The Education of Clover the Clever

by Daedalus Aegle


Chapter 8: Interdepartmental Exchange

The portal closed before their eyes, leaving Clover with Swirly Star the Wise, in the whirling snow on a mountaintop somewhere in the frozen north. The two mares looked from the spot where the portal had been, to each other, and back.

“Well,” Swirly Star said from where she had been dropped on the ground, as Clover got up and gingerly trotted towards that particular patch of empty air, “that's inconvenient.”

“Where are they?!” Clover tried, and failed, to not yell in a mad panicked squeal. “Professor? Star Swirl? Can you hear me?!” The last she shouted while standing on her hind legs and waving her forelimbs in the air. She turned back to Swirly Star. “What happened?!”

Swirly Star got up on her hooves, slowly, and sniffed the air. “It looks like Clover... and also you... went to the wrong exits. This is mine and Clover's home universe, the rift is dead, and the fabric of space-time has returned to its normal more or less stable state.”

“You have to open the portal again!” Clover yelped. “I need to get back home!”

“Yes, yes... Let me just—” Swirly Star raised a hoof and promptly fell over.

Clover let out a small “Eep!” and rushed to her side to try to pull the old sorceress back on her hooves.

“You're a jittery one,” Swirly Star muttered as she recovered her balance. “My Clover wouldn't panic so easily.” She harrumphed, and the harrumph transformed into a yawn partway through, which seemed to catch Swirly Star by surprise. “Ah. Other Clover? Forget the portal.”

“What do you mean 'forget the portal'? We need the portal!”

“I mean, forget the portal!” Swirly Star grumbled, glaring at the younger mare. “I need you to get me home to Cambridle. Preferably quickly.”

Swirly Star then closed her eyes and immediately lost consciousness. Clover “Eep!”-ed again and grabbed hold of her before she toppled over.

Clover put a hoof to Swirly Star's forehead: she had a burning fever. Clover's fetlock grazed against Swirly Star's horn, and recoiled. The horn was literally scalding hot.

Clover gulped, took a deep breath, and counted to ten. Don't panic, she thought. Star Swirl—I mean, Swirly Star needs me. Alright, Clover, let's do this by the book.

Status check: I'm in a parallel universe, on top of a snow-capped mountain somewhere in the frozen north, I have no idea where the nearest town is located, and Swirly Star the Wise has apparently passed out from magical overexertion. I need to get us both down from here and find my way back to civilization. She nodded. Okay. That all sounds pretty bad. But we're both wearing enchanted cloaks that protect us from the weather, so the deadly cold doesn't matter. Also there should be food in— Clover turned to see the pile of research instruments and travel supplies lying in the shadow of a rock, exactly where she—no, HE—had left it.

Clover spent several minutes just staring at the two hundred and fifty pounds worth of esoteric gadgets before deciding to just grab the food and tents and leave everything else behind.

“Swirly Star will just have to find it in her heart to forgive me for saving her life instead of her favorite telescope,” Clover mumbled, as she finished packing her saddlebags, laid the unconscious mare over her back, and set off down the mountainside.

– – –

It was several hours later, as Clover was nearing the base of the mountain, that Swirly Star first woke up again.

The old sorceress had grunted, and said: “We're still on the mountain,” to which Clover had answered in the affirmative. The old sorceress then snorted, and muttered, “My Clover would have gotten us home by now.”

She had then pointed a hoof in a seemingly random direction, and said “that way,” before passing out again.

Before the night was over they somehow found their way to a small wooden cabin, solid but bereft of life, standing on the barren rocky slope at the foot of the mountain. There they spent the night and ensuing day, while Swirly rested. The day after that they set off again, through the snow-covered woods below the peaks. All, the while, Swirly trotted slowly and spoke little, except to pick a direction every few hours.

After a few days of slow and silent travel, they reached a tiny coastal village, and hired a pilot pony to sail them to Braytannia. Swirly Star cast a minor enchantment to make herself inconspicuous while Clover failed miserably at haggling a fair price for the passage.

In the end, it took a full week of travel before they arrived in Cambridle. All through the trip, it seemed to Clover that Swirly Star the Wise was constantly on the verge of collapse, and Clover's mind in turn conjured up elaborate scenarios of her life to come if the old sorceress died, and left her stranded in an alien world. On the other hoof, their supplies of food, bits, and barter goods were also running low.

This conveniently gave Clover lots of opportunities to take her mind off Swirly Star and worry herself to exhaustion about other things instead.

One point in particular stuck in Clover's head as especially annoying, even though she was hard-pressed to call it important: her personal effects had all been left on the mountain in her own world, including several items her stallion double had not seen fit to bring along himself. Specifically, her personal grooming kit, which counted some two dozen items, had been replaced with one toothbrush, one jar of toothpaste, and one rather thin bar of soap. As a result, in the course of the journey home Clover's appearance had deteriorated rapidly.

All of this and much else was running through Clover's mind as they approached the outskirts of Cambridle. The two of them were on the back of a hay wagon driven by a pair of lean earth pony stallion twins who might, under other circumstances, have been of a great deal more interest to Clover. As it was, Clover's attempt to persuade them to give her a discount for her winning smile had only inspired a derisive snort from Swirly Star, and the twins had looked on with stoic immobility until Clover gave up and offered them twice as much as was fair to carry the mares two towns over.

The last leg of the trip thus passed in interminable awkward silence.

The ponies of Cambridle gave them a wide berth as they passed, and Clover fought not to stop and stare every time she thought she recognized a stallion who should have been a mare, or vice versa. When she did, almost invariably that pony would send her a wary glance that quickly turned to shock and fright.

Clover cringed as she wondered what the citizens might be thinking of her, and took to raising her hood and not making eye-contact as they trudged, Swirly Star resting a hoof on her shoulder, towards home. Instead, she scanned the city itself, and felt far from home.

Stylistically, Cambridle was the same: a treasure trove of Hay Gothic architecture. But the street plan was different, the street names sometimes matched and sometimes didn't, and every storefront was familiar but wrong, as though rebuilt from an incomplete description. Sometimes she had to stop, realizing that she had been following a street that didn't lead where she remembered it leading. Stallion shopkeepers she had known looked out at her from mares' faces, and Clover had to fight herself not to stop and stare.

Also, unlike Clover's home Cambridle, this Cambridle seemed to be in the grip of some sort of turf war. At least, that's what Clover suspected, judging by the abundant banners she saw bearing the image of a knot of thick black string, and the repeating accompanying graffiti declaring “Hail the Brotherhood” and “All will bow before the Hoof”.

Clover decided that since this had no equivalent in her own Cambridle, it could safely be ignored.

It was midday when they finally stumbled in the front door of Alternate Universe Canterlot House 1, and crossed through the entrance hall into the great research lab. Clover let out a great sigh of relief, and plopped down on her rear right there on the floor.

Swirly Star slowly trotted behind a nearby screen, using her magic to untie and remove her robe and hat as she did so. Clover caught a glimpse of the naked old pony underneath, withered and emaciated, and shivered.

Swirly Star raised her garments up on the outside of the screen, and shook them vigorously. The air filled with the jingling of silver bells, and with the accumulated dirt from weeks of travel pouring off them like water.

The now-clean outfit then descended behind the screen, and Swirly Star emerged on the other side as her normal self, covered tail to withers. She calmly walked over to a nearby reclining chair, and collapsed into it with a groan.

“Clover,” Swirly Star began, “I require something of you. Something very important.”

“Yes, Swirly Star?”

“I need you to go downstairs to the break room,” Swirly Star continued, speaking slowly and gravely, “and start making tea. I will tell you when to stop.”

– – –

“It's been five hours, Swirly Star,” Clover said, pointing to the clock.

“I said I will tell you when to stop,” Swirly Star replied. “Keep going.”

“I will happily make you all the tea in Cambridle if that's what it takes, professor,” Clover said as she lifted the kettle and refilled Swirly Star's cup. “Making tea is the most relaxing thing Star Swirl ever asked of me. But I'd quite like to get to work on getting home immediately, and I'd appreciate it if we could get started.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Swirly Star said. “You'll get back home the next time I see Star Swirl for tea and crumpets.”

