The young mare eyed the top of the hill with longing in her eyes. Trees obscured her vision, but she knew she was close. She had been travelling since morning, after all, and her hooves were soaked to the bone. In fact, everything was soaked to the bone. She lowered her head and began moving again as the breeze picked up.
The trees began to part before her, and then she saw it. Despite her mood, she couldn't help but smile. The light, ice cold drizzle slid off and into Clover's hood as she trudged towards the tall, foreboding manor nestled in the trees before her. She had made her way along the morose and muddy footpath for hours, climbing uphill at a steady pace. She wondered all the while why the Grand Court Spellwriter felt the need to live so far out in the country, miles from any practical road.
She pulled her tattered brown cloak around her neck, trying to ward off the chill that permeated the air. Despite wishing she was nowhere near the house ahead, she found herself going even faster, driven by the hope of finding a warm house to take shelter in. As she trotted, she took note of a small vegetable patch outside the mansion: there were carrots and pumpkins, leeks and cauliflowers, and all of them were in miserable shape. The earthen footpath turned into a cobblestone patio as she got closer and closer, the only thing about the front garden that looked tended to.
It was probably easier for a 'Grand Spellwriter' to take care of a simple stone doorstep than a garden of living plants, she thought.
She ducked under the porch and rattled the door-knock, hoping that the stallion inside would answer as soon as possible. "Just let me in..." she muttered, desperate to get inside. "I'm freezing..." To her dismay, she couldn't hear any sign of her soon-to-be host coming to open the door. She knocked again, louder this time. "Sir Starswirl! Sir, are you there?!"
All of a sudden she heard one of the windows overhead snap open. She leaned back, blinking as the rain hit her eyes, but still able to make out the shape of a middle-aged pony wearing a tall, pointy hat, leaning from the window.
"Yes?!" he shouted back. "Do you have my ragwort?"
"I'm not a delivery filly!" Clover replied. "I'm... I'm the new student? Sent by the Queen?"
Starswirl slammed the window shut as fast as he had opened it. At first, Clover thought her teacher abandoned her to the elements, but to her relief she heard the sound of hoofsteps inside the house. After that, it didn't take long for the doors to open, revealing the her host. Starswirl grunted half-apologetically.
"Sorry, young lady... I was preoccupied with a spell: complex harmonic procedure."
No wonder he's a recluse, Clover thought. He can't even remember something as important as a new pupil...
Starswirl was a middle-aged pony of rather average build, with a medium brown coat topped by a darker brown mane, growing just the slightest bit grey around the edges. His tall pointy hat was the most elegant thing about him: it was grand and woven with golden threads in the shape of stars. It didn't take long for Clover to take note of one his most distinguishing feature: a small, but refined beard, sharp and spiky without being wild.
"And your name is...?" he began, as if it was a mere matter of curiosity.
"Clover."
"Nice to meet you. How about we adjourn to the library? I take it you like libraries."
Clover did, but that wasn't the point. There wouldn't be anything in that library of interest to her, and she wanted to make sure everypony knew it. Starswirl noted her sullen attitude and smirked.
"You're one of those, then," he began. Before he could finish, he began coughing violently, and stopped in his tracks, clutching his chest.
Despite being determined to be moody, Clover was brought up to help ponies when they were in pain, and had the training to do it too. She bent over to check the older pony was still breathing properly. "Are you alright, sir?"
"Yes, yes..." Star Swirl replied. "Just a case of the sniffles, I'm afraid... Weather has been getting colder and colder, these days."
He straightened himself up to his full height and waved Clover away when she didn't back off. "Oh, do relax, young lady... I'm still in the prime of my..." He hesitated. "...late forties..."
"I'm sorry, sir, it's just I've been taught medicine and—..."
"Yes, yes, yes, I imagine you have. Hasn't everypony, these days?"
Clover frowned, stung. "Actually, sir, they don’t. I learned it myself, and took home-schooling since I was eleven."
Starswirl grunted. "Well, aren't you clever." He trotted into the library, beckoning Clover to follow him. "Well, we'd better get properly introduced. I'm Starswirl, as you're no doubt aware. Some ponies call me 'bearded'. How old are you, young lady?"
"Fourteen, sir."
"Really? Typically, advisers are trained from a much younger age, and not by me."
"My brother was supposed to be the next adviser to Princess Platinum," Clover explained. "But he was forced to leave when he... disgraced the family."
