The Stormcaller's True Calling

Skylar almost laughed when he received the orders from his ace. The owner of a farm wanted him to help with the harvest season. Finally, he would be able to live up to the true purpose of his magic, and make his mentor proud. What Skylar had never told anyone, and likely never will, was that the tome he'd found that fateful day exploring an old cave had contained not only written instructions for the usage of the Stormcaller's art, but a psychic imprint of the last living true Stormcaller, a man named Cayde. Cayde had instructed Skylar in the art of summoning storms, as well as the why. He had said that the Stormcaller's purpose was to bless a village's crops with growth and protect them from invaders and marauders. Now, Skylar would be able to do the same.

The Stormcaller took to the skies from Magnolia Town, flying towards the Hunting Village where he'd been assigned. Once he'd traveled far enough away from the town, he drew on his magic, calling together the wind and the rain to form a large storm. The stormwinds at the head of the stormfront aided him, allowing him to fly more quickly and with greater ease than he could alone. The air bore him aloft, the rain wrapped around him, and he flew alone in the vast sky. This was where he was the happiest. High above the earth, the sound of thunder and roaring wind in his ears. His joyous laughter was lost in the storm's fury.

Hours later, he touched down at the farm he'd been sent to, and with a negligent gesture tethered the storm above with threads of his magic. It would hover there, over the farm, pouring out its life-giving rain onto the fields until it was spent. Cayde had said that the rain brought by a Stormcaller was infused with magic, and thus helped plants grow more quickly than ordinary rain. Skylar supposed that in the coming fortnight, he would find out.

He entered the large, wooden farm house, being sure to remove the water saturating his clothes with a swipe of his hand and a burst of his magic before stepping over the threshold. He introduced himself to the farmer and his wife as Skylar Silverwind, the Stormcaller and the Fairy Tail mage they'd asked for. Both of them thanked him for agreeing to assist him, and invited him to dinner. He graciously accepted.

Over the next week, he stayed in their house, eating their food and enjoying their hospitality. In return, he helped them with the farmwork, planting and tending crops, feeding the livestock. He summoned a storm every night, pouring his magic into the skies. The old farmer, who went by the name of Clyrne, said he'd never seen wheat grow as fast as it did under the magic rain of the Stormcaller. Skylar fell into a pleasant routine, and found himself enjoying the simple life the farmers lead. Even the work, backbreaking as it could be, felt honest and rewarding. This was what he was supposed to do. Or at least, this was what his magic was supposed to do. All the Stormcallers before him had done the same. Their calling was service to farmers and villagers who made their living from the earth.

Towering cumulonimbus clouds became a regular sight on the humble farm. Cayde had told Skylar that a gentle rain, carried by nimbostratus clouds, worked as well, but the heavier the storm, the more magic the rain carried, and the faster the crops would grow. Skylar worked spells over the storms to keep the damaging winds and lightning from hurting the crops.

In the second week, Skylar fulfilled the second part of his dual purpose. A pack of monsters raided the farm, intending to feast on the livestock. Hearing the panicked bleats of the cattle, Skylar took to the sky, hurling down bolts of lightning, whips of water and blades of wind until the beasts fled. Twice more the monsters tried to invade, and twice more Skylar rebuffed them. Clyrne and his wife thanked him profusely for saving their animals, and treated him to a finer meal than they usually prepared.

On the final day of Skylar's stay, he helped with the harvesting, a full month earlier than usual, due to how quickly the crops had grown. With scythes of wind, he reaped the wheat and corn and other crops, gathered them up with tendrils of water, and delivered them to the silos where they would be housed. Clyrne told him that a harvest had never gone more quickly, and thanked Skylar again with a lavish meal.

That night, the panicked sounds of animals again woke the Stormcaller, and he left the farmhouse to find a gang of bandits trying to break into the silos to steal the harvested crops. Unlike the beasts, they refused to be scared away by his magic, and decided to fight back, using rudimentary magic and old, rusted weapons. They fared no better against him than a legion of Pergrandian Knights had. Blades of wind sliced through clothing and sword blades alike, slicing deep. Whips of water batted arrows aside and coiled around bandits, tripping and crushing them. Bolts of lightning punched through the thin armor a few of the bandits were wearing.

Once a number of the bandits had fallen, the rest finally broke and fled. Skylar returned to his bed after seeing them off, satisfied at a job well done. The final morning, he was greeted with a breakfast of eggs and bacon, somewhat of a rarity on the farm. Bread and jam were more common, but Clyrne and his wife wanted to again thank Skylar for saving them. After breakfast, the Stormcaller took to the air and left the farm behind, accompanied by the sound of the old farmer and his wife shouting their thanks to him. He permitted himself a smile, hoping he'd made Kayde, and his father, proud of him. Finally, he'd lived up to his calling as a Stormcaller.