Morty wasn't even trying to do anything this time. He was just fucking around with some cardboard, and okay, maybe it turned into an eldritch sigil of some kind, and then it blew up in his face, and now there's people in his room.
"Sure... if it helps, the thing that lets you access your innate spellword is trained by writing stream of consciousness. Describe as being able to remove whatever obstacles that prevent your spellword from moving from the back of your mind to the tip of your tongue."
"Also, if you look around his memories, just remember that I kinked on it."
Sandy raises her eyebrow. “I’m not likely to run into any sexual misadventures, but noted.”
She closes her eyes and reaches out to touch Herod’s forehead with one finger. There’s a long moment of concentration.
”Okay,” she says eventually, “so those must be your memorized spells... that’s so weird, they’re not like normal memories at all. And - let’s see, what do you have in your subconscious that other people don’t? This looks like... repressed memories from your past life, makes sense. You want those back?”
Memories become available in quick succession as Sandy pages through his mind. If he wasn’t thinking about it he probably wouldn’t notice; they don’t assert themselves, they just slot into place with all the others.
“There we go,” she says. “Now there’s two things left in there. One of them... yeah, that looks like a spell alright. Three two one yoink.”
It feels weird. Not like the memories, which politely filed themselves away; the spellword is just There, ready to be used, almost eager.
“How’s that?” Sandy asks smugly.
Herod takes a sharp take of breath and has to cover his mouth to prevent himself from speak.
"I have a spellword!"
"Ooh, what is it? What does it do?"
"It's dispel magic," he doesn't actually use it. "And I remembered our full names. Herod Omar and Gavriel Valens." He turns to Sandy. "Thank you so much! How can I repay you?"
"Yes, please!" Gavriel answers, he actually claps excitedly.
Herod covers his mouth. "I mean, go ahead. I am just covering his mouth because I am not sure he wouldn't cast his spell out of excitement."
"Okay, Gavriel Valens, don't just use the spellword recklessly."
"Man, I feel... maturer? I know that death is supposed to set you back, but it's so weird how much."
"That all said. Increase Strength!" He casts.
His muscles - which by no means were small - gain even more mass and strain against his clothes. "Increase Strength!" This time the same happens to Herod.
Herod looks down at his own tighter clothes and then says. "Dispel Magic!" He returns to normal.
"Maybe twice as strong? It lasts about an hour, but I doubt it's game-changing in a world like yours."
"Actually, it's a biological transmutation spell. It will still take a few years, but you probably can pivot it into forms of shape shifting and healing."
"I already feel perfect the way I am, but that's so true. More importantly, the spell is all mine and I can use it as many times I want without super-boring reading for hours and hours being involved. And I remember everything from my first life. My dad was a jerk. I feel the urge to sculpt something." These sentences appear to be coming out independently of one another.
"Your first-life sculptures were lovely," Henry nods. "Thank you." He repeats to Sandy.
She shakes her head. "It's nice to get some practice in on something a little more complicated than linking everybody up in a fight. But, uh, speaking of which, I wasn't technically supposed to do that, so maybe don't mention it around the Psychic Arts staff."
"I was wondering about that," Jack notes.
Herod mimes locking his lips and hiding the key.
He has been introcuded to the concept of zippers just yesterday, some related idioms are beyond his reach.
He frowns. "I wonder how my magic dispel is supposed to interact with local magic? Is it dangerous to test by ourselves?"
"How about using dispel on the hobgoblins? Would you end up with more hobgoblins then?"