Similar to internal alchemy and an outgrowth of ritual mathematics, musicians are a culturally modern form of practitioner, having only come about recently in historical terms. Rather than predicting the motions of memetic flow through a mana complex, musicians seek to actively manipulate it by manipulating the emotional state of an observer, embedding the desired potentiality for an effect in both sound waves and in memetic cultural triggers. This type of magic is very good at convincing observers and in subtly altering their emotional state; it, along with biomancy, represent extremely rudimentary mental effects. Most other forms of magic that get a subject to behave in a certain way only deal with the subject's perceptions, and the reaction of the victim is natural to what they believe is happening. Music has the potential to change the subject's emotional or moral stance on a given topic over time. It was “invented” by golems, and remains mostly in their hands and in the hands of some artists, as the effects of the piece fade over time, as per the usual mana economy that causes cultural zeitgeists to move on. Some practitioners have applied the procedure to visual art, as well.
During the Second Age, as the ruins of the First Age faded from memory, suffering was shown to be a great source of magic, as it cemented mana into specific forms. In modern times, this effect is utilized by mutilators who cut into their bodies and remove eyes or limbs in exchange for power. In those days, the only cautionary tales in the bodies of knowledge of the world did not show the consequences of inflicting suffering upon others, and so black magicians of incredible power rose upon the backs of their fellows. In time, they could gather no power save that by causing the suffering of others, becoming parasites of suffering and anguish, and when time came for them to die, Death herself was unable to contain them in her country. She created a new domain and locked them away from each other and the world, going to the destroyer entities the Mother of All Things created and giving them power over those domains, telling them to take the mana of these prisoners and give it to small groups of humans, granting them a diving mandate to hold onto that mana, such that the prisoners do not have it to escape. At the same time, she took from the domain of the Outsiders the mana they once used to empower their own servants and created her own followers, composed of those she hand-picked. While a spirit cannot have a direct influence outside of its own domains and often can't even think outside of those boundaries, such servants can, as long as they're not being directly controlled by such a spirit.
Similar to Death, the entity that calls itself Fate is a culturally conceptual entity that has no direct control over its dominion; rather, Fate interprets and witnesses time as it unfolds. When it makes pronouncements, it makes them through other spirits or it does not make them at all, given that any being capable of understanding it is also capable of changing it. This is a freedom all members of a race possess. Because of this, Fate does not often speak of its eventualities, since that makes for a cleaner transition between times along a songline. It is a recorder of the Everywhen, and mucking about with it causes the edges to fray and pieces of time to drift off into other realms or shatter apart. Not only that, but the world is just waiting for one final disaster to cause the end of an Age. Seeing what Death had done, however, Fate took to a similar tactic. It offered knowledge of future events in exchange for the ability to speak of those events to others. This form of magic binds the practitioner to Fate in a direct way, requiring them to consume possibilities so that the Everywhen does not become too cluttered. It is related to the Lady Spider, to books, libraries, and possibilities. Practitioners can channel fictional characters and gain power over books and paper, in addition to abilities that let them read the lines of fate not yet come to pass and gobble up those futures that should not be, helping slow the turning of the ages.
Some time during the First Age, the world was invaded by Outsider beings that empowered servants using pieces of themselves, similar to the way an orahjoo spirit shares its blood with a family line. Unlike the mutual exchange, however, the Outsider entity used its servant to create parasitic cultural constructs in the form of religions that funneled meaning into the Outsider. This power they gathered allowed them to make great changes in the world; unlike spirits, they could and often did think outside of their domains, and played petty power games with the people. They denied the spirits of the land and the concepts of naturally grown cultures, stating that their views of good and evil were absolute objectivity. When their world fell in the rebellion and many of them were killed, trapped in their domains, their corpses rotted, the power they used growing stagnant and devoid of meaning. The prayers that empowered their servants still existed, however, and any power left lying around will be used by those mad enough to try. This form of magic is, more than any other, truly alien, and feels wrong even to its practitioners. As well, it drives the user mad, makes them ill, and is capable of breaking the “rules,” simply because its mana has lost all meaning other than its own until it's assigned meaning by a practitioner, and that meaning is always soiled by its associations. Worse, still, is that the thoughts of those dead Outsiders still linger, and plans they laid creep to fruition through practitioners.
