“From one to another, another to one…”
Deep in his underground cellar-stroke-laboratory-stroke-study beneath his home in Canterlot, Star Swirl the Bearded was casting a spell. His delivery was a loud and confident one, with the intonation of a stallion addressing the entire universe. The fact that he was actually standing alone wearing his signature hat and cloak didn’t seem to deter the aged pony in the slightest as he continued.
“…a mark of one’s destiny, singled out alone, fulfilled.”
The sound reverberated around the stone chamber, causing several glass bottles on the shelves to wobble dangerously. Star Swirl barely noticed, however — his horn was beginning to glow with a bright white aura, the colour matching the shade of his namesake beard. As the magic level began to rise, he allowed the tiniest of smiles to show on his face.
And then suddenly, his horn exploded.
Star Swirl was thrown backwards in an instant, immediately losing his hat before colliding painfully with the bookshelf behind him. The assorted books and scrolls fell straight on top of him, and he coughed violently as a thick cloud of dust whipped up around him. As he opened his eyes again, he let out an aggravated moan.
“Blasted spell…”
Slowly, he pulled himself back up off the floor, and after taking a moment for the pain to subside hobbled over to gather his notebook, scattered on the floor opposite him. As he approached, he began the motions of a basic levitation spell — only to falter as he realised that the book wasn't moving.
“Oh for pony’s sake, not again!”
Star Swirl sighed. It wasn’t exactly unexpected — magic burnout was one of the more likely side effects from a spell explosion. This was the eighth time it had happened this week, however, and each time it had left him unable to perform even the simplest of spells. To make matters worse, it was taking longer and longer each time to recover — a five minute pause had been tolerable the first few times, but now he was facing at least an hour with no magic, severely cutting into his research time.
He snorted angrily, before picking up the notebook with his right hoof. The situation wasn’t a total loss yet — even if he couldn’t do any practical tests he could at least try and work on the spell theory. Clearly there was some crucial step he was missing somewhere, and with an hour of uninterrupted study perhaps he could—
Knock-knock. “Star Swirl?”
A muffled voice emerged from behind the wooden door upstairs, and Star Swirl’s reply was predictably terse. “Busy. No time. Come back later.”
“It’s Clover. Can I come in?”
Star Swirl groaned. “What is it?”
“I’ve got something to tell you,” came Clover’s voice through the door. “I know that you’re busy, but it’s pretty big news, and I thought you’d want to know before it gets announced officially—”
“Yes yes, I get the point,” interrupted Star Swirl, barely bothering to keep his frustration hidden. He looked around the room briefly, before letting out a resigned sigh. “Well, come on then. Might as well get this over with.”
He heard the door above unlock, and as it swung open he finally got to see the source of the interruption — his student and fellow resident, Clover the Clever. She was smiling as she came through the doorway, but on seeing the mess in the cellar a shocked look crossed her face.
“What happened in here?”
“Never mind that,” replied Star Swirl irritably. “Just get down here and tell me this news so I can get back to work.”
Clover shuffled on the spot, slightly taken aback, and Star Swirl rolled his eyes. “Come on, come on!”
The stern tone of voice from her mentor appeared to snap Clover into obedient student mode, and she proceeded down the stairs immediately. She gave an awkward smile as she reached the bottom, but Star Swirl failed to reciprocate.
“Well?” he began, in an almost accusatory tone. “What’s this news then?”
The smile faded from Clover’s face, and she stumbled over her reply. “Erm… well…”
Star Swirl groaned again, and the interruption prompted Clover to blurt out her next statement in a panicked rush. “I got selected!”
Star Swirl’s response was a mixture of confusion and annoyance. “Selected for what?”
“The Advisory Council," said Clover, hesitating momentarily as she processed Star Swirl's reaction. "I got chosen this morning.”
Star Swirl let out an anguished sigh. “Child, why do you insist on speaking in riddles? What in Equestria are you talking about?”
If he’d been paying more attention, Star Swirl might have noticed the hurt expression that briefly flashed across Clover’s face. By the time he had looked back at her, however, it had disappeared.
“The Advisory Council,” she repeated, her voice wavering slightly. “It’s part of the new unified government of Equestria. I was nominated by Princess Platinum a week ago, and the Ruling Council confirmed it this morning.”
Star Swirl remained stone faced and silent, and a nervous Clover began to ramble. “It’s a big responsibility! I’ll be acting as one of the senior advisors to the highest powers in Equestria, and I—”
“Is that it?”
