‘Bhan, don’t do this.’ his sister pleaded. ‘You don’t have to.’ The guards in front of her knew it was no use. Bhan had gained notoriety in the area for his stubbornness. He was quick on his feet, everything else about him was unmoving. Rumor had it not even the elements of Nature itself were able to bring him down. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Everything around him just had to conform.
‘Believe.’ The mumble was hidden behind another stomp to the earth. ‘Did you listen to pa and ma, Niin?’ Another small earthquake. ‘Did they teach you nothing?’
Having seen this before, the guards knew where it was going. ‘Stop now!’ one shouted. ‘The wall will stop you, whatever happens here.’ For all anyone knew, that guard was right. The wall had stopped everything. It had kept the elements out, stopped fugitives in their tracks and provided shelter from many waged wars. The embodiment of stability, even more rigid than Bhan.
‘Pay attention Niin.’ The words slowly rolled out of his mouth. He had to swallow. ‘This is how you fight for what you believe in.’
One last shaking of the ground sent a small spike shooting out of the earth, right by his feet. He grabbed it, like a hilt, and from the earth he pulled a sword. Rocks and dirt had formed it, but it did not crumble. Not a formation. Craftsmanship. He pointed his creation at the guards, leaned forward, dashed.
TL;DR: dystopian YA fiction. I tried writing a quick combat scene at the end of this but I just can’t do it. He would’ve pulled more weapons from the ground too, it could’ve been kick-ass.