The Field of Clovers

by That One Strange Fellow

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Clover the Clever, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1597

In a long forgotten time, a mare made a climb. Mysteries lay ahead, yet she traveled the path few tread.

A story older than Gusty the Great and Emperor Grogar, one read only to foals by a few parents. Bored and with nothing interesting to do, a young filly finds a story that seems too familiar.

Experimenting with rhyming and poetry. Since it got approved via manual submission, I can only assume the dark reference in chapter one is alright.

Published 2023-01-22 21:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-01-22 21:50:01 UTC

To Wield the Leftovers

The torch crackling filled the air, illuminating the cozy stone walls and bookshelves of the family study. Clover put down the storybook and rubbed her eyes of the crusts that built up. What time was it? The sun had fallen hours ago, yet she remained as awake as ever. If her parents weren’t away on business, she’d go wake them up, if only to give something to do.

As she got up from the floor, she stretched her legs out to remove the cramps in her muscles. The city lacked danger at night as long as one knew how to navigate it. Perhaps a walk would do her good.

She grabbed her cloak from the rack beside the door before leaving into the chilling autumn breeze. Crystal lanterns hung from the stone homes on her street, giving plenty of pale blue light to see. Clover took off running, darting from her street and to the first of many alleyways. A peek around the corner showed no ponies in sight, hooves moving to take her further away.

The great unicorn city of Cantzertrot, built against a lone mountain by the same name. Her home, a stony fortress renowned for its defensibility. Hoof-prints remained concealed by the winds blowing down the streets, what powered snow displaced by her travels being swept away within seconds. Every year seemed to get colder, every harvest season less food on the table. There was talk of rationing, of a coming winter that would never end. While the weather got colder, winter never ending was a bit much.

She peeked around the next corner, seeing a single cloaked stallion walking toward her. A guard in disguise? A vile criminal seeking prey? In either case, she kept behind a market stall, waiting for the pony to pass. Their hoofsteps got closer until they stopped, Clover holding her breath. Seconds ticked by, a tense silence between them. Did they–

“I know you’re there. I saw you peek around the corner.”

At first, she kept silent. Hopefully, they would- “Yes, you, behind the stall.“ She let out her breath and stepped into the open from the wooden market stall she was behind. The stallion was an older one, their purple fur and mane concealed by the hood and cloak. Still, Clover eyed them with curiosity. Was there a shimmer around them?

“What is a filly so young doing out this late? You should get home. It isn’t safe to be traveling these streets in the dark.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I-I wanted to go for a walk.”

“Hmph. If your parents had any sense, they’d teach you about the dangers of the world. Now go.” He pointed his hoof back down the street she came.

She turned and ran, turning into an alleyway before stopping to catch her breath. Her heart pounded in her ears, hooves covering her mouth. That was too close. Did he really see her peek around the corner? Why was he sparkling? Wait! She looked back down the street, making her way back to the corner to check the other way, seeing the stallion enter an alley. Clover made her way over, hearing two ponies whispering around the corner.

Was that a criminal? Why did he let her go?

Her curiosity got the best of her, moving closer to the corner. As she got too close enough to make out the words, her hoof caught on a rotten fruit somepony discarded, along with the accompanying *squish*. The two went silent, Clover pulling in another breath as she backed up with careful steps.

As she turned to run, a flash of light blinded her eyes, her body being lifted into the air. “Of course you followed me.”

She reopened them to see he had carried her into the alleyway, the pink and red unicorn they were speaking to stepping closer to the stallion.

“What will you do with her? If she overheard–“

“If she heard, I will deal with her on my own. Was there anything more that can’t wait?”

“No. I’ll speak to my friends again. I hope we can come to an arrangement before the winters get too bad.”

“Wonderful.” The other unicorn left the alley, checking both ways before darting out, leaving the original stallion to turn to the filly trapped in his magic. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, filly?”

“I-I’m s-sorry I interrupted...”

“And the eavesdropping? What of that?”

“I-I guess I’m sorry for that too. I-I didn’t hear anything. Honest.”