The interruption stunned Clover into silence, and as she looked back to Star Swirl she found herself blinking slightly more than was strictly necessary.
“Well… yes,” she said, apprehensively. “But like I said—”
“And was this the only thing you came to tell me?”
“Y-yes, but—”
Before the words had even left Clover’s lips Star Swirl had turned around, grunting loudly as he did so. As he moved to pick up his hat, Clover stood in shocked silence, not quite processing what had just happened. Eventually however, she found her voice.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, with a hint of trepidation. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
“Pleased?” said Star Swirl, still not looking back at her. “Pleased that you’ve managed to convince a group of pompous, arrogant, entitled nobles to let you join their silly little debate club?”
The hurt look on Clover’s face wasn’t so brief this time, and when she spoke again her voice was shuddery and unconfident. “It’s not… silly.”
Star Swirl snorted derisively, and the sound was enough to provoke Clover into defiance. “It isn’t! Smart Cookie and Pansy have been selected too, and—”
“Who?”
“My friends!” exclaimed Clover. “The pony advisors from the other two tribes! The ponies that helped defeat the Windigos with me! The ponies who—”
“—managed to perform one vaguely remarkable spell one time—”
“It’s not like that!” shouted Clover, her tone despairing. “We’re going to be doing some incredibly important work for Equestria, and—”
“Important?” Star Swirl finally turned back round to face Clover, looking disgusted. “This whole thing is nothing more than a ludicrously shallow attempt by the Ruling Council at pretending they’re willing to pay attention to anyponies opinion besides their own!”
Stunned by Star Swirl's sudden outburst, Clover struggled to respond. “That’s… that’s not true. Princess Platinum said—”
“—exactly what she thought you wanted to hear,” said Star Swirl, his tone bitter. “But do you really think she cares about the dynamics of the aniomorphic spell, or the twelve latent properties of neurogenesis?”
“I—”
“Exactly,” finished Star Swirl. “It’s a side show, child. Lip service to intelligent thinking populated by pawns of the aristocracy. Now, if there’s nothing else you feel the need to tell me, I have more important things to be dealing with.”
As he turned back around and walked back to his desk, Clover stood still, her eyes watering and her body shaking. For several moments she simply stared at the back of Star Swirl’s head, seemingly paralysed by the combined feelings of sorrow, anger and fear pulsing through her body.
“I’ll… go then,” she finally replied, her voice barely audible even in the quiet basement. “You need to get on with your work.”
Star Swirl murmured something indistinct, his attention focused completely on his reading. He didn’t turn around even as Clover made her way back up the stairs towards the exit.
As she reached the top of the stairway and opened the cellar door, Clover paused, taking a long deep breath. Slowly, she turned her head back towards Star Swirl, still busy reading.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice echoing around the cellar. “I’ll leave you alone now.”
Turning back, she walked through the doorway, and a second later pulled the door closed behind her. As it shut, the thudding noise was finally enough to break Star Swirl’s reverie. He turned over a page in his notebook, sighing deeply.
She didn’t understand, he thought to himself idly. Clover had always been a talented mage, but she’d never quite been as studious as he had been, and ever since she’d become involved with Princess Platinum she’d been spending even less time working on her magical theory. How was she supposed to realise just how important this spell was when she was spending all her time trying to make friends?
Then again, if she hadn’t been so willing to become friends with those ponies from the Earth and Pegasus tribes, then she may well have been lost to the Windigoes, along with everypony else. But still, that was merely good fortune. He’d never wasted time making friends when he was younger, and he’d turned out alright, hadn’t he?
The unspoken question was met with an equally silent response, and Star Swirl suddenly felt a lot less certain than he had been five minutes ago. He quickly made to turn over another page of his book before realising that he already made his way from cover to cover, not taking in a single word of its contents.
Instinctively he began to turn back to the first page, but stopped just before he did so. Slowly, he turned back towards the cellar door.
Without giving himself a chance to think about why he was doing it, Star Swirl began walking towards the stairway. It took him a while to get there — he wasn’t nearly as agile as Clover was — but soon enough he was making his way up the stairs up towards the door. Pulling it open slowly with his mouth, he proceeded into the main hallway.