Clover froze. “You meet Star Swirl regularly for tea and crumpets?” Swirly Star nodded. Clover let out a cry of relief. “Oh thank Celestia! I wish you'd said so a week ago, I wouldn't have had to worry!” Clover paused, and thought for a second. “Wait. How come I never knew this? Star Swirl was opening up portals to other worlds and he never told me?”

“Well, why would he? It's none of your business.”

Clover looked around. “Well, I'm his student. That would be of interest to me, and there's no reason for him to keep that a secret.”

“It's his personal life. What, do you think you're his mother or something?” Swirly Star asked, raising an eyebrow and staring sharply at the young mare. “Because if you do, I'm going to have to disappoint you. He never told his mother what he was doing either.”

Clover shifted uncomfortably under Swirly Star's accusing glare. “I'm not trying to spy on Star Swirl, I just want to have all the pertinent information.”

“Sure you aren't. You just expect to be told all the details of his private affairs, that's all.”

“We live in the same house, he knows what I'm doing at all times—” Clover cut herself off, and shook her head. “You know what, never mind. Fine. Okay. Just, please tell me what magic you use to cross between parallel worlds and what you need to do to work it, and I'll get it going right away.”

“Our next appointment is on the twenty-fifth,” Swirly Star said, turning back to the tea. “You can do your studying here in the meantime. Just don't expect that I'll go easy on you just because you're out of your comfort zone.”

“The twenty-fifth? Okay, so that's...” Clover frowned. Wait, what is today, exactly? I've completely lost track while we were out, and... oh right, other universe. “What's today's date?” she asked sheepishly, as she glanced around the walls to see if there was a calendar anywhere.

“Today is the twenty-seventh,” Swirly Star said.

Clover's jaw dropped. “So not for another month?” Swirly Star nodded. “We have to open the portal sooner, Swirly Star! I can't stay here that long!”

“Sure you can. Magic works the same here as in your world, and I know as much about it as Star Swirl. We have all the same books, my laboratory is as well-equipped as his. The chores and procedures are the same, the reagents are stored in the same fashion. You're not going to fall behind if you spend a month working here while the real Clover works with him.” Swirly Star glanced up at the young mare with critical eyes. “Well, I expect you won't get the work done to the standard that Clover does, but that's a tradeoff I'll have to accept.”

“That's not the problem!” Clover groaned. “Look, professor... I don't belong here. I don't know your Cambridle, I don't know any of the ponies here, and everywhere I looked I saw ponies staring at me like I'd turned into a monster. More than usual, I mean.” She looked at Swirly Star with pleading eyes. “This whole world feels uncanny and alien to me, and I just want to get back home. You and Star Swirl meet up regularly, so clearly you have a way to travel between our worlds. Please, just let me use it.”

“Yes,” Swirly Star nodded, “and we've set it to open once every two months. The next time is a little less than a month from now. You'll get home then.”

Clover whipped around and groaned in frustration. Swirly Star rolled her eyes. “I really don't see what the problem is. You need to get a grip.”

“At least I'm trying to be constructive and find a solution!” Clover cried in a high-pitched voice. Inside her head, a voice interrupted to remind her that Good Fillies don't lose their calm, and Clover cringed, but her mouth kept going with very little input from her thoughts. “Don't you even care about the other Clover? The one who's so much better than me? I'm displaced in the multiverse, thrown into a parallel reality, I'm offering to do everything and anything you need, but you can't be bothered to even pretend to be helpful!”

“Do you even know what 'parallel' means?” Swirly Star shot back. “It means they never meet, in all of eternity. Do you think it's easy, bending infinity to suit your purposes?”

“You meet Star Swirl every other month for tea!”

“Yes! And the next time isn't for another month!” Swirly Star cried. “Will you listen to yourself? You want me to shift the entire space-time continuum up a month just so you can avoid a few funny looks. Do you have any idea how difficult that is?”

“No, I don't know how difficult it is! How could I? Just a week ago I saw you and Star Swirl juggle multiple universes without trouble!” Clover gritted her teeth. “Star Swirl hasn't taught me any of this yet, and the two of you never tell me what's going on until I drag it out of you! Why can't you two just explain your thinking?!”

Swirly Star shrugged. “I gave up on explaining myself to others decades ago. It just goes over their heads, and they never listen. It's all 'Swirly Star, that's insane,' 'Swirly Star, please don't edit all the books in the university library', 'Swirly Star, I'm not going to give you the legal authority to conscript all the nation's unicorn doctors into your private army'.” She snorted. “It's a waste of time. You should trust us more. Both of you.”

The old mare tipped the cup and drank half its contents in one gulp, then picked up the kettle, shook it, and put it back. “Kettle's empty.”

“More? Really?”

“Have I told you to stop yet?” Swirly Star asked with a raised eyebrow. “No? Then go down to the break room and make more tea.”

– – –

Clover thought back to her interview with Star Swirl, when she first began her apprenticeship. The stallion had continually offered her more tea while they spoke, and since she couldn't possibly be so impolite as to say no, in the end it was a mighty struggle to answer the questions while desperately distracted by the need to relieve herself. In her mind, Clover had worked out the volume of the cup, and calculated exactly how badly she needed to go.

Swirly Star clearly did not have the same problem. Clover calculated that Swirly Star had drunk twice her own mass in tea, and showed no inclination to get out of her comfy chair.

“Perhaps she can convert fluid into magic current directly,” Clover mumbled to herself as she brought another pot. “Here, professor.”

Swirly Star filled her cup and sipped it, then grimaced. “You steeped this for much too long. It's like drinking porcupine quills. Try again.”

Clover raised an eyebrow suspiciously. She poured some into another cup, and sipped it carefully. “It tastes exactly like the previous batch.”

“Not remotely. The previous batch was bland and sad. This batch is alarming and offensive. If you continue along this trajectory, the next one will just cross over into 'vile'. Try again, and follow the instructions this time.”

Clover glared at the wizard. “I followed the instructions to the letter,” she said. “Every pot so far has been exactly the same. I think your tastebuds are just saturated. How about we take a break from the tea and do some work?”

“You clearly didn't do them all exactly the same, because this one is more terrible than the others, which were already pretty terrible,” Swirly Star said, shaking her head. “My Clover uses the timer in the fourth drawer on the third cupboard on the middle station. That makes excellent tea. Use that.”

“I have been using that! I've used it every time! It's accurate to the millisecond and the tea has steeped exactly as long each time!”

“Then you must have broken time in order to mess it up this badly!” Swirly Star exclaimed. “And since you've managed that, holding on until next month when our wavelengths meet again shouldn't be a problem!”

The argument was then interrupted by a knocking on the front door, which made both mares fall silent.

Swirly Star frowned. “I don't have time for this. Go answer the door, Clover. I'll be attending to my tea.”

“Yes, Swirly Star,” Clover muttered, shooting daggers at her not-teacher. “Well, whoever it is, I'm not letting them distract me...” She opened the door, ready to tell the visitor to get lost.

Standing on the top of the steps outside the door were her parents.

– – –

Clover looked like a younger, and generally lesser version of her mother.

Ivy Cordelia had given Clover her green coat and mane, body type, and horn shape. Ivy Cordelia had, however, kept for herself her piercing gaze, her perfect poise and posture, her ability to seem sharp and in control of any social event, and all the other little elements that made up her indomitable and commanding presence. She stood at the threshold, and at her side stood Clover's father, a slim purple stallion with a wavy manecut that fell just short of flamboyance, wearing a fashionable waistcoat and a necktie that matched his yellow eyes.

Her parents – and they were her parents, exactly as she knew them, not reversed or alternated or inverted – looked at her with a look that Clover did not recognize. Had she been capable, just then, of critical thought, she would have concluded that this meant she had found an entirely new way to disappoint them, which was no small feat.

I knew I was forgetting something.

“Mom! Dad!” She grinned with all the strength and carefully-honed smiling skill she could muster. “So good to see you!”

“...Clover?” Clover's mother asked, her head tilted to one side, one eyebrow arched sharply in impending disapproval. “Is that you?”

