The sacred flames flickered solemnly in the Temple of Guardians as Tiwa stood at its center, her wings dimmed with sorrow. The Dwarf held the ceremonial staff tightly, and behind them, the ancient Guardians of Falcon and Shecon glowed faintly in the shadows of the cave sanctuary. Rita and Faro knelt before them, holding little Sulari between them.
“You have disobeyed the balance,” Tiwa said, her voice echoing. “With the world in peril, you chose isolation. With powers meant to serve the people, you served only yourselves.”
Faro, his eyes hollow, did not speak. Rita, tears brimming, looked down at her daughter’s innocent face. She could not argue. They had fled when their strength was most needed.
The Dwarf approached, holding out a silver chest. The Ring of Falcon rose into the air from Faro’s hand on its own, spinning once before dropping into the chest. Rita’s power boomerang followed, pulled away from her grip by an unseen force. The chest snapped shut.
“You are no longer Falcon. You are no longer Shecon.”
The light dimmed in the chamber. And the silence that followed was colder than any wind in Thundarr.
Banished, powerless, and shunned by most settlements for the chaos that had ensued after their retreat, Faro and Rita sought refuge in the only place that opened its arms—the humble village of the Pigmen, deep within Thundarr Forest. There, huts of bark and leaf formed winding paths through the undergrowth. The Pigmen elders, long forgotten by the high cities, offered shelter. Not because they owed them anything—but because of little Sulari.
The villagers adored her. Her laughter reminded them of an ancient prophecy—a child born of fallen light who might one day restore it.
Faro worked as a carpenter’s apprentice, building huts and fences. Rita tended to herb gardens and taught Pigmen children to read. They were simple lives, far from the thrills and dangers of heroism—but full of humility and quiet healing.
But even as they tried to forget, danger was brewing again. For in Thundarr City, Cal Faros, now allied with Mr. Clown and Flint, was using his family name to rise in politics and media, declaring himself the only “true savior” of Thundarr. The betrayal was complete—and public.
Meanwhile, far away in the pigmen village, little Sulari began to hum in her sleep, her voice eerily harmonic with the wind, as if the world was whispering to her.
And deep in the forest, the cave where the Ring and Boomerang were sealed began to glow softly once more.
The Son of Shecon.
Life in the humble Pigmen village was slow, muddy, and filled with the sounds of snorts and laughter. Rita, once the glamorous and fierce Shecon of the forest, now wore simple robes stitched by hand. Faro hunted and carved tools. And baby Sulari ran barefoot through the puddles, laughing like sunlight.
But on the morning of the Crimson Moon, Rita went into labor again.
The birth was not easy — the village shaman Pigmu chanted old rhymes while the midwives poured herbs into boiling pots. At dawn, a cry rang out.
He was a boy.
And… he had the ears and snout of a Pigman.
Rita was speechless as she held him. A chubby, healthy little creature with her green eyes but unmistakably Pigman features. The villagers rejoiced. “He is one of us,” they declared. “He is the bridge between bloodlines.”
A Mysterious Birth in the Pigmen Village.
Months after settling into the quiet life in the Pigmen village, Rita gives birth to a child whose features stir whispers among the villagers. Faro, confused and heartbroken, begins to question the nature of their isolated life and whether something happened while he was away helping the village. Rumors swirl — did someone betray their trust? Or was there an ancient Pigmen enchantment at play?
Still Faro named him Pifo Faros — a name met with curiosity and celebration.
At first, Rita struggled. She wondered if their exile had cursed them somehow. Had the withdrawal of the Ring and Boomerang affected her body? Or was this fate’s way of reminding her that heroes do not get to live happily ever after?
But as months passed, the little boy grew strong and clever. He could speak with the pigs. He could sense earthquakes seconds before they came. And unlike other Pigmen, he had no tail — a symbol, said Pigmu, that he was “destined to walk in two worlds.”
Faro and Rita loved him deeply. Sulari loved her baby brother even more.
