//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: The Interview // Story: The Education of Clover the Clever // by Daedalus Aegle //------------------------------// "Welcome to Canterlot," Star Swirl the Bearded said as he showed Clover into his house. "Thank you, sir," Clover said with rigid false cheer, trying desperately to discern the hidden meaning behind his words. There has to be a hidden meaning, after what I just said. He can't just let that slide. He can't possibly be that forgiving, can he? She dared to glance around the inside of the house. They had passed through an entrance hall, one that seemed to extend down to the left and right far longer than she would have thought possible from how the house looked on the outside, an entrance hall that was unlit and filled with copious amounts of crates and boxes, racks of assorted tools and construction materials, random architectural features (an arched portal lay flat on the floor beside several stone columns in different heights, thicknesses, and styles), bottles of ink lying in huge piles, what she assumed were souvenirs from distant lands (she saw what she was sure was a camel skull lying next to a giant bat wing on one shelf), and huge stacks of what could not charitably be called anything other than garbage. The whole room was thick with the smell of Prench perfume, for some reason Clover could not hope to discern. Passing through the far door, Clover found herself in a pleasant, surprisingly normal sitting room. Star Swirl led her to a perfectly ordinary couch with crowded bookshelves covering the wall behind it, and had her sit. There was a tray with a pot of tea, and a selection of cups, no two alike. Star Swirl levitated the pot and poured two cups, placing one before Clover. Star Swirl's cup was plain and square, and on the side was written 'World's Greatest Granddad'. "Oh, you have grandchildren?" Clover asked pleasantly. "No," Star Swirl said, and glanced down at the cup. "I took this as a trophy from the Necroprancer, after I defeated him in his lair and broke all his magics." He sipped his tea. "I want to ask some questions. What's your name?" "I'm Clover Cordelia, of—" "Where are you from?" "Whinnysor, my parents—" "How old are you?" "Eighteen. I—" "Tell me about yourself." Clover gritted her teeth. Her parents had put her through countless hours of etiquette training to prepare her especially for moments like this. She knew by heart the one hundred questions most likely to be asked by a prospective employer, and up to twenty different answers to choose from for each, depending on the circumstances. Now was her moment to shine, and she wasn't going to be rattled. "Well, sir, I was the top of my class at the Bleaton academy, and I got the top grade on the Cambridle entrance exam. I have a unicorn pedigree of strong magic going back over two hundred years, I started practicing magic at a very young age and I score as five years above my age on the SUTs. Beyond that, I'm a hard worker, I'm very friendly, I speak four languages and play three different musical instruments." "Very good," Star Swirl said without enthusiasm. "Now tell me about somepony else." Clover blinked. "What?" Star Swirl didn't answer, and gave no indication that he had heard her. He was looking away, flipping through some papers. After several moments of tense silence he looked back. "Take your time," he said. Clover said nothing, her mind on fire. After several seconds she decided to simply wait and see what the old stallion would do. He was writing down something, and nothing about his gestures or movements suggested he remembered she was even there. Eventually he nodded in satisfaction at what he had written, and looked back up at Clover, and asked as if nothing had happened, "Tell me about an important memory to you." This question was not on the list of the top one hundred, but she adapted. "Well, one summer when I was a filly, my parents and I were visiting my elder brother in..." once again Clover noted that Star Swirl did not seem to be paying any attention. "In Celestalia, and we visited the Pontheon." She rattled off the story about her love and appreciation for history and art exactly as she had rehearsed it, and was gratified to find Star Swirl focusing on her again, hanging on her every word. She permitted herself a satisfied smile at the end of the story. Once again he did not seem impressed. "All right then," he said. "You're in a desert, walking along in the sand, when all of a sudden you look down and see a tortoise..." – – – There was a clock hanging on the wall directly above and behind Star Swirl's head. Because of this, Clover knew—to the second—how long the interview had lasted so far, and that it was three point four six eight eight eight times as long, so far, as the longest other job interview she had ever had. Furthermore, Clover knew that her experiences applying for work, extensive as befitted a young noble unicorn in need of an impressive resume, meant that she could calculate with some accuracy how far she deviated from the mean in terms of job interview length experience. Simply put, the interview had entered the category commonly designated "went on forever". The entire time, Star Swirl's demeanor had been shifting from completely disinterested to intensely focused and back again, and every point in between. She had no idea what he was thinking. However, she did know how many cups of tea she had been practically forced to drink, and using hoof measures she had worked out the volume of her cup. She could therefore, if it became absolutely necessary, give a precise measurement of how badly she needed to use the little filly's room. "How is your micro-telekinesis sensitivity?" Star Swirl asked. She sighed, realized that she was sighing, and