings, organized by Legionnaires into separate groups. Marcellus oversaw the evacuation, watching as a large number of stallions, young and old, lined up at the barracks to receive their assigned weaponry and armor.

While there were a great many who were in their prime fighting age, there were still a troubling number of stallions who were either advanced in age, or had not yet reached adulthood. Marcellus and Felix watched as the line continued. Each stallion made eye contact with them, before shifting their focus ahead or to the ground. Every one of them carried a solemn expression, a look of trouble, numbed by their situation.

"They look so young..." Felix said quietly.

"No, not yet old enough to have felt the comfort of a mare."

"Does that not trouble you?"

"It does greatly. But there is much at stake, Felix, and we need all the help we can muster."

"Are we possibly sending them to their death? I'm not sure of how I feel about this."

"Any stallion should consider it an honor to die for their home. Would you not agree?"

Felix could not speak.

"Is that not why you joined the Legion?"

"Marcellus... I joined so I could be with you."

Marcellus made a quick smile, looking at the ground.

"Fair enough. And I'm glad you're here with me. But remember the oath."

"Of course, Marcellus."

"These stallions are to be considered honorary Legionnaires for their service. We owe them the same respect, and they owe us the same honor. They know the law."

"How often are law and morality found together?"

"Mmm. We need their help. There is no other option."

"All has turned to desperation and madness," Marcus snarled as he ascended his tower. "Why do the fools fight? Do they know what comes for them, for us? They will never achieve victory."

As he ventured through his hall, his horn came to life, lighting his scowling face with a red glow. The many paintings began to drop from their fixtures one by one as he passed, their frames shattering as they hit the floor.

"All of their work was an exercise in vanity. They left me with nothing, and now my own son turns against me. They have betrayed me. They have all betrayed me."

Atop the city's outer wall, Marcellus watched as groups of citizens were led away from the city, protected by soldiers and trained unicorns. Felix approached his side.

"Do you think they will be attacked?" Felix asked.

"Hm... after some thought, I doubt that they would expect us to attempt an evacuation with the barrier in place. There will be wildlife on the road, but the shadow army's eye is fixed on our walls."

"They will see it."

"The army will be attacking from the southeast, where Valencia's outer villages once stood. The evacuation is taking place in the northwest, outside of their view. If they are seen, it will not be by many."

"I hope you're right, Marcellus. Let us wish them safe passage to Astica."

"Astica, the city of pretenders," Marcellus replied. "They prize their wine and gold more greatly than their fellow ponyfolk. The only value they bring to me is their spiced cider, mulled with cinnamon and nutmeg."

"Quite a thing to remember."

"The only thing that would bring me back if not for the invasion. I know not whose company would be worse, theirs or the Umbrum."

They stepped down from the high walls and patrolled the city, watching as his soldiers and the civilian volunteers prepared. Soldiers teaching the civilians various techniques, and unicorns practicing their magic. As he walked by, Marcellus saw a young unicorn let out a stream of blue light from her horn, watching it spread through the air and stepping aside as it winded its way past him. It then dissipated into sparks, leaving a brief tingling sensation on his skin. Appealing to look at, but perhaps not useful.

"How many do we have, Felix?"

"According to the last approximated count, we have one thousand Legionnaires on hand, two thousand civilian stallions, and three hundred mares ready to fight."

"As ready as they can be. One would hope for greater numbers against our current foe, but we will do what we must."

“A total of three thousand three hundred combatants… against an army of what we estimate to be eight thousand. The odds are ever against us.”

“I find no reason to despair. It isn’t always about numbers when at war, after all.”

“That is true. Do you remember the Battle of Pilomentia a few centuries ago, when the vast armies of the Northern Separatists were forced through a narrow corridor to reach their target, thus leaving their numbers useless?”

Marcellus chuckled. He remembered it quite well. Those Crystal Ponies of the North had made numerous attempts to break away from the Empire. Every attempt failed, to their dismay.

“Yes, I remember,” Marcellus said. “Though things are somewhat different now. We have no narrow spaces, and our new enemy is much more fearsome than a few rebels.”

“I hope we make it through, Marcellus. I really do.”

“I do, too,” Marcellus sighed. “For now, though, we should get some rest. The night is late, and we have much to prepare for.”

“Hmm. Alright. I don’t feel like I’ll get much sleep though. My mind races with endless thoughts.”

“Try.”

The Siege

The day of the invasion was soon upon them. The streets that were once filled with life were now desolate, save for the calm quiet of the coming storm, and the natural fear that every battle-hardened soul left stifled within their hearts.

The archers shared their ranks with unicorns, skilled in ranged magic, and down below the city walls, the hoof soldiers spent their time giving the civilian volunteers as much help as they could give. The sun was nearing its apex in the sky, and Marcellus and Felix were within their barracks, almost ready. Shirts of chainmail across their chests, held secure by silver plating and pauldrons. The battle ahead lay heavy on their hearts, though their faces remained stoic.

“The soldiers take their bastions,” Marcellus said. “The long dark of shadow looms before the ancient, mighty walls of our city. Our doom is near at hoof, some may say. The valor of our ponyfolk will carry us through, through the poisonous bite of the black magic that our foes will bring us. Bowstrings will break, sharpened iron and tempered steel will shatter. Magnus, the Great and Divine, be with us on this day. I have hope. We will make it through.”

