> The Symphony of Dawn > by Ice Star > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Symphony of Dawn > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- (10:43 pm, or the 5th Lunar Hour) Rule 1: Always trust yourself. Rule 28: Always doubt yourself. Rule 76: Never trust yourself. Rule 76. 1: Never trust yourself no matter what. "Is there anypony present?" I called into the suffocating indigo mist that was the night. Nopony responded, which only increased my worry. As soon as the sun-sister plunged her beloved light below the horizon, the world became a terrible place. I cursed the thought of all the wickedness that I knew darkness would bring, and how it managed to make all the world's ugliness seen instead of purged. To be stuck out past dusk, so far from anypony was no different than a death sentence, even if these times were different. The tribal lands may be long behind us, lost to snow and frightful spirits, but all its fears still wormed around in all my mind. I felt them galloping in me even during the stillest of nights, and I know that they never left. My hooves will still shake before I even recall the impressions of my past, no matter how eroded the terror is, its heart is still within me. Nervously, I fumbled for a piece of my tangled green mane to twirl. At least I knew it was green. The darkness of night would make anypony feel as though they are crippled with uncertainty. All it has ever done was inhibit our light-blessed sight and hiding foul monsters from the herds we lived and died for. The only light around me was the eerie glow of stars. Each was like mocking little eyes of loathsome creatures, and I feared everyone of them. It would not be hard to imagine a windigo attached to those eyes... I had one main rule. Only one, yet I just had to go and break it. I had many more rules, for over all the years I had lived, I had filled so much with my scribblings. From the surfaces of hoofkerchiefs to any spare scrap of paper, I wrote all my rules from an early age. They were not always my rules too. Before I had been permitted even the most basic of journals to chronicle, I had been made to write down everything I must learn, for Starswirl was clear that I did everything wrong. I had to memorize all my rules throughout the years, for originally they were all his rules, with all of me being stricken from them. Only after we left the tribal lands and he never followed did I get to add me into them. I remember how much his famous yelling, and the way the strike of his hooves or a walking stick would punctuate my rule reciting. It was like he had knocked all other thoughts from my head. Eventually, only the rules rattled in there, once everything else had fallen out. Clever am I? I do not think getting lost like this in such a wildland makes me seem worthy of my title. It was one that was bestowed to me by the Unicorn Court, by Princess Platinum herself shortly after we met. Before I met her, I had been called everything but clever. I did not know what the word even meant. I only knew that Starswirl was a stallion who gave me many rules, and I had more rules than sand in an hourglass stuck within my head. Other than them, I only knew the simplest of parables and homely sayings, each as worn as the roads of the old land were under my hooves. Stubbornly, I shook my head. I may be lost, but mayhap if I clear my thoughts I could get a hold of my bearings. Only then will I find my way home to the safe city of Canterlote. Let me see... I am a unicorn and well-versed in magic compared to the common class of my race, should I not try to harness some of my magics? Slowly, my concentration deepened allowing a blossom of light to take life upon my horn. Magical knowledge has progressed greatly since the times of the three tribes. Now the average unicorn knew and could perform an astonishing total of seven distinct spells! It was a leap great enough to make one's jaw drop! Why, so few were as old as I — thus, it was harder each passing day, to have to explain that in my day a unicorn was lucky to learn four at most! My settings began to emerge from the murk of unholy darkness like magic from the aether Starswirl had spent so many years cursing. According to him, all magic was drawn from there, and the many old mages and their clanmates in the Unicorn Court only ever agreed. So many generations of unicorns since the start of time could not be wrong. I was lucky to know a grand, great total of nine spells, and this fine light was one of them. Sparse wild shrubs of a deciduous variety — that was one of the funny little words so many old unicorns of the Court knew — and various dark gray stones common in these mountains. Minuscule clumps of snow displeasing to the eye dotted the areas still partly shadowed. I still could not tell which way I came, for the wilds were unmarked. If I go to higher ground, which would pass time, I might be able to see Canterlote and her homely werelights from here upon the upper regions of — oh, what was this mountain's name again? Canterhorn, or so the two odd sisters told me. Yes, that was it, so perhaps that will solve my problem. After all, I am poor at all known forms of teleportation, since in truth I was no more than a glorified house-help. Me, an