Chapter: The Quiet Between Storms – Honeymoon of Rita and Faro
With the Stone of Tomorrow spent and Faro’s health restored, Rita and Faro made a rare choice: to pause.
For once, no villains chased them, no war drums thundered. No ringing of a sword, no cries for help. Just time — precious, fleeting time — for themselves.
They left Sulari and Pifo in the safe care of a trusted old Pigmen friend, deep in the inner forest, and mounted their pet woolly mammoth for the journey. Their destination?
The Shimmering Falls of Zephiron — a secret oasis said to be the most peaceful place in all of Planet Thundarr. Hidden within canyons carved by ancient winds, it was a place untouched by evil or ambition.
The Oasis of Lovers
As they arrived, the twin falls spilled glittering water down jagged cliffs into a crystalline pool. Giant orange blossoms floated in the air, and the only sounds were water, breeze, and distant birdsong.
“I can’t believe this place is real,” Faro whispered.
Rita smiled. “It’s real. And for once, it’s ours.”
They undressed and swam together in the warm waters, laughing like children, kissing like young lovers rediscovering what it meant to be whole. They camped by the water in a tent made of Shecon’s old cloak stitched with jungle silk.
That night, under the stars, they made love not as fugitives, not as warriors — but as two souls who had survived everything.
Reflections
The next morning, they sat by the fire sipping berry tea, wrapped in furs. Faro looked at the horizon.
“Do you think we’ll ever have a normal life?” he asked.
Rita rested her head on his shoulder. “We may never be normal, Faro. But we can be free. And maybe that’s better.”
They didn’t talk about Mr. Clown.
They didn’t mention Cal, Flint, or the D.E.C.
They simply let the wind carry their worries away… just for now.
As they lay entangled in the soft linen sheets of their hidden oasis retreat, Rita ran her fingers gently across Faro’s chest, marveling at the strength returned to his body — the vibrant pulse in his veins, the warmth of his skin, the renewed fire in his touch. “You feel like a man reborn,” she whispered with a smile, her green eyes shining with affection and desire, “It’s like the forest forged you all over again just for me.” Faro, overwhelmed with emotion, pulled her close and kissed her forehead tenderly. “You crossed the desert for me… risked your life for me… met the Witch of Westwick, and brought back a miracle. I owe this breath, this moment — everything — to you, Rita. I’ll never forget what you did.” Their embrace was not just of passion, but of a deeper reverence that had grown between two souls weathered by hardship, now rediscovering peace in each other.
Chapter: The Final Farewell to Falcon and Shecon?
The morning sun rose gently over the canyon oasis. Faro was reclining against a sun-warmed rock, shirtless, sipping berry tea, while Rita combed out her long, tangled hair with a carved wooden comb. They felt free. Renewed. Human.
That peace, however, was not meant to last.
A sudden shimmer broke the air beside their camp. A swirl of blue-green sparkles formed into a glowing orb — and out of it stepped Tiwa, the ancient forest fairy and guardian of the powers of Falcon and Shecon.
She looked solemn, her wings fluttering with a heaviness they had never seen before.
“Tiwa?” Rita stood up, wrapping her shawl hastily.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” Tiwa said softly, “but I come bearing truth… and closure.”
Faro rose, already uneasy. “What is it?”
Tiwa looked at them both, with warmth but also with finality.
“By bonding yourselves in love and flesh… by choosing family over duty, and passion over purity of purpose… the Power Ring of Falcon and the Boomerang of Shecon have rejected you.”
Faro’s eyes narrowed. Rita clenched her fists.
“Rejected?” Rita asked. “We gave everything for those roles.”
Tiwa nodded gently. “And you were noble… until you chose yourselves. That choice was not wrong — it was human. But it has consequences. The spirit of Falcon and Shecon must remain unentangled by bloodline or desire. Their power now lies with others.”
“Who?” Faro asked sharply.
“The Fourth Falcon now rises — a boy from the outer cliffs of Thundarr Desert. And Shecon the Second has awakened — a girl raised by the Warrior Dames, pure of mind and unbound by lust or legacy.”
There was silence.
“So it’s over,” Faro whispered.
“For Falcon and Shecon — yes. But not for you.”
Tiwa hovered closer and placed a warm hand over Rita’s belly. “You carry more than life. You carry a new path. One of the heart, not of the sword.”
She turned to leave, fading with the wind.
“Protect your children. Teach them. And remember — love is no less powerful than the blade.”
And just like that, she was gone.
The End of a Chapter
Faro and Rita sat in silence.
“I never thought we’d lose it like this,” Faro murmured.
“Maybe we didn’t lose it,” Rita replied, “Maybe we just outgrew it.”
They held each other as the waters shimmered, their reflections now no longer Falcon and Shecon — but simply Rita and Faro Faros. Lovers. Parents. Survivors.
And perhaps… the founders of a new kind of legacy.
As the sun cast golden rays across the peaceful oasis where Faro and Rita shared their newfound bliss, the air shimmered faintly — and from the mist, Tiwa appeared. Dressed in familiar glowing robes and fluttering with her radiant wings, she spoke gently: “The powers of Falcon and Shecon have been passed on. You are no longer the chosen.” Though bittersweet, Rita and Faro accepted the message, believing it to be part of their destiny. But that night, as they lay under the stars, something felt off. Faro stirred restlessly, haunted by shadows in his dreams — dreams where Tiwa’s voice echoed not with purity, but deceit.
But not all was as it seemed.
Far above, hidden among the ancient palms at the edge of the oasis, a motionless figure loomed — Murder Dog. His fleshless skull face glowed faintly under the moon, a grotesque beacon of death watching from the shadows. With hollow eye sockets and jagged teeth forever clenched in an eerie grin, he observed every move Faro and Rita made, never blinking, but breathing.
The Tiwa who had appeared was not the real fairy of Falcon, but a wicked construct of the Evil Master — a false guide, summoned by dark magic after Murder Dog relayed the couple’s location. The false prophecy was meant to deceive, to mislead them away from their true destiny and leave them powerless — but her message was a lie — a seed of manipulation meant to sever hope, fracture destiny, and leave Faro and Rita vulnerable for the final move in a far greater, darker game.
Though Tiwa’s imposter claimed their powers were gone, the truth whispered beneath the surface of the desert winds: Faro and Rita were still Falcon and Shecon. Their powers hadn’t been taken — only suppressed, lying dormant within them, waiting for the moment they would be truly needed again.
And someone else knew that truth all too well.
From the moment Faro first showed weakness, Murder Dog had never strayed far. Cloaked in shadow, with his skeletal face glinting under moonlight and his curved sickle always within reach, he had been stalking Faro relentlessly. He knew that as long as Falcon lived, the legacy of justice could be rekindled. And the only way to snuff it out forever… was death.
Murder Dog wasn’t interested in games anymore. The Stone of Tomorrow had changed the balance. Rita’s revival of Faro proved they still had something sacred — something powerful.
That night, as Rita slept beside Faro under the open stars of the oasis, the stillness of the dunes was broken by the faint crunch of bone and sand. Murder Dog had arrived.
And this time, he wouldn’t miss.