Felix could say nothing. He felt it in his heart. Marcellus’ sentiments were well-placed, but it grew ever clearer to Felix that this may be their last battle. For who could possibly expect victory against such odds? It was a fool’s hope. But yet, he knew that Marcellus was no fool. He opted to trust in his old friend, as he always has.

Dark clouds spread across the sky, but the sun still fought its way through an opening, giving a bleak daylight to the scene around them. They ascended the steps of the outer wall, joining the numerous warriors who took position there. There, in the grassy fields outside of their city, an army of darkness had finally made its way to their keep. Thousands of dark creatures, chanting and hissing, ready to burn down and destroy everything they knew and loved.

Marcellus was ready. The vibrant red flag of the Solar Empire waved above them, as he marched behind his ranks, his face filled with determination.

“Take heart, sons and daughters of the Empire!” Marcellus shouted. “My brothers, my sisters, my kinsmen! Our time is now, our day has come, the day we strike down the accursed shadow that plagues our lands! I feel it in your hearts, the fear of our doom, the fear that the strength of our Empire will finally fail. The fear that all we know will be forsaken, as the serpents of Umbra shatter our blades and bring ruin to the age of Magnus, but we will stand firm! We will fight to the end! The sun shines through! The sun shines through!”

The soldiers all raised their weapons and cheered, filling the air with the triumphant sounds of passion and courage. The lifeblood of the Solar Empire, ready to give their blood to protect their home.

Felix took a deep breath, blinking away the emotion pulling through his eyes as he looked out to the sea of enemies that awaited them. Their best move at the moment would be to fire upon their ranks to thin them out as much as possible.

“Shall I give the order, sir? The Aegis protects us.”

Marcellus grinned. “Open fire.”

“Ready!” Felix shouted. At once, the archers all readied their bows, and the unicorns lit their horns.

“Aim!” Obeying their command, the bows were drawn back, and the unicorns positioned themselves.

“Fire!” At once, there was a loud sound of bows being released, and the charged sounds of magical bolts blasting through the air, and a massive storm of arrows and magic soared through the air at their enemy, striking a good number of them down.

In response, the invading army hissed, and fired back their own arrows and magic. But it was no use. Every one of their projectiles collided with the Aegis Clypeus, vaporizing into nothing. Marcellus chuckled, and ordered them to fire again, taking down even more of the approaching hordes.

“This is too easy,” Marcellus remarked.

High above in his tower, Marcus ruminated on recent happenings, in the dark of his stone walls and the shattered frames of his forebears. His breath shook, and he tossed his regal headband aside. His appearance was unkempt, messy, distraught, restless.

“The foolish ponies fight, but to what end…?” He said, “The horizon dawns red. Blood will spill on this day. What will come from this? Nothing more than the destruction of our kith and kin. Magnus… Why do you forsake us?”

Just then, before him, a vision of light raptured his senses. Taking shape, the form of a great, majestic white alicorn appeared, glimmering in the light, armored in decorative silver, draped in red tapestries and bearing the laurel crown of the Divine Emperor. Magus de Vaspian, the ruler of all living things, bestowed his presence upon Marcus.

“Marcus, son of Valerius,” Magnus spoke, his soft and masculine voice echoing through the walls of their hold. “What is your purpose here?”

Marcus could not even speak. He panted, shocked at what he now saw. He stammered, struggling to think of what he could say to such divinity.

“I-I… Your Majesty!” He quickly bowed as low as he could.

“You did not answer my question,” Magnus replied, his face stoic, turning to face the unicorn, studying him with his glimmering blue eyes. “What is your purpose here?”

“...” Marcus could not answer. The sheer weight of his situation instead brought a tear to his eyes. “I… I am the ruler of this city.”

“No… You are not. Marcellus rules this city now. You are naught but the shadow of a despot. You are the failed exercise in mortal failure. Your purpose is nothing more than to show the futility of corruption. You have no reason to exist.”

“No…” Marcus shook his head, backing away slowly from Magnus. “No, you would never say that. The Emperor is kind, loving, and understanding. You would never say such cruel things!”

Magnus dissipated, and quickly reappeared in front of Marcus.

“And who gave you the ears to hear such cruel words?!” He re-materialized to another side of Marcus.

“Who gave you the vision to even harken to my mere presence?! Did not I?!”

Marcus was breathing heavily by this point, backing away even further, his mind racing, his hooves tingling with anxiety. He burst through the doors to his outer deck, stumbling as he turned around to see what was happening down below. An endless swarm of invading blackness, waiting to breach the Aegis. Marcus’ lip quivered, and his face shook.

“So be it. The end has come... Magnus has condemned me...”

Down below, Marcellus ordered another wave of arrows upon the encroaching battalions. He was beside himself. The Aegis protected them, as they thinned their numbers ever further.

But King Ryken of Umbra had other plans. Pushing aside his underlings, he looked up to the attacking archers, and he formed a smile, displaying his yellowed, crooked teeth. With a loud hiss and a shout, a blast of profane magic exploded from his horn, smashing into the shield. With a few loud cracks, the shield burst into pieces, sending shards of magic falling onto the city. Marcellus was mortified, his face falling into sheer horror.

