The bag doesn’t seem like anything special. Just your average well-made canvas bag. It has thick and complex stitching holding it together, but nothing to indicate it is holding a pocket dimension inside of it. To be honest, I’m a little nervous to stick my hand in there. What if there is a trap?

Or I cut myself on something sharp inside? But mostly the trap thing. Definitely.

My regeneration is pretty good but I’ve never had to regenerate a limb before so I’m not sure if I can. We had to flee the city before I could collect my new armor from Bonehammer so if I stick my hand in, ice armor is my only option. Unless…

I could just dump the contents out on to the ground. Problem solved! Like that one guy said, the simplest solution is often the correct one.

I feel like I should know who said that. Where did I hear it? Did I read it? Is that a memory that was taken from me? Ugh, I’m really looking forward to getting all my memories back. I think one of the worst parts is not knowing whats been taken. Like, if all my memories of things x, y, and z were gone, it wouldn't be so bad. But its more like I have this constant, nagging ffeling that I'm forgetting something. Or I can't rememeber something I feel like I should know. It's a pain in the ass.

Hell, I wonder if I’ll even be the same person when I get my memories back? Like, how much of my memories define who I really am? Will I change so much that I’ll wish I hadn’t gotten my memories back? I wonder if my additional memories will alter my current relationships, or if everything will stay the same. Without my memories can I even be sure that this is who I am?

I take a deep breathe to steady myself.

Breathe Snowflake. Breathe.

Fuck. When did I start calling myself that? Dad would be pissed. He'd be all, "Bodyrk is a strong name, gifted to you by your mother. How dare you allow a measly god take it away from you?!"

Alright. Focus. Lets not go down that road.

First, I have to survive and grow strong enough to regain my memories. Getting all worked up about something so far away won’t do anything for me. Conversely, what might do something for me is the contents of this bag. There is a chance, no matter how slight, that the answers to all my problems are in here.

Here goes nothing.

I loosen the draw strings and upend the bag on to the floor. With a crash, the contents of the bag clatter to the ground. A light but firm impact rocks the back of my head in response to the noise. I turn to see Nevasca shaking one of her tails at me, reproachfully. She nods her head at Quinn, who is stirring in her sleep, then crucifies me with a meaningful look. The connected dots cause me to wince. Almost woke up my sleeping angel.

I wait with bated breath for a few long moments, but despite her stirring Quinn settled down and did not wake. Crisis avoided, I turn to inventory my spoils of war. A decent pile of miscellaneous objects spilled from the bag when I upended it. I decide to make two piles to start off with. Things I recognize and things I don’t.

After a few minutes of shuffling and rearranging, I have my two piles. The pile of things I don’t know is mostly made up of odd stones and strangely colored liquids in glass bottles. All that stuff gets promptly returned to the bag. When I get the chance, I’ll ask Quinn, or maybe Kandra, to help me identify those. For now, time to inventory the stuff I DO recognize.

Unfortunately, its not all that exciting.

Brown packages filled with food and provisions? Boring. Back into the bag with you. A rolled-up leather tool kit for axe repair? Back into the bag with you. Mana and Monster Cores? These could be useful, but not immediately. I wonder if I could recharge my Monster Core faster if I ate one of these? I’ll keep one out just in case. As for the rest, back into the bag with you.

Oh! A spare axe-head. If I can find a suitable shaft, I can use that repair kit to make a halberd type weapon. Given the sparse foliage out in the mountains, it might be a difficult task. I’ll keep an eye out though. As long as I'm thinking of foraging for weapons... If we stumble across a dead Unicorn, its horn might make a decent back-up weapon. Attaching the axe head to it probably wouldn’t work out, but still, it looked very stabby.

All in all, this bag has contained vast and unending amounts of disappointment. No magical armor or unique weapon. Honestly, its mostly junk. I mean, its practical and shit, but not quite the treasure trove I was expecting.

Ugh, at least there was a book. A thin, little thing bound in worn leather, but a book nonetheless.

With a heavy heart, full of low expectations, I open the book to the first page. A title penned in delicate, looping curls greets me. I stare at it for a second, my eyes adjusting to the author’s unique representations of the alphabet, but a second is all I need. My eyes bulge out of my head and my jaw drops. I may have hit the jackpot.

The title reads ‘The Fundamental Laws of Magic: Volume 1.’ A shiver tickles my spine as the implications come to me. This must be one of the books on magic hidden away by the Guildmaster. Anything worth hiding is worth having.

With hungry eyes, I turn the pages, devouring all the information I can find. The book reads like a memoir, describing the author’s arrival to the Dungeon city and subsequent discoveries. However, things get really interesting when the author regains his memories.