But far beyond the forest, whispers began to spread.
“The Faros have bred in the mud,” sneered Mr. Clown in his office, watching through a surveillance crystal.
Cal Faros — still publicly noble but privately vengeful — stared long and cold at a picture of the Pigman baby. “A brother born of pigs,” he said. “This family… has lost all honor.”
And in the shadows, Flint Faros laughed.
The Enchantment of the Pigmen Village.
Months had passed since Faro and Rita were stripped of their powers. No longer Falcon and Shecon, they now lived simply among the Pigmen, a strange and reclusive race hidden deep in the mossy groves of southern Thundarr Forest. Though grateful for the village’s hospitality, Rita often wandered near the tree-lines at dusk, eyes heavy with longing for her lost legacy, her fingers tracing the faint imprint where her power boomerang used to rest.
But change came again — in the form of a newborn.
Rita gave birth to a second child: a boy. But from the first moment Faro saw him, his heart seized.
The infant’s features were unmistakable — his ears pointed outward in the traditional curve of the Pigmen. A faint pinkish hue tinted his cheeks, and his nose was flatter, broader, with small tusk-like teeth forming behind the gums.
Faro held the child silently while Rita wept with joy. Yet deep inside, something turned cold within him.
That night, Faro slipped away to meet with Tiwa.
“There are enchantments in the forest, Faro,” Tiwa warned, her voice as distant as wind through dead leaves. “And the Pigmen… they are not without secrets. There are legends of dream powders and ancient pacts. You must not accuse without truth. But the truth is hidden beneath layers of illusion.”
Meanwhile, Rita began having flashes of blurred memory — of a fog-filled night, flower petals falling through the air, and shadowy shapes entering her room. The Pigmen elders claimed it was a dream-blessing — a vision of fertility gifted to those who lost their power.
Faro remained distant. He cared for the child, but suspicion gnawed at him. Were they victims of a magical deception? Or… had something more intentional happened?
As whispers began to grow among villagers, Rita secretly began her own investigation — determined to find out what happened that night.
And elsewhere in Thundarr City… Mr. Clown and Cal Faros were watching everything unfold, laughing from their tower as they prepared the next phase of their twisted plan.
The Secrets Beneath Pigmen Village.
It was quiet in Pigmen Village, too quiet. The cheerful oinks and guttural songs of the Pigmen had grown hushed, their eyes shifting whenever Rita passed. Her newborn son, whose features bore uncanny resemblance to the local race, was healthy — but the mystery of his conception gnawed at her. She had no memory of anything unusual… only the faint scent of flowers that night, and then darkness.
With Faro out on a food hunt, Rita slipped into the old shrine near the edge of the village — a place the Pigmen never talked about. Inside, she found carvings and murals: images of soilwomen with glowing eyes, sleeping under petals, surrounded by Pigmen with raised arms. At the center of the floor was a circular indentation… a perfect place to grind sleep flower powder.
Rita’s fingers trembled. Someone had drugged her that night.
But why?
That evening, she confronted Elder Gurok, the wisest Pigman. He denied everything at first, chuckling nervously and oinking about “dreams being sacred.” But when Rita brandished the Shecon amulet she had hidden in her cloak — the one that still shimmered faintly with dormant power — his eyes widened.
“You weren’t supposed to remember,” Gurok finally confessed. “The Old Magic… the one from the time before Sol. We thought you were chosen.”
“Chosen?” Rita asked, her voice shaking.
“A prophecy,” Gurok grunted. “Of the Star-Born Woman. She who bore a child of two worlds would break the curse of the forest.”
Rita’s breath caught in her throat. Was her son part of a larger plan? Or had she simply been used?
Now caught in a web of ancient prophecy, ethical betrayal, and secret powers stirring in the woods, Rita must decide: expose the Pigmen’s truth to Faro and risk tearing apart their fragile family… or raise her strange, gifted child in silence — and watch what fate has in store.