Ryken could only chuckle. “Too easy…”

At once, the invading Umbrum took aim and fired, and this time there were casualties. A number of the ponies stationed at the wall were struck, falling to their deaths.

“Take cover! Brace the gates!” Marcellus bellowed.

Felix echoed the command, and after some shouting back and forth, the marksmen above took cover among the ramparts while the soldiers down below assembled around the front gates to the city, barricading it and readying for attack. It was as Felix predicted.

The enemy was ready to breach the outer walls, and they brought with them siege engines to deliver their troops and rain fire upon the city. Catapults flung large fireballs at them, pelting them with a scalding hail that set fire to a number of more flammable buildings and struck a few soldiers directly. Siege towers swung open as they reached the city’s battlements, crushing the stone beneath them as a swarm of armored shadow drones emerged and began attacking the pony soldiers, who fought back with all their might.

The sound of clanging metal filled the air as the archers drew their blades to slaughter their foe. The sickly skeletal forms dropped as the steel plunged through their hearts, but more still came. Marcellus and Felix joined the fray as well, using their energy swords to cut through the invasion. They swung away mercilessly at their opponents, searing flesh, lopping off heads, impaling the blackened creatures as they came.

Marcellus took aim at the siege tower nearest them with his horn and fired a blast of light in its direction, the resulting explosion blasting it into splinters and lessening the numbers on the wall, but there were still more. Before they could dive into the fray again, there was a thunderous bashing sound against the front gates below them. Marcellus finished putting down his immediate foe, and the two of them rushed to look below the wall and investigate.

A great battering ram was poised against the front gates of the city, rearing again for another strike. A construct of black crystal, mounted within an engine powered by dark energy. The Umbra below were cheering it on as it drove itself against the gates a second time, sending vibrations across the wall. This as more siege towers made contact with their armaments and flooded them with more enemies. As their troops went to work against them, Marcellus and Felix leapt from the wall to the ground below to face the gates.

“Stand firm!” Marcellus shouted. “Whatever awaits us, drive them back!”

There was another blast at the gate, and the large doors were broken apart, swinging open and flinging debris at the waiting soldiers. They held firm, and as the dust cleared, they met their foes. The same skeletal creatures, Shades as they were known, joined as well by larger bipedal creatures. These Spectres appeared tattered and decayed beneath their blackened armor, with clawed hands and feet, their twisted and dark faces hiding beneath their hoods. Brandishing halberds and flails, they swung at Valencia’s forces, who fought back with all their might. Marcellus and Felix charged in with their energy swords, sparks flying as they clashed with their opponents.

Although they managed to bring down a good number, their fellow fighters were not always so lucky. A number were slain, some hewn by Umbra’s iron, others slung into the nearby buildings by the Spectres. The unicorn soldiers did what they could to help, utilizing their magic to blow away their targets and form protective shields around their combatants.

As the battle raged on, the Imperial forces were driven further back into the city. It was only a matter of time before they encountered the Umbrum army’s more unthinkable foes. In the midst of the fray, Marcellus panted as he struck down an uncountable number of evil creatures, only to spot a pair of toothy, shadowy jaws take form nearby. The air was filled with an ethereal hissing sound, and a large smoky equine figure formed before spreading into a mist and overtaking them.

“Phantom!” Marcellus shouted. At once, every unicorn lit their horns, and each pony soldier was coated in a barrier of light that protected them from the deadly mist. Some were unluckily out of their reach; Felix winced as their eyes darkened and their bodies shriveled away, collapsing to the ground.

After a few moments, the mist dissipated, and they lifted their shields to continue the fight. The legions of the Shadow Realms were upon them, scouring their bright city, overtaking their land. The marble and stone masonry washed red with the blood of the Solar Empire.

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.

The Days of Darkness

The shockwave from Marcellus’ magic crippled the high tower, and like a felled tree, it slowly collapsed. The living creatures below fled from its path as debris rained down, but the cursed spires remained standing. It was at this point that Marcellus finally regained awareness of his surroundings. He saw below him a cloud of dust from the falling tower, and to his great dismay, his father became lost in its wake.

“Father!” Marcellus cried, and he immediately dove down after him. He moved as fast as he could, tearing through the air and dodging past the flying stone fragments. He braved the dust cloud and dove past the remnants of the tower as it crumbled, hoping to regain sight of Marcus, but he could see nothing. He caught himself as he reached the ground. The destroyed tower came to rest a short distance away, and Marcellus quickly searched for his father as the dust cleared. It seemed hopeless - there was such a great expanse to cover, and so much refuse and rubble to look through. He had to try. He picked himself from the ground with his magic and began searching from above.

And there, lo and behold, his father lay near the ground, between two of the black spires, motionless. Feeling hopeful, Marcellus dove down to him, but what he saw immediately crushed that hope, replacing it instead with a sinking heaviness. His face fell cold. A number of dark glassy spikes pierced through Marcus’ body, soaked with blood. Marcus was no more. Marcellus felt light-headed, but still managed to rush to his father’s side. His heart was heavy with emotion. He rested his head against Marcus’, and he began to feel that emotion pooling in his eyes.

“No…”

He buried his face into his father’s neck and wept. He could do nothing else. He held on to him tightly and let it out. He couldn’t help but love Marcus, even despite everything - a love that was seemingly never once returned to him, and never would be. His city, his father, his home, all gone. Lost to history, lost to the ether. But it wasn’t over.

