Spells. Magic. Words. He needed to read the words. He needed to read the arcane script that had given him his power before he forgot the spells he had just so recently used. He knew because he had found his journals, his books, his little keepsakes to help him remember in case he forgot. Oceans of ink detailed each one of his memories he could recall as precise as he could, everything about him that mattered. He had kept copies upon copies, along with a map of where they were hidden so that even if he forgot them, he would know where to find them again.