tried to turn it into the wistful sound of a happy memory partway through. These specific questions about her magical capabilities were extremely unsuited for her carefully rehearsed answers, but she persevered. "Sir Gilder was extremely happy with my showing when I worked for him in his store, I handled some extremely fine pieces of jewelry. He said he had never trusted any other unicorns to levitate jewelry of that caliber, they were much too delicate," she said, struggling to keep her cheerful voice from breaking. "I see..." Star Swirl said. "No precise numbers? Pressure measurements over time over time?" "...Two hundred microneightons per second for five minutes, give or take... thirty microneightons, I'd say," Clover said, hearing the voice of her conversation tutor in her mind telling her that she was a failure and that Star Swirl would surely throw her out over her breach of method. "Try to keep your answers brief and precise, please," Star Swirl said, as he wrote something down. "How many pages of text do you read on an average Wednesday between noon and three thirty?" "Sixty-four on average, but forty-two on median." "How long do you sleep on Night-Mare Night?" "Six hours and three quarters." "Tell me what you see," he said, and levitated a card in front of her face with some ink blots. "The Council of Horns casting a binding spell over the Gates of Tartarus." He flipped it around and looked at it. "I always thought it looked like a bunny." He tossed it away. "Have you ever seen this sign before?" He conjured an image in the air made from tendrils of colored smoke. It looked vaguely like three yellow question marks in a circle, but they seemed to move of their own accord and Clover could feel it beginning to give her a headache. "No," she said. "How about this one?" Star Swirl brought up a new image that looked like an eye in the center of a billowing five-pointed star. "No." Star Swirl brought a new one up. "How about this one?" Clover looked at it. "That's my family coat of arms." The image vanished. "What is the most soil you have ever carried with you at any one time?" "I have no idea." "Is that because you object in principle to carrying large quantities of soil?" "Um. No?" "What," Star Swirl said with the utmost severity, "do you think of toads?" Clover blanked out. "They're green? Some of them?" "Yesss... yes..." He nodded sagely. "That would explain some things. It can't be easy, being green. Now, how would your brother answer that question?" "...The same, probably?" "What would you say is your greatest weakness?" he asked firmly. At last, another list question. "I refuse to abandon a task until it's completed well!" Star Swirl recoiled, throwing himself back in his chair as though he had just been told a vital secret. "Do the toads know this?" he demanded. "What would you do if they use this knowledge against you?" Her mouth opened and closed, but no answer came out. Star Swirl turned and looked up at the clock. Clover recognized the disappointment on his face. Star Swirl turned back and all but glared at her, looking deep into her eyes. "What is it that you want, Clover?" he asked. Clover swallowed, met his gaze as best she could, and threw away the method. "I want to learn everything there is to know about unicorn magic." "Why?" he asked, throwing the word at her with some force. "All my life, it's been my dream to someday be a great sorceress," she said, her breathing coming heavier as she felt the excitement of her life's ambition beginning to flow through her. "Ever since I was a little filly, I've been reading about your history, and about all the great wizards and sorcerors. That's what I want, Professor! I want to force the hidden knowledge of the world out of hiding, to see incredible things that nopony has seen before! Please, give me a chance!" He nodded slowly, not turning away his piercing gaze. "One more question," he said. "Think carefully and answer truthfully." She nodded. "What, in your view, is the ultimate manifestation of evil?" She opened her mouth to answer immediately, but stopped herself. He wants a justified answer, she thought to herself. Perhaps it doesn't matter who you pick, so long as you can explain your choice. The array of major candidates from recent history flickered before her eyes, and as she considered them she realized something. Star Swirl, she knew, had personally encountered almost all of them. Encountered, and walked away alive. Is that his point? To remind me of his experience and power? She frowned. I already know that. Is there something deeper I'm missing? Or does he actually just want me to say whatever I think myself? "Well?" Am I going to offend him if I pick someone he met? Is he going to say that I'm an ignorant foal who completely failed to learn the lesson of the Battle of Stalliongrad if I give a bad description? Is he just looking for an excuse to kick me out? Star Swirl watched her closely, not blinking. She felt sweat begin to trickle down her brow. Perhaps none of them are ultimate. Perhaps they were all only just flawed, living things. Perhaps they could all have been avoided. Perhaps there is no ultimate evil at all. Star Swirl sighed, and opened his mouth to say Time's up, and send Clover on her way. "Silence!" she yelped. Star Swirl halted at the preemptive interruption. "Could you repeat that?" "Silence. Or perhaps the lack of communication," Clover said, her heart pounding violently in her chest. "Or perhaps the breaking of connections between ponies, or between living things. Because... because there is nothing evil among living things except what's caused by lack of understanding and empathy. That's my answer." Star Swirl said nothing. For several seconds, he sat completely still, deep in thought, while Clover tried not to think about