Clover gulped, and nodded, feeling sweat forming on her brow under the heat of her parents' unblinking stare.

“So, this probably needs some explaining,” Clover said with forced cheer through her forced smile. “See, what happened was—”

“What in the world has happened to you?” Ivy Cordelia interjected. She turned to her husband. “Weather Vane! I don't know how, but I know this must be your fault! My son has turned into a mare!”

“Why don't we all go inside and have some tea!” Clover proclaimed, and magically tugged on their collars to lead them in through the entrance hall. “Professor,” she said loudly, through gritted teeth, “my parents are here to visit, we're just going to go down to the break room and chat for a little bit...!”

With impressive speed, Clover led them down to the bottom level of the great research hall and into the break room.

“Welcome to Cambridle!” Clover all but yelled, her grin now manic and twitching. “So this is the break room, where the Professor and I have our meals. Let's put the rest of the grand tour on hold just now, though. Now, I understand you must be shocked, but I can assure you that there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, and that no lasting harm has been or will be done. Let me start from the beginning—”

“Clover, stop,” Clover's mother said in a voice Clover knew all too well, having been on the receiving end countless times in the past. Old ingrained instincts kicked in, and Clover watched herself fall silent and adopt the Remorseful Foal position without any apparent input from her conscious mind. Clover observed her own reaction in baffled fascination as her mother stepped around her, examining her from every angle.

“Quite ignoring the fact that your hooves are entirely too narrow and round for a stallion of your age,” Ivy said, “they are frankly in an atrocious state, chipped and filthy. You've let your mane go wild, and you're dressed like some vagabond earth pony! Clover!” She snapped, stomping a hoof for emphasis. “You've changed. You know we don't hold with that sort of thing! Can you imagine what the Court gossips will say about this??”

Clover's father nodded gravely alongside his wife.

Clover cleared her throat, tested that her voice was still working. “I haven't actually changed,” she said, as calmly as she could manage, “I didn't suddenly become a filly, I've always been a filly. What happened was—”

Clover's mother cut her off. “Dearest, you know we don't believe in this 'who you are inside' nonsense that's in vogue among the earth pony juveniles these days,” she said, not noticing as Clover winced and sighed with annoyance at the interruption. “Prince Sol gave you your body and it is your duty to do right by it. Like that little friend you had when you were a colt, what was his name? Sour something?”

“Sour Drops,” Clover said. “And I completely support him! Nopony has to play with dolls if he doesn't want to!”

“Well, of course he doesn't, dear. Because he's a colt. But I'm very pleased that you've stopped calling him 'her' and 'Sweet Drops'. The neighbours were whispering things.”

“That's what—what? No!” Clover bit her tongue and shook her head when she realized what was happening. “That's not what I meant!”

“Darling,” Ivy said, putting her hoof to Clover's cheek and speaking in what she wrongly thought of as her 'understanding voice', “we know you are very confused, and that is all right. Your parents are here to help you. The first step is to reverse this body-magic thing you've dabbled in. It's downright unseemly.”

Clover was torn. On the one hoof, she wanted to argue against her parents' rampant phobia of the realities of modern life. On the other hoof she wanted to calmly explain that she had actually just been swapped with their son and was from another universe, one in which she was born a filly and had been a filly her entire life.

What she did was sputter and gibber nonsensical phrases for a few seconds, then fell silent with burning cheeks.

Ivy sighed and rolled her eyes. “You've been falling behind in your elocution and rhetoric studies as well, I see. This is why we put you in those classes when you were a foal, Clover! If you'd only have tried harder then you wouldn't be having these speech problems.”

“I'm not your son!” Clover yelled, throwing her hooves up in frustration. “I'm somepony else! Your son is someplace else entirely! I'm only here temporarily and then I'm going back to my home world!”

“Clover, the specifics of this newfound spirit quest of yours don't really concern me,” Ivy said. “That tone is quite unbecoming of you, but given the circumstances I will forgive it. Just remember to always restrict these outbursts to private spaces where nopony outside the family needs to know about them. Sol knows your great-aunt Daisy should have learned that, or else Mother wouldn't have had to put her away.”

“I'm getting a migraine,” Clover muttered. “I cannot believe any part of this conversation is happening.”

“It's because of that madmare wizard, isn't it?” Ivy Cordelia asked. “I knew we shouldn't have sent you to magic school, I told your father this was never going to give you anything but grief! I knew reading all those trashy pulp novels when you were little was going to damage your mind—”

“I don't need to listen to you!” Clover yelled. “You're not even my real parents! ...I can't believe I just said that!”

Ivy gasped in theatrical horror, and clutched a hoof to her breast. “Well! Whatever is going on in this house is clearly a terrible influence on you, and we cannot permit it to continue any longer. Come, Clover, we're going home.”

Ivy took hold of Clover's right ear in her magic grip and pulled her along, ignoring Clover's yelped objection. Ivy opened the break room door and tried to lead Clover out, but rather than pass through it, Clover bumped her muzzle sharply against an invisible surface.

Swirly Star the Wise stalked in through the door, and glared at them as she lifted her mug. “There is a distinct lack of tea in my cup, Clover,” she said, as though she were accusing a pony of murder. “This must be rectified.”

“Ah, here's the pony responsible for this disgrace,” Ivy said. Swirly Star raised an eyebrow at her. “I will thank you to let us through, miss. I and my husband are leaving, and we are taking our son with us.”

“No,” Swirly Star said. “He's mine now.”

Ivy was taken aback at this blunt declaration. “So you mean not to permit our son to leave with us?”

“No, I need to continue experimenting on him,” Swirly Star said. “You can have him back when I'm done. Well, what's left of him. He might not be recognizable at first. He should still be a pony, although possibly not a unicorn. It might take a few years.”

Ivy's eyes narrowed. “This is preposterous,” she said. “You can't keep our son away from us.”

“They also said I couldn't turn the nation's gold reserves into frogs,” Swirly Star said. “They were wrong about that too.”

Ivy curled back her lips into a carefully calculated scowl. “The Captain of Guards in Whinnysor is a close personal friend of ours, you know. Perhaps a visit from him will change your tone.”

Swirly Star stood as though deep in thought for a second, then shook her head. “I doubt it,” she said. “The Unicorn Queen already despises me, and that hasn't changed my tone. Griffon Queen Sear has sworn to kill me, too. All I have to do is say one word, and she will lay siege to the Unicorn Kingdom. It's a very short word.”

Clover's mother looked at Swirly Star with horror and disgust. “You are actually a complete madmare, aren't you? You're sick. I am going to have you declared a menace to the public!”

“Get in line!”

The two mares glared at each other, and Clover could have sworn she felt the heat of a blazing forest fire emanating from their lines of sight. But before long, Ivy Cordelia backed down, huffed, and turned up her muzzle. “Fine!” she cried, as she stepped through the door. “Come, Weather Vane, we are leaving! But this is not the end of this discussion, Clover.”

“The owlsnake will lead you out,” Swirly Star said, and closed the door just as a shrill shriek pierced the air outside.

She then stumbled over to a nearby comfy chair, and collapsed. “Tea?”

“Here,” Clover levitated over a steaming full mug, and Swirly mumbled something which might, conceivably, have been a thank you.

As Clover looked on in horror, Swirly Star drank deeply from the near-boiling beverage, then let out a deep and contented sigh.

“Well, that was interesting,” Swirly Star said after a few seconds' silence. “And surprisingly enlightening.”

“They're not usually like that,” Clover mumbled. Swirly Star gave her a skeptical glance. “It's true!” Clover protested. “If it wasn't for—all of this! We would have had a perfectly polite conversation!”

“Sure you would,” Swirly Star said, and took another sip of her tea. “So in your world, it's your father who's like that?”

“No,” Clover said, after a second. “That was my mother as well. They're actually completely identical. In fact, I almost forgot where I was.”

“Really?” Swirly Star asked, looking up. “That's fascinating. Your parents might possibly be the axis of the multiverse.”

“Don't let my mother hear you say that,” Clover muttered, as she poured herself her own cup of tea and sat down heavily at the dinner table. “It's possible she already believes that's true.”

