Steady Gaze said:
Tell Moondancer about our mysterious past, the research we’ve done so far, and how we hope to find out more however we can, possibly with the aid of divination magic.
We want to get our lost memories back. Like where we came from, who our parents are, what happened to us, how the grizzled unicorn is involved and if we can track him down, etc. […]
We want to find out whether we’re related to our soulmate Honourshine. […]
Speaking of which, you ask Moondancer if she can indulge a personal request of yours. You explain that as foals, both you and Honourshine were brought in to an orphanage by whom the matron described as a grizzled unicorn. You then recount how you awoke without any memories of your past before then, save your own and each other’s names.
Moondancer: “That sounds horrible.”
You admit that having each other helped you look past it for the longest time. But now, looking back, you can’t help but wonder what happened. You had hoped that you would eventually stumble across a lead — or at least a rumour — on your travels, but never did. That is, until just recently when you read a book about memories, and learned how divination magic might help.
Moondancer: “On the Subject of Memories? I think I have a copy.”
You tell Moondancer that she has used divination magic to identify some of the treasure you found before. You ask her if she would be able to use the same magic to identify where you came from, or who your parents were.
Moondancer: “Well, I can certainly try, but we’ll need a scrying pool. I think I have one of those lying around somewhere…”
Honourshine’s eyes light up with hope as the unicorn begins to rummage through a large cabinet by the far wall. After some rustling, clattering, and clinking, Moondancer pulls out the device she was looking for: a silver plate filled with a deep black liquid, and covered by a thick glass dome.
Once the scrying pool is placed down on a stool nearby, you all gather around it curiously.
Moondancer: “Let’s start with you. Ready?”
You nod, and Moondancer’s horn pulses alight as she begins to cast a spell. You feel the magic pass through you as though it moves in a direction outside of this dimension. Soon, the surface of the scrying pool begins to glow a faint purple, and ripples with rings of magic. And then… nothing.
Moondancer: “The spell… failed? I didn’t think that was possible.”
You try asking the unicorn what she thinks it means.
Moondancer: “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen this happen before.”
Moonflower: “Ooh, can you try me?”
Moondancer: “Let’s see…”
Moondancer tries to cast the spell again, this time on Moonflower. After a few seconds, the pool begins to glow again. Then, colours emerge from beyond the darkness, and sparkles begin to float behind the glass. In the reflection of a reflection, you see the blurry image of two bat ponies in a desert; one a deep blue stallion with a silver mane, and the other, a light yellow mare with magenta hair.
Moonflower: “Look! Can you see ‘em? There’s my mom and dad!”
Honourshine: “… So it does work…”
The image then slowly fades away like the twilight of dusk, and the pool returns to its dormant state.
Moondancer: “This is what should have happened the first time. Maybe it doesn’t work on alicorns. I’ll have to review the spell later, and figure out what went wrong. Oh, should I try it on you as well?”
Honourshine nods, and you turn your attention back to the scrying pool once more. However, just like before, the surface lights up with a faint purple aura, and after a few ripples of magic… nothing. You feel your foalhood friend deflate at the display.
Honourshine: “… Does the spell rely on our bodies’ memories?”
The room falls silent as Moondancer considers the implications of Honourshine’s theory. You think back to the book you read together, and recall that a certain type of memory was kept within all physical things in order for them to remember their own state.
Moondancer: “You know, you might be onto something, but I hope you’re wrong. That would explain why the divination spell is failing, but if your body is missing its memories, then you aren’t dealing with a simple mind-alteration spell. Or arcane magic at all, for that matter.”
You suggest that if anyone knows something, it must be the grizzled unicorn. You ask Moondancer if there’s any way to track him down.
Moondancer: “There’s a chance, but we’ll need the help of someone who remembers him.”
Moondancer: “There’s a chance, but we’ll need the help of someone who remembers him.”
The matron, you conclude. Until then, you try asking if there’s any way for you and Honourshine to know whether you are related or not. For… reasons.
Moondancer: “If nopony is tracing your bloodlines, then I’m afraid you won’t get a straight answer until you solve the mystery of your lost memories. At best, a sanguimancer at the clinic might be able to tell if you’re part of the same clan.
But if you’re worried about doing that, well… you’re the expert here, aren’t you? Just trust your instincts.”
You grin at the familiar phrase, and the clearer path forward seems to ease Honourshine’s bitterness.