He looked around, as if hoping to see Clover standing just a few feet away, but the silence told him that she was already gone. Not that Star Swirl had any idea of what he would have done if she had been there — in all the years he’d been Clover’s mentor they had rarely had a discussion on any subject beyond Clover’s magic lessons. Star Swirl was a teacher, Clover was his student, and that was the long and short of it, as far as he was concerned. Trying to turn it into anything more personal than that would only have been a distraction, and if there was one thing Star Swirl could not abide, it was distraction.
And yet despite every effort of his to avoid complication, it was becoming clearer and clearer to Star Swirl that it hadn’t quite worked. As he continued to stand in the hallway, he realised that his mind, usually focused on little more than spells and incantations, was now preoccupied with how he’d managed to ruin his student’s happiness in the space of two minutes conversation. Somehow, he had let himself become distracted.
As confused thoughts continued to dance around inside his head, Star Swirl closed his eyes, trying to keep some semblance of focus about him. Gradually, and with no small amount of effort, he began the process of getting himself organised.
First things first — he needed to speak to Clover again, and soon. She clearly wasn’t in the house, and Star Swirl had very little knowledge on what his student did when she wasn’t studying or working with the rulers of Equestria — or what anypony else did, for that matter — so the chances of finding her by running round the town blindly were infinitesimal at best. That left only one other option — wait in the house and speak to her when she returned.
The smallest flicker of doubt suddenly crossed Star Swirl’s mind, and he quickly moved to block it. Clover had always come back to the house before, and there was no reason to suspect she wouldn’t now. Ponies didn’t just leave their homes because they got into fights, did they?
It was a few seconds before Star Swirl realised he didn’t know the answer to his own question. He’d been in arguments before, but those had been with other academics or travelling professors, not with any pony close enough to consider a friend. The only example he could come up with was the fight he’d had less than ten minutes ago, and even then he wasn’t sure if he and Clover could really be considered friends.
There were very few things that Star Swirl would admit to not knowing. He’d built his reputation on knowing things, and he was prepared to take down anypony who dared to suggest otherwise. But on this particular subject, it was becoming clear that he was a complete novice, and as the revelation finally dawned on Star Swirl, he felt an unnatural chill creep up his spine.
He didn’t know what was going to happen, he realised with a shock. He didn’t know if Clover would come back to the house, he didn’t know if he’d be able to speak with her, and he didn’t know if she’d even listen to him if he tried.
All of a sudden, Star Swirl was panic stricken. His studies had failed him, and without the comforting knowledge he had been so reliant on throughout his career he found himself overcome with feelings he’d ignored for so long but were now re-emerging. For the first time in Star Swirl’s long and illustrious life, he found himself unknowing, alone, and afraid.
With a start, he headed towards the front door as fast as he could, no longer caring about the logic of what he was doing. As he frantically pulled the door open, he was immediately engulfed by sunlight, and he clenched his eyes shut to block out the unexpected rush.
For a brief moment, Star Swirl forgot his spontaneous quest to find his student. Preparing himself, he opened his eyes again.
It was something of a shock to Star Swirl when he realised that the light that had blinded him had not emerged from the midday sun as he’d expected. The sun was still shining, but it was clearly setting below the horizon, throwing amber shades over the landscape around him. The evening was well and truly underway, and it had managed to sneak up on him completely unnoticed.
Star Swirl blinked, still slightly stunned by the unanticipated sunset. As his mind began to process the new information, he couldn't help wondering just how much time he’d spent huddled away in his cellar working on his so-called masterpiece. He didn’t know the exact answer anymore, but as he stepped through the doorway he knew that it had been much too long.
Almost automatically, he proceeded forward down the rocky path leading away from his house, not really paying much attention to where he was heading. The last time Star Swirl had ventured outside, it had been six months ago, when he had moved to Equestria to reunite with Clover after the Windigo incident. Clover had picked the house out herself beforehand — she’d told him at the time that it had all the necessary requirements for his studies, as well as an excellent vantage point over the newly formed town that the locals had decided should be known as Canterlot. He remembered inspecting the house briefly, confirming it was adequate, and then simply moving his belongings inside and carrying on with his work, not really bothering to consider why Clover had been so interested in something as inconsequential as the view.
In a brief moment of clarity, Star Swirl turned his head sideward towards the edge of the pathway. The path to and from Star Swirl’s house was carved into a large mountain, beneath which Canterlot was situated. The town wasn’t visible from where he was currently standing, but if he moved a little closer to the edge then maybe he’d be able to figure out why Clover had been so taken by it.
