Hybrid's Dominion

 **Chapter 4 Truth and Choice**

The longhouse was silent, save for the crackling of the central fire and the occasional creak of wood as the elders shifted in their seats. 

Paul stood at the center of the room, his greatsword resting on his back, his golden eyes flickering between his mother, Mira, and the grizzled orc chieftain Vulcan who sat on the raised dais. 

The weight of the moment pressed down on him, heavier than any weapon he had ever carried. He could feel the stares of the elders, their gazes filled with suspicion, curiosity, and, in some cases, outright hostility.

Mira stepped forward, her posture straight and her expression unyielding. She was a warrior, through and through, and even now, in the face of judgment, she carried herself with the dignity of a leader. Her voice, when she spoke, was steady but laced with an undercurrent of emotion.

"Paul," she began, her eyes locking with his, "you are not like the others. You never have been. And that is because you are not just an orc. You are something more—something this tribe has never seen before."

Paul's heart pounded in his chest, but he remained silent, his gaze unwavering. He had always known he was different. His golden eyes, his rapid growth, his skin color, and his unnatural strength—they were all signs that he didn't belong. But he had never dared to ask why. Until now.

Mira took a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. 

"Your father," she said, the words heavy with meaning, "was not of this tribe.

He was a barbarian, a warrior of a distant clan, who came to these mountains many years ago. He was strong, fierce, and honorable—a man who fought with a ferocity that rivaled even the greatest orc warriors. And he was my equal in every way."

The elders murmured among themselves, their voices low and disapproving.Vulcan's expression darkened, but he said nothing, allowing Mira to continue.

"I met him during a raid of a faraway human kingdom," she said, her voice softening as she recalled the memory. "Our tribes clashed, and we fought—not as enemies, but as warriors testing each other's strength. In the end, neither of us could defeat the other. And from that battle, something else was born. Respect. Understanding. Love."

Paul's breath caught in his throat. He had never heard his mother speak of love before. To the orcs, love was a foreign concept, something weak and human. 

But the way Mira spoke of his father—there was no mistaking the emotion in her voice.

"Your father and I were together for a time," Mira continued, her voice growing stronger. "But our union was not accepted by either of our tribes. The orcs saw him as an outsider, a threat to our way of life. And his people… they saw me as a monster, a savage. In the end, he was forced out of his clan for lying with an Orc . But before he did, he left me with a gift. You."

Paul's mind raced, trying to process the enormity of what he was hearing. He had always known he was different, but this—this was something else entirely. 

He was not just an orc. He was a hybrid, a fusion of two worlds, two bloodlines. And that made him an outcast in both.

The chieftain finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that filled the longhouse. 

"Mira's union with the barbarian was forbidden," he said, his gaze piercing. "And the child born of that union—you, Paul—are a living reminder of that transgression. The tribe has tolerated your existence out of respect for your mother's strength and loyalty. But now, the time has come to decide your fate."

Paul's jaw tightened, but he remained silent, waiting for the chieftain to continue.

"You have two choices," Bulcan said, his tone final. "You may stay in the tribe and prove yourself as a warrior. If you can earn the respect of our people, you may yet find a place among us. Or… you may leave. Go into the wilderness and find a place for yourself far from here. The choice is yours."

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Paul.

 He could feel the weight of their expectations, their judgment, their fear. 

But he also felt something else—a spark of determination, a fire that had been burning within him since the day he was born.

He turned to Mira, his golden eyes searching hers. 

"Did you ever try to find him?" he asked, his voice quiet but steady. "My father?"

Mira's expression softened, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. 

"No," she admitted. "I could not leave the tribe. My place was here, with my people. But I always hoped that one day, you would have the chance to find him. To know the other half of who you are."

Paul nodded, his decision already made. 

He turned to the chieftain and the elders, his voice strong and clear. 

"I will leave the tribe," he said. "I will go into the wilderness and find a place for myself."

The elders murmured among themselves, some nodding in approval, others shaking their heads in disbelief. 

The chieftain studied Paul for a long moment before finally speaking.

"So be it," he said. "You have until dawn to gather your belongings. After that, you are no longer welcome here."

Paul bowed his head in acknowledgment, then turned and walked out of the longhouse.

Mira following close behind. 

As they stepped into the cool night air, Paul felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time in his life, he knew who he was—and where he needed to go.

"Paul," Mira said, her voice low as they walked back to their hut. "I know you said you're leaving to find a place for yourself. But I also know you. You're not just going into the wilderness. You're going to find your father, aren't you?"

Paul hesitated, then nodded. 

"Yes," he admitted. "I need to know where I come from. Both sides of me."

Mira placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm. 

"Then go," she said. "Find him. But remember, no matter where you go or who you become, you will always be my son. And you will always have a home here, even if the tribe does not accept you."

Paul's throat tightened, but he nodded, his golden eyes gleaming with determination. 

"Yes, Mother," he said. "Thank You, For everything."

As dawn approached, Paul gathered his few belongings—his greatsword, a waterskin, and a small pouch of dried meat, among other things—and set out into the wilderness. 

Vulcan and some of the tribe elders watched from a distance, their expressions unreadable.

But Paul didn't look back. His path was clear now, and he would follow it no matter where it led.

He would find his father. He would uncover the truth of his origins.

 And he would prove, once and for all, that he was more than just an outcast.

He was Paul , son of Mira and the barbarian warrior. And his story was only just beginning.