The mere memory almost made the young mare wince... and not because it left her inheriting a position she didn't want. What really hurt was the fact that her family would send her brother away because of his choice of partner, even if she had been a pegasus. She frowned. By the looks of things, they had sent her away too.
"Ah, yes. I remember hearing about that," Starswirl muttered. "And ponies wonder why I live in the country... I wasn't made to play politics."
"You probably made the right choice, sir."
The older stallion sat down in a comfortable and well-used armchair, putting his hooves together as he thought. Almost as if by magic, his eyes went from dull and tired to hard and piercing. "This may be difficult to believe, but I was young myself, once... and I can recognize a reluctant filly when I see one."
Clover noticed him check her cutie mark, his sneaky eyes almost too quick to notice. "Yes, it's a four leaf clover," she told him defiantly. "What of it?"
"Don't you want to be adviser to the Queen?" Starswirl asked. "It's a very important position, after all."
"Yes, so my mother keeps telling me," Clover replied, rolling her eyes. "You know, you might not be able to tell from my cutie mark, but it's got nothing to do with magic." She scowled. "I hate magic."
Starswirl gave Clover a deadly serious stare from under his wide brimmed hat. "And what would you rather do with your life? You're a unicorn: magic is a part of you, whether you want it or not."
Clover paced around the room, feeling her pent-up frustration reach a critical point. "I'm always told what an important destiny I have: to help guide the princess, help her at summits, be a voice of reason..." She eyed Starswirl, mustering as much defiance as she could against her new warden. "Have hundreds of ponies listening to me, and have a critical position in the nation's hierarchy. But all I wanted was to be a gardener." She gestured at her cutie mark. "I like plants, and life. Not politics."
Starswirl remained silent for a moment. Clover worried that he might be casting some spell... Perhaps a mind-reading spell, she wondered, starting to panic. Was he going to wipe her memory? She had heard of powerful unicorns doing that, sometimes, and Starswirl was nothing if not powerful.
"Young lady," the old stallion replied, "We don't have time to entertain foalish fantasies: we must tend to reality. You will leave here with a decent education, whatever ambitions you have previously entertained."
Clover almost flinched as if slapped: she hadn't expected such a blunt comeback from the older stallion. She felt like arguing: she didn't want to let the old mule have his way. But then she remembered who she was dealing with: the most knowledgeable pony in matters of magic the world had seen. It would not be clever to antagonize him.
She hung her head in defeat.
"Y-yes, sir."
Starswirl exhaled, and gestured off towards the door. "Your room is upstairs, first door on your left. I'll have dinner ready in an hour: be there or be hungry. We'll discuss your learning schedule then."
Clover tossed her meagre possessions on the floor, and hung her cloak up on the wall before shaking herself dry. It was then that the reality of her situation hit her: she would be trapped in this tiny room for years.
She sat down on her bed with a dull thump. The memory of getting her cutie mark in the first place seemed so very distant. It was the greatest feeling a pony could have: doing the thing you wanted to pursue and learn for the rest of your life. Of course it had been too good to be true. Instead of being a gift, it was just another curse, just like her power-hungry family and her prison of a destiny.
Clover lay down on her bed, testing the mattress springs. She decided to close her eyes until Starswirl had dinner made... after all, it wasn't like he'd want her around.
"That makes two of us," she muttered, and shut her eyes.
It occurred to her that Starswirl probably just wanted to be left alone. Getting an apprentice forced on him was the last thing he'd have wanted. No wonder he was grumpy. She considered that perhaps he was trying to get her to quit, to leave him alone so he could continue his experiments in peace.
There was a small bookshelf resting against the far wall, covered in books. The whole house had been filled with books. Clover wondered how many of them had Starswirls name written on the cover. A dozen? A hundred? How was she supposed to compete, or even simply keep up with somepony of his intellectual calibre? He was destined to change the world with his spells. She just had a talent for trimming leaves. How was she supposed to learn anything about magic? She neither had the skill-set or the motivation.
After a long time spent organizing her thoughts, she took a deep breath and got to her hooves. She didn't want to spend the night hungry, after all.
She cantered down the stairs, finding the kitchen in no time. The smell was overwhelming, and not in a good way.
Starswirl was still wearing his hat, but had also thrown on an apron, as though under the impression it might make his food taste better. Given that all Clover could smell was burned vegetables, it hadn't worked.
From the corner of the room, sitting on an elegant perch, was a decrepit looking bird, eyeing Starswirl mockingly.