Taking care not to slip over, Star Swirl stepped towards the edge. As the town below finally came into view, a spontaneous gasp crossed his lips.
He could see everything. The whole town was visible from the mountainside, from the strikingly dominant clock tower to the various assorted shops, houses and cottages. Each building was glowing in the sunset, shining as if they had been encrusted with diamonds.
But that wasn’t the most incredible thing that Star Swirl could see. In the streets below, weaving in and out of the buildings and stalls, were ponies of various colours, species and temperaments. Some were clearly annoyed, and complaining as loudly as they could to their eternally patient companions — some were exuberant, jumping and cheering along with every pony they could convince to join in. Despite their differences, though, each of them were living their lives, going out and doing what they could even as the sun set around them.
Looking down from above, Star Swirl could see what had drawn Clover here, and why she had chosen this place to be their home. For the briefest of moments, it felt like everything was finally beginning to fit together.
The feeling of contentment, however, soon faded as he continued to watch. As the ponies below continued with their personal adventures, it suddenly dawned on Star Swirl just how detached he was from it all. The way the ponies below were meeting and bonding and interacting with each other felt positively alien to him, and once again it was becoming clear that this was an area of study in which he was woefully inadequate.
For the longest time Star Swirl simply stared downwards from his isolated vantage point, trying his best to absorb every observation in the hope that it might reveal some grand revelation. Enlightenment was not forthcoming though, and Star Swirl was on the verge of giving up altogether, resigning himself to the idea that this was one problem he would never solve.
He began to turn away slowly, but before he could do so his eyes suddenly spotted a familiar shape. With a gasp, Star Swirl turned back towards the ground as he saw Clover, accompanied by a boisterous earth pony and a shy looking pegasus, stepping out from what looked like a cider tavern. They were all carrying tankards of fresh cider, and the earth pony looked like she was holding at least three of them.
As they moved towards an unoccupied table outside, Star Swirl racked his brains for any detail he could find on Clover’s associates. The earth pony was wearing a rather formal set of clothes that seemed at odds with her rather informal nature, and the pegasus was dressed in what looked like military garb, though not a complete set of armour.
The names came to Star Swirl in an instant — he’d heard them earlier this evening. The earth pony was evidently Smart Cookie, though from what Clover had mentioned she seemed to be in a more relaxed mood tonight than usual. That would mean that the pegasus was indeed ‘Private’ Pansy — Star Swirl wasn’t sure if she still held her title after the joining of the three tribes.
It suddenly occurred to Star Swirl that the three ponies he was looking at had formed the main group of advisors for the ruling ponies of Equestria. In the few times that Star Swirl had had to deal with nobility directly, he’d always found them to be aloof and egotistical — the products of a system that had ponies climbing over each over for royal approval. And yet down below, the ponies beneath him were laughing and smiling together, clearly enjoying themselves even in the grounds of the relatively unremarkable tavern. In all his years Star Swirl had never encountered any collection of nobles who would venture among the so-called common ponies, and certainly none who would do so as friends.
Friends, he thought, looking back down and sighing gently. He’d avoided using the word until he could be sure that it was an accurate description, but as he saw the ponies below it was clear that friends was the right word, even to a unicorn as inexperienced in the subject as Star Swirl.
As he continued to watch, he found himself taking notice of the differences between each pony in the group. Smart Cookie was talking to both of her companions, and even though Star Swirl couldn’t hear what she was saying, her gestures were large enough that he could see her excitement. Pansy was looking a little more restrained, but Star Swirl could still see that she was glad to be there, and he expected Clover to share that attitude.
As he glanced over at his student though, he couldn’t help but get the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t explain exactly what was wrong, and neither Smart Cookie nor Pansy seemed to have noticed, but Star Swirl could see the slight hesitation that Clover was showing every time her friends made a remark. She was still wearing a smile on her face, and even Star Swirl could tell that she clearly wanted to be with her friends, but the way she kept looking over her shoulder it was almost as if she was terrified that at any moment she’d be found out and dragged away by a town guard, or her parents…
…or her teacher.
The realisation was enough to bring up another surge of feelings for Star Swirl, and this time he was able to recognise exactly what they were. He hadn’t realised how close Clover was to her friends before, and the idea that he was responsible for her regretting that closeness was one that left an incredible amount of guilt on his shoulders. He might have felt better if Clover had completely ignored what he’d said earlier, but from the expression on her face she was clearly anxious about what she was doing, and what he would think of her if he found out about it. Even after what he’d said to her earlier, she still was trying to earn his approval, and Star Swirl suddenly realised at that moment just how badly he’d failed his student.
