The Winds of Magic are the eight currents of raw sorcery that gust across the Old World, and the fuel for every spell cast within it. Magic is not native to the world: it pours in through the ruined polar gates of the Chaos Wastes and streams south like weather, separating as it blows into eight distinct winds, each with its own colour, character, and affinity. Aqshy, the red wind, kindles magic of fire and passion; Ghyran flows wherever things grow; Ghur howls across the wild places; Chamon settles around metal; Shyish pools where death is near; Hysh blazes with light; Ulgu coils through fog and deception; and Azyr crackles high in the heavens.
Mortal minds handle these energies poorly. A human wizard can safely master only a single wind, which is why the Colleges of Magic bind each of their orders to one lore alone. The high elves of Ulthuan, older and steadier, weave several winds together into High Magic, while the reckless and the damned drag them all into the curdled black sorcery called Dhar. And the winds are never constant: they gust and slacken with events in the north, blowing strongest when Morrslieb rides full — nights when spells become mighty, and miscasting becomes deadlier still.