Tales of the Matriarch date back further than the founding of Ceraviehl, with the first around 400 b.f. Like many fabled beasts, the Matriarch is described as a creature of immense size and hold powers beyond comprehension.

Many stories describe it as a gigantic saurian with scaly, stone-like skin, multiple long tails ending in pointed tips, and deep, red slits that will freeze or outright kill any daring adventurer. Despite the numerous tales surrounding the Matriarch, its existence is still debated and remains a mystery to this day.

Excerpt from Fables and Myths, written by Povum Ophiva

A group of three robed Mages towered over a squirming figure lying at their feet. One of them bend down, a sharp dagger in his hand. Silas pointed his drawn bow right at the Mage. “Stop.”

The group turned around. Silas noticed the youngest couldn’t have been much older than himself. “We are on official business of the Guild of Mages, boy,” the tallest of them said, holding up a document with a seal stamped onto the bottom. “Put that toy down, before you get hurt.”

“Looked like you were just about to kill that woman.” Now that Silas gave her a second glance, he could see grey scales covering her hands and forearms, making her Drakh lineage apparent.

“You don’t know what she is. Put the weapon down, now.”

“What is she supposed to have done?” Silas connected his Inner Landscape to the bow in his hands. Anticipation made his fingers tingle. He was relieved to see Zaya moving closer to his side, her eyes resolute.

“This is none of your concern. We will not repeat ourselves. Take your little fiancée, and leave.”

Zaya balled her fists and glared at the Mage. “What you say, nura? I am not fiancée!”

“You’re not from around here, are you little girl? Let me see your face.”

The Drakh tried to crawl away from the Mages. One of them kicked her with his heel, her head hitting the cobblestones of the alley. “Stay,” he commanded. The woman stopped moving.

Zaya screamed something intelligible and shot a brick at the offending Mage, missing him by mere inches.

“Oh, this was a mistake. Attacking Mages of the Guild is punishable by death.” Pulling two stones out of his pocket, a spark ignited as the scarred Mage hit them against each other. A flame sprung to life, hovering in the air. “Fireball!”

Silas released his arrow, but it got consumed by the torrent of fire. The third Mage whirled his arms around as the flames shot forward, and Silas could sense the air shifting. “Gust strike!” A sudden current blew through the alley and pushed the flame forward. What had previously been nothing but a small flame erupted into a raging inferno that filled the whole alley and blasted right at Silas and Zaya. There was no cover anywhere.

A plethora of leafy vines grew out of Silas’ chest, forming a rough wall they ducked under just as the blast of heat reached them. How had Gnarly done that? Silas began to channel energy into his bow. The two Mages were apparently using the Arts of Wind and Fire, and if they could take out one, they’d have much better chances.

His arms soon began to ache from the strain. Silas was pretty sure he hadn’t ever drawn the bow this far, nor channeled this much energy into it. Eventually, the flames abated. Silas stood up.

Taking aim for a heartbeat, he released. The sudden drawback made him stumble backward and lose his balance. Zaya caught him with one arm, her other hand forming an upwards-facing claw that pointed at the Mages. The arrow hummed through the air as it shot at the scarred Fire Mage, aiming straight for his chest.

Silas lunged at them while the arrow was still in mid-flight, spear in his hands. While he might be a passable archer, nobody of the Mages seemed to carry any weapons, making him believe they were mostly ranged Artists. He could use that.

The ground beneath the Mage ruptured as multiple sharp spikes of stone shot out. One of them grazed his legs, making him lose his focus. Silas gave his arrow another push to make up for the lost power.

He shouldn’t have bothered.

The arrow hit the Fire Mage in his upper chest, but it didn’t stop there. A cry of pain sounded through the alley as the arrow went straight through his shoulder. By now, Silas was almost upon them. Letting the power course through his body, he reveled in the feeling. He had never been so alive.

“Biting Wind!” Almost invisible, sharp blades of air cut at him, but Silas didn’t spare them a second glance. They wouldn’t reach him in time. A series of quick strikes from his spear struck the tallest Mage in his calf.

Pulling three arrows out of the quiver dangling from his hip, Silas directed them at each of the three Mages as he ducked under the wind blades. Yet, there was no force behind the arrows, and they cluttered to the ground by another gust strike from the Wind Mage.

A sudden light from his right caught his attention. He turned his head just in time to see a ball of fire rush at him, the Wind Mage feeding it with air as it grew in size.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Loud cracks came from behind him. Fist-sized stones hit two Mages, making them stumble and fall. Yet, they did nothing to dispel the flames that washed over Silas and scorched his skin. He fell to one knee, grimacing at the pain. The biting odor of burnt skin filled his nostrils. The Mages hurried to regroup. One held a shaky hand over the gaping hole in his shoulder, the blood pulsing through his fingers.

Silas righted himself. Zaya joined his side. Gnarly’s head peeked out from his cloak. “Not so long ago, I had still wanted to join the Guild. Now, seeing the bunch of you, I’m glad I didn’t.” Silas shook his head. “Attacking those who can’t even defend themselves,” he spat, his eyes flickering at the Drakh. “Is this what they’re teaching you back at the Guild? You Spellslingers know nothing about the Arts. You’re not even real Mages.”

The tallest of the Mages scoffed, spitting on the ground in front of him. “You’re one to talk, Hedgewitch. I wonder, how many lives did it take for you to stand where you do now?”

Silas balled his fists. “You know nothing of what I had to go through.”

Meanwhile, the Fire Mage had managed to stop the bleeding from his shoulder, the color in his face having at least partly returned. His hand still shook, however. “Why are you attacking us? We have done nothing to harm you, we just got this stupid mission from the Guild.”

