Chapter 8: Unexpected Memoria

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I close the door to my bedroom behind me before jumping on my bed, burrowing my face in my pillow, and screaming while kicking my feet on the bed. Why is my heart beating so fast? Why do I feel so weird after hearing Rimar compliment me? He was just joking anyway.

Having calmed down a bit, I turn on my back and bring an arm over my forehead. Was he really just joking? Normally I'm able to play along, but this time I got overwhelmed. I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I hope he actually meant it when he said I was cute.

I close my eyes and take a few minutes to calm down. During that time, however, I keep hearing Rimar's compliment over and over again in my head, which does make it harder to bring my wild emotions back under control. Still, I eventually manage to slow my heart down and cool my face off.

As I sit back up on my bed, my eyes lock on to the wig I left there. What would he think if I put it back on for dinner? As far as I know, he has a preference for women with longer hair...

I shake my head as I realize what I'm thinking. Why would I go out of my way to get him to see me as attractive? Just to get more compliments? Sure, it felt great to be called "cute", but I'm going to go back sooner or later, so I can't play with his feelings that way. I have to be mature here.

Now that I've calmed down, I should go back out and see with Rimar what we'll be having for dinner.

 

Dinner goes by without issues. Neither of us talk about what just happened, and we eventually manage to break the awkward silence and go back to our usual banter. Once we're done, since I don't have to go to work tomorrow, I grab a controller and play games in the living room for a chunk of the night, long after Rimar goes to bed. I eventually get too tired to keep going, so I go back to my room, change into one of my oversized pajamas, and go to sleep.

I'm woken up the next morning by my phone ringing. Confused, I grab it and answer, causing a yawn to be the first thing the person on the other end hears. Before I have time to close my mouth and answer properly, I hear:

"Mister Izei Sol, yes?"

"Yep, it's me."

"I am from the Spearhead Research Department. We've finished analyzing the ring you were carrying during the incident four days ago."

"Already? So you can turn me back?"

"I... really wish I could give you the answer you want to hear, but unfortunately, your case is turning out to be more complicated than expected. The curse is gone from the ring, which means this was a one-time thing. From the remnants of the spell we managed to retrace on it, we concluded that its effect was to inject a memoria into your magistream."

A memoria, eh? They're small magical structures that form within us when we use magic and that eventually dissolve back into normal energy, but I've never heard of someone having one forcefully added to their body.

"... That sounds pretty bad."

"It potentially is. We will need you to come to the laboratory today so we can analyze your magic energy and try to figure out what the effect of the memoria is on it. In all likelihood, your physical changes were brought about by it, making it so countering its effects will bring you back to normal. We will need to fully understand its structure before we can hope to do that, however."

"I understand. I'll be there as soon as I can."

I hang up, then let myself fall on my back. A memoria, of all things. I might end up staying like this for longer than originally anticipated if they need to completely decipher it to be able to turn me back.

 

As I leave my bedroom, I see Rimar having breakfast. He looks up towards me and says:

"It's rare for you to get up later than me. Everything okay?"

As I head to the kitchen to grab my own breakfast, I answer:

"I figured I'd try to catch up on all the sleep I didn't get over the last few days. I'll be going out today too though, they need to analyze my magic to figure out how to turn me back."

"I see. Well, I hope everything goes well for you. I'm about to head to work, do you think you'll be here for dinner?"

"I think so, I'll call if this takes longer."

He nods as he gets up, then leaves the apartment. I sigh as I lean against the counter, the realization that I might spend a lot longer in this body than anticipated fully hitting me.

 

I enter the elevator and press the button to the fourth floor, which is where the research department's laboratories are. I rarely come to the Spearhead headquarters, so I check the map on my phone one last time to make sure I'm going the right way.

After getting out of the elevator, I make my way to the room where they keep the diagnosis equipment and knock on the door. It takes a few seconds for someone to answer, and it opens on a short brown-haired elven woman wearing large safety glasses. She looks at me for a moment, then asks:

"Mister Sol?"

"That's me."

"You can call me Runnie. I'm surprised to see you wearing women's clothing. I would have expected you to be more resistant to the changes."