He moved backwards from the cliff edge, and with a heavy heart began to head back towards the house, unable to look at the scene anymore. The lack of progress with his latest spell seemed trivial now — a small thing in the myriad of small things preventing him from seeing the bigger picture. Now all he could think about was what he was supposed to do to fix everything he’d so carelessly ruined.
Walking up the front steps to his house, Star Swirl automatically made to open the front door with his magic before remembering his current condition. Looking back at the sun, he made a quick estimate of how long he’d spent outdoors, and as he wordlessly completed the calculations, he realised just how much time he’d spent lost in his thoughts.
Slowly, Star Swirl raised his hoof up to his horn, and noticed just how devoid of warmth it was. All trace of magical energy — the buzz of magic, as he’d once described it to Clover — had faded, and he could find no sign that it was coming back. The strangest thing was that the revelation didn’t seem to surprise Star Swirl in the slightest — it was simply another example of him failing to notice what should have been obvious.
He sighed, and then bent down to pull the door open with his mouth. Stepping into the house, he couldn’t help glancing back one more time to look at the sunset before slowly closing the door behind him.
It was now deep into the evening, and Star Swirl’s house had fallen both dark and silent, with only the pale glow of the moon providing any form of illumination. The shadows on the floor darkened slightly as stray clouds moved across the sky outside, but from within there was no sign of movement.
As the errant clouds slowly drifted away, the emerging moonbeams began to light up the main hallway, starting by the rear window before eventually making their way towards the main entrance. As they fell over the front door, there was a sudden vibration, and the door handle shimmered with the recognisable aura of unicorn magic.
The door creaked open, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Clover stepped into the house. Closing her eyes, she began casting a low level light spell, just strong enough to light her way without leaving her exhausted after her long evening out. As the hall slowly lit up, her eyes moved to the door of Star Swirl’s study.
Sighed inwardly, she walked towards the door, knowing all too well that Star Swirl would probably still be in there working on his latest spell. Living with her teacher for so long had meant that she’d become aware of just how involved he could get with his work, and recently Clover had begun making a point of reminding him when it was time to get some rest, even if only by knocking on the study door. Not that had made much difference to his behaviour — the usual response from Star Swirl was an angry murmur from behind the door, and Clover would often wake up the next morning to find him still at work, apparently having stayed up all night studying. Clover wasn’t quite sure how often he was sleeping now, but judging by his worsening attitude she was sure that it wasn’t nearly enough.
Clover could remember a time when Star Swirl hadn’t been so reclusive. When she’d first become his student, he’d been eager to teach her all he knew about the wonders of magic, and Clover had been enthralled by everything he’d taught her. It was only when she was invited to become Princess Platinum’s advisor that things had begun to change.
With her commitments to the Princess, Clover hadn’t been able to attend her lessons as frequently, and although Star Swirl hadn’t done anything to stop her from meeting the Princess she could tell he disapproved of Clover working so closely with her. That in itself wasn’t surprising to Clover — Star Swirl’s lack of respect for authority, royal or otherwise, was well known by that point. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if there was something more to it than that, although she’d never even attempted to ask what it might have been.
Star Swirl, for his part, had started using his newly acquired free time to research new spells. All of a sudden, he was retreating into his study at every opportunity, and Clover was seeing less and less of him every day. By the time of the Windigo incident the only time Clover could speak to Star Swirl was on the rare occasions he’d let her into his study, and even then it was clear he didn’t really want to talk to her — not when there was work to be done on his latest masterpiece.
Clover had considered leaving several times — with Star Swirl so caught up in his research the thought of teaching had been the last thing on his mind, and her own duties with the Ruling Council had left Clover wondering if both she and Star Swirl would be better off alone to pursue their own paths in life. In the end though, she’d stayed with her teacher — he’d been a part of her life for so long that it felt wrong to simply leave him on his own. In truth, Clover wasn’t sure he’d be able to tear himself away from his books without her prying him away.
She made her way up to the door silently, and after a moment's preparation raised her hoof and gently knocked. “Star Swirl?”
There was no reply from behind the door, which surprised Clover ever so slightly — even on his worst days Star Swirl would at least acknowledge her presence. Still, she continued speaking even as the silence fell around her.