"Are... are those carrots?" Clover asked him. She wondered if those were vegetables he had grown himself: she wasn't sure she wanted to digest the sorry looking things she had seen growing outside.
"Yes, they are," he replied, a little testily. "Don't look so squeamish: I'm a spellwriter, not a cook."
He scraped the contents of the pan and some cutlery onto two plates.
"Well? Better sit down. We have a lot to talk about."
Clover swallowed, and then obliged. The bird lazily glided over to Starswirl, before perching on the top of his hat. Ignoring his precariously balanced pet, Starswirl began eating. Clover followed suit whilst waiting for him to begin probing her with awkward questions about her studies.
"You said you liked plants."
Clover hesitated before nodding, surprised. "Y-yes, sir."
"I see. How much did you learn at school? Arithmetic, languages..."
Clover put her fork down.
"I'm familiar with mathematics, alchemy, medicine..."
"Mmh. No spellcasting courses, then?"
"Just a few. Levitation..."
"Elderwood's formula?"
"Yes," Clover replied, tossing another disgusting carrot into her mouth.
Starswirl grunted. "Mine is better."
Clover swallowed. "Elderwood's is simpler," she argued. Starswirl replied by grunting, then eating. The bird's head fell to one side, still perched on Starswirl's hat.
"What's with that... bird?" Clover asked. Starswirl looked up at the dying creature, as if seeing it for the first time.
"Oh, her? She's an old friend of mine. Sometimes, you need a companion who'll stick with you forever," he said with a smile. "Isn't that right, Philomena?"
The bird did not answer. Starswirl grunted. "Hrmph. She's just going through a phase. She'll be better in about a week."
Clover bit her lip. "Sir... I know I don't have any real skills at magic..."
"Nonsense, girl. You said you learned alchemy."
Clover ignored his kind rebuttal; he was just taking pity on her. "Sir, that's not the same. I never practiced magic, not really." She put her hoof down on the table. "I shouldn't be here."
Almost instantly, Starswirl's eyes became hard again. Even Philomena paid attention all of a sudden. "Young lady, by rights, I shouldn't be here either," he said, becoming strangely sad. "Cutie marks are a strange thing. They tell us what our heart desires most, and show us where our minds are best applied. But they don't always give us the easiest paths to follow."
Slowly, Starswirl removed his hat, letting his grayish dark mane flow freely for the first time that evening. But it wasn't his mane that attracted Clover's attention— It was his forehead. His smooth, hornless forehead.
"My cutie mark told me I was destined to be a wizard... despite being an Earth Pony."
Clover took a minute to stare at her host, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her.
They weren't.
"Wh-what?" Clover stuttered, at a loss for words. "But you're... Starswirl! You're the greatest spellwriter in the world! Everypony has heard of you and your work!"
Starswirl nodded. "Yes, quite true. I am the greatest spellwriter... but only a few creatures can cast spells, and I do not number among them." He put his hooves together, in the same manner he had when he had studied her in his armchair. "And it seems fitting that a pony unable to practice his passion should be the one to teach a filly who's in a similar predicament, correct?" He gave Clover a look. "I've selected a few books I want you to investigate: I've set them on the table in the library. Do give them a read before the end of the evening, would you?"
Clover's brow furrowed, and after getting up, trotted back towards the library, leaving the old Earth Pony on his own with his pet bird.
As he had promised, there were three large and heavy looking books resting on the table next to a reading candle. Clover picked the one on the top up with magic and read its title.
"...Earthbound's Treatise on Horticultural Thaumaturgy..." she read, a smile beginning to play her lips as she realized Starswirls intent. Picking the books up, she rushed back to the kitchen, where Starswirl was force-feeding Philomena her dinner.
"Sir, I..." she began, unable to speak without stuttering. "Thank you!"
"Yes, yes, I imagine you are rather happy, aren't you," Starswirl replied, smug. "Well, it still won't be easy, young lady. In fact, it'll be about as easy as me studying magic without a horn." He gave Clover a wry smile. "Now, get reading. We'll be tending to my front lawn first thing tomorrow." He grunted. "The weeds have gotten completely out of control."
The first day of training went by too fast for Clover to notice. Despite having plenty of knowledge on plants and how to grow them, she found applying that knowledge to magic was difficult. It was like curling into a ball and rolling down a hill after observing a car. It was a completely different thing altogether despite sharing the same theory. Starswirl was not the most patient of teachers, either, but always stopped short of getting too frustrated with his young charge.