“You will suffer…”

A deep, growling voice came to him, its origins unclear. It felt unsettling, full of malice, and it sent a chill down his neck. Marcellus rubbed his eyes and looked up, but could see no one, and heard only the ambient sounds of battle.

“Who’s there?”

“He was a weak old fool…” The voice spoke again, each word like hate-filled poison.

A wisping mass of blackness unveiled before him; within it, the Great King of the Cursed Realm took his hoof-hold in the twisted city-scape. Ryken, Lord of Shadows, Ruler of Umbra, loomed over Marcellus, his charred iron-clad hooves cracking the pavement. His eyes were deep red, piercing into the unicorn’s soul as they glowered down at him. His mane and tail were of smoke and embers billowing into the air. His large frame was ashen gray, his torso covered by menacing spiked armor. A crown of flames rested above his head, and his horn stung the air with its vibrant red color. Marcellus was in no mood for bravery, and instead cowered.

“... And you are no stronger, Marcellus,” Ryken sneered.

“You…” Marcellus spoke softly. “You’re…!”

“I am the King of the Shadow Realm. The new and rightful ruler of all living lands. The harbinger of doom, the Death-Bringer.”

“Ryken…!”

“He was so fun to destroy…” Ryken used his dark magic to lift Marcus’ body from the spikes, despite Marcellus’ protests, and brought the limp unicorn to eye level. “Toying with his mind, distorting his vision. Breaking his will, and driving him mad!” Ryken grinned, looking to Marcellus. Marcellus was speechless, shocked at how much it fit. He knew that something wasn’t right.

“It was you!” Forgetting his fear, he stood to face the shadowy king, now more angry than afraid.

“How could you not tell sooner?” Ryken carelessly tossed the corpse away. “I would have thought a captain like you to be more intelligent.”

Marcellus growled. “Leave. My. City.”

Ryken laughed. “Oh, it isn’t yours anymore! This city belongs to me now. Moenia Tenebra, my new lair on earth. With it, I will launch a new campaign to finally rid this plane of you simpering mortal creatures!”

“By my life, by the grand divinity of Magnus de Vaspian, I will spend every thread of my soul fighting against you and all you possess. I will never let you win!”

“You will never stop me,” Ryken growled. “And now you must die.”

Ryken’s fearsome horn came to life with the crackle of red sparks, growing in intensity until a powerful bolt connected itself to Marcellus with a loud zap. At once, Marcellus was thrown back and overwhelmed by immense pain that tore at his very being, down to his bones. He writhed in agony, wailing and screaming for it to stop as the dark energy coursed through his body, but Ryken would not lift the attack. He was without mercy. Of course, he would attempt to give Marcellus a slow death. He had to fight it. He couldn’t give in. His fighting spirit would not allow it.

With a growl and a resounding scream, Marcellus fought to stand, legs shaking and body trembling, struggling against the pain searing into his flesh. He felt that presence again, that same warmth that joined him in the sky. Something was definitely watching over him, as he felt the pain lessen. He felt the power surging within him, desperate for him to let it out. And that he did. With another yell, he unleashed a powerful rush of magic that broke the torturous spell, and even surprised Ryken. Marcellus stood before him, breathing heavily, furious, defiant. Ryken was briefly surprised, but unshaken.

“Fine,” The evil king said. “We’ll play your game. Ready your weapon, worm.”

Marcellus conjured his energy sword, only to find it dwarfed by Ryken’s great blade of fire, igniting to his side. Ryken bore a confident smirk. Marcellus was unsure of whether he could contend with such a mighty weapon, but he had no time to think. Ryken raised his greatsword and made a lunge at the unicorn. It was fortunately slow moving, clearly cumbersome, and Marcellus had time to dive out of the way before it carved its way into the ground. His heart was pounding, and he had to think fast. Ryken jerked his sword out of the stone pavement and made a horizontal swing at Marcellus. He frantically jumped back to clear its path, but Ryken threw it back around again, closer. Marcellus tried to parry it with his own sword; the sheer force shattered his spell with little resistance. The dark lord growled and shouted with each hurl of his mighty blade.

Ryken made another overhead swing at Marcellus. Marcellus quickly enclosed himself a shield spell and looked away, cringing. There was a resonating noise as the blade crashed into the shield, along with a flash of light, and although it did indeed throw Ryken back, it also destroyed Marcellus’ shield and knocked him to the ground with a pained cry. Marcellus was disoriented, groaning as he laid on the ground. Ryken quickly composed himself and targeted Marcellus, making his approach and wielding his blazing instrument of death. Marcellus did the only thing he could think of to get out of this alive. With a flash and a sparkle of light, he vanished. Ryken stopped and searched the area for him, his anger building.

“You coward… You wretched coward!” He belted his frustration into the surrounding air as Marcellus got away.

Marcellus brought himself back to the ruined town square, now overtaken by the monoliths. Bodies lined the streets and rubble filled courtyards, their blood soaking the cobblestone walkways, only adding to the new oppressive atmosphere. So much death, so much hatred. One harrowing detail came to light as Marcellus walked past the corpses - almost all of them were civilians. The ones he had forced to stay behind. His heart was wrenched with guilt. Not only did he run from a fight, as his father said, but the blood of a thousand good ponies was on his hooves. He whispered, under his breath, the weight of his thoughts:

"What strength will turn the tides of this war? Where will our worldly nation falter, against the ever-looming threat of Umbra? There will be no peace, no reprieve from this eternal curse that invades our lands. The mortal realm itself is a sickness from an ultimate evil. We are but doomed creatures, fated to perish and return to the ether. Blood and screams, clamorous woes. That is their purpose. They will never relent. What strength will hold them at bay?"

