The Misfortune of Clover the Clever

Clover awoke the next day in a cold sweat. His body felt heavy, his throat felt dry, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he had been doing the night before. He had a sinking suspicion that he was forgetting something or that he had just escaped from a particularly bad dream, but try as he might, he couldn't remember what it was.

He pushed himself up, or or at least he tried to. Any movement left him with an uncomfortable stretching sensation over his entire body. He looked down at his torso, only to find white cloth wrapped tightly around his body.

That's just great, the unicorn found himself thinking. It looks like he had forgotten to take off his toga before going to bed. He hadn't done that in a long time. However, it did provide some explanation for what had happened. His friend, Pyrus, had probably partied a little too hard, and Clover had found himself dragged into his shenanigans while trying to keep him from hurting himself. He shouldn't be too surprised. They did just go and raise the sun for the first time after all. Pyrus probably had some sort of epic afterparty planned. Of this, Clover had no doubt.

Wait a moment, though. Didn't he have his own plans for after the sunrise? He was sure he did. Clover lay there, staring at the ceiling, while he tried to remember. The effort brought about a dull throbbing in his skull that made him furrow his brow. At least now he knew why he was having trouble remembering. Fortunately, hangovers had a very easy spell for sorting them out.

Or at least, it should have been an easy spell. As Clover reached inside for his magic, his headache only grew worse. A sharp spike of pain drove its way into his skull, centered from where his horn should be. His thoughts quickly became scrambled as overwhelming heat began running down his spine. Far from the most pleasant sensation, it was like someone was holding a hot iron to his back without the searing smell that came with it. Through the building agony, some clarity began making its way to the forefront of his mind.

Clover shot up from his bed, all while trying to ignore the pain that continued to get worse. He wrapped his bandaged forelegs around himself, for now he recognized them for what they were. His eyes darted around as the memories that had been so thoroughly burned into his soul resurfaced. It had started off so well. He and the other unicorns were the pride of their tribe, at the center of everyone's attention, and everything had been going so well. That was before the fire started.

He didn't want to believe any of it had been real, but everything had been too vivid, too mortifying, and far too painful to be dismissed by an overactive imagination. The flames had been voraciously consuming his classmates without any sign of stopping, but the thing that stuck out in his mind and refused to leave him alone, was the look he had seen in Pyrus' unwavering gaze.

Something had been in the sun, something that had been calling to him, or maybe that was just the sun itself. Clover couldn't really be sure what he had seen reflected in those blazing orbs that had replaced the eyes of his closest friend, but whatever it was, it was too much. It was far more than what could be contained by any one pony. It needed him. It needed all of them. It had shared its light with them so they could help it burn ever brighter.

The sun called to him. He couldn't see it where he was now, but still it called to him. He needed to join with it. Add his own fuel to the fire. He couldn't stay here. This room was too small. Far too small a space to contain the radiant presence that was reaching out to him. And it was getting smaller by the moment.

Panic quickly wrapped itself around the young unicorn as he sought any means of escape. He needed to get outside. He needed to see the sky. He needed to see the sun. He fell from the bed in a heap, and then thrashed about as he fought to free himself from the mess of sheets.

Once free, he scrambled back to his hooves, stumbling slightly as he touched the ground. The strain on his legs making it difficult to hold himself upright as he sought his escape. After a moment of searching, he saw the barest hint of sunlight stealing out from the cracks of a nearby door. He pushed forward, nothing else mattering except getting closer to the source of that light.

Clover shoved the door out of his way, refusing to let anything stand in his way, and look out into the room beyond. There was light here, but still not enough. He needed more. He ran through the space beyond, reveling in the increased illumination. However, the further he went, the more the shadows also began to grow as they moved in to smother him.

What were those things? Did it matter? All he knew is that they weren't light and they were standing in his way from getting to the light. He bucked and kicked at any that grew too close, refusing to let them smother him with their presence. Somehow, despite their overwhelming numbers, he still managed to push his way through, until he finally found what he was looking for.

The sun. He basked in the light that radiated from above and he finally felt at ease. It welcomed him into its arms as it wrapped him in its heat and warmth. He had found the peace he was looking for. Even when fresh pain began to tear through his body as it began to smolder, he delighted in the radiance of the sun.