– – –

Swirly Star remained in the break room for the rest of the evening, bound to the comfy chair, sipping tea until the tea was gone and then commanding Clover to make more tea and beginning the process again. She was still sitting right there when she announced that bedtime was drawing near, and that Clover could retire for the night.

Clover spent the night tossing and turning in fitful sleep, periods of anxious waking interspersed with dreams on a theme of alienation and the uncanny. She woke up the next morning to the dual sounds of magical machinery humming with activity, and a persistent knocking on the front door.

Clover clambered out of her cot and stopped briefly in the bathroom adjacent to her workspace to see if she was presentable, and found that she was not. She had dark bags under her blood-shot eyes, her coat was ruffled and her mane was a labyrinthine tangle. What's more, true to stereotype, 'his' bathroom had nothing to help alleviate the mess, beyond a single towel, an old hoof-file, an ill-kept razor, and a comb with a quarter of its teeth broken off.

Hearing the knocking growing louder and more urgent, and deciding that Swirly Star was not going to do anything about it, Clover decided that making herself not look like a homeless madmare would have to come second to answering the door, and resolved to just grab her cloak and hide as much of herself underneath it as she could. She cantered out of the bathroom and back to her bed cot, and went for the hook on the wall where she had hung the cloak the night before.

It wasn't there. She looked around in a rush: it was nowhere in sight.

“Starrrr Swiiii—” She bit her lip. “Swirllllyyyy Starrrrrr!” she yelled.

Okay, that inflection doesn't work at all with Swirly Star's name. I need to come up with a new one... if I'm going to be here for long, which I am not so it will not be necessary!

Swirly Star did not answer. The knocking grew ever louder.

Fine, I give up. Congratulations, Cambridle, you get to see me in my monster-that-lives-in-a-swamp form once again, Clover thought to herself as she trotted towards the front door. “Coming!”

Clover opened the door slightly and peered out to see a burly unicorn stallion in the armor of a Royal Knight, the sort of pony who might be sent out to slay the monster in the swamp. Clover squealed in fright and tried to slam the door shut, but the stallion had wedged an iron-clad hoof in the door.

“Are you Clover Cordelia?” the knight said in a burst of military elocution which made Clover want to stand at attention. She resisted, and nodded mutely.

“Lady and Sir Cordelia will be expecting you in a few hours,” he said, hoofing her an envelope with the seal of House Cordelia on the back. Then he turned, and left, without another word.

Clover opened the letter and read it as she headed down to the break room for breakfast.

Swirly Star the Wise was still exactly where Clover had left her the night before, sitting in the same comfy chair, nursing a cup of tea. She looked up as Clover entered, still reading the letter. “You look terrible,” Swirly Star said.

Clover glared at her. “Where's my cloak?”

“That hideous thing?” Swirly Star said blankly. “I threw it away. It's in the experimental materials disposal container.”

“You can't just throw away my things, Swirly Star,” Clover said. “Please get it back out, it's mine and I want to have it.”

“What ever for?” Swirly Star asked. “It was made to be used and thrown away, you know.”

“Please, Swirly Star!” Clover exclaimed, exasperated. “Could we please just not argue about this today?”

Swirly Star shrugged, and activated her magic. With a pomf and a burst of glitter, a bright yellow container popped into existence beside her. Star Swirl flipped open the lid and Clover reached inside and pulled out her cloak, looking over it to make sure it was still in good condition.

“Like a foal refusing to give up a worn-out rag doll,” Swirly Star grumbled under her breath as she sent the container back to its pocket plane. “On the road, I can understand, but tell me, does Beardy not mind if you show up in the mornings looking like you've been dead for two days?”

“I had a bad night,” Clover muttered, laying the cloak across her back. “And I have a manebrush and coat conditioner in my bathroom. Your Clover doesn't.”

“He seems to get by fine without them. Clearly you're not so resourceful,” Swirly Star said, and gestured to the letter. “What's that?”

“My parents want to meet at a coffee shop downtown in a few hours,” Clover said. “It says they want to 'apologize for their insensitive behavior and discuss how to move forward with my new life as a mare'.” Clover sighed, and shook her head as she prepared her breakfast.

“So they're planning to abduct you and forcibly bring you home to Whinnysor,” Swirly Star said. “So predictable. You'll be happy to know I've already got them beat. I've put an enchantment on you: the moment they lay a hoof on you, it will activate a protective bubble which is invisible, intangible, and impenetrable.”

Clover rolled her eyes. “They aren't going to abduct me, Swirly Star. They just want to talk.” Clover paused. “They want to talk about things they don't understand at all, but they do want to talk.”

“If you say so. But when they do try to abduct you, don't worry: the magical siren will summon the city guard.”

– – –

A few hours later, Clover was trotting along the streets of Cambridle, searching for the coffee house. She had cleaned up as best as she was able, in the absence of proper tools: her coat was dull and her mane felt greasy, but at least it no longer brought to mind images of Maredusa.

On every street corner, she felt ponies staring at her. Even though she was now wrapped up in her cloak (which she had also washed as best as she was able in the circumstances), she suspected every one of them recognized her, or rather recognized Clover the stallion and then began imagining warped and twisted stories about what had happened.

Stories which bear no resemblance to my perfectly sensible real explanation.

She made slow progress of navigating her way through a city trapped, from her perspective, in the Uncanny Valley. In every store she recognized stallions chatting together who she knew as mares, and mares who should be stallions, going about their everyday business as though the universe had not been flipped upside-down. Clover caught herself staring, and noticed others staring back at her. She would take a calming breath and then glare back whenever she noticed somepony getting too curious, and they would quickly turn away. A few, she noticed, would then make a gesture to avert the Evil Eye when they thought she wasn't looking. “Mad old Swirly Star's black-hearted apprentice is at it again,” she muttered. “I probably need to do something about that once I get home.”

She was vaguely aware of more of those banners hanging on various street corners, bearing images of liquorice and vaguely aspirational slogans like “The Hoof Rises” and “Today Cambridle, tomorrow the world!”

Clearly this Cambridle isn't exactly like mine, Clover thought. I know nothing like this is happening at home.

In the end she found her way to the coffee house in question, whose doors were guarded by Royal Knights like the one she had met that morning, and also by ponies clad entirely in black, wearing darkened eye-glasses and with small gemstones poking their ears. Clover hesitated outside the building, looking uncertain, but they stepped aside to let her pass, and she heard one of the ponies in black say in a low voice, “the cub is in the stable”.

Inside, the entire coffee house was occupied by more guardsponies, and no customers were in evidence other than Clover's parents, who looked up as she approached.

“Ah, there you are, dear,” Ivy said, and her father nodded with a small smile. “Coffee!” she commanded, and a lone young earth pony mare in an apron stepped out from behind the counter. She was a bright yellow, with an orange mane that reached down to her withers, with a cutie mark of a mechanical coffee grinder. She emerged holding a tray with mugs and a steaming pot in her mouth, and slowly approached their table, glancing nervously back and forth under the glare of ten alert security-ponies trailing her every move.

“Thank you,” Clover said with a forced smile as the mare poured and served her coffee. A drop of sweat trickled down the mare's forehead as she glanced to the two bulky stallions on either side who stood ready to jump her at the slightest provocation. That done, she retreated.

“Sol knows how an earth pony establishment manages to make the best coffee in a unicorn city like Cambridle,” Ivy said with obvious discomfort, “but the concierge at the hotel insisted this was the best choice for the 'authentic Cambridle coffee house experience'.”

Clover winced at her mother's words, and silently vowed to come back here later and apologize profusely to the staff. “He's right, this place is the best in town,” Clover said. “But if you want the 'authentic experience', you really shouldn't force everypony else out of the building. You're supposed to blend, and mingle with the other patrons, and discuss the affairs of the day.”

“Well, that would never do,” Ivy said with a smirk. “Not for our purposes.”

Clover ran her eyes over the swarm of guards in the room, all of whom were now watching her closely. She gulped.

Remain calm, Clover. There is no way the Royal Knights would help your parents forcibly abduct you from Cambridle.

I think.

