//------------------------------// // Chapter 19: The Endless Sky // Story: The Education of Clover the Clever // by Daedalus Aegle //------------------------------// Clover waited quietly while Ginny turned in place, taking in the surroundings. The librarian looked up at the endlessly moving starry sky above above, and the endless canopy below. “We seem to be standing on a giant tree branch,” she said. “Well spotted,” Clover said. “Ginny, meet Mister Leafy. Mister Leafy, meet Ginny.” “Hello,” the voice of the tree said. Ginny nodded in acknowledgment. Clover was flanked by Star Swirl the Sprite, bobbing up and down in mid-air, and by her own dark side, who was visually identical except for looking more bored. “I was hoping you could help us out with our situation here,” Clover said. “It’s… kind of hard to explain.” “At first it was like a dream,” Ginny said, gazing off into the distance. “The line between what’s real and what’s not was blurring, shifting. It was easy to forget, and accept what was right in front of me.” “I’m sorry,” Clover said quietly. Ginny shook her head. “Don’t be. So, how do we get back home?” “Well, about that,” Clover said. “The Professor seems to think that Chocolate Bunnies might hold the key. Professor?” Star Swirl the Sprite turned from Clover to Ginny, and back, and again. It made a warbling sound. “The scattering has to be undone. The gyre widens. Time is short! Clover must find Chocolate Bunnies.” They waited to see if more was forthcoming. There was silence. Clover cleared her throat. “So that’s what we’re working with so far.” “Chocolate Bunnies,” Ginny said thoughtfully. “Your friend who runs the Siblinghood of the Hoof.” “That’s right,” Clover said, looking up at the sky that glittered with lighted worlds. “She’s out there, somewhere. At the center of every star is a pony, trapped in its own little world. One of them has to be her. I tried looking for her earlier, but…” Clover thought back to the world of Gallopsky. “Well, let’s just say it didn’t go well and I felt it was time to call in the cavalry. So I was hoping you had some ideas.” “Friends are good,” Mister Leafy chimed in, with his deep, rumbling voice. “Oh sure,” said Clover’s dark side. “We’ll just friendship at our problems and that’ll make them all go away. Any minute now.” “Quiet you,” Clover muttered. “Also, do you have any idea how we can get rid of her? She’s kind of bumming me out.” Ginny shook her head. “I can’t interfere with the initiation, once it’s begun. She is your dark side, and it is your task to deal with her.” Clover winced. “Great.” “Oooh, you know sarcasm. How advanced!” “Shut up!” Clover glared at her dark side then turned back to Ginny. “She’s not even interesting. I thought my dark side was supposed to be glamorous and seductive, or frightening, or something.” “That is a common misconception,” Ginny said. She nodded towards the strange figure of Star Swirl the Sprite. “I understand your teacher has a great deal of experience in fighting dark sides. Have you asked him?” “Not really,” Clover admitted. “He’s… kind of even harder to communicate with than usual right now.” Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “Is he indeed?” “The way you said that sounded needlessly suspicious, Ginny.” “Knowing your teacher, Clover, I would be very suspicious if he suddenly appeared in a different form bearing cryptic instructions.” Clover rolled her eyes and turned to the sprite. “Professor? How do I get rid of my dark side?” “He’s not going to make any sense,” Clover’s dark side said. Star Swirl the Sprite made an urgent burbling noise, and shook back and forth like a dog in the rain. “You are yourself,” he said. “Your cares are your own. Your strength is your own. You must do what you must do. Find Chocolate Bunnies.” “Told you,” Clover’s dark side said. “Urgh!” Clover winced. “Okay, then let’s get back to the other matter! Does anypony have any idea how I can find Chocolate Bunnies?” “My knowledge of interdimensional mechanics is limited to Esoteric Library Science,” Ginny said. “Since the multiverse hasn’t simply fallen apart, that suggests it runs on a coherent internal logic. Perhaps understanding more about this place will help you navigate it.” Ginny nodded towards the central trunk of Mister Leafy. “Fortunately, we have a symbol of cosmic unity right here. Does this world tree know anything about how this multiverse is structured?” “All the worlds are connected,” Mister Leafy said. “Which is kind of odd, because they’re also all separate. I thought I saw her before. I should be able to see her somewhere. I know she’s here, but when I look for her, she vanishes. Like she’s hiding.” “Search the bonds,” Star Swirl the Sprite said. “Between and behind. Find Chocolate Bunnies, find the center!” “Technically everywhere