They set Clover back onto the ground, turning around to walk back the way they came. “W-Wait! Why are you so sparkly?”

The stallion stopped and turned his head back. “You’re imagining it.”

“N-No I’m not! You got sparkles all over you!”

He breathed in a deep breath, turning around and returning to her, kneeling down to get to eye level. The green of his eyes shifted ever so much. “A-Are you using a disguise? Your eyes are blue, not green.”

“You’re an observant and clever one, little filly. What is your name?”

“Um, C-Clover. My name is Clover Fall.”

“Do your parents know you are outside harassing strangers?”

“T-They aren’t home...” She rubbed her foreleg, turning toward the ground. “I-I am sorry, sir.”

“Hmph. Sorry doesn’t cut it. Tell me, Clover, how much do you know about magic?”

“A b-bit.” She lit her horn and floated a broken clock from the garbage pile behind her, holding it up for him. “L-Like, I can levitate things.”

His eyes stayed on the clock. 2:19, the time bringing a small smile to his face. The odds said it was random, but given he left at 2 AM exactly, the time wasn’t a surprise. “Tell me, do you enjoy magic? Is it something you wish to learn?”

“I-I... Y-Yeah, um, my mom always said I’d be a known wizard one day.”

He stood back up tall. “Please, lead me back to your home so I can write a note for your parents. I feel you have the aptitude for great things, given the right environment. If you would like, I would like to take you as my apprentice.”

“W-What?” Her eyes widened, his horn igniting with a light gray glow as the illusion dropped to show his gray fur and long white beard.

“Shall we?” He motioned down the alley, her nodding and trotting up next to him to lead them back to her home. “So, Clover the Clever, have you ever read a story by the name of ‘The Field of Clovers’?”

The Field of Clovers

Within a grand field, a mare did once yield. She knelt to the ground, a weed most peculiar felt. A clover unremarkable her eyes did glaze over. A single leaf, split asunder, was this clover in grief of some sort of blunder? Her hooves drew her outward bound to a patch of barren ground. The forest was near, a single stone cracked clear.

Her trail took her far, a special tale waiting under the star. Her trek encountered a home, a wreck of a place did her hooves roam. Upon the wall laid a scrawl: ‘Beware the lavender mark! For the tomb only brings doom!’ A peculiar spark, for it behooves one to see written, yet the key has yet to be fit in. Did she follow the arrow, finding a path long and narrow. Her great stride took her beyond, to a village on one side.

‘What a merry bond a pony could hold!’ For at the center was a fruit tree, bright and bold. As all ponies did scurry, did cheer fill the air, with worry neither here nor there. At the corner of her eye did she spy a mark of violet, alone on an islet. To this valley she went, balking at the scent. Upon opening this crate, did the message seem to be fate. For within was a pest, squirm in their fest, yet she would be there to cleanse their ferm.

Out did she travel, calling to those along the gravel. ‘A great plague festers within the craig! Come to the lavender hue! Help your fellow few!’

Many did gather to pull out the spoil to slather in a slick oil. With a spark did it ignite, putting an end to a near plight. ‘Thank you kindly, clever stranger, but how did you learn of this danger?’

‘In a field not far from home did I roam, a broken clover did I check over.’

‘Praise to you, Clover the Clever! May your path stay true and hooves take you wherever! For you are our kin! Please, do join us in celebration, for without your narration we would never begin!’

‘It is of no concern, the forests and fields I yearn.’

Begone was the one of cheer, passing through the woods she held dear. Further beyond did her move take her until a groove in the soil made her roil. To a field of clovers did she go, her pace careful and slow.

Clover the Clever at once tumbled over. In the haste did she find herself cased. Within nothing but stone, she laughed at what she had sown, a journey married to the known. Her body never found buried deep beneath the ground, within a long forgotten mound. Yet, it is said she will return, to once more learn and discern. That in due time, she would hear this rhyme and respond to the chime.

As the hunt is her treasure, Clover the Clever was never one to rest forever.