The Storm

Sighing, he got up from his desk chair, abandoning what he’d been doing on the computer. It seemed this would have to be dealt with. On his way out the door he smoothly scooped up his long jacket, putting it on as he shut the door behind him. Striding swiftly, purposefully, he set off towards the west, the direction from which the storm would soon be arriving. He crossed the nighttime suburban blocks steadily, without a sense of urgency, while the frenzied, inconsistent wind attempted to stall his approach.

Abruptly he stopped, in the middle of an open, grassy area in a park near his apartment. Had an observer been present, that observer would not have been able to spot anything nearby that would have caused him to stop; there was nothing particularly interesting about this specific place. But the young wizard’s eyes were not focused on anything nearby; he was staring off into the distance towards the dark clouds which were approaching at a deceptively rapid pace. In those eyes were the wisdom and strength of the Eternal. Sometimes they showed a human uncertainty, but at this time one would have had difficulty imagining that even the merest trace of doubt had ever been there.

His eyes closed. He took a slow, deep breath and on the exhale he let his body relax and his head droop down. A faint, incandescent mist began to appear around his feet, and then as he drew another breath it grew brighter, began to drift slowly in a circle around him. The storm sirens began to slowly work up to their piercing wail, but he showed no sign he was even hearing them. A soft glow bloomed from the center of his body.

Then he opened his eyes again, and the intensity there was staggering. These are my people, and you will not harm them. He willed the storm to avoid cities and towns as the wind and the scream of the sirens coalesced into a furious cacophany. He had changed the weather before, so he was undaunted, but the storm was still coming.

He projected himself, his essence, miles west into the heart of the storm… and what he saw there was a mirror.

The storm was driven by energy, the universal energy that was the basis of all things, the same energy he himself called upon, that even he was composed of. Abruptly he began to draw the energy of the storm to himself, and the glow at the center of his body grew twice as bright. His entire body tingled with the influx of energy, and after a few moments, it was done.

Fifteen minutes later he was back at his desk as the storm reached his apartment. Rain pelted the windows halfheartedly for a few minutes, and then receded.

One thought on “The Storm”

Leave a Reply