The Wellspring of Memory- the beloved secluded spot of many a secret-keeping plucky young protagonist. It is said that if you stare into the pool, the water will show you memories you’ve forgotten- guidance and prophecy from the horse-gods. You sit down near the rocky outcropping just above the cool water, and it’s as if the whole forest is aglow. It’s quiet here, the perfect place to ground yourself. You look into the water, wondering idly what you’ve forgotten, but also in some marvel of the natural world. It is truly beautiful here.
Around when I started working on this project, I went looking for my old collection of Bella Sara cards. Partially for inspiration, and partially for the cozy glow of nostalgia that would accompany them. I never actually found them; I suspect I ended up giving them to Goodwill without thinking when I was clearing out my room in my old house in 2022 or so. My only physical remnant of my experience with Bella Sara is, too, a memory now, just like all the other horse games I played once and have forgotten. I suppose I could mourn that, but the idea I’ve been getting at- through all of this- is that wallowing in that feeling without action is unconstructive. “Empty nostalgia” is pervasive throughout pop culture right now- endless movie remakes; “I was born in the wrong generation” comments; the fixation on retro aesthetics like “webcore”, ”Fruitiger Aero”, ”Y2K”, etc. It can be an unhealthy impulse- even without going into the more dangerous forms of wishing to return to the past- because it doesn’t require any sort of hard thought or action- just retreating back into a castle where you can watch the sea. Wallowing in the past is the only thing that makes you happy. I, myself, am not immune to nostalgia.
Perhaps it was appropriate that, around the concept stage of Clovenglade, I also reread The Last Unicorn for the first time since I was around 8. I’ve seen the movie several times, and each time I re-experience the story I get a little more out of it than I did before. Particularly, I was quite taken with the aspect of Lir that didn’t really make it into the animated version- that his obsession with the Unicorn nearly led him down the same path as his adopted father, King Haggard. But what gives him solace is the idea that the Unicorn, being an immortal creature, will remember him forever- a sort of “immortal love”. The idea of memory and immortality is touched upon many times throughout the book. A skull drinks the memory of fine wine; a witch finds immortality in holding an ageless harpy captive, so it will remember her forever; the wizard Schmendrick is cursed to be immortal until he masters his craft; Molly Grue reckons with her own aging while having the most youthful soul of the entire cast; a Unicorn is made mortal and learns regret. I’ve heard some argue that it’s a memento mori piece, which I find to be a solid reading of the text. But the theme of chasing eternity is broader, I think. This is why the Unicorn and Lir love each other, but can never be together. She cannot be held by someone mortal enough to want her.
And so all that remains is their memories... They cannot grasp the ephemeral love ever again.
But that impermanence is itself beautiful. It is beautiful to be remembered; to be a story passed along. Nothing is truly eternal, after all.
So, I can remember the games I once played, and I can carry the torch forward. Despite this I have, in a way, fallen to the impulse. I spent at least two hours or so looking for that lost childhood tin of cards; I downloaded the janky PC Bella Sara game (which wasn’t quite the same as what I was yearning for from the website); I reread one of the books (which were actually my gateway into the series); anything to capture that feeling again- consuming on loop. Until I found that I could only find it through creation. So in a way, creating my own "horse game" is a form of closure, for something that could never last.
Put more succinctly, it was down to either keep looking fruitlessly for the vanished cards, or create my own.
Because a great deal of Bella Sara is considered lost media, all that remains is our memories. But our remembrance of the ephemeral can be a guide for our future, rather than a constant tether to our past... Or, perhaps, it is both.
Perhaps if you stare into the water, you too can find something to guide you. Draw a prophetic card- whichever message has been given to you is the one which you are to hold dear. You're also free to save your cards to keep track of your collection, or display them on a webpage.