"Well, my old clothes are too large now, and I wanted to avoid attracting too much attention on the way here."

"Still, I think most people in your situation would simply purchase some men's clothes at their new size and find a way to conceal their breasts instead of letting the world notice their presence. You're even wearing a bra, really going out of your way to fit in."

Under this series of comments, I can feel myself getting more and more embarrassed.

"Well, uh... Things happened? Anyway, what matters is that I found myself with these clothes and I figured it'd be a waste to not wear them at least a bit."

She smirks in response, then notes something down on a pad before fully opening the door and inviting me in.

"We're going to run a few tests on you today, but nothing painful or invasive. Our goal is to map out the memoria that likely still exists within you so that its structure can be further analyzed."

"Do you know how long that analysis will take?"

"It depends on how complex it is. Best case scenario, it could be done next week if it happens to be similar to something we've seen before. Worst case scenario, we're looking at a year of running our tools on it to collect the data we need."

"A year!?"

"Like I said, that's really the worst possible outcome. In all likelihood, it'll take somewhere between one and six months."

"That's still pretty long. And I have to stay in this body the entire time?"

She invites me to sit on a chair as she says:

"Indeed, but you seem to be adapting just fine to it. How's your mental health been?"

"It's been... fine, I guess?"

As I say that, I remember how much Rimar's compliment struck me yesterday. Is that something I would have felt in my old body, or is it a result of my transformation? Maybe she knows, so I continue:

"However, I've been feeling certain emotions for the first time, and I'm not sure how to deal with that."

"New emotions, eh? Were they from situations you wouldn't have found yourself in if you hadn't become a woman?"

"I think so, yes."

"Then it's likely that they're simply revealing new facets of your personality. If these new experiences continue into situations that should be normal for you, then it could be a result of your transformation changing the way you think about certain things."

"Is that... something that can happen?"

"We're in uncharted territory here. What can and cannot happen is entirely a mystery. If your body changed this much, there's no guarantee that your mind didn't also get affected. And even if it didn't, the hormones in your blood are different now, and that can lead to some changes in the way you feel and process emotions."

"I see... so any difference could be caused by a number of factors..."

"Well, if you ever find that you don't recognize yourself anymore, that's probably the transformation. The other factors wouldn't cause anything that major."

"I see. Well, for now I seem fine on that front, so that's reassuring."

"Good! Now, please put these bracelets on, we're going to proceed with the first test."

 

I spend the next few hours going through a bunch of machines, having probes attached to me, and filling out seemingly random questionnaires. Once I finally sit back down at the end of it all, Runnie types a few things on her keyboard, then turns towards me and says:

"Looks like we have an almost perfect model of the memoria. 99.97% accuracy, which is far higher than necessary to proceed to a full analysis. I'm sorry to say, but that's bad news."

"Ah? It is?"

"Yes. You see, the larger a memoria is, the easier it is to model it, but the more complex it tends to be. In your case, it is... Well, it's not the most complex one I've ever seen, but it's not far."

I feel despair fill my heart as I hear these words.

"So what you're saying is... it'll take a very long time to analyze, correct?"

"Correct. I'm really sorry."

I look down at my hands, which brings my chest into view as well. I guess this is going to be my body for a long while longer. I wonder how Rimar will react to the news. And what about my job?

"Will I be able to go back to work?"

"We'll try to get an answer as soon as possible. A rogue memoria in your magistream could prevent you from using spells or cause unintended effects, so we need to determine if this one poses such a risk before you're allowed to dungeon delve again. In the meantime, since this counts as a work injury with a long recovery time, there's government assistance available. I'll ask HR to send you the details."

"Nothing to do but wait, then. Thank you for everything."

"Really sorry to not have better news to share. I'll try to keep you updated on our progress."

I get up and leave the room, still in shock from learning that I'll potentially have to stay like this for a whole year. There's so many things that can happen in one year! What if I get used to this body? What if I meet new people who get my female form as their first impression of me? How am I going to handle visits to my family? So many questions!

Before I know it, I'm back home, all of my concerns still bouncing around in my head. I walk slowly to the living room and sit on one of the armchairs, unsure of what to do next.

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