"You're not thinking about it hard enough," he'd say. "Whoever told you magic is supposed to flow naturally was a two-faced liar. It's thought, not instinct. It's not just some force you can will into being."
After hours of practising, and dozens of failed subjects, Clover was finally able to make her blade of grass grow an inch. Starswirl smiled behind his beard, and gave her a pat on the back, before collapsing in coughing fit.
"S-sir!"
Starswirl waved her away, frustrated. "Don't bother, girl! I'm in the prime of my... nevermind, let's just go inside. An inch of grass is enough for today."
The pair trotted back inside the mansion, Starswirl grumbling as he went. "It's the weather, I tell you. Getting colder all the time..."
Once they were back indoors, Starswirl sat himself down. Philomena eyed him suspiciously. Clover decided to break the awkward silence.
"Sir... have you ever tried to do magic... without using a horn?"
Starswirl chewed the inside of his cheek, pensively. "Well... there are ways. There are a few ways, actually. There's something in... well, cutie mark magic."
Clover watched as he picked a packet of scrolls up from his desk, and began rummaging through them. "I've been working on a spell, recently... like cutie mark magic, it's based on things 'clicking'. You know, that sensation where all is right in the world?"
Clover slowly nodded. "Yes... Like when I got my mark."
"That's exactly what I mean. My only issue is, I can't get that feeling to work again. If I could... well, it's a moot point." He put the papers to the side. "It can't be done."
Clover looked down at her hooves, downcast. "Is there no other way?"
"A few, but they're all dangerous, and unethical, too," he replied. "I'll not have anything to do with them."
He eyed Clover again, his gaze as piercing as ever. "Why do you care about all that, anyways? It's highly theoretical, and given our current schedule, it'll never be your concern."
"Well, sir, you went out of your way to help me do what I was destined to do. I... I suppose I was trying to return the favour." She shrugged. "It's nice to at least think I'll end up being of consequence."
"I'm sorry?"
Clover shrugged. "Well, at the end, I'll still only be a gardener. Just with magic, not trowels and water-cans."
The old stallion sunk into his chair. "I've been studying cutie-marks for a long time, now," he began. "They're the source of our magic, and are both binding and liberating. But they can be tricked." He pointed to his flank. "This old thing is getting a fair bit of use even though I can't even levitate a fork. And so will yours."
"I don't understand."
"Young l—... Clover, I'm already doing what I'm destined to be doing: studying the art of magic and sharing my knowledge with the world. And besides, gardening isn't your destiny." He smiled, forcing back another coughing fit before continuing. "If there's one last thing I know, it's you're meant for great things: greater than writing a few spells that'll be forgotten in a few years, at least. A nation needs as much nurture and growth as any bush or flower, and I'm certain you'll be up to the task."
He paused, and eyed his notes again. Shaking his head, as if dismissing an idea, he continued. "You just need to be shown the way a little."
Clover stammered, her throat utterly clogged up. Starswirl harrumphed, as if returning to his senses.
"Goodness, how I ramble. Get your books and get reading: there will be more of the same tomorrow. I'll also throw in mathematics for good measure, and I'm afraid I couldn't find a way to make those relevant to your interests."
Clover smiled as she trotted out of the study. "That's fine, Sir Starswirl. I'll survive!"
Right then, Clover couldn't imagine herself being anywhere else.
Once his new student had cantered off, Starswirl finally allowed himself to relax.
"That makes one of us," he muttered darkly. He looked back at his notes. "Odd. I didn't think I'd have felt this way again. Perhaps there is something in this 'harmony' theory I had..." He picked the pile of paper up and browsed through them, his old eyes having difficulty picking up the small writing. "What was that feeling, again? How did it work?"
He sat in silence. He heard Clover moving around upstairs. He hadn't had anypony living in the same building as him in years. It felt unfamiliar and unnatural... but not bad. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, and put his notes to the side. "Hopefully I'll have enough time to see it through. I have a student to tend to first."
Author's Note
I figured I'd best shove some Starswirl headcannon in everyone's faces before season 5 probably slaps me in the face with what really went down. And also throw a few cutie mark related thoughts up in the air for good measure. And hopefully tell a nice story of a teacher and student learning to coexist and appreciate their situations. That's my number one objective, here, and I hope it got across.
Please comment with criticism, or just tell me how brilliant I am (I always need reminding). On the flipside, don't hesitate to knock me down a peg or two: sometimes I get this little thing called an 'ego'. And if you liked the story, please please please upvote! I really liked writing this, and I'd love for as many people as possible to read it too.