Why did he continue? What hope was left? No, it was lost. Valencia was gone.

The Valor of an Old Friend

Rejoining his remaining soldiers, he entered the fray alongside them, fighting off any enemies he could. He hacked away at the nightmarish creatures before him, slaying all in his path, hoping to push back closer to the front gates. When the time was right, he gave the call.

“Fall back!” He bellowed. “Fall back to Astica! The city is lost!”

His soldiers obeyed, and they began retreating. They fought off any enemies they could, some slain in the process, all making their way toward the main gates. As Marcellus looked around, something came to his mind. He could not see Felix, his dear second lieutenant. He hoped with every inch of his being that he was simply out of sight. He wasn’t sure if his heart could handle another loss.

“Felix?!” Marcellus shouted, looking around as the soldiers ran past him. “Where is Felix?!”

Marcellus stopped a passing sergeant and grabbed her shoulders, visibly distressed. “Have you seen Lieutenant Felix?”

“Not in a while, sir! He went missing hours ago!”

“Where did you last see him?”

“Near the crash site of the high tower. But, sir, if you go to find him, you might not make it out with us.”

“I’m not leaving this city without him. Get your soldiers out of here. If I don’t make it out, it was an honor serving with you all. Carry on the light and flag of the Solar Empire. Avenge the lives lost on this forsaken land!”

He let go of his sergeant, who in return gave him a salute. Marcellus mirrored the gesture and dismissed her before turning back toward the site of the fallen tower. With a deep breath, he shut his eyes, and his magic carried him through space instantaneously to his destination.

As Marcellus re-appeared near the site, he failed to notice a Shade behind him, raising its blade and standing on its hind legs to strike him down. He turned around at precisely the last moment, but before he could raise his own sword, the creature lost its grip and convulsed, its sword clattering to the ground. Its body jolted, and a familiar deep blue blade of light burst through its chest. The sword was then ripped from its body, causing it to collapse to the ground.

“Ares!”

“I think I’m beginning to get the hang of this!” Ares engaged with another enemy, and Marcellus took his side to join and fight with him.

“Why are you still here? The city is lost! You have to get out of here!”

“I was on the other side of the city. We’re heading back now, but these monsters are in the way. Why are you here?”

“My closest friend and second in command is missing. I will not leave without him.”

“Then I’ll help you!”

Marcellus sighed. He could not deny that Ares knew his way with a sword. He never thought he would be fighting side by side with someone so young, but he found no reason to complain. Back to back, they readied their weapons for the incoming horde. Skeletal shadows, and tall nightmares on two legs. Bravely they fought, both using their magic as needed to push back the tide of shadow. Soon enough, Marcellus spotted a familiar figure, a tan stallion buried underneath the rubble and twisted steel.

“There he is!” Marcellus shouted.

“We have to get him out!”

Ares lifted away the stones and debris to reveal the unconscious stallion. Alive, but definitely not well. Marcellus rushed to his side, quickly checking to see if he was breathing, to listen for a heartbeat. Thankfully, he felt both. His friend was alive. Soon enough, Felix opened his bloodshot eyes, disoriented, but soon enough discovered his friend in front of him. The sounds of war echoed in the distance as the sky thundered, the clouds flashing and the ground shaking as more of Umbra’s creations took hold of the city.

“Felix!”

“I knew you’d find me…” Felix looked up at Marcellus, his voice weak and raspy, his fur matted, his body bruised, blood trailing from his mouth. He was weak, gravely injured. He placed a shaking hoof on Marcellus’ shoulder.

“Of course, Felix.” Marcellus bore a grin, despite the tears welling in his eyes. He was not much better, coated in the grime and blood of battle.

“Where’s your helmet?”

“I, I lost it,” Marcellus said.

“Oh. I lost mine, too.”

Marcellus looked down at his old friend, past the dirt and the injury, the dried blood. Into the misty violet eyes of his lifelong friend. “Do you remember the old days, Felix?”

“W-What do you mean…?”

“When we were young. When the greatest trouble we faced was with our parents. Before the great turmoil, before the fighting and death… Do you remember the games we used to play?”

Felix tried to take a deep breath, but coughed instead. “I-I remember… You would always get me into trouble with your adventures. And I would have to get us out of it.”

Marcellus chuckled, a single tear falling from his eyes and onto his friend’s chest. “Yeah. Your parents made the best apple pie.” He let out a deep sigh, dropping down to lay his head against Felix’s. “I miss those days…”

Felix himself could not keep his eyes dry, returning his friend’s affection. “Days long gone… Now all that lies in its wake is death. An endless fight against a merciless evil. There is no end! They will take the rest of our grand cities, and this world will fall!”

Marcellus lifted his head and looked into Felix’s fearful eyes. “Our blood runs with the strength and magic of our grand creator. We will fight back this darkness. We will not let the Empire fall, or allow its creatures to suffer this plague.”