I mean, not unless they actually believed that Swirly Star is an insane evil sorceress who has brainwashed me so that I'll be her puppet in the nobility.

Which probably sounds entirely plausible from where they're standing, come to think of it.

“So, what's with all the security?” Clover asked, as casually as she could manage.

“Well, darling,” Ivy said, as she and her husband's eyes met, “last night, your father and I got to talking, and we thought perhaps we had come off as somewhat... insensitive, to your choice of lifestyle.”

Clover groaned.

“Dear, you must understand that we love you and we only want what is best for you,” Ivy continued. “We're just worried that, what with you moving away from home for the first time, to a new place, with new ponies and strange new social circles, that you've gotten some strange ideas into your head and are maybe making some short-sighted decisions. I first began to worry when you wrote to tell us that after all the work we did to get you accepted at the Academy of Magic, you dropped out of the first semester and began following some bizarre recluse of a private tutor instead.”

“I didn't drop out,” Clover growled, her mood souring by the second. “I'm still a student at the university, I'm just getting all kinds of valuable practical experience at the same time. I'm still signed up to take all my exams, and I'm learning from the greatest unicorn wizard alive. There's nothing to worry about!”

Ivy and Weather Vane merely stared at her blankly, not bothering to respond.

Clover sighed. “Alright, so sometimes things get out of hoof. But I promise that everything is under control. Anyway, you still haven't answered my question. What's with all these guardsponies? You're not seriously considering dragging me away from Cambridle by force, right? Because if you are, I warn you, Swirly Star has some sort of obnoxious alert spell in place to stop you, and I'd really rather not see what it does.”

“What an absurd notion,” Ivy muttered. “You see, darling? That's the kind of crazy idea this tutor is putting into your head! I would never consider such a thing!”

Weather Vane sipped his coffee, and coughed. “Not for more than a second, anyway.”

Ivy turned a withering glare on her husband as Clover's jaw dropped. “You didn't!”

“This is not the time for silly jokes,” Ivy hissed through gritted teeth. “We are not going to toy with our son's... or daughter's feelings in his hour of need. We are going to be kind and supportive and understanding.” Ivy turned back to Clover and put on a facial expression of tolerance and love that looked exactly as artificial as it was. “To get back to your question, darling, all these soldiers and guards are here because we've brought a special surprise for you. When we were discussing this trip at one of our garden parties last month, one of your old foalhood friends heard us and insisted on coming to see you! Isn't that lovely?” Ivy's eyes glittered with genuine joy at this statement, which made Clover wary. “Now, he might also be a bit shocked when he sees you, but I'm sure you'll still get along just fine.”

Foalhood friend? Who's... Clover's eyes widened. “You don't mean—”

A door slammed open in the back of the coffee house. “Alright, I'm back!” a young stallion's voice cried. “Is he here yet?”

Having just emerged from the bathroom, accompanied by four ponies in black standing in formation around him, was a pristine silver-coated unicorn teen wearing a suit in the height of Courtly fashion. Clover placed him immediately: Prince Platinum, heir to the Unicorn Kingdom.

Platinum froze up at the sight before him, and Clover cringed at the sight of her old friend looking at her like she was a monster. Dammit, Swirly Star.

“Clover?” the prince asked in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

Clover nodded, nervously avoiding meeting his eyes. “Hi, Platinum. Long time no see.”

“Your father and I are going to take a look around town,” Ivy said, leading the prince to sit down. “You two stay here and get reacquainted, and we'll see you later.”

They left, leaving Clover and Platinum sitting across the table from one another, looking at each other in silence.

“So this probably requires some explanation,” Clover said. “What happened was—”

“Swirly Star turned you into a filly?” Platinum interrupted. “Geeze, what did you do to get her that mad? Or was it an accident?” He leaned forward across the table to scrutinize her more closely. “How does it feel? ...Have you tried any experimenting?”

“Don't you start as well!” Clover pointed a hoof accusingly at the teen stallion. “I am going to get through my calm and reasonable explanation for everything once this week if it's the last thing I—!”

Before she could finish the sentence Clover found herself ponypiled to the floor by the ponies in black, her legs locked in place, somepony's leg around her neck, and a hoof ready to disable her horn at the slightest sign of trouble.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Platinum cried. “Chill, you guys! Clover is my friend! Seriously, let him go! ...Or her. Whatever.”

Various grips withdrew, allowing Clover to get back in her chair with no worse injuries than a sore shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Don't worry about it,” Platinum said, his voice low, shooting angry glares at the ponies. “I swear, these ponies make me wanna smash things.”

“So,” Clover said, “you're the reason for all the added security?”

“The PIBs? Yeah, they refuse to leave me alone,” he mumbled, slouching in his chair. “Also they said something about Cambridle being 'the site of an underground rebellion' and a 'high-risk zone'. Whatever.” He turned back to Clover. “So, are you gonna explain this or what?”

“Oh thank you!” Clover cried, then blushed. “I mean, yes. Look... very short version, I was out doing exciting magical field research with the professor, and I accidentally got replaced by myself from an alternate universe. No, I have not been transformed into a filly, and I can't tell you if anything 'feels' different. In my home world, you and me are both fillies. Meanwhile, the Clover from this universe is stuck in my home world with my professor, Star Swirl the Bearded.”

“Wow,” Platinum said. “That was surprisingly straight-forward.”

“I know, right?” Clover said. “But I tried to explain it to my parents and they wouldn't listen to a word I said!”

“Parents,” Platinum muttered, shaking his head.

“Yeah. Anyway, we're gonna switch back as soon as Swirly Star the Wise can get off her plot and start trying. She doesn't think this is worth exerting herself about, apparently.” Clover sighed, and slumped forward on the table. “Okay, that's unfair. Swirly Star, and Star Swirl too, almost killed themselves on this trip. They need to recover their strength. But she is so grumpy. I'm sure my Star Swirl isn't this bad.” She sighed again. “I just wanna go home. To where I can have a conversation with my parents without being reminded every second that they're a couple of complete bigoted jerks, and where my teacher isn't constantly comparing me unfavorably to my own alternate universe opposite-sex self. Apparently I'm a terrible failure as a Clover. On this point there is consensus.”

“Okay, so—let me just make sure I got this right,” Platinum said. “You didn't use magic to transform yourself into a filly? There wasn't a magical accident in Swirly Star's lab that did this? You're not really my old friend Clover at all?”

“Strictly speaking, that is correct,” Clover said. “I mean, these two universes are similar in many ways, except that all the mares are stallions and the stallions are mares. I have a space in my teacher's house, in Cambridle, in Braytannia, just like Clover does here. Princess Platinum, the daughter of the Unicorn King, was my old playmate in Whinnysor, and you look exactly like her. Only, you know, stallionly.”

Yeah – okay,” Platinum said. “Well, can I tell you a secret? There's something I would never tell anypony... but if you're going to another universe then I guess that's okay.”

Clover blinked. “Um. Sure, Platinum, what is it?”

“Promise you won't tell anypony?” Platinum asked nervously. “While you're here, in this world, at least?” Clover nodded. Platinum turned to the PIBs who still filled the coffee house. “Scram! Give us some privacy here!”

In ten seconds, they were alone. “What's the matter, Platty?”

“I don't think I'm gonna be a good king,” Platinum muttered. “I mean, bad enough that I'm gonna be the first ever king of the Unicorn Kingdom, after a long line of powerful queens. The last male pony ruler was frigging Prince Sol, and compared to that I'm gonna be – y'know, some stupid whiny foal who might as well still be wearing diapers. But there's something else too. I'm an only child.” He waved his forelegs around. “All day long, every day of my life, I have this, frigging PIBs watching my every move, because if anything happens to me – that's it. End of the novel. The Kingdom collapses. Which means I have to have an heir. And how the hay is that gonna happen?”

Clover blushed. “Well, the usual way it happens is...”

Prince Platinum chuckled, then frowned.

“Ah, come on Platty,” Clover said. “I know that somewhere out there is a lovely mare who doesn't care about your title and will love you for who you really are. As the old proverb says, destiny is a mathematically quantifiable force which is very active on our world.”