is the center,” Clover said to Ginny. “Multiverses are strange like that.” “I understand that,” Ginny said. “Advanced library philosophy tells us that all libraries are one library. All libraries are connected, and every library is the center.” She ran her hoof on the branch in the curved form of a banana. “And like libraries… You say this place searches your thoughts and memories for material to work with?” Clover nodded. “And your friend Chocolate Bunnies, she is a student, correct?” “That’s right.” Ginny nodded, deep in thought. “The art of finding information is to understand the nature of the system, and to find the connections,” Ginny said. “Perhaps something connected to your shared student experiences could be a place to start looking?” “That’s… not a bad idea,” Clover said. “Mister Leafy, can you point me to the university ponies?” “Sure,” he said. The branch creaked and shook as its base moved around the tree in a way no plant should be able to do, and pointed at a patch of sky. “I think… that is where it’s strongest.” What Clover saw was a bright, dense cluster of stars, the brightest point in the visible sky, spinning around its axis. “That looks promising,” she saw. “The Professor and I will go there and continue the search. Ginny, are you alright to stay here with Mister Leafy, and my dark side?” “Very well,” Ginny said, while Clover’s dark side rolled her eyes. “Great. Come along, Professor.” The Sprite hovered into position beside her, and Clover galloped forward and leaped off the tree. In an instant the void swept all around her, and she was running among the stars. Each step carried her astronomic distances. This time she felt more comfortable with the sensation, and her eyes were drawn to the unique sights of the space between worlds. The infant multiverse was vast and peaceful, full of untapped magic that did not yet know what it would be. Great sheets of aurora danced all around her in colors that couldn’t exist on earth, and shooting stars blinked in and out of existence as the universe got the idea of them, and tried it out. The cluster of stars circled ahead of her, growing larger as she drew near. Before long she could see each one clearly. They drifted past her, spinning in orbit around each other, pushing and pulling like Appleian satellites, each a window to a different world. She looked into them as she went, and recognized the buildings of Cambridle university in many of them. “So many,” she muttered as they flew past. “What do you say professor? How do we find the right one?” “A black hole sits at the center of every galaxy,” Star Swirl replied. “The stars move around the object of the greatest mass.” Clover pondered that one. She nodded. “Alright. The center it is.” They proceeded gradually inwards, leaving the outer worlds behind them, until they reached the heart of the galaxy. A single world-bubble rested there, that was larger than the rest, and glowed faintly in with a pale blue light. It hung motionless while all the others moved in orbit around it. Looking inside, Clover could see the New Old Hall of Cambridle University, crowded with ponies. “Here goes nothing.” Clover dove in, and the world swallowed her up. She landed on wet cobblestones, accompanied by the sound of pouring rain. She adjusted the hood of her cloak, and immediately looked around. She had touched down right beneath the facade of the New Old Hall, and Star Swirl the Sprite was gone. The sky above was a dark gray. Thunder crashed in the distance, several seconds after each flash of light. “Well, it’s not a very nice day,” she said to herself, “but at least it looks like my Cambridle.” A few ponies galloped along the street to get out of the rain, checking to make sure their saddlebags were secure. Others clung together in pairs or threes, sheltering under the eaves of the university buildings, talking together in hushed tones while casting glances down the road. Many of them wore cloaks that concealed their faces and cutie marks, but given the weather Clover thought that was only sensible. The doors of the New Old Hall were open, and she trotted inside. The halls were full of ponies, and a great many heads turned as she came in, eyes narrowed, watching her suspiciously, judging her. Some found her intriguing, and she felt their eyes on her as she went by. Some found her uninteresting, shook their heads, and turned back to their fellows to continue speaking in hushed whispers. A few found her a threat, and turned and walked away hurriedly as she passed by. “Well, this might be Bunnies’ way of looking at Cambridle, I suppose,” Clover muttered to herself. “We’re at the university, check. There are lots of ponies around, check. Ponies that have heard all the rumors about Star Swirl the Bearded and therefore me, check. Ponies that