Chapter 93: The Truth Revealed
The night was still, the air thick with anticipation. Arixa stood with Marcus, Vira, and Thalron at her side, her “herd” in every way but blood. The gathered beastfolk surrounded them in a great circle, their faces illuminated by the glow of the ceremonial fire. It crackled and roared, but the tribe itself remained silent, waiting.
At the center of it all stood the Elder Seer, their deep-set eyes locked onto Arixa with something between sorrow and resolve. The weight of history seemed to hang in their voice as they finally spoke.
“Your past was hidden to protect you, but now, it is time you learned who you truly are.”
The Elder’s words carried across the night air like a solemn melody.
“Your father was a warrior, a leader among his kind. A Minotaur of great renown, feared and respected among the beastfolk. His strength was unparalleled, his will unshakable.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd, some in awe, others in unease. Minotaurs were known for their raw might, but Arixa had no memories of her father—just the faint echoes of a name she had never been told.
“Your mother was a Centaur, a Seer blessed with the gift of foresight. She saw things no one else could, things that terrified the ruling councils of both their tribes.”
Arixa stiffened. A Minotaur and a Centaur? Two different tribes, both of great power, yet known to be fiercely divided. A forbidden love.
The Elder continued.
“The beastfolk do not tolerate unions between tribes—especially between warriors of their caliber. Their love was seen as an abomination, and their offspring… a mistake.”
Arixa clenched her fists.
“They fled,” the Elder continued. “Not just to protect their love, but to protect you. For your mother had a vision—a prophecy of a warrior who would rise against a catastrophe that would end the world as we know it.”
The weight of those words settled into Arixa’s bones.
A warrior to stand against the end of the world.
Silence stretched between them before the Elder spoke again.
“But love alone was not enough to keep them safe. The moment your mother saw that vision, forces beyond the tribes took notice.”
Marcus tensed beside Arixa. He knew what was coming next.
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“The Followers of the Black,” the Elder said.
Gasps rippled through the gathered beastfolk. The shadowy cult had been nothing more than whispers in the dark, a nameless terror few dared speak of. But Marcus, Vira, and Thalron had seen their influence firsthand.
“They hunted your parents,” the Elder Seer continued. “Not because of who they were, but because of what they knew.”
Arixa’s heart pounded in her chest.
“Your father fought, holding them back so your mother could escape with you. But the cult’s forces were overwhelming.”
The fire crackled as the Elder let those words sink in.
“Your mother fled with you deep into the Wildlands. We do not know what happened after that. Some believe they perished. Others believe… they were taken.”
Arixa’s nails dug into her palms.
All these years. All the questions. The doubts. The loneliness.
They didn’t abandon me. They protected me.
Her lips parted, her voice a whisper. “…And I survived.”
The Elder’s gaze softened.
“You survived because you are special, Arixa.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Your Ki. It is not like that of the other beastfolk. It is… primal, untamed. It does not follow the natural flow of energy. It is shaped by your emotions, more than even you realize.”
Marcus and Thalron exchanged a look.
Vira crossed her arms. “That explains a lot.”
“It is both your greatest strength and your greatest weakness,” the Elder warned. “If you do not learn to control it, it will consume you.”
Marcus’s brow furrowed. He had noticed something about Arixa’s Ki during the Trial of Strength, how it felt almost alive.
Arixa’s breath was ragged. The emotions stormed inside her like a tempest—rage, sorrow, relief, purpose.
At first, her anger flared. “They abandoned me—”
But then, she stopped herself.
No.
They didn’t abandon her.
They saved her.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
The Elder Seer stepped forward and placed something in her hands—a small carved emblem.
Her fingers traced the symbol, the same one she had found during the Trial of Survival.
The final piece of the puzzle.
Her grip tightened around it.
“If they’re alive, I’ll find them.”
Her voice was steel.
“And if they’re dead… I’ll make sure the people who took them pay.”
Later that night, after the ceremony had ended, Arixa sat alone by a smaller fire, her mind racing.
Marcus approached, silent at first. He didn’t sit immediately, just stood beside her.
“You alright?” he asked.
Arixa let out a humorless chuckle. “That’s a stupid question.”
Marcus smirked. “Yeah, figured.”
A beat of silence. Then—
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Arixa admitted, staring at the emblem in her hands. “I’ve always known myself as a warrior. But now, I’m supposed to be… what? Some sort of prophesized child... savior?”
Marcus exhaled. “You’re still Arixa.”
She looked up at him.
“No prophecy, no vision, no past changes that. You’re still the same stubborn, warhammer-wielding maniac I met back in Xenor.”
A slow smirk crept onto Arixa’s lips.
She hugged Marcus, nearly squeezing all the breath from his lungs...she swiftly dropped him and wiped tears from her eyes.
“You’re getting better at this whole ‘feelings’ thing.”
Marcus laughed. “Don’t tell anyone.”
As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the tribe gathered once more.
“You have passed the three trials,” the Elder Seer announced. “You have reclaimed your past. Now, you must choose your future.”
Arixa turned to Marcus, Thalron, and Vira.
She saw it in their eyes. Trust. Loyalty. A bond forged through battle and struggle.
She gave a small nod. She wasn’t alone anymore.
The Elder Seer spoke once more.
“Your journey is far from over. If you seek the truth, you must be ready for what lies ahead.”
Arixa smirked. “I’m always ready.”
With that, they set off—leaving behind the past, and stepping toward a future filled with danger, mystery, and the unknown.
With their bonds strengthened and Arixa’s past partially uncovered, the group returns to their growing city—only to find that their absence hadn't stopped the fledgling cities growth.
