On the day of Clover’s funeral, Castle Everfree erupted in amazement.
Celestia and Luna led the procession to a portion of the grounds given over to the graves of ponies who had lived and died in the castle. The ponies who followed wept openly. Among them the remaining five founders walked and flew, each wearing a similar expression of loss. They had all liked Clover – even Hurricane, who famously didn’t like anyone. She flew haughtily alongside Pansy, who had risen up the pegasi ranks over the years but still deferred to her old superior when they were together. Platinum walked beside her son, eschewing his support in public, while Puddinghead and Smart Cookie plodded creakily along with earth pony tenacity. The years showed most in them, yet they refused to be carried as they followed their old friend to his final resting place.
Clover had been embalmed for viewing over the past days and would be now given a proper pyre. His remains would then be interred in the very heart of the country he had helped found. Celestia and Luna had commissioned the monument to be built when the castle itself was first raised, thinking that someday the six founding ponies deserved something special to mark where they lay. Neither princess had imagined such a day would come so soon, nor that it would be Clover who fell first.
Smart Cookie had broken down when she lumbered into the viewing room. “’Twas intended for me or mine to die first, old friend,” she had sobbed. “I did expect thy tears at my funeral, not mine at thine.”
Puddinghead had not sobbed, but for perhaps the first time in his life his good humour had deserted him. He had stood beside Smart Cookie and rubbed her crooked back as she cried enough tears for both of them. Now he walked beside her, his expression one of bewilderment that had nothing to do with age.
When Clover’s body was laid on the pyre Celestia and Luna stood to either side of it, presenting themselves to the crowd of ponies. Behind the founders were their various entourages, and behind them all manner of mare, stallion, colt and filly, all of whom had come to Everfree to pay their last respects. Not since the coronations of the two princesses had anyone seen such a huge gathering of ponykind.
Celestia exchanged a glance at Luna and nodded. She had suggested that Luna give the eulogy, thinking that perhaps she did tend to take over on public occasions. Luna opened her mouth to address the multitude, but before she could speak a loud crackle of magic split the air. With an inverse popping sound and a flash of light, a figure appeared between the princesses and the crowd. The long cloak it was wearing flared out as if in a stiff wind as the pony beneath coalesced into grey fur, feathered hooves and an extremely long beard.
Celestia gasped. “Starswirl?”
Nopony had been able to find him to tell him of Clover’s death. It had been assumed that he was out of the country on one of his spell-gathering quests. Evidently that assumption was incorrect.
Starswirl turned, the bells of his hat jingling as he faced the princesses. “Thou hath mastered distance but appear facing the wrong way?” Celestia heard him mutter under his breath. “Could thy magic not at least point thee in the right direction upon re-entry, old fart?” He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Princess Celestia. Princess Luna. Didst thou truly believe I would fail to appear at my own student’s funeral?”
Celestia recovered first. “Our apologises for such an oversight, Master Starswirl. We are gratified at thy attendance.”
She missed the truculent look Luna shot her before speaking in her place. “Indeed, though thy entrance be rather too dramatic for such a gloomy occasion, perhaps?” she said cuttingly.
“Be a funeral a time of pure gloom or a time to celebrate the life of the soul departed?” Starswirl responded archly, with not even a hint of deference.
Well, far be it for the most powerful unicorn mage who ever lived to be deferential to anypony, Celestia supposed.
Starswirl was unique among ponies – a flesh and blood receptacle for all kinds of magic, including those of other races and varieties most ponies thought of as nothing more than pipedreams. His search for a viable means of time travel was infamous and often used as a turn of phrase when a pony was thought to be doing something pointless and destined for failure. He was also ancient, cranky and never short of something to say. Starswirl was as famous for making enemies as spells, though Celestia had always liked him. He was the only pony other than Luna with whom she had ever discussed the Elements of Harmony, since he was the only pony who ever seemed like he might be able to puzzle out what they really were. Unfortunately he had not been able to shed any light on them, though Celestia had enjoyed their long conversations and finally being able to share stories of Canterlot, her long-dead family and nearly dying in the caves. It was difficult to talk of such things with anypony when maintaining the guise of impenetrable authority a princess should have, but Starswirl had never cared for such things and his mind was as sharp as a thorn bush – his personality just as prickly.
Luna glared at him. Apparently she had forgotten this particular aspect.
“Thou makest a fine point, Starswirl,” Celestia chimed in quickly. “Indeed, though we may grieve, so too should we celebrate the life of Clover the Clever and all his achievements. Prithee, wilt thou grace us with a eulogy?”
If Luna’s glare had been angry before, now it was venomous. Her calm mask had slipped and slipped badly. Celestia averted her eyes, refusing to meet her sister’s gaze. Now was not the time for pettiness and she would not create a scene by telling Luna she was being inappropriate.
Starswirl turned to the way he had been facing when he … Celestia tried to remember the word Clover had used when he described what she presumed this spell to be. Tele-something? Teleportation, that was it. Starswirl had teleported into the ceremony. She wondered how far away he had been. Could he ‘teleport’ himself through walls or only open spaces? Had he been in the crowd or outside the castle grounds? She immediately chastised herself for being so curious of that while the body of one of her oldest friends lay so close.
“Clover the Clever was a precocious student, if a little tiresome and apt to be sensible and practical when a situation called for daring,” Starswirl began, sending murmurs through the crowd. This was not how they had expected the eulogy to start. “He was also gifted, perceptive, faithful and far more genial than I have ever been, or ever will be.” Starswirl paused and then went on in a softer tone, “He was my first and only true student. I have taught many in my long years – some good, some so poor I have torn out my beard with vexation at their idiocy. Only he, of all, could withstand the fickleness of my moods longer than a single waxing and waning of the moon. As a colt, his talent and thirst for learning did impress me such that I invited him to accompany me upon my travails. None since then have shared my hoofsteps as he did. His gift for magic did likewise impress me, as did his compassion and kindliness. Many was the time that he did stop, despite my outcry, to help somepony who needed aid. Many was the time that he did risk my threats to leave him behind because he knew there was a time for the mind and a time for the heart. A lesson, I confess, I struggle with still. Though Clover was my faithful student, I also did learn much from him. Upon my oath, I do wish now that I had told him thus.” Starswirl paused again, as if gathering himself. “Clover the Clever was student, teacher, quester, defender of the weak, founder of Equestria and … my friend. In truth, there shall be no other like him and the world doth suffer greatly for his loss.”
Celestia’s eyes prickled. When Starswirl turned to face her and Luna questioningly, she nodded, giving him permission to light the pyre. Starswirl’s horn glowed as he levitated the torch held by a servant to the kindling below Clover’s body. It lit quickly and the flames climbed high, consuming the swaddled body in a matter of seconds.
“Rest well, Clover, my faithful student,” Starswirl said so quietly that Celestia barely heard him over the roar of flames. “I shall miss thee.”
She tried, but she couldn’t prevent her own tears from falling. She hoped she would never have to go through such a painful experience as saying goodbye to a student this way. It was hard enough saying goodbye to a friend.
The founding ponies at the front of the crowd and the ponies behind them said their final goodbyes and wept. Everypony was so absorbed in his or her own grief, and the sight of the burning pyre, that no-one focussed on Princess Luna and her dry-eyed stare.