Star awoke from a restless sleep at the break of dawn, unable to sleep anymore. She sat up in bed and stared around her room, wondering just what it was that had happened last night. Her memories of love were gone. But what memories of love? Of her family? Of her friends? Who took them? And why was there a small blue phial in her wand? She never kept anything in there. She didn't even know there was a compartment in the wand at all. SO many questions swam in her head, making her dizzy.
Slithering out of bed, she stood and stretched, unable to stay in bed anymore, as well. She wanted to talk to Marco, to tell him what had happened, but she didn't know if he was mad at her still or not. Deciding that she would not risk the confrontation, she decided to go up to the small library she had in her room to do some investigation on memory retrieval and stolen memories.
On the top level, she stood in front of the mirror that guarded her library and waved her hand across the surface. Rippling like water, the mirror vanished and lay passage to a darkly lit room, paneled in mahogany and lit by short candles. Upon entering, the door to the library shut and closed her in, just as she wished it to. Locked away, surrounded by tomes of ages and texts on every subject in the known universe, Star searched the shelves for any book that dealt with memories.
Climbing the ladder, she wheeled across the towering shelves, her eyes scanning the spines and old, dusty scrolls, trying desperately to find anything. She didn't dare call upon Glossarick, as he would be absolutely no help whatsoever, even though he knew every secret of her wand. This was something new, something she had never read about before. She pulled down book after book on magic, spells, and memory spells and set them on the large table in the center of the room. Pulling up a chair, she opened the cover of a particularly large volume, and coughed in the cloud of dust that arose from the old parchment pages.
"When was the last time this book was even opened?" she mused. This library was old. Hidden in a castle in the darker forests of Mewni, none but the bravest of men, or the wisest of sorcerers have ventured to this castle. She looked at the door she has passed through, which had now turned into a solid wall, covered by a long, wide tapestry, depicting scholars deeply involved in mysterious works and volumes of ancient knowledge. She had, when she discovered the library three years ago, connected it to her room on Mewni, and thus her room on Earth, through the enchanted mirror.
Taking a deep breath and waving the remainder of the dust away from her face, she turned the page. It was crisp and brittle from age, yellowing and wrinkling at the edges. The volume had been hand written, ages ago and left to sit and collect dust from then on. The writing was sloping and script, something she wasn't able to easily decipher. But she had no other choice. This volume was on spells and potions, particularly ones that dealt with alterations of mind and memory.
Scanning down the table of contents, she saw what she thought to be memory restoration. Lifting about one thousand pages, she dropped them with a dull thud, and the pages once more emitted a large cloud of dust. Coughing again, she waved her hand in front of her face to clear the dust and started to scan down the page.
"Damn... Nothing," she cursed under her breath. Slamming the book shut, she moved to the next, slowly eliminating every single volume and scroll she had pulled off of the shelves.
Declaring this visit a bust, she left the room. Moving the tapestry aside, she passed through the mirror and back into her room. Unaware of how much time she had spent in the library, she decided to get something to eat, as her stomach growled from lack of food.
Changing into a light summer dress, she headed out of her room and downstairs to the kitchen.
"Yeah, I'm just not so sure on how I feel about her staying here. I mean, I like her and all, but she invades everyone's space whenever she's here, as if she has no respect for personal boundaries." Star's heart stopped. That voice sounded like Marco.
"She'll be gone before you realize it, Marco. You'll only have to deal with her for a short period of time. I know how you feel about her. I'm really not to keen on her either, but she has no one else to stay with while she's here." The other voice sounded like Mrs. Diaz, and Star felt her heart crack.
They didn't want her here? She was invasive of personal space? Star looked down at her feet. She never had been like that. At least now. But she had only been on Earth for a day. And she was staying the year. How could they say that? Deciding that confrontation was useless at the time, she bucked up her courage, fought back her tears and walked into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Star! How'd you sleep?" Mrs. Diaz asked, her enthusiasm and genuine care false.
"Fine, thank you," Star replied coolly. "May I have some coffee?" she added, pointing to the coffee maker, the pot nearly full. Mrs. Diaz smiled widely and nodded.
"Of course, dear. Marco brewed it not fifteen minutes ago," she smiled. "Let me grab you a mug." She opened a cupboard and handed Star a mug. Star looked at the mug and her breath caught in her throat. It had shooting stars on it, intermingled with rainbow butterflies, all against an indigo background.
"We ordered that when you left," Mrs. Diaz said, her tone changing drastically. She sounded sad all of a sudden.
"Why?" Star asked, filling the mug nearly to the rim.
"We were hoping you'd come back," she replied. Star's heart skipped a beat. Surely she didn't mean it. Not after what she had overheard them talking about.
"We missed you, Star. It was our only way of remembering you when you left," Marco said. Star was startled to hear him speak. She was sure they were on nonverbal terms. She set her mug down and turned to look at them. Marco was wearing an old high school track shirt and pajama pants, and Mrs. Diaz was wearing the robe she had on last night.
"Then why did you say you didn't want me here? I overheard you talking about me. How I wouldn't be here for long, and I'd be gone before you knew it. And how I had no regard for personal..." She was cut off by Marco, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, silencing her on the spot. He smelled good, even after sleeping. His arms felt the same as they did when she arrived here yesterday afternoon. Lean, not too muscular, but safe. His chest was taut and she buried her face in his tee, silently crying. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly, as if he were her anchor to Earth.