Shouting and angry voices were all around him, but they were to be ignored. None of it mattered, not even those shadows that clung to him as the light claimed what was its right.

However, that changed as one particular shadow wrapped itself around Clover's neck. He intended to ignore it, like the rest, but something about this one seemed... familiar. He couldn't make out its form, but its scent... its smell itched at the deep recesses of his mind, the smell of mint and honey.

There had been something he was looking forward to, something he had been trying to remember when he first woke up, or more specifically, someone.

That someone clung to him now, indiscernible from the rest of the shadows if not for the scent. The small part of himself that didn't wish to burn, and had gone ignored until now, started to assert itself as memories of that warm smile fought for dominance, refusing to let go without being acknowledged.

The malignant burning of the sun began to withdraw as his attention was pulled away by this other presence. As he saw it for what it was, his vision started to clear, and as clarity returned to his world, he finally recognized the pony wrapped tightly around his neck.

The teary pink eyes of Azalea looked back into his own, calming his heart and finally extinguishing the fire that sought to claim what remained of his life. It was then that Clover realized how tired he really was. The strength he had managed to summon now leaving him as darkness claimed him once again.

The next time Clover was aware of the world around him, he wasn't alone. He was back in the same bed he found himself when he first awoke, but this time there were voices arguing from the other side of the room. He wanted to push himself up so he could see who was making all the noise, but that's when he noticed Azalea resting her head on the side of the bed.

"Azalea..." he said weakly. His voice felt raw and even the slightest movements evoked protests from his entire body.

While he hadn't spoken that loud, it had apparently been enough. One of the young mare's ears twitched and she turned her head to look at him. She must not have believed he had spoke at first, but when she saw him looking back at her, she broke out into tears.

It took some effort, and no small amount of discomfort, but Clover managed to lift one of his hooves enough before bringing it down to rest on the foreleg of the sobbing pony. Her tears had apparently also been enough to draw the attention of the others in the room, because the next thing he knew, he found the three elders watching him from the foot of the bed with various ranges of sympathy on their faces.

"It... it wasn't a dream, was it?" He asked, dreading the obvious truth.

"I'm afraid not," Elder Gladiolus shook his head. "We're still not sure what happened, but you all seem to have lost control of the ritual. In all my years, I've never seen a spell rebound that badly before."

"What about everypony else?" Clover asked. Part of him was afraid to ask, but he needed to know.

Gladiolus' face fell. Being the one that young ponies tended to seek for counsel, it made sense that he'd be the one who ended up breaking the news. However, that didn't make things any easier. "Everypony else is dead," he said regretfully. "Those that fortunate enough to survive the incident itself either died in their sleep, or stared into the sun until they burned up. Like you almost did."

The confirmation hit Clover like a kick in the gut. He already suspected there were casualties, but everyone? "And Pyrus?" He wasn't sure why he bothered asking. If his own memory was to be believed, then there was no way he survived.

"We never should've trusted that delinquent with such an important role," Elder Dahlia harrumphed. "Not even the ashes of that fool remain after that mess."

"Elder Dahlia." Elder Lily's voice was firm, but the ire clear was in her voice. "I will not have you speaking ill of the dead. Do not forget that he was close with our young friend here."

"But Elder," Dahlia continued unhindered. "How can you say that after you yourself were so badly burned?! And for what? Just so you could the life of a pony who will probably never use magic again?!"

Lily let out a tired breath. "I told you before, it was my choice to make," she said as she was clearly favoring one hoof over the other. The one she kept her weight off of seemed to be tightly bound with the same cloth Clover had wrapping his entire body. "And it's a sacrifice I will happily make again if it saves even a single life. Now, not another word on the subject. Have I made myself clear?"

"But..." Dahlia attempted to continue.

But Lily wasn't having it. "Have I made myself clear?" She clearly considered the matter closed.

Clover had mostly stopped listening by this point. Something they said had thoroughly latched onto him. Once there, it weighed on him as it threatened to drag him down. He was the only one left. Why was he the only one to survive? Despite how warm the room was, he still felt a chill run down his spine, and it didn't feel like it was going to leave him anytime soon.

