Sylvan Stories: Storm


I still remember the very first time I was shown the true potential of magic. It was long ago, when I was a young lad at the academy. Our professor – Professor Comberdale I believe it was – began lecturing us on where our true magic’s might comes from, and then in a flurry of energy, he cast a spell that bewildered and frightened me to the core. The pure magical essence of it completely drew me in, and I knew from that moment on: I would be a storm mage. Johana, The man who controlled thunder.

“Now students,” The professor paused to clear his raspy voice. “True magical essence comes from the smallest of places but the most whimsical of ideas. You have to feel it within yourself to cast powerful spells – and to stop them. The desire to do so must completely encompass your being. You must become the magic you cast. I admit I’ve been disappointed in your overall performance as a class so far…” Suddenly the professor paused for a moment and he paced across the room. With his hands firmly behind his back, he stared at one of the newer students. “You there.” The student looked up in bewilderment. A hint of fear in his eye. “Yes you. What kind of mage do you think you are?”

“I’m a blue red mage sir.” Replied the student in a quivering voice.

“Ah I see, not so confident, well let’s put your magic to the test then. Come here, you are going to try casting a counter spell.”

The student reluctantly exchanged eye contact with the other students around him. Suddenly the professor grew impatient and the boy shivered in apprehension. Motioning to the student again he commanded, “Well come on now, get on up here!”

Quickly the student moved over to the center of the large hexagonal classroom. Light filtered in from the small circular window in the ceiling, and other students began shuffling to the edges of the room.

“Now you say you are a blue red mage… Well I am going to show you the most powerful of blue red magics, do you think you have the will to withstand such an assault?” The professor discreetly smiled. “Here, we’ll start you off easy. Just stop this simple lightning bolt. A simple single bolt, shouldn’t be to bad right?”

In a flurry of complex hand movements, the teacher threw an array of bolts at his student. They illuminated the room in deep reds and blues, and crackled through the halls of the campus. Other students near the display winced in fear as the bolts flew at speeds unimaginable towards their target.

Putting his hands together in a protective ward, the young mage focused with all his might to stop the powerful magic. He felt static energy crawl around his skin and his hair began to stand on end. But the bolts never hit him, in fact they barely even grazed his ward. Before he knew it, they were flying right back at his professor.

“Professor Comberdale! Look out!” he cried, as he realized what he had accidentally done. But in one fell swoop of his hand, the professor dismissed the bolts charging at him. He began reveling in laughter.

“Good, good my boy! That’s the spirit! Now, lets see if you can handle some real magic.”

Astonished, the student composed his footing again. He couldn’t believe what he had just done, and now he was going to be hit again. He didn’t want to be hit again, the thought of even more bolts stampeding in his direction made his hair stand on end. But something about this martial exercise excited his senses, so with an exasperated gasp he readied himself for another onslaught.

The professor slowly drug his hands together, they began to glow like lava, and hot cinders flew off in geysers from the professor’s red tunic. His eyes suddenly turned a deep glowing red, and a faint rumble overtook the room. A swirl of blue mist sizzled around and enveloped the teacher. Then, in one single motion he let out all of his magical might. It blasted at the student in a myriad of colors, and pushed him back. The boy could feel intense heat melting away his cloths, his hands burned, his hair stood on end, but his protective ward stood strong. Not knowing how much longer he could withstand, the student cried out, tightened his focus, and his ward began growing even stronger. As the continued onslaught moved forth, the boys ward began to overtake the room. In a battle of mind, and might, the boy’s magic continued to encompass the entire room.

And then, suddenly, without hesitation, the student made a small hand motion. The professor’s attack was completely dispelled in one fell swoop.

Astonished all of the other students, now huddling on the far edges of the room, cried out in glee. They couldn’t believe he had survived such a powerful attack. But the boy did not laugh, he did not smile, he just stood in the center of the room surrounded by charred tiles and melted fabric. Perspiration ran down his chin, as he blankly stared in awe.

The professor walked over to the boy, patting his student on the back he chuckled, “Now that’s the spirit! See class that’s what I was talking about before – You have to find it within yourself to cast your magic, it comes from your very being, your will. I dub this spell his force of will. Yes, that seems like a good name for it. Strongest counter spell I’ve ever seen…” The professor paused for a second, a twinkle in his eye betrayed his secrecy. “Now class, let’s get a move along to the training grounds. I wanna see all of you make progress like this.”

The class slowly began moving out of the room, but all the boy could bring himself to do was stand bleakly.

“Well come on! Lets get a move along!” Yelled the professor.

* * *

The student, who’s name was Johana, had never harnessed such magical power before. He didn’t know it was even within him to utilize such a spell, and he had never experienced such a powerful onslaught of pure will power and magical might. As the months went on, Johana was inspired, something about that day had sparked a deep aptitude for magic within him, he knew he had to find his own magic.  Johana, with newly found inspiration, trained for months, years even, refining his skills. He delved deep into the world of passion and insight, but could never find the true powers he yearned so dearly for. Eventually he fell into the most sinister corners of the world, delving in dark and fiendish secrets that had been lost to time. He researched to the point of ad nauseum, almost driving himself to the brinks of insanity, But he continued to search within himself, within the world, for the purest and strongest of magical essence he could find.

In the end, he never truly found the power he sought. He never saw the places he had seen the day he had been attacked in class. But he did find something, and he spread his knowledge to all those who could withstand its power. Traveling to far off lands, he created a new discipline of magic, and dubbed it “Storm” in honor of the barrage of lightning that had awoken his spark so long before.

As time went on Johana grew away from the world of passion, he grew selfish and tired, and as he did, his storm magic grew ever more potent, and so did the legend that his name carried with it. Eventually Johana disappeared into solitude, where he resides to this day, but no one shall ever forget the legendary story of the man who controlled thunder.

The strategy of storm is one of insurmountable power, a mage who follows the storm discipline will train for years honing their mental and physical skills alike. Utilizing massive blasts of pure magical power, the strategy can be incredibly mentally and physically taxing on a user. But is capable of incredible feats. However once a user has unleashed all their might it becomes increasingly difficult to recover. Due to this, a storm mage must remain ever vigilant of any opposition they may face, and must remain completely calm, dealing highly calculated and planned moves. The strategy of storm is one of pure magical energy, that delves its users deep within their selves to find the power they need to complete the tasks at hand.

Thanks for reading! Sylvan Stories is a weekly series, be sure to check back in a week for the next addition. If you have any questions, comments of concerns feel free to leave them in the section below.

And as always, happy gaming!



Sylvan Studies Team
- A swords a day keeps the goyfs away.

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