“It’s past nightfall,” she began. “I’m about to head off to bed.”
Star Swirl still didn’t respond, and all of a sudden Clover felt a twinge of nervousness. She knocked on the door again, this time more forcefully. “Star Swirl?”
Her knocking with met with continued silence, and Clover eyes widened in fear. She quickly looked to the door handle, and within seconds had finished casting a hurried unlocking spell.
The door drifted open with a loud creak, and as Clover stared inside she gasped in shock. Not because of what she could see — the room barely looked any different from when she’d come in a few hours ago. What was shocking, however, was the fact that Star Swirl had seemingly disappeared into thin air.
Clover stepped backwards, stunned into silence. Star Swirl never left his study — or at least not without being prompted — and that alone was enough to tell her that something was drastically wrong.
As she frantically looked back towards the front door, Clover tried to work out where Star Swirl could have gone. She wasn't able to come up with an answer, but her uncertainty didn’t stop her from bounding back towards the entrance, and she was on the verge of leaping back out into the night when the smallest of coughs broke the silence.
Clover froze, and her ears pricked upwards listening for any further noise. For the longest time she heard nothing besides the occasional whistle of wind, but after a few moments she heard another cough echo throughout the hallway, drifting down from the floor above.
Clover needed no further prompting as she turned back inside, heading straight towards the main staircase. She made her way up the first set of stairs without a moment's thought, her mind focused solely on finding her teacher. It was only when she neared the top that she began to hesitate, suddenly unsure of whether what she'd heard was something that she really wanted to discover.
As she reached the top, another cough rang out, this time much louder. Clover’s head turned instantly towards the source, and as she regained her focus she found herself facing the entrance to Star Swirl’s bedroom. The door rested in the doorframe and blocked Clover’s view into the room, but it remained open ever so slightly, just enough to show that a lamp was burning inside.
Anxiously, Clover approached the doorway, now more confused than ever. She couldn’t remember Star Swirl ever doing anything like this before, and yet she also couldn’t think of anypony else who could possibly be in the room. She was almost shaking with worry by the time she reached the door, unsure if she could bring herself to look beyond it. Eventually, though, she found the will somewhere inside her to carefully push it open.
The lamplight fell over her face and Clover closed her eyes, blinded momentarily by the sudden change in illumination. She opened them again slowly, trying to focus on her surroundings, and immediately she was drawn to the large bed in front of her. It took her a few moments to realise that it was occupied, but as the pony revealed itself with another loud cough Clover gasped in shock.
“Star Swirl!”
She rushed over to the bedside, trying to process exactly what she was seeing. Star Swirl was looking terrible, his already dull coat fading into a sickly shade of grey, and he was lying on the bed with so little energy that he was barely able to keep his eyes open. It was as the spark of life had vanished — left his body and flew away into the night.
Shakily, Clover placed her hoof on his forehead, trying to remember everything she’d ever learnt about magical medical care. As she came into contact with his horn, she shuddered, partly because of the icy coldness she felt crawl up her foreleg as she touched it but mostly because of the terrified chill she felt from within.
“Star Swirl…” she murmured, not quite believing what she was seeing. “If I’d have known this would happen… I wouldn’t have—”
Star Swirl coughed again, and ever so slowly turned his head to face Clover. As he saw her, a contented expression gradually made its way onto his face.
“I’ll go and get help,” continued Clover, her attempt at resolve undermined by the quiver in her voice. “I can head back into Canterlot and fetch Cure All — there must be something she can do…”
Star Swirl groaned wearily. “Clo—”
“…she won’t be open at this time of course, but I’m sure she’ll come once I tell her it’s an emergency. She probably does it all the time…”
“Clo—”
“…of course she does, I’ve seen her with the other ponies in town. I can bring her back here and she’ll have you back to normal in no time—”
“Clover…”
The sound of her name finally brought Clover to a halt, and she looked back at Star Swirl apprehensively. She could only remember one time where he had addressed her by name before, and that was when he had agreed to become her teacher. The fact that he was using it now suggested that whatever Star Swirl was about to say, it was to be something immensely important.
“There won’t be any need for a doctor,” he whispered weakly. “There’s nothing they could do for me anyway—”
“Don’t say that!” said Clover, her tone one of stunned disbelief. “Once we find out what’s wrong I’m sure we’ll be able to—”
“Clover,” said Star Swirl pointedly. “You know exactly what’s wrong.”