seem nervous and uncertain, as if e.g. they were about to be besieged by a conquering army, check…” She passed through the crowded entrance hall and came into the auditorium where she had so recently sat for her exam. There too the room was full of ponies conversing, and as she looked at them from the top of the auditorium she felt like she could see a pattern in their movements. Some were confident, some were afraid. Some shifted between the two effortlessly. Some were aware of their surroundings and some were not. She saw plots being laid, networks of alliances being tied and cut. Here, a few words spoken meant doom for somepony across the room. She cleared her throat, and called out loudly. “Um, hello! I’m sorry to interrupt… whatever this is, but has anypony seen Chocolate Bunnies?” “What’s the meaning of this?” A mirthless voice said from the center of the room, and all the ponies parted to reveal the stern, sharp, and unquestionably real face of Dean Abacus Cinch. “You are disrupting our work, young pony! Who is – oh, if it isn’t Miss Cordelia.” Cinch took a step forward, and the large cluster of ponies that had surrounded her scattered like dancers. The Dean trotted swiftly up towards Clover. All the ponies were looking at Cinch, Clover saw. Wherever she stepped, everypony else moved around her, the literal center of attention, the centerpiece of all the nets and of every plot and scheme. Clover sighed. “Oh, this is your world. Obviously. I’m sorry, Dean Cinch, I was looking for somepony else. I’ll just be going then.” “Wait.” The Dean’s hoof shot out and took hold of Clover’s shoulder. Clover glanced at the dean, and saw a smile she could only describe as ‘predatory’. “A word, miss Cordelia.” Clover gulped, and fought back the urge to pull away. “Yes, Dean Cinch?” “I understand you’ve spent this past year studying with Honorary Professor the Bearded,” Cinch said, her voice faux-casual. “Tell me, how is the old stallion?” “He’s…” Clover thought for a second before deciding to go with the simplest answer. “He’s doing fine, Dean Cinch.” “Good, good!” The feigned joviality scraped Clover’s nerves raw. “Well, miss Cordelia, you will be beginning your second year in the fall. Have you given any thoughts to your situation?” “My situation, Dean Cinch?” “I will be blunt, miss Cordelia,” Cinch said, her voice dropping a register. “I would like you to come back to the university. You will be enrolling in your second year, and I think you could benefit from the environment on campus. You are needed here, miss Cordelia, and I won’t make the same mistake a second time!” Clover blinked. “Mistake, Dean Cinch?” “Quite,” Dean Cinch glowered. “I should never have agreed to let that pony take you away.” “You mean professor Star Swirl?” “Listen to me, miss Cordelia. This university needs you.” Dean Cinch led her down a corridor and up a flight of stairs while ponies watched them from all around. “After Honorary Professor the Bearded’s annual lecture at the start of the school year, he came to me and asked to be allowed to tutor you on his terms. I agreed, more fool me, because I hoped a taste of actual responsibility would help to restrain him, and get him off the university’s back. Instead I only lost one of the year’s most promising freshmares.” Clover’s mouth fell open. “Wait – those rumours were true?!” “Don’t be naive, miss Cordelia,” Dean Cinch said. “Rumours are always true. But no matter now – we must deal with the situation that is in front of us.” Clover found herself being ushered through the administrative wing of the New Old Hall, and she could see the envy on the faces of the ponies they went past, student and faculty alike. “I reread your application papers recently,” Cinch continued. “Your personal essay, your grades, your extra-curriculars… You are a cut above the ordinary student, miss Cordelia. You are a legacy. Your family name can open doors – how is your father by the way? - and your courtly etiquette training will serve you as well here at the Academy as in court. You are exactly what this university needs, and if I had any doubts before, well, then the fact that you are still standing after almost a year with Honorary Professor the Bearded has laid them to rest.” Clover somehow found herself in the Dean’s office, the two of them alone behind closed doors, Clover sitting in front of the Dean’s desk, while Cinch took up her seat behind it. “I want to make a personal offer to you,” the Dean said, her voice soothing but hungry. “Stay with me, and you can have everything you want, and I will train you as my successor. You will have all the resources of the university at your disposal. You would be free to pursue any research you please. You could be the next Dean of the Academy!” Clover kept her face blank while she pondered