‘As a near immortal Archmage, over the centuries I have had several so called ‘heroes’ come along and hinder my research into the mysteries of magic. One such hero had a particularly irritating success as they sealed away my knowledge on the subject of magic. When I finally broke the seal, I vowed to never be devoid of my knowledge again. I spent years perfecting a spell that requires monthly upkeep. If a monthly renewal were missed, I would immediately be subject to the forceful renewal of my memories, an excruciatingly painful process. The key feature of this spell, which made it so complex, is that it wiped my memory of its existence, rendering it invisible to memory searching spells.

After a month here in this dimension, I had not realized that my memory was altered. Thankfully, my past paranoia provided a painful reminder.

Through the subtle machinations of this so called “System” I had much of my knowledge blurred and misdirected. For example, previously I could remember decimating armies with chains of lighting, but I could not remember how. At the time, I had blamed the different magical system for these failings. This was obviously not the case. However, the facts remain. The magic here is different than the magic I have studied for so long.

I have spoken with several of my compatriots in the Wizard’s Guild about the nature of magic here, and their answers all differ. Despite their differences, there seems to be a common theme. The theme is that magic here is based on personal understanding. I could not believe the untamed cosmic force I love could be so frivolous, even in a different world. With my regained memories, I dedicated my time and efforts to uncovering the secrets of this world’s magical system.’

In complete silence, I stare at the pages of the book in my hands. My eyes are looking, but I see nothing more than blurs. My fingers tremble on the worn leather. Tears well in my eyes. Not tears of sadness or frustration. Just… tears. Tears born from the overwhelming emotions I’m feeling. I relate so much to this.

I try not to let it get to me, but everything is so different here. I’m so alone here. My family is gone. My companions are gone. I don’t even know what memories I don’t have anymore. It weighs on me. Every second of every day it is in the back of my mind. I’m part of a whole. Incomplete.

In my world, I was beloved by magic. Magic was a cruel mistress with a will of her own. Every spell had a fickle and unpredictable nature, but they loved me. Magic embraced me when I was young and never let me go. She engraved the marks of her passion on my skin, glowing runes for all to see.

Here, in this world, I’ve found some measure of solace in the presence of magic. But it's not the magic I’m used to. It isn't my Magic, it's Source. Cold, unfeeling Source. Logical, equivalent exchange Source. I try not to think about it, but this person’s journey is a powerful reminder.

Here I am, evolved into a race that can see emotions, but I can barely recognize my own. It's just… It’s so much. I’m so small here. So small and alone. Nothing has gone right for me and… I want to go home. I don’t care if it’s a fake world with a contrived history. It’s my home. I miss my parents. I miss my siblings. I miss my dogs.

Would they even recognize me now?

The tears stream down my cheeks, but I don’t try to wipe them away. I can’t. I can’t do anything, I’m frozen by the heavy weight of the world, pressing down on me. My tears are staining the pages of the book, but I can’t muster the energy to care. My limbs are too heavy to move.

All I can feel is the dull ache in my heart and the rising tide of emotion. The thought of burning them away once again comes to mind, but I push it away. These are my emotions. Let me drown in them.

A warm, heavy weight settles into my lap. A pair of big eyes, one red and one blue, stare up at me. She lifts her head up to lick the tears from my face. She wraps her tails around me. The feathers feel soft, but their grip is strong. With firm but gentle movements, she pulls me close to her.

An endless stream of images enters my mind. All of our moments together. From the moment we first met, to now. The images fragment, then condense, like a kaleidoscope of memories, to form one message.

"You’re not alone. I'm here."

Love, unconditional and unwavering, swirls around her. In my heart, I feel an echo. I bury my face into her fur and feathers, shamelessly letting out all of my pent-up emotions.

Even as my body shakes and shudders, my sobs muffled by her fur, I can feel her nudging me with her muzzle. She is constantly reassuring me of her presence and support.

Ever the worrier.

My dear Nevasca.

***

I don’t know how long I let myself go for, but when I finally managed to calm my storming seas of emotion, my ice wall needed a new coat. Thankfully, Quinn is still sleeping, albeit not quit as comfortable without Nevasca as a pillow.

“Hey,” I whisper, rubbing Nevesca behind the ears. “Thank you.”

She buries her head in my side, nuzzling against me. My lips part in a sad smile. The simple words ‘thank you’ can’t express the gratitude I feel for all she has done for me, but I think she understands. I love Nevesca deeply. She has become a part of me. More a part of me than just having a piece of my soul.

But, she isn’t the family and home I miss. I would gladly trade my life to protect her, but she isn’t a replacement. I don’t know. It’s a hard thought process to express, but she understands without me saying anything. That is one of the things that makes her so special to me.

