[Story/Art] Character of the Week – Tsi Ku
March 8, 2018 Leave a comment
[[ Tsi Ku is a pandaren shaman who hasn’t done a whole lot storywise, though she is friends with Aranae the elf monk. This is a story from when she was younger! ]]
Tsi Ku gasped in surprise as the spark of electricity leapt from her fingertips. The air around her crackled with it, setting her fur on edge.
“Very good,” said Tao Yin, stroking his grey whiskers. Tsi Ku was pleased; she knew he did that when she’d performed her lesson well. The old pandaren shuffled over to a large rock and sat down on it, leaning on his cane. “Can you tell me, what is lightning?”
Tsi Ku crinkled her nose in thought. “Well, it’s — I mean, if there’s a storm, sometimes there’s lightning.” She gestured skyward, toward the dark clouds.
“Hm,” said Tao Yin. “That is when, not what.”
“It’s–” Tsi Ku paused, biting her lip. “Electricity. That comes suddenly.”
“And?”
She wasn’t certain what she was supposed to say. The other elements were much simpler; they simply existed and you could see and feel them at all times. She could dip a toe into the cool water and watch the ripples, feel the stones beneath her paws, the warmth of a cooking fire as it danced and leapt over the coals. Lightning, though, was a rarity. It was an event, a sign from the heavens, a dramatic flash that shook the ground around it. It could be destructive, but so too could all of the elements. A flood, an earthquake, a wildfire, these could destroy and consume just as readily as lightning could.
Tsi Ku shrugged. Tao Yin was always wanting answers like that, something that sounded really deep and thoughtful instead of the first thing that came to mind. Tsi Ku preferred to keep things practical. “And it can be dangerous, but also beautiful.”
If that was the correct answer, Tsi Ku couldn’t tell. He didn’t scratch his whiskers. Instead, he hoisted himself onto his feet and started down the path to the noodle house. “Keep practicing,” he said, as he made his way down the path.
She didn’t need to be told that. Today she’d actually -seen- the spark, felt it crackle over her fingers and into the tip of her tail. She hadn’t just imagined it, the spark had been real, and she’d called it. That morning, she’d knelt at the shrine of Da Feng, the air spirit. She lit the bowl of dried herbs, letting the fragrant smoke waft up into the swirling currents overhead. She’d prayed for his blessing, and now it seemed it had been granted.
Her brow furrowed with concentration, Tsi Ku tried again to call the lightning from her fingertips. But maybe she’d grown too cocky — no matter how she tried, she couldn’t create a spark. She worried that she’d never see it again, but perhaps she was just tired. And hungry. She was definitely hungry. She gathered her totems, and hurried after Tao Yin toward the noodle house.