how to respond. “Um. Gosh. Well, Dean Cinch. That’s… quite the offer. I honestly wasn’t expecting that. But the truth is I rather enjoy studying under the Professor.” Emotion moved across Cinch’s face in a flash, and was gone. She shifted her stance in her seat. “Don’t you regret everything you’re missing?” she asked. She brought up a stack of papers from a desk drawer. “Your references all stressed that you are an exceptionally kind and sociable pony, miss Cordelia. Always attentive, always eager to please. But for the past year you’ve been locked up there all alone in a house on the edge of town, with only the company of one old stallion. While your fellow students have made friends, partners, coworkers, you’ve been doing… what?” Dean Cinch shook her head. “There is more to student life than just reading, miss Cordelia. You will never be so free in your life as you are now, to explore, to learn who you are. The relationships you make here will stay with you for the rest of your life. And you’ve given it all up to serve as the indentured servant of a demanding old madpony. Don’t you miss the ponies? The life?” Dean Cinch placed her hooves on the table. “I’m giving you another chance, miss Cordelia. Come back to us, and you can have everything.” Clover hesitated. She sighed. “I do miss the ponies. And you’re right, the past year has been… difficult. And yes, sometimes it’s been very lonely. And honestly, I would be open to hearing you out some other time. But the thing is, Dean Cinch, this universe is only a figment of your imagination. And I’d really like to get us out of here quickly, since I can’t be sure that being here won’t irreparably damage your mind.” “Oh, piffle,” Cinch rolled her eyes. “You sound like my ex-husband. I know how the world works, young miss Cordelia, and this world works exactly the way it should. A nice, orderly world of ponies laying plans and working hard to excel. What could be better?” “Dean Cinch, I’m serious. We are in the middle of a magical crisis right now.” “Magical crises come and go,” Dean Cinch said flatly. “Ponies come and go as well. Whatever you are referring to doesn’t change this: I am myself, and you are yourself, and I am offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity. What will ponies say about you after you are gone, miss Cordelia? Will they remember your kindness? Will they remember that your quill-writing was stellar? No. They will remember if you built something lasting. That is what matters, miss Cordelia. The lives of ponies are brief, and fleeting, but what comes after it will last for eternity. Join me!” Dean Cinch extended a hoof. “This is the greatest university of magic in the lands of ponies. Together we can rule this school, and build a reputation that will last for a thousand years.” There was silence between them for a moment, interrupted only by the sound of Clover’s heart beating in her ears. “Oh, Dean…” Clover shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry.” Dean Cinch raised a very judgmental eyebrow. “Whatever for?” “For you. I feel sorry for you. And for what it’s worth…” Clover met Cinch’s eyes, and showed no cunning or deception. “Thanks. For sending me to Star Swirl. You gave me the chance to learn. That’s what good teachers do. So thank you for that.” Cinch stared at Clover. And then her eyes began, ever so slightly, to wobble. “No student,” Cinch said quietly, “has ever thanked me before.” “It’s okay,” Clover said, as she got up from her chair. “Have a nice day, Dean Cinch. You have a lot to be proud of.” Cinch nodded silently, and turned her chair to the side, and sat, staring at nothing. Clover left the office, and closed the door quietly behind her, and heard the sound of the universe opening up above her head. She looked up and saw endless stars. She smiled to herself. “I’m coming to find you, Chocolate Bunnies. Let’s see what’s next.” – – – Back in the endless sky between worlds Clover looked again at the cluster of star-world bubbles, still moving in their orderly dance. Star Swirl the Sprite looked up beside her. “I don’t know why you don’t go inside them with me,” Clover remarked, then thought again. “Well, I can sort of understand why you wouldn’t want to go inside that one. But you didn’t know what was in it.” She sighed. “Chocolate Bunnies wasn’t there. It was… very informative, in various ways. But there was no sign of Bunnies.” She looked out at the endless blanket of stars moving in orbit around Dean Cinch. “It would take forever to search them all.” “Interdimensional mechanics meets primordial psychosensitive cosmic potential, acting upon a population of distinct but overlapping experience matrices,” Star Swirl the Sprite said. “A multiplicity of interacting instances, sharing sets of rules in common, but imperfectly.” He