I pick up the tear stained book once again, hardening my heart to the potential emotion provoking passages within. Part of me wants to put the book away and not risk getting triggered again, but a bigger part of me needs to know. I need to know how the magic here works.

‘My experimentation began with the common elements in the way my peers use Source. I narrowed it down to two simple categories. All of my peers use simple elemental magic and they do so with wordless casting. For my first active experiment, I used these two facts as dependent variables.

I set up a series of metal sheets placed two inches apart from each other. For my baseline, I cast a simple fireball spell in the manner I had used before regaining my memories (wordlessly willing a fireball into existence). That spell burnt through three sheets of metal and used 15 points of Source from my status screen.

For my first dependent variable, I used an incantation to cast the fireball. The incantation was a simple [Fireball], but the results were significant. Using the same amount of Source, this spell managed to burn through twice the sheets of metal as the control spell.

For the second independent variable, I did not use an incantation, but wove together a complex version of a fireball using the fire, wind, and light elements instead. I used the runes of the elements from my old world to do so. The results were impressive. Using 25 points of source, the corresponding fireball destroyed 15 sheets of metal.

Despite the success of this experiment, it only raised more questions.’

Reading this passage makes me think there may be a strong connection between imagery and performance. In my old world, I never worried about incantations or runes because, well, I was beloved by magic and the whole runic language was engraved into my skin. But now, I might be able to benefit from saying command words for my spells. A simple phrase to help me envision what I want to happen. I’ll have to try it.

The author’s goal is to prove the basic laws governing magic as it exists in this dimension. After several in-depth experiments, they came to a conclusion. Their conclusion was that the method doesn’t matter as much as the price. They first stumbled upon this hypothesis when experimenting with blood magic and the changes it brought to simple spells.

‘After killing the chicken, I used its life force to fuel the [Fireball]. As a result, I used zero Source and managed to burn through 20 metal sheets. What is also worth noting, is that the shape and appearance of this fireball was significantly different to a fireball fueled by Source.’

This is not to say that the method doesn’t matter. The author makes it clear that the method of spell casting is a variable the alters the outcome. However, for this volume the author was more interested in the broad, governing laws of magic and not the different ways to access it.

I wonder if using my blood to draw runes would change my spells. I’m just spit balling here, but if I drew the runes for [Ice Spear] maybe I could create something a little handier than a glorified icicle. My ice has gotten more and more dense, which is great, but heavy and not ideal. An enchanted ice as strong as steal and as light and flexible as wood would be better. I feel like I've been trying to operate in the laws of nature, without taking into account that magic has laws of its own. Hmmm…

The author’s hypothesis can be simplified to the following: the value of the payment equals performance. Source, a constant renewing energy that everyone has, is the universal, or neutral, payment. Sacrificing things that are non-renewable will result in greater feats, but it is also possible to pay with renewable energies.

To test this hypothesis, the author contacted two brothers he has previously run afoul of. They had a dispute about the true nature of power as the brothers believed raw physical strength is the only way forward. Pretending to be offering an olive branch, the author told the brothers he could inscribe runes in their body that would allow them to sacrifice their magical potential for physical prowess.

They accepted, and the author did just that. However, in private the author separated the brothers and told them two different explanations as to how the runes work. To the more obnoxious brother, he said that he must offer up his very ability to do magic as a sacrifice. To the slightly more reasonable brother, he said they must offer their Source as continuous fuel.

They did as they were told and the results deferred greatly. The obnoxious brother grew in stature, becoming a giant of a man with great strength and skin like iron. The more reasonable brother reported great gains in all physical aspects, but not to the extent his brother experienced. After a time, the brothers learned of [Skills]. The obnoxious brother could not use any [Skills] as they required Source, but the reasonable brother could wax and wane his Source payment, achieving the best of both worlds.

The author then goes into great detail how both of the brothers fell into despair because they were being outmatched on all sides by Awakened and monsters alike. They apparently died horrible deaths, which the author took great glee in because, and I quote, ‘Magic is superior to Physical Prowess.’

This dude was kind of dick, honestly.

Anyway after a few more morally questionable experiments on the nature of magic, the conclusions were as follows:

The following are my conclusions on the operations of magic in this world:

Magic is fueled by the price paid for it. Source is the Universal currency of Magic. The nature of the payment alters the effects of the spell. The greater the price, the greater the performance. The differences between Schools of Magic is unclear. Runic Magic, Incantation Magic, Blood Magic, Wordless Casting, etc. all have differing results, but the how and why is not immediately clear.

Last but not least, the last few pages of the book is a basic runic index. My earlier emotional outburst is forgotten as a gear up for some experimentation of my own.