Clover made to reply, but the words got lost on the way to her mouth as she realised the implications of what her teacher had said. She stared back at him with a look of terror, not wanting to believe him even though she knew it to be true.
“Y-You don’t know that,” she finally replied in a shaky voice. “There must be something we can do.”
“You know what it means when a unicorn horn loses its magic,” said Star Swirl, raspily. “I was the pony who taught it to you—”
“Maybe it’s not lost,” interrupted Clover, her voice wavering. “Maybe we can bring it back somehow. I mean, unicorns don’t just lose all their magic in one night, do they?”
She looked back at Star Swirl for reassurance, but as he failed to meet her gaze she gasped in horror. “No…”
“It’s my own fault, really,” said Star Swirl, his tone oddly measured. “A stallion at my age, using all that magic—”
“Stop it,” said Clover. “Stop talking like you’re… because you’re not…”
She sniffed, unable to finish her sentence, and Star Swirl slowly placed his hoof on hers. She looked back at him, tears falling down her nose, and he sighed heavily.
“I am, Clover,” he said in a resigned tone, gazing around the room absentmindedly. “Not that I want to, of course, but it appears that I have very little choice in the matter.”
He felt Clover’s hoof tense beneath his, and as he looked back at her, a small smile crossed his lips.
“Don’t be upset, Clover,” he began, speaking as calmly as if he were teaching one of his lessons. “I’ve lived longer than most, and I’m sure a few ponies will remember me for something other than my facial hair—”
Clover almost laughed out loud, but it quickly turned into a sniffly sounding cough. She turned away feeling embarrassed, all the while blinking furiously to try and stop her eyes from watering.
“B-but you can’t…” she whispered, as if she could somehow talk him out of what was going to happen. “W-what about your studies? Your research? Y-you never got to finish your masterpiece…”
Star Swirl sighed. “I don’t think I was ever meant to, Clover.”
Clover looked up, stunned. “W-what do you mean?”
Star Swirl paused for a moment, and when he spoke he sounded more tired than Clover had ever heard him before. “I spent two years working on that spell, Clover. Two years in my study, working day and night and trying everything I knew, and even then it still didn’t work.” A grim smile briefly crossed his face. “I couldn’t even get it to rhyme…”
“T-that doesn’t mean anything,” said Clover, still blinking back tears. “Y-you always told me that… that you could solve any problem if you put your mind to it.”
“Of course,” replied Star Swirl, with the tiniest nod of his head. “But I should have realised long ago that the answer was never going to be found in that room, Clover. Whatever that spell needed, it was something that I was never going to discover by locking myself away like that.”
He tilted his head towards the window, and when he spoke again it was with a painful tone of regret. “There are so many more things in the world worth knowing than just the ones that have been written down, Clover. So many things I’ve ignored, so many things I’ve missed out on…”
He fell silent, staring out of the window with a mournful look in his eyes. A moment later though, he felt a hoof press down gently on his own, and turning back he saw Clover holding on as tightly as she could. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he could feel each of her hooves trembling with fear, but she was still here beside him, and that was all that was needed for a smile to form on Star Swirl’s face.
“I’m sorry I was such a fool, Clover.”
Clover closed her eyes and sighed. “You don’t need to—”
“Yes I do,” said Star Swirl, forcefully. “I need to apologise, because I need you to know that I was wrong.”
Clover opened her eyes, looking puzzled, and on seeing her expression Star Swirl quickly continued. “I was wrong about the Advisory Council. I was wrong about your friends, and I was wrong about you.”
“No you weren’t,” said Clover, almost automatically. “Everything you said was true. The Ruling Council will still have ultimate power in Equestria, and none of us have ever done anything worthy of being recognised apart from one accidental spell that we couldn’t even explain. It was silly of me to think otherwise.”
“Clover,” began Star Swirl sternly. “Is that what you really believe?”
Clover didn’t reply, but the silence told Star Swirl exactly what she was thinking. With a burst of effort, he rolled himself over onto his side, and slowly placed his hoof on top of Clover’s. She looked up as she felt it, her eyes tearing up again, and Star Swirl took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say.
“I saw you this evening with your friends,” he began, his voice rising slightly in his desire to be heard. “I don’t know that much about how to be a good friend, Clover, but that doesn't mean I can’t recognise it when I see it. You and your friends are going to change Equestria forever, I’m sure of it.”
