The Tutelage of Star Swirl

by Moose Mage

Return to Canterlot Palace

Star Swirl watched from the window of the carriage as the towers of Canterlot Palace rose over the horizon, white and gold and washed red by the sunset.

The journey had passed like a daydream, at once instantaneous and lingering. Star Swirl felt ever so slightly out of sync with reality as the silver chariot bore him ever closer to the gates of the palace, as if one hoof were still planted on the firm-set earth of Whither’s Hollow. He could not sleep, and he could hardly stay awake.

At last he felt the carriage begin its descent. Star Swirl closed his eyes as he made his fall back down to the world.

The carriage landed, the whistling wind hushed. Star Swirl opened his eyes. He opened the door and stepped outside.

The carriage had made its landing just outside the gates of Canterlot Palace. In front of the gate, solemn and stony-faced, two guards stood. Star Swirl gave the white stallions a nod.

Behind Star Swirl, the silver carriage turned and wheeled away, back up into the sky.

A guard stepped forward. “Star Swirl,” he said. “On behalf of their Highnesses Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, I extend a warm welcome to you, upon your return to Canterlot Palace. Their Highnesses trust that your journey was a peaceful one.”

“I wish to speak with Princess Luna.”

“Princess Luna is unable to see visitors at the moment. She has informed us that the strength of the moon will be of particular importance in the upcoming nights, and thus she is preoccupied with her duties. Princess Luna did wish for us to tell you, however, that she is very anxious to speak with you in the morning.”

Star Swirl cast his eyes about, listened. The castle was much more still, much more quiet than he’d remembered. He adjusted the neck of his robe. “I see,” he said. “And Princess Celestia?”

“Both of the princesses wish for you to retire early, after your long journey.”

Star Swirl stared at the guard. “I am being sent up to bed, then?”

The second guard stepped forward.

“Sir,” he said, “if I may be so bold as to say so, the princesses have been under an extraordinary strain as of late. Their Highnesses have instructed us to welcome you to the palace, and escort you to your chamber. We will take you inside presently, sir.”

Star Swirl looked up at the shadowy turrets and spires of the palace. The duties of the princesses, he thought. There are always fires across Equestria that need putting out, that much I know. But something here does not sit well with me.

Star Swirl looked back to the second guard. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said, with a slight bow of the head. “Lead on, if you will.”

Soon the guards were gone, and Star Swirl stood inside a room which he found all too familiar.

It was a circular room, set high up in one of the western towers. There were shelves of books, and a table equipped with ink and quills and empty scrolls, and a crystal ball on a stand in the corner, and all the things an aspiring unicorn could possibly need. Star Swirl took a deep breath of the old air and sighed.

Those books on the shelves, he thought. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen them before; nowhere but here, in this room. I wonder if I shall read them in my lifetime. I would now… I would walk over to the nearest shelf, take down a book, and lose myself for the night. But I’m tired now. I might still have a chance, I think. To discover those books. One day.

Star Swirl cast aside his cloak and hat, slowly climbed into bed, and sank quickly into comfortable dreamlessness.

Morning broke, and Star Swirl rose from bed. He donned his cloak and hat in the horizontal light of the window and left his room, making his way down the steep winding steps.

And halfway down, he met Princess Luna.

There she stood on the stair, unchanged, just as Star Swirl remembered her, just as he’d seen her for all his studies of the past ten years. Princess Luna did not change. He had seen this, he knew this to be true. The brilliant blue of her starry mane and fur, the grace, the benevolence, the agelessness. Princess Luna did not change. And that was a comfort to him.

“Hello, Princess Luna,” Star Swirl said. “It’s good to see you again.”

Princess Luna climbed the steps. She smiled as best she could. “Star Swirl,” she said. “I was just coming up to meet you. Are you all right? How was your trip? Did you rest well?”

“I’m fine, Princess, just fine. Everything is… well… I’m fine.”

The princess put a wing around Star Swirl, and for a ghostly passing moment, he allowed himself to be comforted.

“Come,” said Princess Luna. “We have much to talk about.”

The two of them walked together, their hoof steps echoing heavily in the corridors of the palace. The sound was thick in Star Swirl’s ears, somehow tired and lonely. The windows around them dusted the palace with morning.

“I’m sorry that I could not be there to receive you last night, Star Swirl,” said the Princess. “But there is so very little moon these nights, and now that you’re safe back here in the palace, I must make sure to cast my eye over all of Equestria.”

“I understand,” said Star Swirl.

“I hope that your studies have been fruitful? I’d assumed so, only because you’ve written so little to Princess Celestia. Knowing you, she’d have heard much more news of dissatisfaction than satisfaction.” She smiled. “But one never knows.”

Star Swirl offered a polite laugh. “No, that’s probably true of me,” he said. “But I am pleased with how far I’ve come. With where I am now. I feel that I might be changing, Princess. And I’m surprised – I’m not altogether against the changes.”