“I have a crush on Clover!” Platinum blurted out. “On my Clover, the colt who played explorers with me in the royal palace when we were just foals. The one who would just play with me like anypony else, without worrying about what my mom would think. The one who got to leave Whinnysor and do what he was inspired to do. I asked to come on this trip because I wanted to see him. And your parents let me come because they're desperate to win my mom's favor. But I can't tell him. It'd never work. My mom would never allow it.”

Clover remained silent, stunned, staring at the colt in front of her. Platinum slumped back in his chair, frowning, staring down at the table. “I'm gonna be a terrible king,” he muttered. “I can't do negotiations, or adjudicate disputes, or make important decisions. I don't have a mind for any of that stuff.”

Clover was ashamed to acknowledge the relief she felt at the shift of topic. “Well... you'll have advisors,” she suggested, racking her mind to think of something helpful to say to cheer up her glum friend. “There'll always be ponies to help you.”

Platinum snorted derisively. “Yeah, right. Look, there's nopony more dangerous to the monarch than her close advisors, and nopony in the kingdom you should trust less. My mom keeps advisors around so she'll know what not to do, and because they're less dangerous so long as they think they have her ear. The Queen, or King, is always alone.”

He slumped down in his chair. “I'll have to get married,” he said, wincing at the thought. “To some suitably convenient duchess that I'll never meet before the wedding is already arranged. She'll be one of the advisors that I'll have to distrust every day even as I'm supposed to have foals with her to preserve the lineage of unicorn queens.” He shuddered.

“I want Clover to be one of my advisors,” he said. “I like Clover. I trust Clover. Clover doesn't care about the politics, he's just a good friend. And... I feel better when I'm around him. But he's disappeared to another world.”

“We're gonna switch back,” Clover said. “Really. I'm just not sure when, exactly.”

“I actually meant Cambridle,” Platinum said. “Sorry, I should have been more clear. That was me trying to be poetic. He's run off to follow his dream of learning to be a great wizard from Swirly Star the Wise. He doesn't want to be cooped up in Whinnysor Castle.” Platinum sniffed, and Clover saw a tear building up in the corner of his eye as he spoke. “I was going to offer him so much money to work for me, once he graduates. But, I'm sure he'll want to go off and live in a jungle or something, hunting wild magical monsters, like we pretended to do when we were foals.” By now his voice was cracking. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. “I should really let the PIBs back in, they go crazy if I keep them out for long... You won't tell anypony about this, right? You promised.”

Clover walked up around the table and gave the prince a tight hug and gently stroked a hoof down his back. He in turn took hold of Clover and pressed her close, shaking softly, while she stared at the wall and racked her brain trying desperately to think of something helpful to say.

Just as she was opening her mouth to say something she hoped would be soothing and reassuring, there was a sharp knock on the door and a voice said: “My prince? The Cordelias are back. May we come in? If you do not answer in four seconds we will kick down the door.”

– – –

Once Clover's parents returned, the meeting turned awkward and polite. After a few hours of meticulously meaningless conversation concealing deep pools of emotion that neither party wanted to acknowledge, the gathering broke up. Clover's parents and Prince Platinum, accompanied by a score of Royal Knights and PIBs, returned to a location which had to be kept secret due to security concerns, and Clover returned to Canterlot House 1.

She trudged slowly along the streets, staring down at the cobblestones, deep in thought. “I don't know how to feel about this,” she muttered. “Is it this universe that's completely insane? Is any of this going on at home, and do I just not see it? Should I never have left Whinnysor at all? Is there anything I can do to help...?”

After a while she arrived at Swirly Star's Canterlot House 1, and began to climb the rickety staircase to the front door. “Apparently the lives of everypony I know are more fragile than I realized. All the time I've spent with Star Swirl, I've completely lost sight of my loved ones. Hrmph. Well, everypony else may be crazy, but I'm not.” She shook off her slump and stood up straight. “This ends now. It looks like I'm going to be here for another month anyway, and I'm going to spend that time fixing everything.” She smiled as she felt her newfound resolve flow through her. “That's right, Clover,” she said as she opened the door. “Clover Cordelia does not leave her friends behind!”

“Clover!” Swirly Star yelled from somewhere inside, “I've figured out how to get you home! You can leave this entire world behind now.”

“Or perhaps I'm just completely powerless, and am merely tossed about the universe by forces far beyond my comprehension,” Clover said. She saw Swirly Star in the astro-physics section, studying a blackboard covered in arcane equations, and trotted over. “Alright, professor, what have you discovered?”

“Something ingeniously simple,” Swirly Star the Wise said, turning away from the blackboard. “Behold!”

The wizard then presented a small hoof-shaped jar of salt, exactly like Clover's own but painted a slightly darker color.

“Salt?” Clover asked, with a raised eyebrow. “Alright, I'll bite. How is salt going to get me home?”

Swirly Star glowered at her. “You must learn a proper respect and awe for the power of salt, young pony,” Swirly Star said. “Far from being a simple seasoning, salt is a gateway to cosmic wisdom. Let me tell you one of the great truths of the cosmos: salt does not exist inside our universe.”

Clover blinked. “...it doesn't?”

“No, it doesn't. What conclusion do you draw from that?”

“Well, Hockham's Razor would suggest that you're insane, or just lying,” Clover said.

Swirly Star groaned. “Young ponies have no appreciation for the great truths of the cosmos.”

Clover cleared her throat, and continued: “Alright, fine, I'll play. I know from experience that there is generally some nugget of truth in Star Swirl's lunatic declarations,” here Swirly Star shot Clover an unamused stare that was significantly more unamused than normal, “and for the sake of argument I'll assume that's true of you as well.” Clover tapped her hoof on the ground for a few seconds, deep in thought and intently ignoring Swirly Star's glare. “You're saying that all salt is an illusion? Salt exists only in our minds? Or the entire universe is an illusion, and in reality we think and imagine the world into existence, and you only specified salt because you have a weird sense of humor?”

“All wrong,” Swirly Star the Wise said curtly. “Actually, I'm not entirely convinced Star Swirl the Bearded ever agreed to teach you. You could just be a very determined stalker.”

Clover grumbled, and thought. “If salt is real, and there is no salt inside the universe, then wherever there is salt is outside the universe?”

“There! Was that so hard?” Swirly said, rolling her eyes. “At least you're not completely useless.”

“That's more ridiculous than anything Star Swirl the Bearded has ever said to me!”

“This is possible, but unlikely,” Swirly Star said. “Observe.”

Swirly Star placed a hoof on Clover's back, and with a great flash of light, she teleported them away.

When the dots faded from Clover's vision, she saw living orbs linked together in a perfect square grid, stretching to infinity all around them.

She and Swirly Star were standing seemingly on nothing, and everywhere Clover looked she saw only orbs. Each orb was bound in all directions to six others, alternating without exception between two different sizes. The gaps between the orbs was large enough for the two ponies to pass through, and the space between them seemed conveniently to permit them to stand and walk on the nothing inbetween. They went on seemingly forever. There was no open spot in Clover's vision that was not blocked, sooner or later, by an orb.

Clover looked around in mute awe. “So this is...?”

“We are in salt-space, yes.” Swirly Star said. She turned slowly, facing down the multitude of possible passages before settling on one. “This way.”

“The realm of our experience,” Swirly Star began as they walked, “is divided into two parts: salt, and non-salt. Now, much as we can interact with different manifestations of salt from within our universe, from within the salt we can interact with different universes. Theoretically speaking. Pony magic cannot affect salt-space, so normally this does not concern us. Phase hydras, however, can. Phase hydras, as I describe in my work on arcano-cryptozoology, The Other Side of Up, by Star the Wise, Swirly, and Swirl the Bearded, Star, can transcend the normal laws of magical physics in order to make their nests in the vacuum between the atoms of salt crystals. Look around.” Swirly Star gestured to the vast rigid structure all around them. “This is depleted phase hydra nesting-salt. This perfect grid is a microcosm of the multiverse, and conveniently for us, from inside this particular salt-nexus the phase hydras had connected with both my universe, and yours. I discovered this when I delved into the salt in order to drive out the phase hydras a couple of months ago, and met Star Swirl the Bearded inside. So you see, Clover, we will be able to return you to your home world, and Clover to mine, by utilizing one of the fundamental laws of the cosmos: everything is better with salt.”