“But what you said before—”
“I was wrong, Clover,” repeated Star Swirl, more anxiously than ever. “And I need you to know that I was wrong, because I don’t think you believe that yet.”
Clover blinked. “Star Swirl, I don’t—”
“You were scared of me, Clover,” interrupted Star Swirl, now sounding slightly desperate. “When I saw you in town you were scared, because you thought I wouldn’t like what you were doing, and because you believed that I was right to think that. I don’t want you to be afraid of living your own life because you think I wouldn’t approve.”
As he finished speaking, he felt Clover’s hooves shuffle nervously around his own, and as looked into her eyes he saw just how anxious she looked. For a while she hesitated, occasionally opening her mouth to say something but seemingly losing her nerve at the last second.
“Star Swirl…” she eventually replied, with a tone of both fear and embarrassment. “Star Swirl, I can’t do this without you.”
“Clover—”
“I can’t,” continued Clover, hopelessly. “Everypony thinks of me as Clover the Clever, but all the spells I know, all the advice I gave — it all came from you, Star Swirl. Without you I’m just… just a regular old unicorn.”
“Clover Grian Shamrock…” said Star Swirl, with an incredible amount of determination considering his condition. “…you are anything but a regular old unicorn. You are the most intelligent, talented, remarkable pony I’ve ever known.”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” repeated Star Swirl firmly. “You managed to cast a defensive spell with an earth pony and a pegasus that would usually require at least ten unicorns. You helped bring the three different pony tribes into one unified nation, and you’ve made more friends in six months than I have in a lifetime. Don’t ever let anypony ever make you think that you’re not important. Certainly not an old fool like me.”
“Star Swirl…” Clover’s eyes watered again, but this time it wasn’t sadness that was causing the tears to flow. “Star Swirl, I…”
She looked back at her teacher, now smiling sincerely, and slowly she found herself smiling as well. “…thank you. Thank you for everything.”
Star Swirl merely nodded in reply, closing his eyes gently and letting out the briefest sigh of relief. Clover watched as he appeared to sink into his bed, and for the shortest of moments it was as if she was looking at a pony who was simply looking forward to a good night’s sleep and a happy tomorrow. A second later though, the feeling was gone, and the grim reality of what was about to happen resurfaced in Clover’s heart.
“You’re not a fool, Star Swirl,” she said, before she could even work out why she'd said it. “Please don’t think that you’re a fool.”
“I am a fool, Clover,” said Star Swirl, and there was no sense of regret this time, merely one of resigned acceptance. “I just happen to be a very well educated one, that's all.”
He coughed loudly again, and Clover bolted upwards. “Star Swirl?!”
“It’s OK,” he said, before coughing again. “Not quite time for me yet.”
He turned back to look at Clover, still gripping his hoof tightly. “Clover, I need you to promise me something.”
Clover was nodding frantically before Star Swirl had even finished asking, and Star Swirl took a deep breath before continuing. “Promise me you’ll go to the Advisory Council, and that you’ll use every bit of knowledge you have to help Equestria. Promise me you’ll never let anypony try and convince you’re not as clever as you really are. And promise me…”
He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper. “…promise me you’ll keep your friends as close as you can, because they are the most important ponies you’ll ever meet in your life.”
“I will,” replied Clover in an instant, her tone emphatic. “Of course I will, Star Swirl. Always.”
She squeezed down on Star Swirl’s hoof again, with a grip so tight that he might have found it painful if it wasn’t his only relief from the inevitable. It was enough, however, for him to know that Clover intended to fulfil the promise she had just made, and he sank back down into the bed and closed his eyes, a blanket of relief washing over him even as the last of his strength faded away.
“Thank you, Clover,” he whispered, and Clover could tell that even those words were a struggle by now. “Thank you for always being my friend, even if I wasn’t always yours.”
He couldn’t see Clover’s face, but the smallest change of pressure on his hoof told him she had heard him. His sense of feeling was slowly fading away, but he continued to focus on that one small sensation, even though he felt so, so tired…
“You know,” he whispered, the tiniest smile appearing on his face. “I think I know how to fix that spell now.”
And with that, Star Swirl the Bearded sighed for the final time, before falling into the most comfortable sleep that a pony could imagine, his best friend Clover the Clever holding his hoof until it was over, before letting the tears fall as she mourned the loss of her oldest friend, a pony who despite all his flaws never gave up, never stopped trying, and always got things right in the end.