“Well, if anything, I’m not sure that the Star Swirl I knew would take quite so naturally to wearing a hat such as this pointed oddity.”

Now Star Swirl’s laugh was honest. “I did miss you, Princess.”

“And I you, my faithful student.”

They walked on for a distance in silence. Finally, Princess Luna said:

“You have questions for me.”

Star Swirl nodded. “Yes, Princess.”

“Follow me. I’d like to show you something.”

They took a right, entering a new, high-ceilinged hall. The windows grew fewer and farther between as they walked.

“Princess Luna,” said Star Swirl, “something is different here. The palace seems… quieter than when I was last here. Like something turned to stone.”

“Yes. Canterlot Palace is nearly deserted now. Princess Celestia has long been spreading her forces across Equestria. There are not many ponies to spare for holding doors open in the palace.”

“The Jackals.”

Luna nodded. The two of them took another turn, venturing deeper into the palace, the windows now completely gone. “Things are changing, Star Swirl,” said Princess Luna. “Things shifting and stirring and ready to burst. You know how strong they are. You’ve seen them, you’ve fought them.”

“But surely, they can be defeated. If I alone can fend off one of them, just think of the combined capabilities of the court unicorns. And of yourself, and Princess Celestia! Surely, Equestria can face down this threat.”

Luna’s steps slowed, ever so slightly. As if simply speaking of the Jackals were enough to exhaust her.

“We will face them down, Star Swirl,” she said. “One way or another. But it’s not a simple matter. We’ve tried to beat this foe by sheer strength before. We failed. The proof of that is all around us now.”

They arrived at a tall set of dark double doors. Princess Luna magically pushed them open, and the two of them entered.

The room was mostly bare, with some tables and chairs pushed aside. Spread out over the wall opposing the doors was a large old map of Equestria, variously pinned with small red flags, the sort of decoration one would find in a war room.

Star Swirl approached the map, scanning the flags. Princess Luna came up behind him. “This used to be the royal study,” she said. “It’s been put to some unorthodox use as of late.”

“What is this, Princess?”

“Sightings. Sightings of the Jackals throughout Equestria, marked with red. We’ve been collecting the data that we can, in the hopes of pinpointing a source.”

“A source?”

“Jackals are social creatures. They’ve gathered together in packs across Equestria, but if they can help it, they stick close to their king, their great leader and advisor. The bulk of the Jackals are drawn together by him, united under him. And now we’re searching for their hiding place. Look at the map, Star Swirl. Look for patterns.”

Star Swirl looked. The patterns were difficult to miss. “The sightings,” he said, pacing in front of the map, “seem to radiate out from certain points. Circles on the map, as if there are small packs of Jackals tucked away here and there. But then there’s this massive circle here, this mass of sightings taking up the bulk of Equestria. The king’s pack.”

“And where does this collection of sightings originate from?”

Star Swirl’s eyes skimmed the wall. He watched as the red flags grew denser and denser before him, and finally his eyes came to rest.

“You know this place,” said Princess Luna. “I remember your essays on its magical properties. And yes – it is as remarkable and unexpected as the books say.”

Star Swirl nodded, fixated by the writing on the map. “Everfree Forest,” he said.

“Yes. The hiding place of the king’s pack.”

Star Swirl turned to Luna. “Princess,” he said, “why not gather the forces of Equestria and launch an attack on the forest?”

“No, Star Swirl. Even if the king was not hidden deep in the treacherous magical thorns of Everfree, we could not risk another open battle with the Jackals. We would lose.”

“Even against you and Princess Celestia?”

Princess Luna sighed. She walked past Star Swirl and gazed up at the map.

“This happened before, Star Swirl,” she said. “I know my sister told you, in her letter. But let me tell you more. More about the last time. It was a long, devastating affair for the world. But it was not a war, at least not in the way wars are traditionally perceived. No, there was only ever one real battle in the fight against the Jackals.

“For the most part, we smoked them out where we could, wiping them from the land bit by bit, sending them back to Tartarus. But under their old king, they were confident, full of pride and bloodlust. Dealing with the Jackals bit by bit was foolish, ineffective – like amputating a limb one inch at a time. My sister and I knew that we had to break their spirits to send them back where they came from. We had to break the king. And so we found his lair, his pack, we gathered our soldiers, and we advanced.

“We had intended to use the light of the sun to our advantage. But the day was dark and stormy. Any pegasi we sent up to deal with the cloud cover were swiftly killed by the Jackals. The king’s pack took to the field, the forces of Equestria took to the field, and we fought to end the infestation.

