The Fall of Everything [Rewrite]

Set in the shadow of the Red Mountain, this massive camp reflected the legendary fighting skills of the Rhazgordians. From the outside, it was a war machine, born in the midst of chaos; and inside, strict discipline and absolute order reigned.
Everything was built in perfect symmetry. The stone barracks were made of red rocks brought from the mountains and almost the entire camp was covered with them. The barracks were arranged in long thin rows, each the same size, the same distance apart and in the same order. Even the smallest details were calculated. There was an air of discipline about the camp. Only the experienced eye could see that every move here was pre-planned and organized.
In the center, there were huge training fields. These large, dirt-floored fields were a sacred place where the young men of Rhazgord learned the martial arts. Older warriors lined up early in the morning to train the youngsters. The young disciples ranged in age from 7 to 14, and everyone, from the youngest to the oldest, was trained with the same discipline and determination. Barefoot children lunged at each other with wooden swords and axes, then waited for a command from their instructors. Training was the cornerstone of the Rhazgord warriors' struggle for survival.
Their every move was carefully watched. An unbalanced movement or an incorrect sword swing was corrected instantly. These boys learned not only how to fight, but also patience and obedience. They were brought up as part of the warrior tradition of the people. The instructors were harsh; those who made mistakes were punished mercilessly, while those who succeeded were quietly honored.
Next to the training ground were the tall towers where guards patrolled. Their gaze traveled from the mountainside to the horizon. They were strong and disciplined warriors, each one moving silently from place to place. Their eyes kept an eye on what was happening outside the encampment, while inside, order was never disturbed. At night, these towers were lit by huge torches and every corner of the camp was carefully watched. Silence symbolized security and discipline.
Everyday life here was based entirely on war. In the mornings the children trained, while in the afternoons the youth and adult warriors engaged in more rigorous drills. Each of them wore their armor and weapons with great care. The symbols on their armor reflected their rank and prestige. From the youngest children to the most experienced warriors, everyone had symbols, symbols that showed they were part of this warrior society.
The days were full of training and discipline. Everything went according to a set plan; it was clear when to eat and when to rest. The most basic principle of the encampment was that order could not be broken under any circumstances. Discipline was the Rhazgord warriors' greatest weapon.
Rhazgordians were not trained to fight; they lived for the fight. They wanted to be warriors because of their faith, to die on the battlefield. Every step, every breath was a preparation for the battles to come.
Belisarius could not believe what he was seeing. He had seen the discipline of the Rhazgord warriors before, but what he was facing here was on a whole new level. As he looked back at the city, he couldn't help but think how much more orderly and beautiful it could have been if half the care had been given to this place. Corvus saw his friend's admiring eyes and couldn't help feeling proud. He raised his head and looked up at the sun, which was just overhead. It was noon and the children's training was almost over. He nudged Belisarius, who was trying to observe everything, trying not to miss a single detail.
"If you're done observing, stop admiring and let's go. I'll introduce you to my brother, his training is almost over."
Belisarius knew almost nothing about Corvus' family. He had never asked, nor had Corvus ever told him. He wanted to guess for himself which of the children in the training grounds was Corvus' brother. As much as he wanted to watch more closely, Corvus wouldn't let him. Whoever he was, he could not disturb the order in the camp.
Belisarius spotted the boy standing in the front row, engaged in a sparring match with a boy a little bigger than himself. Although the boy's movements were full of inexperience, he was dominating his opponent. He had to be the best fighter in the group. Belisarius thought this young warrior was Corvus' brother. He looked at Corvus to confirm whether he had guessed correctly, but Corvus was looking elsewhere, a little angry, a little sad.
Corvus was looking at an instructor and a boy he was scolding. This boy looked much smaller than the other children in the training area and was quite frail. He was being scolded by his trainer because he had lost to his opponent, a girl, in a sparring match as soon as the fight started.
The boy kept averting his eyes, but the instructor noticed it every time and beat him mercilessly with an iron bar. Knowing there was no point in crying or avoiding, the boy stood still, praying for the instructor to leave him alone.
After a few minutes, it was time for the adults' training and the children had to vacate the field. As soon as the training was over, the children lined up again and loudly greeted their instructors. The children were excited to see Corvus and ran towards him as if the discipline they had just practiced had never existed. They formed a circle around him and started asking him questions, showing him again some of the movements they had done a few minutes before, asking Corvus to evaluate their movements.