how desperately she wanted to find the bathroom. "Very well," Star Swirl said quietly. "You may be my personal research assistant and study magic under me." The room immediately melted around them: the walls, the bookshelves behind them, the cozy furniture all vanished in the blink of an eye to reveal that they were sitting in the center of a huge hall that was part library, part alchemist's workshop, and part astronomical laboratory. A labyrinth of stairs were set up to allow navigation across an abstract sculpture of a room, with a multitude of platforms on numerous levels, each appearing to be dedicated to a particular field of study. The two of them were sitting on the ground floor, and it all rose up above them like some vast organic entity. Clover was brought back to real life by Star Swirl pointing a hoof to the side of the room and saying "Oh, and the bathroom is over there." – – – "Are you ready to begin?" Star Swirl asked once Clover returned. Her face lit up as her eyes took in the huge hall, far grander and more full of knowledge than any of the facilities at the university itself. Already she anticipated the grand tour, listening to Star Swirl talk about where it all came from and what it all could do. She imagined exploring every volume, learning to use every instrument and device to wrest the secrets from the universe. "Yes, Professor!" Star Swirl turned, and began to trot away. "Let me show you to your desk." Clover nodded, and ran after him, prepared to memorize every word he'd say about his work as he showed her through the hall. This turned out to be easy, as he said nothing at all, not bothering to glance at the various devices and treasures he had assembled as he led her past them. Clover cleared her throat as they passed through the alchemical workshop section of the room. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at a brass implement over an oven. Star Swirl turned in the direction she was pointing. "It's an alembic," he said bluntly. "Oh," she said. "How does it work?" He froze up in shock. "You're a university student, of course you know how to use an alembic." "Well, actually I haven't had any classes in alchemy yet, Professor. I've studied alchemical philosophy, but..." "Classes?" Star Swirl looked at her in surprise. "I assumed you'd learned to use it to make applejack. That's what everyone did when I was a student." He levitated a scroll and quill and began to write. "Assignment 1: learn everything needed to make applejack." He turned and trotted up the stairs to the next platform. "This way." Clover followed, attempting to take in everything by sight as they went. The layout of the platforms was elaborate, irregular, but not nonsensical. She could see the hints of a system in it: each platform, she thought, was dedicated to a particular field of study, and linked to connected fields as closely as possible. A large central platform was taken up almost entirely by large shelves. That must be the general magical theory section. As they turned a corner, one particular shelf caught her eye, and once again she paused and coughed to attract Star Swirl's attention. "Professor?" "Hm?" "That one shelf there, in the center of that platform..." His eyes followed the line of her hoof. "Which one?" "The one with the iron fence around it, and the multiple magic wards and locks, and the big sign that reads 'Forbidden Knowledge'? And all the skulls around it?" "Oh, that one. What about it?" "...I guess that shelf is off-limits then?" "Hmm," Star Swirl looked thoughtful for a second. "That can be a rule, I suppose. But it seems rather superfluous. Chances are you will never in your life be able to penetrate the wards by force, and if by chance you do you are unlikely to heed my rules anyway. But if it helps, very well, that shelf is off-limits." Finally, they arrived at a sparsely furnished wooden platform in a corner of the hall. "This will be your study," Star Swirl said. Clover looked it over. It was quite bare: there was a plain wooden writing desk, and an equally plain chair. A bookshelf to the side was mostly empty. A window faced the east, and gave her a wonderful view of the outskirts of Cambridle town, the great buildings of the Academy just visible in the far distance. The platform was nowhere near as large as the others, but it was empty and ready for her to bring in her own tools, whatever she might need. To her, it was filled with potential. "This is excellent," she said. "So shall we get right to work? What's first, Professor?" "You have your syllabus for the semester?" he asked. She nodded and levitated her saddlebags open, and lifted out some slim books. "It's Not the Size that Counts: Understanding Horn Anatomy, Basic Conjuration, Your Horn And You: Your New Life As A Magic-User, A History of Unicorn Magic and What's the Matter with Magic: An Introduction to Arcane Theory. Those are the—hey! What are you—" she watched as Star Swirl swiftly yanked the books out of her magical aura with his own and hurled them out the window. "You need a new syllabus." Her mouth hung open. Star Swirl merely turned away, grumbling to himself, and retrieved a batch of over a dozen thick volumes from the many shelves scattered around the room. Each of them floated down and landed before Clover in an orderly stack that was as tall as the unicorn herself. "This is a start. Read these over the weekend." She looked at the stack of books with shock and growing horror. Star Swirl simply wandered off without looking back or saying another word. Clover picked up the first book and flipped to the list of contents: "The Art of the Five-Dimensional Dynamic Conjuration Matrix, by Star Swirl the Bearded. Chapter 1: On the Direction of Magical Wormholes." Clover began to wonder if possibly she had made a mistake.