“You were about to kill that woman!” Silas shouted, pointing at the Drakh woman who had just regained consciousness.

“Don’t you know who she is? That woman has a d—”

“Matthew!” the tallest Mage barked. “They are Hedgewitches. No matter what you say, they won’t see reason.” Lowering his voice, he said something Silas couldn’t make out. Matthew and the Wind Mage nodded, their eyes resolute. All three Mages acted as one. As if holding an invisible ball, the leader put both hands together. “Pull of the Void!”

Silas almost lost his footing. He and Zaya got pulled together, their feet slipping on the stone. Meanwhile, the Fire Mage ignited another spark. “Incinerating beam!”

A thin, yellow bar of flame began to form between his hands. Multiple gust strikes hit the beam, feeding it with air. Unable to move, Silas couldn’t do anything but watch as the liquid fire approached.

The walls on either side began to crack. Bricks loosened themselves, coming together in a makeshift barrier of stone. Vines grew from Gnarly’s arms, enhancing it. Fire met stone. The air shimmered with heat as the beam crashed into the barrier. But the stones couldn’t hope to endure the sheer power behind the attack. Soon, the stones began to glow in a dark red as the beam gradually ate through the barrier.

Silas tried to stand up to shoot an arrow at the Fire Mage, but the pull was too strong. He had to do something. While his cloak might be more resilient than it looked, it would be nothing but tinder fuel for the beam. His eyes wandered around, searching for anything to distract the Fire Mage with.

There. An arrow lay discarded near the Mage, its tip glinting in the fire’s light. Silas pushed as much energy into it as he could before willing it to shoot at the unsuspecting Mage. A cry resounded through the alley as the Mage lost his focus, the beam dissolving into ephemeral wisps of flame.

The stone barrier crumbled to the ground, the embers in it giving it an orange glow. Flames licked at an old barrel standing on the wayside. Zaya put one hand onto her knee before standing up.

“We need finish. Have little Yigun left. Much noise. City guards,” she panted.

Silas knew she was right. They needed to put an end to this and get out of here. With all the noise they made, someone had probably already alerted the guard, or even worse, the Invokers.

He nodded. “Keep them busy for a moment, I have a plan.” Above him, he saw a terrace standing high above the three Mages, with a single, thick wooden beam connecting it to the wall. Silas began to pull with his Art.

Spreading both her arms wide, dozens of bricks floated around the three Mages. One by one, they shot at the group, each stone aimed at a different target. The leader widened his feet. “Force shield!”

Deep thuds echoed through the air as the stones impacted the invisible barrier. Bricks hurled themselves at the group, yet the barrier held. “Do plan!” Zaya hissed through gritted teeth. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead and dropped onto the ground only to instantly evaporate from the remaining heat.

The wooden beam cracked as Silas pulled harder with his Art. Few and fewer stones impacted the barrier, and the Mages began to prepare themselves for another attack. He needed to be faster. “Gnarly!”

“Creak.” With their combined efforts, the beam shifted. Below, the Mages prepared another attack. Raising one arm, the Fire Mage pointed at Silas. “Fire—” Wood cracked as the beam finally gave way. With nothing to support its weight, the terrace dropped down. The Mages looked up, their eyes wide. “Swift feet!” The Wind Mage frantically pushed himself back as he tried to get out of harm’s way. The other members of his group weren’t that lucky.

Their screams were quickly drowned out by the cacophony of noise that thundered through the narrow street as the terrace crumbled down and buried them under its weight. Silas took a deep breath, trying not to look at the streams of blood that began to seep from the pile of wood.

A single hand stuck out and began to reach towards Silas as he moved away from it, its nails scraping against the rough wood. Zaya’s feet shuffled towards the Drakh woman who sat near the pile, a pole having narrowly missed her head.

“You also need leave. They kill you.”

The tall woman nodded. “Where will you go?”

Zaya helped the woman stand up, her eyes lingering on the dark scales covering the woman’s forearms. “Into house somewhere, then leave city tomorrow.”

“You can’t. The Invokers will find you in no time, they have people to track you. You need to leave the city.”

“She’s right. We can’t just walk into a tavern like this and expect people not to ask any questions. If they find us, we’re dead. The southern gate is nearest, we should be able to get out there.”

The Drakh woman shook her head. “Even if they do let you pass, the Mages will know where you’re going.”

“Then what do we do? Because we’re running out of time.” Silas glanced behind him, trying to peer into the gloomy alleyway. Clouds of smoke obscured his vision, the fire spreading rapidly. Eager tongues of flame slithered over the dry planks of wood, the hand under it now still.

“I know a way out of the city. I could show you.”

“Where?”

The woman pointed down the street. “Just two blocks from here, we might be able to make it in time.”

“Go then,” Zaya hurried her.

The Drakh led the way, and Zaya and Silas moved to follow her. A whisper made him look down. Wide, frantic eyes met his. “H-help me. Please.”

One of the Mages was stuck between a few bars of wood, his arm bend at unnatural angles. The fire covered more than half of the pile by now. It wouldn’t take long for the whole thing to go up in flames. Silas recognized the Mage—it was the one who had ordered the others to attack him and his friends, the one who had kicked the woman after she tried to crawl away. Silas’ eyes went hard.

“I beg you, I won’t tell anybody.”

Silas turned his back to the Mage. The man’s dying pleas continued to follow him long after they had gone around the corner, his faint whisper still begging for mercy as the greedy flames consumed the wood in its smothering embrace.