After a short walk through the seemingly infinite grid, Swirly Star and Clover arrived at an intersection of passages identical, to Clover's eyes, to every other intersection, going in six different directions. “Here we are,” Swirly Star said. “This nexus was the center of the phase hydra nest.”

Clover looked around her. “It's not very homely, is it?”

“Phase hydras have remarkable nesting instincts,” Swirly Star explained. “This place presents no obstacle to them. But in their absence, the salt rapidly returns to its natural grid state.” She raised her head. “Ah, my calculations were correct! Here come the others.”

Clover looked ahead. Two stallions were indeed approaching from directly ahead. One of them raised a hoof to wave just as Clover did the same.

“Oh, good, you made it,” said Star Swirl the Bearded. “I wasn't sure you would make the connection in time.”

“You know just as well as I do that I perfected trans-dimensional thaumic calculus a full two point seven seconds before you did, old codger,” Swirly Star the Wise replied.

“So you keep saying,” Star Swirl said, “but we both know the margin of error for that calculation was ten seconds.”

Swirly Star groaned. “Not the margin of error again. You're going to cling to that margin of error until the night you die. On your death bed, you will whisper to anypony who stands by, 'run the numbers one more time'!”

While the two wizards thus argued, the Clovers stepped away a short distance. They smiled at each other, each with a faint desperation in their eyes they struggled to conceal. “So,” Clover the stallion said, “how have you been?”

A thousand thoughts rushed through Clover the mare's head. “Oh, it's been...” she began, turning her head this way and that to avoid meeting Clover the stallion's eyes as she thought desperately for something to say, “interesting. How about you?”

“Yeah... interesting,” he replied.

They both scratched their manes, studied their hooves, adjusted their cloaks, and did everything else they could possibly think of to avoid looking at each other.

“...So that's us, I guess,” Clover the mare finally said.

“Yeah,” Clover the stallion said. “I guess so.”

“Now we know.”

They both nodded.

“Look, let's just get this over with,” Swirly Star called out loudly from across the nexus. “I have work to do, and this runt,” she waved a hoof at Clover the mare, “has done nothing but make a mess of my home since I brought her in. You can have her back.”

“Agreed,” Star Swirl said, as he turned and trotted back towards the passage he had come from. “Come, Clover! We're going home.”

The Clovers made eye contact one last time, and nodded at each other, in mutual understanding, before they crossed over to their respective mentors. Clover was just about to greet Star Swirl properly when a blinding flash of light struck her, and when she could see again the two of them were back in Canterlot House 1, inside the private lab.

“We're home?” Clover asked. “We're home!”

She ran out into the research hall with a wide grin. “I'm back! In my Cambridle! With my workspace, and my bed-cot, and my—” she gasped, and ran to the bathroom by her workspace. Everything was there as she had left it: her many towels, her scented soaps, her coat conditioner, and...

Her eyes widened. “My manebrush!” she cried, and hugged the implement tightly. “I've missed you so!”

She danced and sang to herself as she took off her cloak and hung it up by the door, and stood under the shower and let the hot water run down her mane and wash away her troubles.

– – –

Alright, Clover, no more dilly-dallying. Now that everything's back to normal, I'm going to meet my parents and have a lovely time with them while they're here. Then, take steps to ensure that everything stays just fine and doesn't fall apart like they have for poor Other Clover. So here's the plan:

Step 1. Spend an hour in the shower. Already did that, check.

Step 2. Find mom and dad and get everything cleared up. On my way there now, check.

Step 3. Fix everything.

That last point may need to be revised along the way. Well, I'll get there.

It was with a glowing smile on her face and a spring in her step that Clover stepped up to her parents suite in Cambridle's grand hotel, and knocked on the door. It opened a second later to reveal a Royal Knight, but Clover's eye was drawn to her parents sitting at a table further in, Ivy speaking and Weather Vane nodding along to what she said while reading a book. They both glanced up at her as she stepped in. “Oh, hello Clover,” Ivy said absent-mindedly before snapping around. “Clover? You've—” She fell silent, watching Clover intently as she drew close.

“Hi, mom, hi, dad,” Clover said. Behind her, the Royal Knight discreetly exited the suite and closed the door behind him. “I'm back home again.”

“Your mane – your hooves!” Ivy grabbed her close and held parts of her up for close inspection. “You're back to normal!”

Clover put on a smile. “Well, let's just say that I'm back home, and everything is all right now, shall we? I'd like to just spend some quality time with my parents now.”

“Oh thank Celestia!” Ivy Cordelia erupted, and shook her head. “Clover, don't scare us like that! The next time you feel like testing our love for you, for the love of the Princess do it the usual way, by telling us you got pregnant and you don't know the father.”

Clover blinked. “...What?”

“I knew it was all a trick! Your father didn't believe me. He wanted to call in the Corrections Brigade!”

“I did not want to call them,” Weather Vane muttered. “You asked me if I had any suggestions, and I mentioned that my mother once considered getting them to talk to,” here there was an almost imperceptible pause, “my brother. That's all.”

“Shush, Weather Vane. But I told him, this is just a test of our parenting abilities and that if we stayed true to our faith then our daughter would be delivered from the wilderness. And here you are! You see, Clover?” Ivy placed her hooves on Clover's cheeks and pinched and rubbed them as she would a little foal. “We know it was a struggle for you to manage the tutoring we gave you as a child. So many of the tutors we interviewed for the position said you couldn't teach diplomatic etiquette to a four-year old, but we found Miss Courtly Manners and here you are, and you are so much better than you would have been! So you see, Clover, this only proves that we were right all along!”

“Mom. Stop.” Clover was no longer smiling. “This wasn't a test. It was just something that happened, and I still never changed into a filly – I mean, a colt. I had just switched places with somepony else, somepony very much like me, and now we've switched back.”

“Don't be silly, darling,” Ivy said. “Of course it was a test. The Princess watches over us constantly. She put a challenge in our path, but she gave us the strength to overcome it, and you've come back to us as you were always meant to be.”

“This is such a load of garbage,” Clover muttered.

Her mother glared at her. “Just because you have been redeemed by Her grace is no reason to start taking the will of the Princess in vain. It's like I told you earlier. Princess Celestia gave you your body and it is your duty to do right by it.”

There was a knock on the door. It opened with a click immediately after, and the Royal Knight peered inside, and said, “Lady Cordelia, her highness wished to—”

He was then interrupted by Princess Platinum throwing the door open and trotting inside. “Is she here?” she asked, just as her eyes settled on Clover.

Clover sighed in relief at the interruption, and turned to her old friend. “Hi, Platinum, nice to see you again.” She shot a sideways glance at her mother. “Maybe you can talk some sense into my parents. They don't listen to me, but maybe they'll listen to the royal... family...?”

Platinum made no answer. Clover shifted her glance to the princess, and saw Platinum staring at her with wide eyes, unblinking, filled with joy. She had one hoof pressed to her muzzle in a failed and half-hearted attempt to conceal her mouth hanging open in a euphoric smile. “You're back!” Platinum gasped, her voice high-pitched and cracking. She leapt forward and clutched Clover in a bone-breaking hug, and Clover could feel her coat wet with a tear where Platinum's cheek pressed against it.

Oh, Clover thought. Right.

Several seconds passed in silence while Platinum held Clover tightly, nopony else moving a muscle. Eventually, Platinum seemed to remember herself. She quickly let go, and assumed a more formal pose and a softer smile. She cleared her throat. “It's good to see you again, Clover. It's been much too long.”

– – –

That night found Clover lying slumped forward on the break room table, staring at the wall. Her jar of salt rolled across the table, batted idly back and forth between her hooves, scattering strands of cosmic potential and possibility across the tablecloth.

“My life,” Clover eventually said to herself, “is a disaster zone.”

“I could have told you that twenty years before you were born,” Star Swirl said behind her, climbing into his comfy chair with another kettle of tea. “You'll reach the end of it sooner or later though.”