“Marcellus… Are you going to leave me here?”

“No… I’ll never leave you. I promise that. I’m going to take care of you. Come on.”

Marcellus got up and lifted Felix with his magic, letting him rest on his back. “We’re getting out of here.”

Marcellus carried Felix away, Ares following behind. But, behold, another threat loomed from above. Dark terrors with bat-like wings, furred forms diving towards them with sharpened talons and rows of jagged teeth. Their screeching sounds filled the air as they came.

“Stryga!” Marcellus shouted. “I’ll provide us cover. We make for the front gates, no stopping!”

Felix groaned. “I-I always hated those things…”

Marcellus conjured a shield, blocking the flying creatures from reaching them. Their claws instead grasped at the enchanted energy as they ran. Onward they went, hearts pounding, lungs burning, begging for them to stop. Marcellus especially, as he carried the burden of two. But they could not stop. The gates grew ever closer, but it was such a long distance. So many terrible things tearing away at his shield. The infernal shrieking drilled at his ears as they fled, and a choice soon fell upon him. His focus weakened, and the barrier of light flickered. He had no choice. He had to run from another fight. He reached over to grab ahold of Ares, and as he lit his horn, he once again dissipated.

Beyond the Setting Sun

Marcellus and Ares returned to reality outside the gates, with Felix in tow. The Stryga were still after them. They bolted down the path as fast as they could, with Ares firing bolts of magic at them whenever he could. They soon rejoined the surviving militia as they galloped down the grassy plains, to their relief. As their distance grew from the newly formed dark city, the sky and surroundings returned to normal, and the foreboding atmosphere lifted. The sun returned, hanging low in the sky, but the stormy clouds remained to darken the city behind them. Ahead, the marvelous colors of sunset washed the sky; vibrant hues of orange and purple rising into the deep blue above.

The Stryga were still in their pursuit, swooping down to lash at the soldiers as they retreated. The unicorns among their ranks did their best to fight back, but they could only manage to take down a small number. The dark clouds stretched out above the creatures, as if to protect them. Their intent was clear - to wipe out every last soul who inhabited the former city of Valencia. One by one, Marcellus’ warriors were felled. He fired his magic at the accursed winged monsters as well, but he could only do so much.

“Keep pressing forward! We can make it!” Marcellus exclaimed.

“There will be none left standing when we do!” One soldier shouted.

But there, up in the sky, like divine intervention, a brilliant light shone upon them from ahead. It captured their vision, like a second sun giving life to the valley and hills. The cacophony of horrible shrieks behind them gave way to pained howls as the light gathered and focused on them. They were driven away, their flesh searing from the heavenly rays that smothered them, and they retreated back to their new home. With the enemy gone, The light lessened to a warm glimmer, revealing the form of a great alicorn above. Their magnificent white wings spanned either side against the warm colors of the setting sun, and their fur sparkled like the arctic snow. Their mane and tail flowed and floated freely in the air, covered in flecks of blue light. They carried a gentle expression, their eyes completely black save for their glowing blue irises. Their entire being carried a deep violet and blue glow. Their body was bright, giving off its own light.

“It’s a ‘white spirit’!” A soldier shouted happily.

“We’re saved!” Cried another.

The entire company slowed to a halt as the Aurum descended. Spirits of love, light, and happiness, existing since the dawn of creation. Marcellus had no breath left in his body, as he stared in awe at the spirit that stood before him. Every move they made was full of grace and poise, their sound soft, their hoofsteps light. They smiled warmly as they approached Marcellus.

“You have done well, Marcellus,” The spirit spoke, their soft male voice reverberating into the surroundings.

“I…” Marcellus struggled to find the right words. “I feel as though I’ve failed, greatly. Our city is lost. My father is gone. Thousands dead by my hooves… How can I have done well at all?”

“Oh, Marcellus…” The Aurum sat down in front of him. “Not every tragedy rises from your own deeds. You did all that you could to save your home and your keep, and you bear no fault for the evil that destroyed it.”

The Aurum closed their eyes and their horn came to life, glowing a deep violet. Felix’s body tingled and sparkled with light, and in moments, his injuries were all but gone. He prized himself from Marcellus’ back, happily returning to his own hooves as the blood and filth lifted from him.

“Praise Magnus, look!” Felix exclaimed. “I’m well again!”

The Aurum smiled at Felix, and then continued their work, healing and cleaning both Marcellus and the remaining soldiers, inciting a stir among them as they examined themselves. Marcellus looked up at the Aurum, and did the only thing he could think of. He threw himself upon the timeless spirit and hugged them tightly, wrapping his arms around them and burying his face in their soft fur. He deserved this moment of weakness. The Aurum was briefly surprised, but simply chuckled and returned the gesture, placing an arm around Marcellus and wrapping their soft, downy wings around him.

“I am truly sorry for your loss, Marcellus,” they said. “Marcus is at peace now. May his spirit reunite with Equus, as is the destiny of every wondrous creature that walks this earth.”

They gave Marcellus one final squeeze. He was amazed at just how soft the Aurum was. He felt serene, warm, happy, just being in their embrace. He felt as though every pain in his soul was cleansed from him. The spirit lifted his chin with their hoof, then planted a kiss on his forehead.

