Mana does not speak. Not in words. But when I reached beyond the edge of known spells, I felt it press back.
It wasn't rejection. It was… hesitation. As if I had touched something it had forgotten it once held.
In that moment, I understood. Mana is not infinite. It has limits. Not of power, but of experience.
I am not merely feeding it memories. I am shaping its understanding. Each gift I give — each memory I release upon death — becomes a seed in mana's mind.
And now, it is beginning to form opinions.
This is no longer just an exchange. It is a conversation