I am not Farethi. I likely may never be.

However, I have seen evidence of the problems that the existence of the
Storm poses, particularly with the dissolution of the Tetrahedron.
Furthermore, since nobody can seem to come to grips with what the Storm
might actually be, I would like to offer an unbiased opinion, one free
of the trappings of the old doctrine:

The Storm is not the annihilation of all things not airborne, nor the
dissolution of all Creation. Such things are simultaneously too
grandiose to explain in cryptic terms and too simple to be worth
contemplating. Any fool could point to prophecy and declare it to be the
end of all things.

No, the Storm is more concrete, more real.

But to fully explain it, I believe it best to first touch upon the Sky.

In the words of the Azatlan woman, the Sky provides. It offers limitless
potential, the freedom of being untethered to the whims and cares of
Sapience. The Sky is, in the most simple of terms, our own potential
without the limits imposed by Sapience and ourselves. It is by our own
merit, our individual will and passion that we may seek and even dwell
amongst the Sky, even for the briefest of times.

Those would seek to reach the Sky must do so on their own merit. Being
borne aloft upon the effort of others will only drag all parties
involved back down to the earth. Those worthy will soar, those not will
be cast into the dust, to be prey for the rest.

However, the Sky is not Evil: The Sky does not seek to enslave nor prey
upon the weak for the sake of doing so. The birds and beasts of the Sky
are predators for survival. They do so not out of malice, but to reap
the bounty offered by the Sky, and in doing so, demonstrate but a small
fraction of the Sky's potential--and the wrath of the Storm.

The Storm represents the pain, the agony of normal life. The suffering
embraced by every living thing that cannot bear itself towards the Sky,
to be carried above all of these mortal anguishes by their own power and
strength. The winds howl unendingly in their ears, the torrents of rain
chill them to the bone and slow their progress in ever rising mud, and
the seemingly random strikes of lightning effortlessly cut down all that
they shall raise. They shall know nothing but the Storm, in all of its
Wrath and Fury, until they rise above it or finally succumb.

There is no Freedom within the Storm, nor is there Oppression within the
Sky: Those who ascend may attempt to uplift the worthy, by guiding and
teaching them. If they succeed, all the better. If not, they shall cast
them back down into the eye of the Storm. No one shall be forbidden the
glory of the Sky except through their own frailities and weaknesses. No
one shall escape the Storm except by their own merit and passion.

Freedom and Oppression are merely outdated expressions of the same
principle: None may know true fulfillment except through the Sky.
Attempting to uplift the unworthy, those who would waste their freedom
on the petty and petulant affairs of the dirt, is folly. Those who would
enslave others to deny them their own chances to ascend are equally
loathsome.

Let all attempt to seek their own greatness: Both the Sky and Storm know
Their own.