And for those just tuning in, we regret to inform you that Tempest Keule has passed away during her annual retreat to Nu'ur Haveha. Her ailing health in recent months has ...
The news of the Tempest’s passing earlier that morning was all anyone seemed to be talking about to the point that the same few words barely registered in Noi’s mind anymore.
A young cat, barely fourteen years of age; Noi meandered around the local outdoor mall for reasons that had largely escaped him for the moment as he noticed how the normally cheerful music in the plaza had been replaced by the dull, droning voice of the news reporter in front of him.
He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the front of the electronics store and its massive wall of televisions. Walking calmly down the plaza, he stuffed his paws into his pockets which then went right through the torn cloth that lined them. He pat himself all over in a panic to find his money clip safely tucked into his shirt pocket. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, wondering how he managed to forget everything for just a moment. Walking towards the tailor’s shop, weaving back and forth between the crowd of shoppers, he pondered on the new pieces of information that echoed all around him.
... monks who accompanied her felt an immense outflow of energy, while passers-by described it as a blast of pressurized air violently escaping the building ...
Ridiculous… isn’t it? Well, not that the Tempest died - the honest truth is that it was bound to happen any day now. Rather, all this ‘Tempest’ stuff. The Rida’eki, the servants of the elements. This… this whole ‘system’ that all the world’s religions somehow buy into. That a handful of people are somehow more special than the rest, ‘chosen’ for some mysterious purpose, and they get to be worshipped as gods? Sometimes as gods, anyway; others see them as messengers, prophets, whatever. Seriously, though? The proof, they say, is in their magic, talents, superpowers, these sorts of miracles they can supposedly do, which all flies in the face of physics and logic. And people all over the world believe in it, each culture interpreting these basic ‘facts’ in their own way. There’s got to be something more to it.Lost in thought as he paces down to the far end of the plaza, he hears the people around them and their own thoughts on the matter. Some are just as skeptical as he is, while others show their grief, reverence… The wind picked up and brushed against his ears and face, ruffling his hair. Letting out a quiet groan, he stretched out an arm and rubbed his neck and back. Some inexplicable feeling had been bothering him since waking up that morning. Then it suddenly got worse.
The very space around him suddenly felt like it was thickening, pressing down on him, constricting him tightly. He shut his eyes and felt lightheaded as a new sense overwhelmed him. In a panic, he threw his arms to his sides and yelped in fear. Suddenly he felt light, almost as if his body didn’t exist at all. Opening his eyes, he saw himself spinning gently, his feet slightly above the ground. The gust that came just now - somehow, he realized that it came for him, or maybe because of him. It spun steadily as it held him up - no, as he held himself up on it. He whimpered, quickly pulled his arms inward, causing him to fall to the ground with a light thud as the winds immediately ceased.
By no means was this subtle. As the vortex around him dissippated, he could hear murmurs all around. Some people approached; others stepped away. Each of their faces showed a different reaction: shock, awe, confusion, disbelief. As they looked on at the frightened child and whispered among themselves, they all arrived at the same conclusion:
They had witnessed the awakening of the new Tempest.
An origin story and worldbuilding exercise. I should try to do these more often… The drawing itself was an elaboration of this other sketch.