then spoke words in a language Clover did not know, but which sounded very frustrated, before returning to Equish. “You are not a fisherpony. Chocolate Bunnies is not a fish.” “Yes, professor,” Clover said. She looked at the other bubbles as they went past, but they all showed very similar scenes: the buildings of Cambridle University, ponies she did not know speaking, reading, or working. “I think this must be all the faculty, and regular students… All the ponies in Dean Cinch’s orbit, following the same rules she’s taught them. Bunnies… doesn’t really fit in here.” She bit her lip. “Ginny was right that these worlds are all connected. But Chocolate Bunnies isn’t a student anymore, not really. She fell out of her studies in order to…” Clover’s eyes widened. “In order to lead the Siblinghood, with the Discordians. That’s it! I need to find a connection to her. And the only ponies who were close to her…” She thought back to her encounter with Gallopsky and clenched her teeth. “…Are the ponies who don’t follow the rules at all anymore.” She turned to the Sprite. “Professor, we need to find worlds that don’t follow the rules." Star Swirl the Sprite vocalized in concordance, and began to spin in place. After a few moments he froze, pointing in a particular direction. “Clover. Look.” Clover looked. There was one bubble in the distance unlike any of the others. Its surface, unlike the smooth open portals of the others, seemed to radiate jagged light. It was moving against the current, faster than all the others, speeding up and slowing down and changing its alignment seemingly at random. “That is not in accordance with Appleian physics,” Clover said. Star Swirl whistled briefly. Clover nodded. Clover dug her hooves into what felt like a solid surface, even though she knew it was nothing, and prepared to leap off. “I’m going in.” Clover shot off towards the portal, and its world took form around her. – – – She found herself looking up at the sky. It was beautiful. The sky could often be pretty, but never before had Clover seen a sky that was simply unspeakably, stunningly beautiful, so beautiful that she felt her eyes grow misty just from watching it. There were the colors, of course. Clover found it hard to wrap her language around it: it was, well, blue. But also not. Whichever part she focused on was blue, but everything around it was like a rainbow turned inside-out and merged with lightning. And all of it cast its shadow and its reflection on the clouds, doubling the sky. And the clouds… Of course Clover knew that clouds move. But never in her life had she seen clouds dance. They raced, they spun, they moved in circles and they mingled with each other, a wisp tracing a cursive O between two neighbors. All of it in constant turmoil, never the same from one second to the next, and as the sun moved across the heavens, their shadows cast a puppet play on the walls of Cambridle. She was torn from her reverie when a pony behind her shoved her hard to the side, tripping her face-first into the dusty street. She heard a voice from above. “Oh fer – what is wrong with ponies?” Clover looked up to find the artist standing on the roof of the opposite building, looking down at her. She recognized the pegasus immediately: the spiky hair, the dismissive glare, the cutie mark of two knives and the matching earrings, all belonging to the pony who had sent her falling from the clock tower. The pegasus, Clover thought, did not look happy to see her. “You’re one of the Discordians,” Clover said. The pegasus snorted. “What’s it to you?” Focus, Clover. No distractions. I’m on a mission here. Clover clenched her jaw and stood up straight. “Cutting Edge, wasn’t it? Do you know where I can find Chocolate Bunnies?” Cutting Edge sniffed. “Try the candy store,” she said. “Wait, really? Wow, thanks, where is… Oh. Oh, ha ha. Very funny.” Cutting Edge shrugged. “Yeah, that was lazy as horse apples. But you put it up there on a Celestia-damned pedestal. It would be a crime not to knock it down.” “My dark side would probably love you,” Clover muttered. “Look – you know Chocolate Bunnies. She was your leader, right up until you betrayed her. You must know where I can find her.” Cutting Edge rolled her eyes. “Honestly,” she muttered, and pointed at the wall. “Look there. What do you see?” Clover’s eyes narrowed. “If I play along will you tell me where she is?” Cutting Edge’s face contorted in an angry snarl. “Just look at it!” Clover looked, and saw a dazzling image of light and shadows cast on the plain brick surface. Her mouth fell open. “Is that… is that the Pony Lisa in shadow play?” “Yes!” Cutting Edge shouted. “Do you know how much effort that takes? Do you think clouds just move into that position on their own? Do you realize how much work it takes to control