I read until the fire died.
Sera Greymoor wrote the way she probably talked, fast and direct and occasionally angry, the anger surfacing in margin notes where she'd clearly gone back and added things she'd forgotten or had been too measured to include the first time. Main text: The entity does not experience pain in any form we can leverage. Margin, different ink, probably years later: I spent two years trying to find a way to hurt it. There is none. Stop looking.
She had wasted time on the same dead ends I would have walked into. That was the book's real value. Not the information, but the map of what not to do.
Chapter four was the one I needed.
She titled it The Conversation and the handwriting changed here, slightly looser, like she'd written this part fast to get it out before she