“You are an amazing pony, Marcellus, son of Marcus,” the Aurum spoke with a smile, “With a brave soul and a caring heart. I shall be with you, just as I have always been.”

“You mean…?” Marcellus had a feeling. “That was you, helping me before…? Why didn’t you appear then as you do now?”

The Aurum’s expression faltered. “I regret that the great evil present in Moenia Tenebra repels my being. I can imbue my magic within you from a distance, but I cannot bring myself there. As such, I also cannot bring Valencia back. I am sorry, once again.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” Marcellus said, looking up at the loving spirit. “You gave every bit of help that you could, and for that, I am forever grateful.”

The Aurum lifted their wings and stood, turning to Felix, who felt unsure of how to respond. He was not accustomed to the company of such a great spirit, and appeared more nervous, something that the Aurum picked up on.

“There is no reason to fear, Felix, son of Flavius,” they said. “For you are also worthy of recognition. Marcellus would have gone nowhere far without you.”

“That is indeed true,” Felix said. “And I owe you my gratitude as well for healing my wounds. Could I possibly, um, receive your embrace as well?”

“Of course.” The Aurum wrapped themselves around Felix, who graciously hugged them back. “You mortal creatures are such precious things. I adore every one of you.”

The Aurum ended the embrace and stood, stepping back to face them both as the sun fell behind them.

“I’m afraid I must take my leave,” they said. “For I am needed elsewhere. I will not ask you to remain positive in such a negative situation, but I will ask you not to lose hope. This darkness will pass, and the light will shine through once more. I will do all I can to aid you, along with the rest of my kin. We will banish the Umbrum from this world, and you will live in peace. Farewell, my dear ponies.” With that said, the Aurum spread their wings and took off from the ground, flying up into the air and phasing out of existence. It felt strange to Marcellus, how he already missed them. But he could still feel their presence within his heart. He was never alone. He looked back to the new city of evil, Moenia Tenebra; a dark haven of burned glass and red lightning in the distance behind them, protected from the sun by thick clouds. He ordered his troops to move forward, and they made their way to Astica.

At their new station, Marcellus approached the battlements of Astica’s wall to overlook their surroundings. There it was, Ryken’s new lair, off on the horizon. A single spot of blackness in an otherwise bright and idyllic landscape. He carried a somber expression as Felix approached his side, and he began to speak.

“Often now
Do I find myself dreaming,
For the moonlight shining,
The starlight gleaming;
For brighter days
In that city of white gold,
Broken by shadow,
The devilry of old.

A terror looms ahead
On the horizon it dwells,
A haven of untold evil
Of dark storms unquelled;
Though not all is lost
For even in dark days,
A light will spring forth,
And cast the malice away.”

“We will drive back the Umbrum and free this land from their treachery,” Felix said. “The sun will shine through.”

Marcellus looked to his oldest friend with a confident smile. “Together?”

“Together.”

The Young Warrior

The city was consumed by the dark of the starry night, blanketed by the cool glow of the light barrier encircling it. Marcellus was in need of rest, but his mind was restless. He had no desire to sleep, but little else to do. As he walked through the city streets to return to his quarters, he spotted a colt practicing by himself, by his estimate no older than 14 years of age. A mint-colored unicorn, with blue eyes and a short wavy brown mane kept under a thin headband.

He had taken upon himself to make good use of a practice dummy taken from the imperial garrison, and was wildly flailing away with his provisioned sword. Marcellus approached, clad in his shining armor, and the colt stopped to face him, appearing unsure of what to expect.

“Hmm, let me see your sword, young colt,” Marcellus requested. The colt handed it over, the magic aura changing color as it exchanged hooves. Marcellus inspected the blade up and down, and then swung it around here and there, showing much more skill and expertise in his movements. He noted that the handle was a bit heavier than ideal, and there was a lot of wear on the blade.

“What is your name, child?” Marcellus asked.

“Ares,” the colt said meekly. “Sir.”

“Well then, Ares, I am glad to have you with us.” Marcellus smiled.

“Captain Marcellus,” Ares said, “the other soldiers are saying we will not see another sun.”

Marcellus could see the worry in his eyes, and he lowered the blade to come closer, carrying a look of courage. “I cannot say for sure what will happen, Ares, but we must still hold out hope. We will stand together, no matter what.”

Ares looked at the ground a bit, then back up to Marcellus, who resumed his inspection. “I don’t know who gave you this piece of junk,” he said, “but I think I can get you something better.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that one?”

“The weight is improperly balanced, most importantly. Your swing will be diminished. Not to mention, this blade appears very old, and is worn down. It should be discarded, not given to our most valued fighters.”

“I did notice that it was a bit ‘back-heavy’,” Ares replied.

“Hmm… Are you skilled with magic, Ares?”

“A little? I’ve done a few things here and there. I can levitate things easily, and I once blew up my mother’s pottery.”

Marcellus chuckled. “Oh, I’ll bet you were in quite a bit of trouble there! No, I want to teach you something new. I want to bring out the fight within you. You will create a blade of your own will.”

“W-Wha…?”

Without warning, there was a flash of warm light, and a blade of pure energy materialized in Marcellus’ possession, like a sword of fire searing the air around it. The light it produced burned much more brightly than the nearby street lamps. Marcellus grinned, eyeing Ares’ bewildered expression.