not just the wind currents, but the temperature, the vapor levels, the refractive index, even for just a moment? And do you ponies even notice? No. What do you do? You ask me for directions. Because you’re too busy going somewhere else.” She rose into the air with a flap of her wings, glaring down at Clover. “The world around you is full of both amazing beauty and hideous ugliness! But you’re too obsessed with your petty personal problems to even notice!” Her anger softened into a wicked smile. “Well, you’re in luck,” she said, cracking her ankles. “You know why? Because you met me. And I’m going to make you see the world a whole new way.” – – – This was not how today was going to go, Clover thought to herself as she ran from the switchblade-wielding pegasus that chased her down the streets of Cambridle. “Pick up the pace, maggot!” Cutting Edge yelled from overhead. “This architecture won’t admire itself!” Cutting Edge had driven her clear across the city. She had done pushups while listening to beat poetry. She had dodged thrown fruit while being lectured about the Pre-Tankites, and had compared and contrasted the Pony Lisa and the Whinny while jumping rope until she tripped. Now she was being forced to run across the city while Cutting Edge yelled at her about city planning. The reason for all this, Cutting Edge had said, was because pain sharpens the senses. Something flickered in Clover’s peripheral vision. Something that glowed with unusual light, as if the sun were setting in midday, a few blocks over. She craned her neck to get a better look as she galloped, and her eyes widened. Through the trees on the far side of the street crossing her path, out on the edge of the city, almost burning with concentrated magic, there stood a barn. “I hope you remembered to bring your toothbrush,” Cutting Edge said ominously from above. “Because once we’re done running you’re going to brush the monument to the Great Fire of 299 until it looks like real fire!” Clover grit her teeth, and counted down the moments before she reached the next alley. Then, without warning, she turned off the street and ducked between two buildings, galloping towards the glowing light. She heard Cutting Edge yelling at her from behind. “Hey! Hey, where do you think you’re—GET AWAY FROM THERE!” Clover did not stop, though her heart was pounding and sweat pouring down her mane, her lungs aching as she crossed the city limits. Cutting Edge was behind her, wings flapping frantically as the pegasus raced to intercept her, furiously shouting, “GET BACK FROM THAT! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED INSIDE MY—” Clover felt her hooves land on the soft grass in front of the barn, and suddenly the world around her shifted. “This isn’t a bad city, honeybee,” her father said. “We’ve built a good home here.” “They call me names,” the filly said, kicking at the dirt. She ruffled her wings, her feathers dirty and uneven from bad preening. “They’re all pointyheads here. And even the earth pony foals don’t like me.” “Maybe if you stopped fighting them all the time?” Cutting Edge looked up at the sky, and back at the farmhouse on the edge of Cambridle, with its wide open fields of veggies and grains, grown for a city of unicorns couldn’t or wouldn’t grow themselves. They’d moved there after they lost her mother. In her dreams, she still saw her mother’s face, heard her voice, felt the softness of her touch as she was swept up into a hug. “I miss Cloudsdale. I miss living in the sky. This place is ugly.” “Well, maybe you can help make it beautiful.” “Huh!” She kicked at the ground. “Nothing can make this place beautiful.” His hoof patted her withers. “There’s nothing in the world except what you make of it,” he said. “Maybe you can’t change everything… But you can always change how you see it.” She kept looking at the city after her father went indoors, thinking about that. Picking fights in cheap pubs and taverns at night. Dressing all in black and creating elaborate street art in the dark. But always you go home at the end of the night. Discover chemistry, and realize it’s amazing how little it takes to make something burn. Make a game out of it: make cookies that explode on the frog of your hoof. Give them to ponies, and watch them learn to see the world differently. One day, a lone earth pony shows up, and there’s something in his eyes. “This is my dad’s barn. It’s pretty shabby. But you can hang out if you want.” You talk, and ponies come to listen. You spent your foalhood alone. You learned to stand up for yourself, to hit back when somepony hits you. But somehow you meet ponies, and you don’t know what to think about that. You pick fights with them, but they don’t go away. You see their weak points and you poke them relentlessly, but they don’t leave. Somehow