At times, it seems as if only a generous supply of magic could support life here. Magic would explain many things, and would certainly make survival easier. Magic comes at a cost, it too is dependent on a steady flow of its source. And mana is not particularly common here, any more than it is anywhere else.
Magic, then, is not the sole explanation.
Where it is found, the usual tooth and nail competitions are not. Life survives without the usual impulses to do battle and war over limited food supplies.
With a mana supply, life is peaceful.
For those able to use it, of course.
Without mana, or the means to use it, life remains a brutal competition.
Either way, life is found in some decidedly weird places.
And this place is more than a little weird. The caverns all over the planet are deep and warm enough to prevent the water from freezing, while remaining cool enough to retain enough dissolved oxygen to keep things interesting. Mana likely supplies the glowworms that illuminate the caverns. We don’t know for sure. But it is the only reasonable explanation for their abundance in areas without obvious sources of food.
We can only infer its existence from evidence like the abundance of the glow, since most of us are unable to sense it directly and it has, so far, eluded all attempts to sense with instruments.
The longer I live in this strange place, however, the more I begin to feel a second sort of warm currents. Mana is having its effect, and change is inevitable. The last member of our party to discover the ability went mad. So I am also disobeying a sensible standing order by not reporting my new abilities.
But I am sure I am not going mad.
I won’t go mad.
The madness will not consume me.
Nor will the nearly invisible beasts of the greatest depths that I begin to sense moving around well outside of our most remote explorations.
I am not mad, so I won’t go exploring.
Today, at least.
Today, I remain with the group, and wonder what the deeps may hold.
Besides an abundant source of mana, that is.