Corvus paid attention to some of the children and ignored most of them. Most of the children Corvus was interested in were from the Tiamat Family and were very talented. Corvus was giving some advice when the loud voice of the instructor caused the children to run away quickly. Three old instructors approached with big smiles on their faces.
As soon as Corvus saw his old instructors, he greeted them with respect. Corvus respected these men very much. He had learned everything he knew from these men and if it wasn't for them he wouldn't be considered a candidate for the next Sanguinar. The instructors' gaze shifted to Belisarius. "Corvus, the young man standing beside you seems to have had a good training, but I am not sure if he is worthy to fight beside you, though with a little Rhazgord training he might make a good warrior," the oldest looking instructor said in Adler Language. Both Belisarius and Corvus were a little uncomfortable with these words, but Corvus put his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Belisarius is my guest and crown prince of the Kingdom of Adler. I brought him here with me today to see the skills of our warriors. And although he only started using a sword a few years ago, from what I saw on my last mission, he fights very well."
Hearing the name of the Kingdom of Adler made the old man curious. He had realized that Belisarius was a foreigner, but he had not guessed that he came from the Kingdom of Adler. He took a closer look at the young Belisarius in front of him. "So you are the prince of Adler. I came to your country when it was not yet so weak, and your ruler then, if not a true warrior, certainly had the eyes of one."
Belisarius was both honored and a little saddened by the old man's words.
"I am grateful for your kind words, sir. In fact, one of my purposes in coming here is to learn a few things from great warriors like you and use them to restore my country to its former greatness."
The old man liked Belisarius' respectful and confident manner. After a moment's thought, he looked at Corvus, his eyes fixed on the frail boy still training in a corner of the training ground. "If you don't mind, I would like to see Belisarius' skills." Corvus looked thoughtful. When he saw Belisarius nod, he said , "As long as you don't kill him, sir, I don't mind," and his gaze shifted back to his brother.
The old instructor said , "When the training is over, you can come and get your friend. I can guarantee that he won't die, but I can't guarantee that he won't get hurt." he said, and then nudged Corvus. "Go take care of your brother."
By the time all this was said, the soldiers had already entered the training grounds and started their training. Belisarius took his place among men much larger than himself. The old instructor took a special interest in him.
Corvus stood a few steps behind his brother, who was attacking the training dummy with all his fury, and watched him silently. There were mistakes in his brother's every move. He was aware of his mistakes, and the more mistakes he made, the angrier he got, and the angrier he got, the more mistakes he made. Finally, the wooden sword in his hand could no longer withstand the boy's mistakes and flew out of his hand. As the sword escaped from his hands, the boy fell face down on the ground. He injured his eyebrow with the effect of falling.
He was checking the wound on his eyebrow when his brother's shadow fell on him. The boy did not expect this at all, but he reacted quickly. He jumped up and saluted his brother like a soldier. " I'm sorry I didn't notice you coming, sir!" he said.
Corvus' sad look never changed. "How many times have I warned you not to call me sir, Volmir. You have not yet had the honor of becoming a warrior and I am your brother. Not your superior." he said as he wiped the blood from Volmir's eyebrow. He was also examining the bruises on Volmir's body. When he touched the bruise on Volmir's arm, Volmir groaned in pain.
"You've been badly beaten, go take care of your wounds."
"Sir... Brother, if you don't mind, I'd like to show you my moves..." suddenly his eyes widened and he looked a little scared "If you have time of course... I wanted to show Kaelyra but she didn't have time."
Corvus knew very well why Kaelyra was not paying attention to Volmir. Kaelyra was busy calming down the big families that Corvus had angered. Corvus felt a little guilty, but the young man needed to go and tend to his wounds. A serious expression appeared on his face.
"I told you to go and take care of your wounds!"
Volmir's hopes were dashed. He headed for the infirmary without disobeying his brother. He hadn't gone far when his brother's voice cheered him up again.
"Make sure you're well treated! Tell them to use Lightstones. Tell them to use my share of Lightstones! Then come and find me.I'll show you some moves. Maybe we can even have a little competition!"
Corvus sighed deeply as he watched his cheered younger brother's back. He was sad, but he had no time for that. He had to go right away and organize the soldiers that would be at his disposal when he defeated Varek. Of course, he also had to go and see his uncle Valerius.