By Eitros Tixe, Friend of the Tari, Former Templar of Abalach-Re

My first interaction with Soso Y’Likolo began with a rush of wind.

I was sitting at the edge of the caves, watching the shimmering waves of heat dance across the barren landscape when suddenly the wind rose, hissing through the tunnels and tugging at the edges of my tattered robes. Kino paused in his chatter, his ears perking up at the sound.

“Someone comes,” he said, his voice low and wary.

A tari was indeed approaching, their form blurred by the swirling gusts. He moved erratically in an almost dancing-like way, as though he were carried forward by the wind itself. His fur was patched and uneven, adorned with feathers of every shape and color, and bound with twine and beads. A strange contraption dangled from a staff of twisted wood in his clawed hand. His whiskers twitched erratically as he surveyed me, his eyes glittering with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Kino hissed softly under his breath. “Soso Y’Likolo,” he whispered. “The Wind-Touched. A shaman.”

The tari nearby quickly retreated into the shadows of the caves, their murmurs a mix of unease and curiosity. I remained where I was, unsure of what to expect.

The strange tari strode forward with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Stopping a mere foot from me, he thrust his staff into the ground and peered at me intently as he narrowed his eyes.

He said a single word, his voice high-pitched and almost melodic. “Unexpected.”

Kino stepped nervously forward. “Soso, this is Eitros—”

My student was cut off. “Do not tell me, youngling! I can feel it, I can smell it!” He sniffed dramatically, his nostrils flaring. “Yes, yes… the wind spoke of a storm.”

I blinked, unsure of how to respond. “I… don’t understand.”

Kino shifted awkwardly, darting his gaze between me and Soso. “Eitros is under our protection. He has proven himself valuable to the Shadowed Claw. Rabekela thought it best not to… distract you with this before the council meeting.”

“Distract me? From the winds themselves? What nonsense is this!” Soso turned back to me, and as he did his expression suddenly shifted from indignation to acceptance. “Ah,” he said, nodding slowly, “now it all makes sense. The storm, the whispers, the unanswered riddles. Of course, it would be someone like you.”

Before I could respond, Soso’s claws darted into the pouch at his side, pulling out a handful of fine, shimmering sand. With a flourish, he tossed it into the air. The grains caught the wind, swirling in intricate patterns before falling to the ground.

He watched the sand intently, his eyes darting as though reading a message only he could see. Then, abruptly, he straightened and pointed a claw at me.

“You will change us,” he declared, heavy and cryptic. “The wind has shown it. A storm does not come without consequence.”

“Me? I don’t know what you mean.” I said carefully, unsure whether to feel flattered or wary.

“Yes, you.” he said, poking his staff in my direction. “The fur-less storm that walks with ink. The one who does not belong but must remain. The wind knew before I did, naturally.”

Soso’s grin widened, revealing sharp teeth. “You will.” he said simply. Then, turning to Kino, he added, “The pack leaders will want to hear of this.”

Kino’s tail twitched, but he said nothing. Soso spun on his heel, his feathers fluttering, and strode back into the desert without another word.

“What does he mean by ‘change’?” I asked, still unsettled by the encounter.

Kino let out a long sigh, shaking his head. “He’s always like that.” he muttered. But he was as unsettled as I was.