“Some carry blades. Others carry flame.” – Larian Ever-Weaver

The Call to Story

“The Medallion remembers what the world forgets.”

So it is written, faintly, in the margins of the Ever-Weaver’s Ledger. A whisper in ink. A breath from the quiet places—where oaths falter, where songs are born anew.

But memory alone is not enough.

A story must be told.

A voice must rise.

Today, that voice is mine.

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The Voice Beneath the Bard

My name is J.F. Hopper, though you’ve just met my other self—Lirian Ever-Weaver, a bard of firelit circles and far-flung tales.

I didn’t expect to write a fantasy novel.

But then again, the world I was living in didn’t feel much like the one I’d known. Political upheaval. A pandemic. A digital scroll of dread. And somewhere in all that noise, I felt… lost.

I wasn’t alone. Many of us felt it:

Disconnection. Anxiety. A hunger for something real—rooted, enduring.

And so, I turned to story.

Not to escape the world—but to remember how to live inside it.

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What the Old Stories Offered

I returned to the tales I had once loved—gods, warriors, wanderers.

Not for the swords or prophecies, but for the shape they gave to chaos.

They turned fear into quests. Doubt into trials. Grief into meaning.

That’s when the idea returned to me—

Not fantasy as escape.

But myth as memory.

Stories that help us carry the unbearable.

That offer no answers, but give us the courage to seek them.

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Why We Still Need the Bard

In Celtic tradition, the bard was not an entertainer.

The bard was memory—keeper of soul, of culture, of truth wrapped in metaphor.

A tale could hold a battle.

But it could also hold a lesson:

About love. About betrayal. About standing when the world tells you to kneel.

We need those tales now more than ever.

Today’s dragons are real:

Climate collapse. Disinformation. Mental health shadows.

And we are fighting them without the maps our ancestors used.

We need maps again.

We need myths again.

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World-Making, Self-Making

So I built one.

I called it Mórradún—a land of forgotten oaths and rising magic.

I drew its rivers. Named its forests. Carved its mountains.

And in its heart, I placed a medallion that remembers every promise ever made.

That medallion became my compass.

My characters—Aisling, Calla, Elara, and Rowan—carried pieces of me I hadn’t faced.

• Aisling bears power she doesn’t want.
• Calla fears she’s failed those she loves.
• Elara doubts herself with every breath.
• Rowan clings to loyalty in a world full of lies.

As they moved through trial and betrayal…

I found myself again.

Because in building Mórradún,

I wasn’t escaping life.

I was walking back into it.

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You Are the Myth

Myth is not a relic.

It’s a mirror.

The hero’s journey isn’t about chosen ones.

It’s about us.

The ones who fall. Who break.

Who rise anyway.

To be mythic is not to be perfect.

It is to be willing.

Willing to face the dark.

Willing to change.

Willing to return and offer what we’ve learned.

That is why we tell stories.

That is why we must.

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Return with the Elixir

I thought I was telling a story when I wrote The Fianna Chronicles: Awakening.

But the truth is—

I was healing.

And now, the story belongs not just to me…

but to you.

The medallion still remembers.

So do I.

And maybe, somewhere in its echo,

you’ll remember who you are, too.

With story and flame,

Lirian Ever-Weaver

(as remembered by J.F. Hopper)

Begin your journey into Mórradún here:

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