they understand you, even though they clearly don’t. And somehow you get used to them. And you’re no longer alone. You talk about Discord, which is the only thing that tolerates you. At night you hang out together and talk, and lay plans, and go out on the city and you try to change how ponies see the world around them. And slowly, ever so slowly, the barn becomes beautiful. A hush falls, and a cold wind cuts through the warmth of the company. There’s a creak. The door opens, and you turn, and you see your friend. “Chocolate Bunnies?” Clover looked at the frozen figure, suspended in ghostly glowing light, at the entrance of the barn. Cutting Edge hovered in place, her unseeing eyes filled with the same light. “She wanted to join us,” the pegasus said, her voice hollow and listless. “She was my friend. We were roommates back in art school. Discord would like her. But…” Cutting Edge winced in her trance, pain filling her voice. “…But something went wrong.” “You were her friend?” Clover narrowed her eyes. “You had a strange way of showing it.” “I was opening her eyes!” Cutting Edge snapped. “She was falling into a trap! I was going to set her free!” “You almost knocked her off the clock tower!” “Change never comes without pain,” Cutting Edge spoke, and her voice was simultaneously low and calm, and a wordless scream that cut Clover like a knife. “She was too comfortable. She couldn’t see the hole opening up under her. I tried to help her! I would never hurt her! Everything went wrong and I couldn’t stop it!” Clover took a step back, and took in the sight all around her. The four conspirators sat around the barn, Cutting Edge, and Gallopsky, and the third one, and their faces were alive with emotion, playing out the moment when the Siblinghood of the Hoof was born. They were frozen in a tableau for her perusal, like a work of art. And on the other side, by the door, was the ghost of Chocolate Bunnies, come to turn Cambridle upside down. “She wanted our help,” Cutting Edge’s face contorted, struggling with emotions, notions and concepts that did not come naturally to her. “I was helping her. Discord helps everypony. But you don’t ask Discord for help unless you’re prepared to receive the help that Discord gives you.” Clover looked at the figure of Chocolate Bunnies again, trying to find some clue. There was her friend, looking as she always did, perky and cheerful and impervious to seemingly anything. But all around her something was spreading. Something that warped the light and made the ground she walked on look strange and sickly, and if Clover looked at it too long she began to feel ill. “There was something wrong with her,” Cutting Edge said. “I couldn’t see it then. But Discord knew, and I knew I had to stop it.” Clover nodded slowly. “There is something wrong,” she said. “I don’t know what. But I think Bunnies might be in trouble. You really want to help her?” Cutting Edge nodded sharply, just once. “Then help me find her,” Clover said. “You were her friend. You’re connected somehow. Do you have any idea where she is?” Cutting Edge looked uncertain, almost afraid. She gingerly reached out a hoof, and Clover reached out to take it. Then everything froze. “You don’t belong here,” Cutting Edge said, but it was not her voice that was speaking. “Get out.” Clover felt herself launched backwards like a stone from a catapult. Before her eyes the world shrank to a pinprick and was gone. – – – Clover floated, or fell, or moved in some other fashion in a universe that doesn’t obey the laws of physics even conditionally, until she slammed into a hard flat mass that felt like ground. “Darnit,” Clover muttered to herself, not bothering to move. “I thought for sure I was getting somewhere that time.” At length, Clover forced herself up and looked around at a land shrouded in mist. The ground beneath her was flat, and plain. She could see the outline of great things in the distance, but the way there was hidden, and all the details were obscured from her. “Oh… Mare of misery, whose land have I lit on now?” Clover recited the lines from the Coltyssey to herself. “What are they here? Violent, savage, lawless? Or friendly to strangers, Princess-fearing ponies?” “Well,” said a mare’s voice, “This is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.” Clover turned to what she thought was the direction of the voice. What she saw emerge from the mist was a shimmering, transparent outline of a pony. An old mare, in robes and a pointy hat. “I should have known I would find you at the center of this,” said Swirly Star the Wise. Clover grimaced. “Hello, Professor Swirly Star.” Swirly Star trotted forward. “You sound disappointed. Were you expecting somepony else?” Clover rolled her eyes, and then looked at and through the form of her former substitute