The only comfort he found was in the girl by his side. Her eyes were red from her tears, and she appeared to have worn herself out, but still she found a way to share her strength. "Are you going to be alright, Clover?" Azalea asked with concern.

How had everything taken such a sharp turn for the worse? It felt like it was just yesterday that the biggest things he had to worry about was keeping up on his studies and wondering if the cute girl in the corner would ever notice him. How was anyone expected to cope with this? What exactly was he supposed to do?

"I don't know," he said as he trembled. "I'm not sure about anything anymore."

"Don't you worry," she said as she pulled him close. "We're going to help you figure it out."

Their moment was interrupted by Elder Gladiolus clearing his throat. "I am sorry to bother you, Clover," he said. "But it's important we know. Was there anything about the sunrise that seemed out of place? Anything at all. We've had our best scribes looking over the dais for days now, but it was damaged beyond repair."

The other two concluded their disagreement when the old stallion began talking. It apparently had been a point of contention among them and they were all eager to have some answers.

"I... I don't know what to tell you," Clover said as he swallowed hard. The unexpected attention was making him nervous. "It was just like what the older students told us. When we connected to the sun, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride, but..." He strained his memory. He didn't really want to remember that sensation, despite how enticing it was, but the three most important ponies in the city wanted to know, and were willing to put up with each other to find some answers. "But when we finally felt its light on our faces, it was incredible. It's hard to describe. It was like we had already caught fire, even before it actually happened. The light, it was hungry... powerful. It wanted to draw us in. It was like... it was like..."

"Like you were touching the breath of life, itself?" Elder Lily finished for him.

"Yeah," Clover nodded eagerly along. "It was kinda like that," he said.

"Then it is as we feared," Lily sighed in resignation. "We have records of this 'sun sickness' as it used to be called, but I've never heard of anypony ever dying from it."

"If I'm not mistaken," said Gladiolus. "The ritual dais was specifically designed to help protect the minds of young ponies from being influenced too heavily."

"It is," agreed Dahlia as she appeared to be thinking something over. "You don't suppose it could've been sabotage, do you?"

Four sets of eyes, plus that of the nurse who was on duty, looked back at the elder with stunned silence. It was Gladiolus who broke the silence first. "What are you saying?! That one of our own would orchestrate the deaths of so many?"

"Not a unicorn," she said in response. "But it wouldn't be too hard for a pegasus to slip in and damage the dais in the middle of the night. The guard has been a bit lax as of late."

"And how would a pegasus be able to mess up the sunrise circle? And what would they have to gain by doing that?" Gladiolus retorted.

"Think about it," she continued pointedly. "There's no way the other tribes won't have noticed that something happened, the sun got far brighter than normal that day, and the next summit is barely a fortnight away. The other tribes might not be as wise as us, but they're not complete fools. They'll use every advantage they can to lessen our position."

"That's enough of that," Elder Lily said curtly as she took hold of the conversation. "Elder Dahlia," she said firmly without raising her voice any further. "I don't know what you think you're trying to accomplish, but please don't make such incendiary comments about our allies." She lifted her eyes to stare back at Dahlia, and even though she hadn't raised her voice, all it took was a single look from the ancient mare to cause her to recoil sharply.

"Now. Azalea, dear," Lily said, softening her expression as she turned back to the two young ponies, "can I count on you to look after our young friend here? I heard you played a large part in saving him earlier today."

"Me?!" Azalea seemed to be caught a bit off guard as her eyes darted back and forth between her mother and the eldest mare. It didn't last long, but she eventually bowed her head in respectful affirmation. "As you wish, Elder," she said at last.

"Respected Elder," Dahlia huffed. "I am sorry, but I must object. No good can come from my daughter continuing to associate with this broken pony."

"I disagree," Lily said simply, brokering no room for argument. "It was by her and her actions alone that anypony survived at all, and I won't jeopardize that." She stepped up beside the bed and placed her burned and bandaged hoof on Clover's head. A gesture that probably brought her great pain, even if she refused to show it.

"What's going to happen to me?" Clover couldn't help but ask, his own future seeming more uncertain than ever.

Elder Lily smiled gently back at him. "That'll be for you to decide," she said. "I'm not going to pretend it'll be easy, but as long as you are still alive, there will always be possibilities."