Aside from being extremely specific, Genesis Syndrome itself is an alien ecology that infests and transforms those with whom in comes into contact. Unlike hive, which was a cultural virus, the Genesis culture cannot spread except through direct contact with the culture itself, and cannot infect cultural beings without their knowledge. It was not always this way. When Genesis first arrived on the planet, it was capable of spreading on its own, and was set to devour the entire ecology and replace it with its own, behaving like a virus on a planetary scale, shooting pieces of itself back into space to infest other worlds after consuming this one. However, the Genesis entities have since become naturalized, and now produce two particular manifestations. The first is the race, which has settled the areas near Terenjik and Macamo. The second is Genesis Syndrome, a non-cultural variant of the infection that infests gut flora. Sufferers take on aspects of non-naturalized Genesis and can feed on it. They manifest powers similar to Genesis itself, infection, corruption, and other such mutations. It is, in many ways, an alien magic.
During the Second and Third Age, mysterious life forms known as “hive” appeared in a structure that hovered about what is now the Elohino continent. No one knows where they came from, only their effects. They fed on emotion-based mana and devoured memes directly, spreading like cancer on a culture itself; holy days, stories, cultural behaviors, botany, agriculture, art, everything became suffused with hive's own culture. Unlike the Genesis organism, which requires its hosts to actively seek out its culture and transforms them in body to match, hive only destroyed cultural information and left its hosts essentially human and themselves, but lacking in their original culture; old behaviors and foods became abhorrent as the infection spread. Hive bursters were storykeepers who underwent biomantic surgery to enhance a latent immunity they possessed to hive, which caused hive's cultural information to reify on their bodies as armor, weapons, and tools they used to acquire more of hive's memetic data. Eventually they became tauric monsters, spawning entities from their bodies and bristling with energy. They attacked hive memes directly, dragging them into metaphorical reality and consuming them utterly.
Today, the only remnants of hive bursters still around take the form of “dragon scales,” small arthropod-like creatures that inhabit swamps. They carry the shards of the original bursters inside them, though nothing of what they once were truly remains.
The Scroll of the Narhoojai was all things. It was the knowledge of the Great Kings, and represented all their knowledge in physical form. Blessed in a contract by Sun, the scroll held the power to instill all who read it with the power of the Kings, such that their people would remember it as their own history. The Scrolls were never meant to be used among humans or even Races, who corrupt and change magic as a matter of course in their movements among the world. Once read by humans, it caused the fusion of King and humanity bloodlines to produce something new, something wholly unprecedented, transforming practitioners into Children of the Sun, serpentine, reptilian, avian, and partially human beings with the lineage of Kings. As they read the scroll, they drifted apart from either and became a newly created spirit, but for those who only skimmed the surface of the texts, they acquired gifts from their ongoing bargain with the Sun. Eventually, through schisms and modifications of the scroll, new gifts emerged, and a final, driving conflict that resulted in its total assembly and reading. With the scroll read, all annunaki became as one and disappeared from the world.
The transference of the annunaki into a state of higher being left them with the cultural knowledge of the Kings and their place in existence; they dwelled at the beginning of the creation by Mother of All Things, and they knew all her hopes and dreams. They despaired as she had, and hoped for the future. They took pieces of themselves, now made whole from their actions, and pressed them into the souls entering into the universe for the first time, on their way to life among the people. These souls are new, but can recall the power, shape, and empires of the Dragon Kings, and even take their forms to some degree. They can walk among dreams and shape them as they will. Rumors persist of an Outsider cult that seeks answers from them, a cult of gray spiders in black suits with no names.