“I’ve seen many battles, Star Swirl. I’ve seen battles between unicorns and battles between pegasi, between dragons and chimeras and draconequi… but the savagery of the Jackals, I’ve only ever seen once on the battlefield. It’s the blood, you see. Pony blood. When they smell it… it drives them to madness. The smell of pony blood is all it takes to extinguish their presence of mind. The battle wore on, the blood thickened in the mud, in the air… Soon, we were hardly fighting creatures of flesh and blood, only demons, ravenous and wild and unstoppable.

“But we killed their king. My sister and I, together, we fought him and killed him. If there had been another way, without all that fighting, all that blood… if there’d been an easier way to restore harmony, we would have taken it. But there are some days when answers are not easy, and harmony comes at a cost. So we killed the king. The Jackals’ spirits broke, even in their blood-drunk ecstasy, and we finished them, and we sent the survivors back to Tartarus. Much was lost. And now we know that we failed. Now, we risk suffering the past all over again.”

The map loomed high over Star Swirl, suddenly somehow vast and ready to fall. Princess Luna turned back to him.

“We await the next letter from King Klav-Mar,” she said. “We do not know if we can trust him, what he truly wants, or if he even exists. But another letter was promised to us, and so we’ve decided to wait. Then, we’ll play what we’ve been dealt, however we can. Perhaps things can be settled peacefully. Perhaps not. But now, we wait.”

“Princess… is there anything more I can do?”

“You’ve done so much already, Star Swirl. Now the duties fall to my sister and I.” She turned to the door. “But come. You must be hungry. We’ll get you some breakfast. And then at midday, Princess Celestia would like an audience with you.”

Star Swirl nodded, and the two left, back into the halls, back to the windows of morning sun.

“Princess Luna,” said Star Swirl, “why does your sister wish to see me?”

“You are her student, and she cares for you.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Princess Luna stopped. “Something is troubling you, Star Swirl.”

Star Swirl looked at the floor, considering. Then he lifted his head, looking Princess Luna squarely in the eye. “Yes, Princess,” he said. “We’ve never spoken about it, but now, I feel compelled to ask… What do you think of your sister?”

Luna looked at him. Something deep in her eyes gleamed, unreadable. She turned and continued down the hall. “That is quite a question, Star Swirl,” she said.

Star Swirl galloped to catch up. “Please, Princess, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be presumptuous. But you never spoke of your sister. All I really know about Princess Celestia is what every pony in Equestria knows. But I suspect that there is more. I did not mean to offend you. I apologize.”

Luna again slowed to a stop. When she looked to Star Swirl this time, there was more of a tenderness in her face. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said. “You’re right. There is more you should know about her. In truth, I wish that you had gotten to know Princess Celestia better before you left for Whither’s Hollow. That the two of you had gotten to know each other. But that is often the way with my sister. She does as she sees fit.”

Star Swirl watched Luna, and could not help but feel that he was seeing her differently. As if a thin curtain had been cast over her. Or drawn away.

Luna blinked at the wall, then returned her attention to Star Swirl. “You ask me what I think of my sister,” she said. “It is a difficult question. But I will tell you, my faithful student. Because I have no pony else to tell… You know our roles, Star Swirl, Princess Celestia is the master of the sun, and I, the moon. We are caretakers of harmony. And yet the natures of our duties stand opposed. Princess Celestia raises the sun for the waking eyes of countless millions of ponies the world over, and so she is loved and exalted. She takes their love to heart. I raise the moon. A night light for late travelers, a glow in Equestria’s bedroom windows. Not quite as obviously magnificent as the burning morning. The ponies of the world see my sister and I very differently, and this is lost on neither of us. They clasp my sister close… and they let me drift away. And now my sister and I drift from each other. What do I think of Princess Celestia? I think she is a thoroughly steadfast, dedicated ruler, and I only wish that one day she will be my sister again.”

The growing yellow light in a nearby window fell on them both. The princess’s gaze frosted over, and she went to the window. Star Swirl looked at Princess Luna carefully, and finally came up slowly alongside her. He spoke delicately.

“Princess Luna,” he said, “there is room for more than one princess in Equestria.”

Princess Luna gave a weak smile, her gaze still locked on the distant sunrise. “Yes, Star Swirl,” she said. “That is true. But sometimes, I wonder.”

Her eyes lingered for an instant, and then she turned from the window, breaking the moment. “I’m sorry, Star Swirl,” she said. “I am keeping you from your breakfast. Come.” And so she turned from the window the two of them continued down the halls of Canterlot Palace.

“But you never did tell me, Star Swirl,” said Princess Luna. “Beyond the Jackals, how are things in Whither’s Hollow? Last night, you wrote that you’ve grown very close to the ponies there.”

“Yes, Princess,” Star Swirl said, aching to mention Lily. But he could not. Writing a letter was one thing. But to speak one’s mind in person was a different matter entirely. Star Swirl carefully searched for an appropriate truth, and smiled when he found one.