apprentice as they all think? Bah, what lies! I shifted my gaze to the upward slope and trotted slowly toward it with the white-capped peak firmly imagined in my mind's eye. My tangible pair seemed to be deceiving me, for it almost looked as if the shimmering rays of my gray aura werelight had begun to falter. Brusquely, I changed my thoughts to the sun's light and all the good it would bring. Yet, my mind couldn't help but turn to the subject of rules... Like the many that I had just broken. Rule 94: Obey all rules. Rule 264,427: Avoid insanity at all costs. I was the only sane mare in that valley of Starswirl's, and remain the only completely sane one to ever leave it. Rule 638, 632, 811: Looking behind you every 10th of every 30th of a second is not insane, merely caution. ... Four hours earlier... (6:00 pm, First Lunar Hour) I walked merrily down the halls of the Forte, Canterlote's meeting hall. My hooves made a more eager trotting noise than usual, as they yearned for the harder ground to tread upon than worn, woolly rugs. This was despite the hour, when I knew my old, cracked hooves would only ache to stumble across the stone roads of Canterlote so late in the night. I could nearly feel the uneven texture of the bricks underhoof. That kind of crookedness and sagging in craft marked all earth-pony-built structures as the sensation played in the fog of my thoughts. How long ago was it that only my kind bothered with building roads at all? Now even the earth ponies were being made to bathe monthly and take up the unicorn art of masonry — no longer did they simply follow the dusty, worn prints of their foremothers and deem it a grand route! Through the Forte's open windows, the time of the sun's setting was approaching the realm. Before me, the whole nation of newly formed Equestria, my Most Beloved Triarchy would shine under its fading light. A spring breeze wafted through, and it carried the faint scent of the coming summer. From the corner of my pale gray eyes, I noticed the sun's last rays of day illuminating the city. Its flat-topped, deep gray buildings were like the dazzling gems buried beneath the rocky flesh of the mountain it was built upon. The mountain that us three races of pony-folk settled in the shadow of was named Canterhorn, or so we were informed, and it was the tallest mountain in the known world. Distant horns signified the beginning of the dreaded lunar hours, which were controlled by a being as frightening, mysterious, and dreaded as they were. That horrid creature was the same one who told us the mountain's name, almost as though she did not think it was rightfully ours. Such arrogance! "Clover, my dear companion, what are you doing up at his hour? The night air makes ponies with nervous ailments, such as yourself, ill. You know this, and yet you take no proper cautions! Where are your herbs to drive off the night-imps, reverse the addling effects of moonlight, and drive away the mooncalves?" I turned to the speaker, immediately recognizing the elegant tone. Lifelong friends are not easily forgotten, no matter how much everything else may spill from my head, and this one has been in command of me for so long. A warm smile spread across my wrinkled face. "Princess Platinum," I dipped into a slight bow, levitating the hem of my tan, linen peasant dress into a curtsy. My bobbed spring green mane, which, like my tail, had never been brushed, fell to my face in ungroomed tangles that were washed sparingly. In doing this, the permanent black bags of worry that hung, puffy under my eyes for longer than I can remember were hidden from view. Neither had ever been brushed, which was a trend as common as wildflowers in spring among the earth ponies, but not exceedingly common among my own race. Starswirl had never bothered to tend to me in that regard, supplying me mostly with nourishment, a roof, and enough sacks to make into cloaks. That was more than most unicorns of my station could ever ask for! To have known how to brush my mane was a luxury, and now I simply sawed off bits whenever it grew too long — and I do mean saw. Smart Cookie taught me the best way to do so; it was the same methods she had used any time an earth pony sought medicine and required cleaning up. In return, I had taught her all the best herbs that we unicorns chewed to keep our teeth as long as we did. A mint green hoof streaked with silver patches of age lifted my chin, which forced me out of my deep bow. Rarely could my body comply with the demands of formality, but for my mistress, I could think of no other way to treat her. In recent years, I finally understood why even the frailest and oldest among the social inferiors in the Unicorn Court — the only peers I had — would risk their health to express their inferiority. Not only was it proper of them — their ears would be boxed and their bodies would be bruised if they could not show their station. Faint hints of a rare smile were present on the large-eyed mare's face, and I know that for all the tarnish upon her heart, my mistress would never strike me so. Once Equestria came to be, and our tribes were united, she stopped physically reprimanding me entirely. Her long bustle dress and elaborate robes, petticoats, and jewels seemed to make