mentor. “What happened to you? You’re a shadow of yourself. Did you die?” Her eyes widened. “Wait, did the griffon assassin get you?” Swirly Star huffed indignantly. “It will take more than some overeager feathered kitten to kill Swirly Star the Wise! I am doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. No, this is just how I appear in this reality due to other circumstances that you do not need to concern yourself with.” “Is this your world?” Clover looked around, seeing only darkness and mist. “Wait, if you’re here then why aren’t I seeing the world as you imagine it?” “Because mind your own business, that’s why.” Swirly Star scowled at her. “Do you still think you’re Beardy’s mother, or something?” Clover grit her teeth together. “I don’t think that—Look, I’m just trying to figure out how this, this infant multiverse works! I’m trying to save my friends and get us back home.” “Ah,” Swirly Star nodded. “Yes, that’s a good start. Have you made much progress?” Clover tilted her head back and forth. “Not as much as I’d like.” “She’s getting absolutely nowhere,” Clover’s dark side said, and both ponies turned to look at her. “That’s completely untrue!” Clover snapped. “I’m figuring out lots of things!” “No you’re not.” “I am too!” “Are not!” Swirly Star took a step back, and shook her head. “No. No, I don’t hold with this at all. There should not be more than one of you.” “Well, that’s one thing we agree on then,” Clover muttered. Her dark side stuck out her tongue at her. “I don’t suppose you can help me get rid of her? It turns out my dark side is super annoying.” “Your dark side?” Swirly Star’s eyes narrowed. “Did you run into Brandy?” “Her name is Ginny,” Clover said. “And yes, I did. Can you get rid of her? You’re good enough at driving me away, so you might as well use your powers for good.” “She’s your dark side,” Swirly Star said, and Clover’s dark side smirked smugly. “There is nothing in her except what you brought with you, and she’s your burden to carry.” Swirly Star watched Clover intently. “And that’s rather a key point here: do you have any idea what is really going on here, Clover?” Clover nodded. “I’m trying to find Chocolate Bunnies. She has the key to get us all back home.” “She has no idea,” Clover’s dark side added. “She’s just coasting.” “This does not bode well at all,” Swirly Star muttered, as the two Clovers glared at each other. The ghostly pony shook her head, casting off little wisps of mist. “Your fears may get the better of you yet. I know Beardy better than anypony, but I am not convinced of his judgment if he places his trust in you.” Swirly Star prodded Clover with a very solid-feeling hoof, and Clover focused her attention on her one-time teacher. “You’ve observed what this place is like,” Swirly Star said gravely. “It is with your dark side as with everything else. There is nothing here except what you brought with you. So I ask you again: what are you going to do about it? Do you even know?” “There are a lot of us,” Clover snapped back. “We all brought with us a lot of things, Swirly Star! And we’re all connected! Because we are ponies, and that’s what ponies do! We make connections! These universes aren’t parallel, they’re all interconnected. It’s not only me, because I’m not the only thing in this multiverse!” Her voice grew stronger as she went, her heart-rate increasing. “I’m traveling between many worlds, and it’s very confusing, but somewhere in all those connections is the pony who knows the way out, or who has the key to open the door, or, or something!” Clover looked away from the ghostly mare, and tried to see something through the mist, tried to look out into the void between the worlds, to see the ponies. She couldn’t. “You know, I am starting to figure it out, Professor,” she said more softly. “They’re all asleep here. Trapped in their own dreams and worries… The way to get through all these ponies is to get through to them. What I’m trying to do, Professor, is understand this place. Not just because it’s standing in my way, but because these are my friends and I care about them.” She turned a sharp eye back to the ghostly mare. “So are you going to help me with that, or are you just going to stand in the way?” Swirly Star smiled under knowing eyes. “Maybe he wasn’t wrong about you after all,” she said. “You do have some fire in you.” The old mare stepped to the side and pointed behind her. “Keep going this way, and you’ll find your friend. But be warned: there’s a ways left to go.” Clover nodded. “I’ll be fine.” “One other thing,” Swirly Star said from behind her as she trotted away. “Be careful. You are not the only one who is trying to understand this place.” Clover looked back, but Swirly Star was already gone. Only her voice hung in the air. “Now go, and find your friends.”