“Today,” he said, “is the Bicentennial Celebration of Whither’s Hollow.”

“Is that so!”

“Yes, it was the talk of the town from the minute I arrived, and I’ve been helping to prepare. I’m sure that the festivities are in full swing by now. Oh, Princess, you should have seen some of these preparations! Tents for games and vendors out in the fields, cakes and pastries, and music, and flowers everywhere, and the most wonderful pyrotechnics when the sun goes down. They’re a bit of a surprise, the pyrotechnics; I’m sure that the town will be absolutely delighted with them. Yes, they’ve worked very hard for today. I do hope they’re enjoying themselves.”

“I’m sorry that you could not be there, Star Swirl. It’s no little cause for celebration, two hundred years of survival. It sounds like a day to be remembered.”

“Ah, yes, well… my friends will be there. They will enjoy it, I am sure. And I did help to bring the celebration about, in my own small way. That is consolation enough.”

“Hm.” The princess grinned. “That is wise, Star Swirl. That is the kind of wise that does not come from a book.”

Star Swirl cast his eyes to the floor and returned the grin, half hidden under the wide brim of his hat. “Thank you, Princess,” he said. “That is very kind of you.”

They ventured down the hall, both trailing blue, Star Swirl his great starry cloak and Luna her mane, and for a modest instant, both were satisfied.

It was not long before Star Swirl had taken breakfast in the Canterlot kitchen. And as the short hours inevitably flew, he found himself in another familiar spot – outside the throne room of Canterlot Palace. The last time he had stood outside those double doors, he had expected a new life to begin. And he had not been disappointed.

He stood there waiting, alone, no Royal Guards stationed at the doors this time. He awaited the call of Princess Celestia herself from within, a summons to open the door and see the throne once more. And what would happen then, Star Swirl could not say.

He examined the doors, gleaming silver and white, reaching up to the high ceiling. Star Swirl remembered how impressed he’d been with those doors, how excited and frightened he’d been.

He took a steadying breath. This will be over soon, he thought, and I will be back to my friends. All this madness, the Jackals, the constant danger – it cannot last forever. I speak with Princess Celestia – this time, as cordially as I can – and that will be that.

Star Swirl’s eye caught the specter-like shape of his own reflection in the metal of the door, fuzzy and still, blue and gray. He seldom saw his own reflection. He eyed the watery outline, the pointed hat, the gray head, the sweeping shape of the cloak behind him. Star Swirl looked and thought.

Suddenly a sound tore him from his contemplation, a sound that was sickeningly loud in the hollow palace – galloping hooves, echoing every which way, closer and closer. Star Swirl emerged from his trance and turned to meet the approaching sound.

A small bronze earth pony was running toward him, a small bag slung around his neck, coming up fast. The pony skidded to a halt in front of Star Swirl, did his best to catch his breath, and spoke.

“Am I addressing Star Swirl?” the bronze pony asked.

Star Swirl looked down at the short panting stallion. “Yes, I am he,” Star Swirl said.

The earth pony reached into the small bag slung about his neck and pulled out a square of parchment. “I was told,” said the pony, “to bring this letter directly to you – that it was very urgent.”

Star Swirl eyed the letter in the messenger pony’s extended hoof, the pounding of his heart unusually loud in his ears, his stomach shrinking. Star Swirl magically lifted the letter from the messenger pony’s hoof and held it aloft in the air. The letter unfolded itself. Star Swirl read.

He read it again. And once more.

Star Swirl’s breath was heavy now, shallow and difficult. An icy sweat built up on his brow. Beginning to tremble, he lowered the letter.

This cannot be so, Star Swirl thought, the ink on the page clattering deafeningly in his cavernous mind. It cannot be. This is… This is…

But he knew. A part of him knew that it was true, and something inside him broke.

He shoved the letter into the folds of cloak and rounded on the messenger. “When did you get this?” he cried. “When?”

“Just today,” said the messenger pony, taking an involuntary step back, “hardly a few hours ago, I came here as fast as I could, I’m sorry, sir, a guard delayed me at the gates – ”

“Go send for a carriage,” said Star Swirl. “Towed by pegasi. Now. Go.”

The bronze pony began to shake. “Sir, I’m sorry, I have no money for – ”

“I have some bits on me, don’t linger here, go, now.”

For a split second, the messenger pony looked into Star Swirl’s fiery, dead, dark eyes, and then he turned and bolted.

Star Swirl could feel the weight of the letter in his cloak, a plate of white-hot iron. And then he followed behind the messenger pony, his cloak billowing behind him, his eyes wide open and empty, his head and heart splitting. And the words, the impossible words, over and over again inside him:

She’s dead, he thought. Lily is dead.

Comments

[corona320]

that aint even cool an, no matter how cliche it is to harm the romantic item.