Platinum's figure that of a worshiped idol. This was rather ironic, though fairly appropriate — if anything was to be worshipped, let it be a thing. An idol. The world would be less full of omens and terror if indulgences in vanity were all that could be. Most of the tribal generations — whether we were united or divided — had been fiercely atheist, including myself. Our rulers and ancestors enforced this with great consequence, even long after the idea of gods was lost to us. Oh, how I wished it had stayed lost too! There had never been any gods here, never. All was that of the unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies. Nothing else was worthy of being compared with us, yet the foul creatures to the south — buffalo, horses, and to the great surprise of us all, more ponies! — dared to lie and say otherwise. We good and righteous Equestrians had heard that they dared whispered our two Alicorns were gods instead of queer beasts of some sort. All the world was mad, I say, to dare and insist on gods and worship and greater things. It does appear that in the future, it will fall on Master Equestria to correct the falsehoods and idiot-notions of gods in other ponies and lesser animals, just as a master rights a wrong servant. That is the way of things, for the inferior to submit, and why we still do away with those who would dare upset reality with so-called 'evidence' of gods. "Faithful servant," my aged mistress and leader had begun, "I merely inquired what you were doing, not offering you to prostrate before me." I dipped my head back. "My Lady, I was just preparing to go for a walk on the mountain." Her brow creased, and I cannot read a thing in the lines. "Clover... do your dreams trouble you once more? I can have a physician prescribe a tonic for that—" "Nay! A tonic I need not for, my memories are mine and mine alone to bear! The madness of it all belongs to none but I, and I assure you, my Mistress, that there is no sense to them! You know as well as I that every action done as master and servant is not an experience we share, and as I servant I shall not dirty your nature with my own, lesser one. Parts of my life will always remain private, as will parts of your own, for I am but a lowly servant to Your Humble and Most Kind Princess Platinum of Equestria. Long may you reign!" Platinum's solemn mask burst into her usual high, haughty laughter, although I knew she meant no harm in her deed. "You spicy thing," she punned. I always reveled in this joke between us two, for it was one of the few I understood, especially in these later years. She meant 'stubborn' but used 'spicy' since my own long-departed parents named their unexpected daughter — myself — after a favorite spice, cloves. My name, I am told, was originally Clove-Verre. This was my family's name for their green-house, yet I knew not what 'Verre' could mean, having not known my parents long before Starswirl bought me. However, Starswirl never bothered to say it correctly. Instead, he had always called me 'Clover' and it is by great luck that one day, while he was drunker than usual, I learned this story at all. Another peal of laughter had followed, which made it so that she was unable to speak. I had stood next to her stiffly, in sharp contrast to the vain and elegant monarch cackling on the floor. It was both because my head was empty of what I could do, and that I knew this was proper for me. What would portly Puddinghead and haggard Hurricane think if they knew their co-princess was capable of this degree of mask-shattering? I think it would break them. She still kept enough of herself frozen around them, even though they had all been crowned together. Puddinghead gave up the backward illusion of elections and became a proper royal, and Hurricane was our Princess-General. All three of them had agreed that queenhood was a powerful temptation, and that they would need to acknowledge their two other peers. The title of 'princess' had been decided upon — and three princesses made one queen, or something like it. Some would consider it odd for two elderly mares to banter so. Maybe if we were each married then it might be inappropriate, but unwed we were, and we had no need to worry about neglecting husbands. My past and passion for learning magic forbade me. The Unicorn Court deemed it so, that all magic must be devoted to betting the lives of others, and is the ultimate form of servitude. Platinum's lust for power and self-absorbance in areas caused her choice to be the same as mine, as did her fixation with me. When she finally recovered composure her little 'speech' continued. "Of course you would still want to take this stroll. But do you not know how dangerous the night is? Unlike the nastiness of dreams, there is a true bite to the outer night that your inward one pales in comparison to. Even a former Arcane Student like yourself might have trouble... a monster native to this land might attack you." Like many other ponies — even after she learned I was no such thing, not properly — Platinum still called me an 'Arcane Student' like I were one of the queer sisters and had actually been taught anything. I took a deep breath. "Your Highness, I require this walk to quell my hysteria. I ask you to preside over