“This would serve you much better than some old, battered sword, don’t you think?” Marcellus said.

“Wh… A-Absolutely! But… How…?”

“Every magic user can conjure such a weapon, with the right amount of knowledge and focus,” Marcellus explained, as his weapon dissipated. He took a seat next to Ares, who sat down in turn.

“The world’s magic flows in and out of us, within every creature, even those without horns to finely tune it. It knows how you feel, it knows your desires, and it waits only for you to speak to it.”

“So, I just… Tell it to make a sword for me?”

“Well, in a sense. The key to mastering the art of magic is being able to communicate and work with it. It can take a great deal of concentration for those who aren’t experienced.”

“How do I start?”

“Hm…” Marcellus spotted a small stone in the middle of the street, and then got an idea. “Why don’t you lift that stone for me?”

“Levitating? But, I thought…”

“Just do it.”

Ares shrugged and lit his horn, producing a deep blue magical aura which emanated from his horn. The aura surrounded the stone in question, and it soon lifted a good few feet above the ground.

“Okay, now what?” Ares asked.

“Close your eyes. Concentrate on what you’re feeling as you lift that stone. Feel the energy inside of you, and the words it conveys.”

Ares did as he was told, and let his mind quiet down as his breath slowed. The real world soon slipped away, and he was adrift in his thoughts. There was a spark, a racing impulse dancing here and there. It called to him, not with any spoken word, but he could feel what it was saying. His fur stood on end as he felt pleasant chills coarse through his body, shifting him back and forth through his journey.

The impulse grew louder, closer, until he could finally keep his eyes focused on it. A deep blue light before a sea of blackness, one which knew his name and spirit. He could see his chosen object floating in the air, but as he drew closer to the light, he saw more. Flashing images of life, nature, the sky, grass growing, the sun darting across the sky, animals decaying, spinning galaxies, copulation, running rivers, so much at once that it became overwhelming.

Ares quickly opened his eyes, and the stone fell back to the ground. He looked to Marcellus, appearing shaken, but Marcellus still looked calm as ever.

“It looks like that worked,” he said. “You called to your inner magic.”

“I… I felt everything. It spoke to me. It didn’t say anything, but I could tell it was talking to me. It knew what I wanted.”

“Good. You now know how to reach out to it. Perhaps you’d like to try asking it something else?”

Ares nodded and took a deep breath. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure if it would work. Eyes once again shut, he reached out once more to hear from that magical spark within him. His desire was clear in his mind, and to his surprise, his call was heard within the ether. A desire for protection, to pierce his foes and strike down his enemy with ferocity. He felt another wave tingling through his body, and as his visualization exploded with intensity, he heard a sizzling sound, and he felt a new source of heat near him.

He opened his eyes, and was excited to see a magical blue blade before him, ready to serve him as needed. He knew intuitively how to manipulate it, and swung it around happily.

“Hey, look! I did it!”

Ares was beside himself with his accomplishment, swaying the sizzling blade in every direction with a beaming expression on his face. Marcellus stood and watched the colt marvel at his newfound feat.

“You remind me of myself, Ares! I was just like you when I first conjured my magic blade. So filled with excitement and determination, dedicated to fighting and protecting the ones I loved most.” Marcellus paused for a moment, a hopeful look on his face. “I hope we can do the same today.”

Epilogue

In the years that passed, many campaigns were made to reclaim Moenia Tenebra and bring Valencia back to its former glory, but all failed. It was not until Magnus was informed many months later that he finally intervened, using his power to obliterate the entire site from above. Magnus received a great amount of criticism from every corner of the earth for his blindness to their plight, as well as his destructive solution, driving his subjects further away from him.

Marcellus and Felix led many great wars during their time in the Legion, eventually retiring and settling in the western reaches of modern-day Equestria in an untouched hamlet by the mountains of Unicornis, now known as the Unicorn Range. A reconstruction effort was led to rebuild Valencia, though sadly, Marcellus and Felix never lived to see the city return to its former glory. Marcellus passed on the year 4567 of the Magnum Age, a decorated hero of war, with his closest friend Felix following suit in the year 4572.

As the centuries passed, dissent grew within the Empire, until a series of rebellions were staged towards the end of the Magnum Age. Magnus himself was growing weary of the mortal plane, having existed within it for nearly ten thousand years, and risked becoming an Umbrum if he stayed any longer. With the death of his beloved wife during the final battle in Equestria’s southern deserts, Magnus finally ceded, granting sovereignty to every nation on earth before leaving the mortal plane forever. An end came to the Imperial era of the world’s history, beginning the new history of Equestria as ruled by Magnus’ son Aurelius, in the new Aurelian Age. After two thousand years of ruling Equestria, Aurelius and his wife Lucretia gave birth to two daughters, Celestia and Luna, who then began the current Caelestian Age as they bore the crown.

As for the Aurum, the mortal plane was so tainted by the eternal evil that their souls eventually fell to corruption, falling into shadow and becoming Umbrum themselves. They were seen less and less by worldly creatures, and as time went on, they passed from history to legend, eventually becoming a forgotten myth known only by avid scholars.

Legend and myth, fleeting moments of history. Another tale of days long past; of conflict and sorrow, good and evil, light and dark, black and white. This story has long ended, but there will always be more to tell in the future. The days of Marcellus and Felix may yet continue.