The Virian Chronicler

Most sorcerers in the Fenian Galaxy derive their powers from crystal bonds, whether they be natural or artificial.   A natural crystal bond develops during the conception and gestation process, whereby minute fragments of crystal become fused with the genetic material of the foetus.   Natural crystal bonding is not necessarily hereditary.   It is possible for a crystal-bonded child to be conceived by parents who have no crystal bonds.   Conversely, even if both parents have crystal bonds, it does not guarantee that their offspring will inherit them.   Some sorcerers have stronger bonds than others.   The stronger the bond, the greater the powers of sorcery. Artificial crystal implantation is considered blasphemous by most Virians and Varagans.   It is usually performed on infants and young children, although it can be done on adolescents.   The older the person is at the time of implantation, the greater the risk that the implants will fail.   The process has been refined ov

Although it is considered by certain sectors of society that time does not run in a linear course, for the purpose of putting my histories into their correct context, I now set out an approximate timeline.   While it is the choice of the reader as to the order of reading, some readers might find it preferable not to differentiate between Chronicles, Companions and Prophecies as I have. The Maker Carrying a Torch Probyt’s Progress + The Donovan Destiny Mind Games + Neurotic Mothers’ Battleship + The Window Man The Virian Fellowship The Forbidden Sorceress Chimera Obscura The Sunshine Acolyte Malachi’s Law The Halloriyaan + The Unborn Child The Crystal and the Nethiyaan

I lean back in my chair and look at the view from my window.   My window in my office.   The office which I now occupy as befitting my status.   For so many years, I have merely existed at the whim of others and allowed myself to be used by others.   No more.   A change has been wrought and the balance of power has moved in my favour. I have achieved the infamy which I desired all along.   People may curse me or fear me but they will never forget my name.   I will live on in the tales they tell their offspring at night (why do so many species do this?   Frighten the little ones half to death, THEN expect them to drift happily off into sleep?) and the rumours which spread like forest fires. If you ever see me in your window, you know you are doomed.   Even if you don't see me, and I am there, it still spells your swift demise.   The missions are similar, the reasons are similar, only the chain of command has changed.   I now call the shots.   I have minions waiting to