my pupil, Arcane Vision." Platinum snickered slightly, for she still thought it humorous that I considered a babbling colt of three winters my apprentice. I never exactly found this amusing. It was not an unusual age for a foal of his age to be purchased and reared as a master or mistress sees fit to manage their apprentice, especially not when I was a foal. Young ones were bought and sold all the time in those days, and any amount of money, no matter how meager was preferable to holding one’s young in their forelegs and realizing that there was another mouth to feed. I was apprenticed in this manner by the time I was five winters old to the grouchiest pony who ever did live, never to see my peasant family again, not that I remember them well. Starswirl had bought me shortly before my fifth winter, though not that long. If I did not serve her, I would have thought my mistress was mocking me. Platinum fixed her gaze once more upon me, face crinkled in worry. For once she most definitely looked her age — though I could not say so without having to go before a court, even though we were friends. "Please," she whispered, "I will comply with your wishes if, my dear friend, you promise me... You promise me that you will not be in eaten... Or killed by monsters." "Very well m'lady. I most honestly swear by my green-tangled hair not to end up within some monster's snare, for when it come to my mistress-friend the Princess it is deeply that I care. Now, if you please, allow me to breathe of all places... OUT THERE!" We both fell into cacophonies of giggles. I twirled like a graceful youth once more and imagined Platinum as she had been: a smooth-faced princess fancily twirling her robes and wearing her silver crown upside down... ... Present (11:20, Sixth Lunar Hour) Rule 48.7: Never go out after dark. I glided along as quickly as possible until I came to an area as tangled as my mane's ratty plaits. No paths were present. I heard a small stream trickling somewhere in the gloom. Trotting up to the glistening surface, I dipped my muzzle in for a drink. As the liquid flowed down my throat like life itself flowed through ponies, the light atop my horn grew brighter and reflected off of my pale pink coat. I lifted my head back up. Water still trickled down my chin. I noticed that my apron was dirty and smudged. It may be a trivial matter, but I could feel a twitch coming on as I began to ignore... Rule 37: Always make sure aprons are perfect and clean if possible. Aprons are a major up-grade from hooded homespun cloaks, Clover When I was done scrubbing my apron I picked out the path that most resembled an upward slope. That banished the misty memory of Starswirl and his commands from my mind. I climbed for what felt to be another few hours, pausing at streams as much as possible. Occasionally strange, almost leathery, flapping could be heard, causing me to duck in the deciduous ferns. Rule 5,731: Always keep promises As I cantered lightly further down the path, as though the wilds could be called such a thing. Weariness had started getting to me long before this, but only now was it slowing my brisk but cautious movement to heavy, wearing steps more fitting for my old bones. Small lights began to dance around me, flying around at random or landing on trees that no began to recede as I made it farther up. Tired... The stars gleamed with their bright and menacing light. Ever since the exodus from the tribal lands happened, no more unicorns were selected for the death lottery in managing the celestial movements. That dark creature had gotten ahold of the night, and soon everything about it was exuding more power than anypony in the older generations of my youth could remember. The skies were alive, and for that, there could be no more appropriate response than awe for the glory of the day-sister and fear for the night. Silver light not quite of this world began to blend with my aura, causing my werelight to falter slightly. I just need to find a good perch on the mountain, so I might look down and see where my city is... my home... The last thing I saw was one of my knees begin to wobble, and I felt unsteadiness ripple through me. This was going to be bad for my arthritis. ... (3:57 am, 10th Lunar Hour) "Where... Need to get... higher ground? Mountain?" To reduce the wicked silence, I had started talking to myself. Unfortunately, the night had eaten away at my mind, and its evil energies had sapped my strength. The moon taunted me from behind clouds. The only words that left me were things I was feeling too slow and scrambled to unravel. Groggily, I shifted my aching body upward ignoring all its pops and cracks. I had to... cannot remember why... I... climb the mountain? Yes, indeed I had to. Why else had I been out here for hours, if not to climb the mountain at the heart of the world? Who else but I could take out the moon? There shall be no better spot to knock it from the sky's vault than from Canterhorn's summit. I began to grow a dim werelight to aid me in sight once more, though its glow was now paler than ever. Snatching up a few bits of fern to give me energy, I plodded along through the receding foliage and rocks. With my joints creaking like a tree in autumn, I slowly swung into