Alden looked down at his trembling hands, and hoped that what he had just heard was not a cruel figment of his own imagination.
Surely, there was just no way it was possible?
It didn't make sense.
'How could Maeve be the Matriarch?'
Age aside, one was a Transcendent, and the other, a child.
The only explanation Alden could think of was that it was an illusion - a very elaborate, incredibly life-like illusion. The young man recalled the soft sensation of the little girl's hair as he patted her, her smooth skin which was a far cry from Alden's rough and calloused own, her polished eyes reminiscent of a green sapphire, all of it was so real.
He struggled to believe it could be fake.
Then, Alden recalled a rumour from long ago about the Zephyr Clan. It stated that they did not just specialise in wind magic, but in casting illusions as well. They were able to combine the two, to form devastatingly real spectres that could fool even the most perceptive of people.
Alden's expression turned grim at the thought.
He paled slightly, realising the Matriarch had indirectly been grilling him for information, under the guise of a cute and adorable kid. The white-haired young man briefly wondered if Maeve was a fake persona the Matriarch had devised, or if it shared any semblance with her real personality.
Alden discarded the thought as soon as it formed.
'Doesn't really matter.'
He shuddered at the craftiness of the Zephyr Transcendent, before replaying the conversation he had with Maeve, and coming to the conclusion that he actually did not give away that much information, contrary to what he had first thought. At worst, the Matriarch knew of his ambition to become an Asteron, or at least his desire to reach their level one day - Alden had no idea if it was even physically possible to become a constellation.
In any case, Alden breathed a sigh of relief. The cunning Transcendent had not gleaned much.
Suddenly, he was very grateful for refusing to show Maeve his abyssal powers. Although, it saddened him slightly that he couldn't even trust a child in this calamitous Age.
'This is just the world we live in. Nothing I can do about it.'
Shaking his head, Alden tried not to dwell on his impromptu meeting with the Matriarch, and instead focused on the Tournament.
The first round of battles was just about to begin.
Down below, the first of the contestants stepped out into the arena.
They each came from a different tunnel, located on opposite sides of the stadium.
The crowd roared, eager for the clash to start.
With mana-enhanced sight, Alden made out the features of the two teams. The first possessed three figures, each with the pelt of a snow wolf draped on their shoulders. One of them carried a bow, while the other two wielded no discernable weapons.
The opposing Guild had sent out the same number, each member wearing a polished armour the shade of deep scarlet. Snarling half-masks obscured their identities.
The Rime Hounds versus the Rage Knights.
That was the introductory battle.
Alden was interested on who would come out on top - both were highly-ranked Guilds. A moment later, a horn announced the start of the clash, and the figures burst into action, much to the approval of the frenzied crowd.
Immediately, flames ignited around the Rage Knights, forming into incandescent swords.
The two unarmed Rime Hounds glowed with a pale-blue light, before their appearance shifted, large growls cutting through the air. The archer meanwhile, nocked a magical arrow condensed with an extreme quantity of ice energy.
Already, Alden could sense this would not be an easy fight.
He leaned forward slightly, his elbow resting on the cushioned armrest of his chair.
The pale-blue light dissipated, revealing the lupine forms of two monstrous Rime Hounds. Greyish white fur covered lean, corded muscles, flecked with icy flakes. A terrifyingly jagged maw jutted out from their lower jaws, thin, ice-blue slits for eyes.
The two wolves howled, before their hind legs bunched together, propelling them forward, a blur to the naked eye. Not to be outdone, the archer released their icy projectile with a resonant twang. Almost in tandem, two Rage Knights spun, their armour appearing like a fiery vortex amidst a storm of snow and claws.
Fire ignited along the length of their blades, seeking to char the wolves.
Frozen spikes burst out from the Rime Hounds, neutralising the strikes and creating a roiling mist. In that fog, the figure of the remaining Rage Knight disappeared. A second later, the sound of a dull boom echoed, signifying that the magical arrow had struck true.
Alden found himself holding his breath.
The mist thinned enough for the crowd to glimpse the Rage Knight's fate. A thunderous roar swept through them, the spectators elated that the fight had not ended so soon.
Peering closer, Alden noticed the Rage Knight wielding a sizzling shield.
As if by some pre-agreed signal, the fiery-clad fighters underwent a startling transformation, one growing larger, almost giant-like, one growing smaller, muscles compressing, while a thin blood-red film covered the last.
All three stomped their feet, causing cracks to run through the ground, before letting out a deep battle cry.
Alden's blood stirred in his veins.
He sensed a red haze clouding his vision. A second later, the effect wore off.
However, for the Rime Hounds who were much closer to the Rage Knights, it did not disappear. In fact, it seemed to grow stronger, the archer's eyes and that of the wolves's turning dark and furious.
…They had gone berserk.
Alden internally whistled at the sight.
With the loss of battle clarity, the Rime Hound's suffered from a lack of coordination. The archer released arrow after arrow, not caring for who it hit - teammate or foe. All that mattered was how much destruction they sought to unleash.
The wolves weren't any better.
They growled, frenzied rage burning fiercely in their eyes.
Sinewy muscles tensed beneath their hide.
A split-second later, they barreled towards the closest Rage Knight, the promise of blood apparent in their gaze…