Clover had to think about that for a second. Behind her, Star Swirl sipped his tea.

“Star Swirl?” Clover tilted her head to look at her teacher. “What did you think of Clover? The other one, I mean.”

“Him?” Star Swirl snorted. “He was terrible. The entire time he was here he was on the verge of falling apart. There was no fire in his eyes.” He met Clover's eye with a confident smile. “Don't worry about him. He was nowhere near as good as you. If the two of you ever have to fight, you'll win. I'm sure of it.”

Clover closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out. “You know,” she began, “the entire time I was over there, Swirly Star the Wise was saying how useless I was, that I'm weak and pathetic and a huge disappointment compared to the other me. What I've gleaned of the rules suggests that you were treating her Clover the same way here. But him and me are almost exactly the same.” She turned a hurt look on her teacher. “Would it have killed you to be nice to him? To the stranger pony who was trapped in a distant world where everything is twisted and warped? Because if you had been nice to him, then maybe Swirly Star would have been nice to me... and I might have been reassured to know that there was at least one pony who could understand how I felt.”

“Something seems to be bothering you,” Star Swirl said, sitting down beside her with his tea. “I can tell. I'm very sharp when it comes to these things, you know.”

“Bothering me? Oh no!” Clover let out a brief, shrill laugh. “I mean, my teacher only spent several days straight chewing me out in another world, my parents are oblivious bigots who won't listen to a single word I say, their marriage is a sham, and my foalhood playmate has apparently been nursing a life-long crush on me. You see, she thinks my family is the very embodiment of idyllic bliss because hey, my uncles never tried to kill me, while hers did. While I'm sitting here studying magic with you, apparently the lives of everypony I know are falling apart around me, and I don't even notice. But no, there's no bother.” Clover sighed. “Why is everything so complicated, professor?”

“Because ponies,” he said severely, “are mostly morons, and generally jerks, and we are better off without them.”

“We are ponies, Star Swirl,” Clover said.

“Arguably,” Star Swirl said. “In a manner of speaking. There are ways to get around that.”

For a second it looked like Clover was going to respond and begin a heated argument about the value of ponykind, but instead she looked away, and slumped forward again with a sigh.

Star Swirl sat quietly, watching his student while deep in thought.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Clover made the muscle movements to nod, though since her muzzle was resting on the table it had no visible effect. “Yes, I know you don't—” Clover began, then realized what she had heard. She turned her head to face him. “...You're what?”

“I'm sorry,” Star Swirl said again. His voice was rather flat, but there was no mockery on his face. “You're right. We weren't very helpful. We didn't realize this was quite so difficult for you two.”

A few more seconds passed in awkward silence as Clover only stared at him with wide eyes. Once she realized what she was doing, she turned away, shifted her posture, and said in a calm, quiet voice: “Thank you, professor. I accept your apology.”

Star Swirl shook his head. “I distinctly recall disapproving of that mask, Clover.” He watched her closely for a moment, deep in thought. “You know what you need?” he said, as he used his magic to open a nearby cupboard and brought out a bottle from within. “You need to learn to stop worrying. Thankfully, there's a magic potion for that.”

He placed the bottle on the table in front of her, along with two glasses. Clover looked at the label: there was a picture of Clover herself in profile, her head turned to face out from the paper. She was standing on her hind-legs, her forelegs raised up in joyous exuberance with big eyes and a smile on her face. Standing opposite her was an earth pony mare, mirroring her pose. She had her mane tied in a long ponytail, matching her actual tail, a cutie mark of three apples, and she was wearing some sort of hat that wouldn't be fashionable for centuries.

Between the two ponies was written, in huge letters, “CLOVER BRAND APPLEJACK.” Underneath, in tiny, barely legible print, it read “Canterlot House 1 Brewery, Cambridle.”

“Is this the bottle you had me make?” Clover asked. Star Swirl nodded. “Didn't you say this was terrible?”

Star Swirl shrugged. “Well, maybe it wasn't that bad. For a first try, it was actually quite passable.” He poured the two glasses, and took a sip from his own, gesturing for her to do likewise.

Clover rose up to a proper sitting position, and gently sniffed the drink. Then she raised it to her mouth and took the tiniest little sip.

A powerful shudder ran through her as she felt the liquor burning across her tongue and down her throat, into her stomach, and from there through every part of her body. She coughed, half-expecting to see a plume of smoke emerge from her mouth.

Star Swirl nodded. “That's the feeling of other ponies' problems leaving your mind. Reapply it as needed.”

Clover steeled herself and took another, slightly larger sip. This time she was prepared, and only shuddered a little bit. Then she took another, and by now she could feel the tension in her beginning to unwind. “I think it's working. But I'm not going to make a habit of it.”

“Suit yourself,” Star Swirl said. “When you come crawling home after a late night out with your friends, I'll teach you my hangover spell.”

Star Swirl emptied his glass, and filled it again. Clover did the same, and they both drank.

After a while, Clover giggled softly to herself. “...Star Swirl the Bearded apologized to me,” she mumbled, with a grin. “Somepony fetch the pebble.”

“Don't be silly,” Star Swirl said with a somber voice. “That was only a level eight anomaly. Nine at most.”

Clover chuckled. Star Swirl made no sound but Clover could see the tiniest hint of a smirk in one secluded corner of his lip.

“Come on,” Star Swirl said, levitating the bottle and his glass. “Let's go up to the observatory. I want to show you something.”

A minute later they were out on the balcony, one of the highest points of the building, looking up at the sky. The Council of Horns had lowered the sun for the night, and the stars and the moon hung placidly in place.

“I have a Star in my name,” Star Swirl said. “Always I watch things from a distance. Sometimes, when nearness is needed, I don't provide. I can read the future in the stars, but even I don't know everything, and sometimes...”

Star Swirl stared up at the moon in silence.

“I'd just like you to know,” he continued, “there are... things I regret, as well. Life happens to all of us, even to me. There were things I let slip by, while I was doing something else. Important things, things I really should have been watching more closely. I hobbled away, and spent decades thinking about what I had done wrong.” He paused, awkwardly, struggling to find the words. “The point is, and this may come as a shock to you, I'm not completely heartless. I just wanted to tell you that I know how you feel, and I sympathize.”

“I know you do,” Clover said. “That's what's so frustrating. I know you can be a kind pony, Star Swirl. You just keep choosing not to be.”

Star Swirl shrugged. “Anypony who comes to me and asks for my expertise gets an honest answer. It's not my fault that everypony thinks I'm half-demon.” He scratched his beard. “Okay, maybe it's partly my fault. But mostly ponies are just short-sighted fools who fear what they do not understand, and rarely learn to understand anything new. Unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasi alike.” He took a sip from his glass and refilled it. “The good reasons for them to fear me, though, are mostly completely forgotten now. It was all written down in the archives of a city that no longer exists. Only fifth-hoof accounts remain, or higher.”

“So why not tell them the truth, and set the record straight?” Clover asked.

“Well, that sounds tedious and time-consuming.” Star Swirl shook his head. “I don't care what ponies think of me, Clover. It doesn't matter. I'm going to continue my work regardless.”

“It does matter,” Clover said. “Ponies matter, Star Swirl. Not being a monster matters. You might not care what ponies think about you, but I know you care about ponies.”

“Do you now,” he said flatly.

Clover narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her teacher. “I know there is some good in you, professor,” she said. “I am going to open you up, and I am going to find it, and I'm going to rip it out of your chest cavity and show it to the world.”

Star Swirl raised an eyebrow. “Somepony's getting ambitious.”

Clover nodded. “No matter how you struggle, now matter how you fight against me, I'm going to show the world the Star Swirl the Bearded I know is in there. The one who cares about ponies, and does good. The one who thinks that the world is worth fighting for, and doesn't hesitate to put himself in harm's way to protect it. And when I'm done, everypony in the world is going to adore you, whether you like it or not.”

Star Swirl's mouth curled into a wry smile. He lifted his glass, and clinked it against hers. “That's quite a challenge. I approve.”

The two ponies' eyes met in an impromptu staring contest, and neither backed down as they raised their glasses in a toast, then drank.