action. Left. Right. Left. Other Left. Right. Huh? With a shake of my head, things began to clear slightly the antagonizing fog of night beginning to drift away. Based on the position of the moon — a disturbing orb of the cosmos resembling a large bone — the Elder Sister, would now be raising her sun. The Elder and Lesser Sisters were two creatures called 'Alicorns' who are immune to death, time, and most other mortal ailments. They even look like equines, but are filled with unfathomable power — it was to the point where even their manes are made into something no magic but their own can imitate. Unlike most other monsters, they could speak and live among the noble creatures that were ponykind. They did not have any kin, and for that, they were queerer. The need for dawn would force the Lesser Sister to end her night by lowering the moon, and mercifully ridding the world of its deathly face. They lived in an enchanted forest, untouched by time. It was not far from here, lying close to the foot of Canterhorn, though there were no towns or cottages nearby. I have never been there and do not plan on going anytime soon, not when civilization is clearly a pony-only gift, and those who shirk it do so for ill reasons. We ponies rarely saw them; it was not as if they lived in one of our Three Settlements: Canterlote, Clouds-Dale, and Hoofing's Towne. But I knew them, somewhat, and the Elder Sister visited our Three Settlements for parties and merriments. Celestia and Luna couldn't hide from me. They had different names then... When I knew them... Starswirl had called them Solara... and... something else... I can not seem to remember. Rule 76: You cannot hide from them. Rule 472: Your past is like one of the biles within the body; it will never go away. Rule 92: Never means never, Clover. The air had begun to grow slightly thinner, like breathing through parchment, yet I still could not find the werelights of Canterlote. Perhaps I merely was not at a proper height to enable me to see the city that captivates my essence. Were the disgusting darkness not here to mask all that is good in the world, I could see it! I could lay my eyes upon the city that I had a hoof in, the one that has been my life's work since the tribes unified! I, a mere servant, was able to stand alongside my great mistress as she ordered the lowest of slaves about when the stones were being mined, hewn, and dragged into place. My memory is dim, but there are few memories sweeter than that. Unable to retrace my steps, my steps continued. The moon must fall; it had to. How else was I to get home unless the dawn could come? Rule 67: Nopony will help you. A little while later I had recovered a slither of energy to canter. Age had made that particular gait wobbly for some time. The air was disappearing fast but I pushed onward as I drew in gasping breaths. I felt a sudden tug as my skirt caught on my hoof, as I fell face-forward, tumbling in the scree at an alarming rate as I rolled... downward?! Was any place downward? No, the moon was not there! I must go up! I was a flurry of limbs growing scrapped and pained, all with no way to stop myself. Oh, my horn! I felt it strike something, and the pain that followed, oh the pain! I think if lightning struck my head — my horn — all would hurt less! This pain, this pain! I have known nothing like it! Let Starswirl's hoof fall upon me again! May hunger once again claim my belly! Have the servant-master of the Unicorn Court punish me for a fumble! Platinum herself could spit upon me and strike me as she used to in her youth and it would hurt my body and soul less than this! Something was wrong with my horn! My horn caught on a rock, but my fall still continued and I felt something like my life, my blood, my passion... my magic, all being torn from me. All in one powerful, brittle crack. ... ( 5:46 am, Twelfth Lunar Hour) The golden light of dawn gently found its way to my eyes. Where am I? The thought was a whisper and a knife all at once, twisting and painful in how it sliced through me. Yet, it was quiet and slippery and all my thoughts felt dimmer and quickly leaving me. If I did not think, did not make a feeble attempt at life, they would fade fast — and doing those tasks was what was most difficult for me. Words hurt. Thoughts hurt. Soft, sweet mountain grasses greener than my mane were under me. Occasionally patches of crimson dotted the unearthly pristine nature, and I was too dizzy with the sensation of something worse than trepanning burning through my whole body I forgot something. Mine! All of that was mine! All around me night faded away as dawn came to be. My mysterious setting was revealed. I was upon a most fertile mountain pocket-valley, with tall lush grasses swaying in what smelled like a summer breeze located somewhere among the clouds untouched by pegasi, as many higher ones were. The air here was thin and icy; I did not wish to try and breathe it in. My chest hurt when I did, like I had been trampled on and kicked by a whole herd of Starswirl's and servant-keepers. My head was lighter, higher than air the longer I refused. Cool water could be heard in the distance if I worked past the roaring blood in my ears. Flowers dotted the stalks in a pattern I could not comprehend. At