"We weren't talking about you, Star. We wanted you here. We want you here forever, you know that. We all love you," Marco whispered, loud enough for only Star to hear. Her crying intensified, her tears undoubtedly soaking his shirt, but Marco only held her closer.
"We were talking about my Aunt Abigail, sweetheart," Mrs. Diaz said after her son let go of the princess. Star wiped her tears away and sniffled. Taking a sip of coffee, she listened as Mrs. Diaz explained about the older woman and how she would come to stay every now and then. This just happened to be a 'now and then' visit.
Calming down completely, she drank more of her coffee as she found it easier to talk about what had happened on Mewni over the past five years. She told them about Tom, and how she was supposed to marry him. She told them about being regent for a year, her new housing plans and how they were almost finished, and she told them about her mother's scheme, all to make her a better queen.
"Sounds like you had an experience," Mrs. Diaz smiled. Star grinned and looked between Marco and his mother.
"I did. But I still have a bit more to learn. That's why I have to leave once a week for the day, to prepare and do more lessons," Star explained. She hadn't told them that once a week she'd be leaving, but much to her surprise, they took it without despair.
"We understand. You have to prepare for being a queen," Mrs. Diaz said, standing to place their mugs in the sink. Star looked at Marco while his mother's back was turned and Marco's heart skipped a beat. There was once single twinkle in her eye. One that meant not all hope was lost. He had heard what happened in her room last night. How her memories were taken from her and bottled in a small phial.
"Star, there's something I have to tell you," he whispered. "Can we talk in the living room?" Star looked at him with curiosity, but nodded nonetheless.
"Hey, Mom, you have a great day at work, okay? We'll see you when you get home," Marco said, standing from the kitchen table. Mrs. Diaz turned to her son and Star and smiled brightly.
"Have a great day, you two!" she beamed as they headed out of the kitchen and into the living room. Marco sat Star down on the couch and sat opposite her. She looked at him once more with curiosity as he started to explain how he heard everything. He expected Star to be furious with him, to accuse him of espionage, but she simply nodded her head and told him what she had done this morning.
"I wasn't sure what I was looking for, as I have no idea what memories I've lost. Or how they went missing," Star explained. "The figure that spoke to me, her message was so vague. I searched through I have no idea how many books this morning, and I came up with nothing."
Marco looked pensively at the coffee table, as if he expected it to come to life and give him all of the answers. But he as well was coming up blank.
"Can we take a look at the phial?" he asked, trying to suggest anything that would assist them in this mystery. Star nodded and they stood, heading for her room.
She opened the door, heading over to her desk and opened a small box that Marco had never seen before. Inside was lined with burgundy crushed velvet, and lying in the center was the glowing blue phial. Star lifted it from its bed and placed it gently in Marco's hands. He turned it over and over, wondering just what was inside. He noticed it was corked and pointed this out to Star as well.
"I don't know. It just looks like a bottled spell to me," Star said, and explained how volatile bottled spells were if opened. Marco shied away from the bottle slightly and placed it back into the velvet bed. Star closed the box and moved to her bed, sitting down on the edge.
"I don't know what to do," she said, sounding defeated. "They were my memories of love. Maybe all of my memories of everyone I love are gone. Maybe I forgot how to love my parents, or my friends." Star collapsed back onto the blankets, her blonde hair falling around her. Marco looked back at her, and suddenly a light when off in his head.
"Star, do you remember anything about your parents telling you who made the wand?" he asked. She shot up, sitting bolt upright.
"Marco Diaz, you may be on to something," she said, a grin creeping over her face. She hopped off her bed and reached beneath. Marco wondered for just a moment at what she was doing, but when she pulled the large book that contained every spell concerning her wand, he was no longer in the dark.
"The author of the book must be the same person who made the wands! Otherwise, who would make a wand and not know how to use it?" she declared, a wild sort of enthusiasm gleaming in her eyes. She lifted the book onto her bed and started to flip through the pages at the front and back of the book.
"Aha!" she declared, pointing to very small script at the bottom right corner of the back cover. How she was able to find that was beyond Marco's comprehension, but was relieved she found it nonetheless.
"It says... Ugh, it's too small; I can't read it," she exclaimed exasperatedly. Marco motioned for her to give him the book and he tried to read it. Squinting, he tried to make out the sloping handwriting, worn away from years of use.
"It says... Fifteen eighty-seven, Gorlog," Marco read, completely confused by the name, or the numbers. "Do you recognize that at all? Is that some sort of Mewni-library code? Like we have the Dewey decimal system here on Earth?"
Star was deep in thought, wracking her brain for any sort of memory of what that could possibly mean. "I think I might know where to find out," she declared, standing and running up the staircase. Marco, surprised at her outburst, shoved the book aside and followed her, wondering where in the world she was heading.
"We can find out in here," Star said, pointing to the mirror. Marco looked at her.
"A mirror," he said. Star smiled and shook her head, waving her hand in front of the mirror. Marco gaped at the surface as it rippled.
"C'mon, its through here," she said, and stepped through the frame. Following tentatively, Marco stepped into the library.