my hooves lay a jagged pink cornucopia of pain — such an awful feeling stirred in me at the sight. All I could ever know or forget was leaking out of me, nothing was clear anymore. Perhaps there was more blood too; my whole body was burning up that I would not know if I was bleeding more. At the sight of such a sorry thing, tears streaked down my battered face. My horn was broken... that could only mean one thing. There was a reason that the earth ponies could not keep unicorn captives as slaves. When they caught those of my race, they knew to drug us terribly, since there was no other way to cap our magic the way a pegasus merely needs their wings bound. Our soldiers and ponynapped civilians would be taken to the fields away from any war-camps and thrown in a hole, with their bodies tied and their mind robbed. Earth ponies knew nothing of the unicorn treasure of smithing then, but they had their might. Stones would be moved, and some were attached to sticks in crude sledgehammers — their greatest weapon. The skull... they would not stone us... they only ever targetted the skull. Without a horn... there is no magic... no matter the break-pattern... Every hammer was raised to one area on the head of a unicorn. All the stones were rolled towards the head. Each kick and buck, while not effective in breaking anything itself, contributed to the rest. If a unicorn smith was captured, all their saws would be dulled and broken trying to weaken the horn... before the shattering... I did not... I had no horn now... Our horns, which are greater than spines and hearts... My horn which is connected to the pulsing gray mess beneath my skull... The one that earth ponies dumped out before they buried their dead in the fields... They used it to lure pests like crows from their crops so that they might be culled... Us unicorns... Our horns were greater than eyes... We purified mountain water with them... It was a talent of our race... Starswirl and... other unicorns like him... Even the Alicorn beasts... said that gray thing 'twined with every unicorn's horn... was important... no matter how much they were mocked for such a stance... Long-long-long ago... when I was but a filly... Starswirl touched my gray head-sludge with magic... He said he picked around... as an experiment... The experiment became experiments... He touched my mind deeper than anything else... Again and again... He said he liked to move things and pick around... He started when I was seven winters old... ...or perhaps a little younger... ...I always let him... He told me it made me clever... That I was a good girl for letting him in my head... ...I started getting very forgetful after that... I could not get up. My leg was bent and uglier than I had any words for, even before this, except... broken. I promised that I wouldn't get eaten by monsters, and I had kept that promise. If I die now, I will never have to carry my memories... Of Starswirl... or anything... ...ever again. Rule 86: You are an atheist Clover, that will never change It shan't. My last remaining tears fell into the soft ground, further smudging my face with dirt. To me, they looked golden in the sun's light and ivory in the last of the moon's light. In the sky, a few rouge storm clouds had gathered. Voices of the wind filled the air, whistling and singing a song I did not know. It was beautiful. My eyes closed, and the last thing I remember before doing so, was that I was dreaming of paradise. Farewell, Platinum. Three days later, scouts finally found a trail of blood that led to a barren ravine. Inside was the broken-off form of a pink horn and a few scattered bones. No other remains were could be gathered beyond what torn cloth had protected from scavengers. It was assumed that some feral creature had snapped up an injured Clover. Promises are hard to keep, especially our last. Such were the murmurs among the guards when they heard of Clover the Clever's final promise. Curiously, the horn rested in a bed of unfamiliar flora, a lone survivor among the rocks and carcasses of its fellow plant brethren. It was a small grass, maybe? Or perhaps a magical herb? Nopony was quite sure of what kind of plant it was, or if it was native to the land. Unicorn herbalists were well-aware that sometimes wild magic wrought curious things, and that odd cross-pollination could occur through latent, rich enchantments. What could be gleaned by the unicorns and earth ponies was that the plant grew remarkably fast on next to nothing, and that it created springy beds. Three leaves sprouted from a normal stalk. Occasionally, some lucky foal would find a sprout with four leaves and chant the rhyme of all foalhood, a chant about the Four Apprentices of Starswirl the Bearded. 'First to be educated, was the one pony who never hated quiet, and good, she hid her unruly mane under a hood Next were the ageless sisters: one vain and fair, the other dark and sad When they left his valley both were grown and ready to be regalia-clad The last apprentice was quite mysterious with a twisted smile that was rarely serious' They called the plant 'Clover' after the mare who died for it to be known, and the clover it became long after the stanzas were swapped, dropped, and the rhyme was forgotten altogether.