A cloaked figure trudged down the wet gravel path, her hooves sinking slightly into the sludge. Before her stood a cold stone fortress, set into the side of a dusty hill. It sat in complete darkness, distinguished from the twilight only by a torch burning at the gate of its stone perimeter and its massive silhouette. The figure trotted with desperate purpose to face the overbearing gate, which stood silently as a malevolent boundary of wood and bronze. The fierce wind bit at her muzzle; the cold seemed to be overbearing of late. She hesitated, shaking from the gravity of the situation before her, or perhaps just the unseasonal chill.

She looked up at the enormous gate, the fire of torches on the interior seeping through small cracks and giving the illusion of hellfire on the other side. She steeled herself, remembering the importance of what she was there to do.

“Hello?” she called out with a shaking voice. A wooden slot slammed back, and she felt a pair of eyes glaring through it.

“Who goes there?”

“I wish to speak to the officer of the watch.”

“This is he. What do you want?”

“It’s me—Clover.”

The gruff tone of the guardpony relaxed. “About damn time you showed up. I’m taking a big risk, you know. You have the money?”

“Y-yes,” Clover replied, “Let me in and I’ll give it to you.”

The guard hesitated. “Alright, but hurry up about it.”

The guard opened the towering wooden gate just wide enough for Clover to squeeze through. She glanced at him as she entered, ensuring it was the same one that Princess Platinum told her about—brown unicorn stallion, hoplite spear cutie mark. He struck a match in his muzzle and lit a torch hanging from a bracket near the gate.

“This better not be a bucking trick,” he growled, “I’m staking my life on this. If it wasn’t Princess Platinum herself that approached me…”

“I promise you, it’s not a trick. Look, here’s the money.” Clover fished a large bag of silver from her saddlebags, and dropped it by the guard’s hooves. “Look, three-hundred tetradrachm, as promised. Have you kept up your end of the bargain?”

The guard scooped up the bag of silver and tucked it away. “Yeah, the rest of the guards have passed out on wine laced with the drug you sent me. They’ll live, right?”

“Absolutely. They’ll be very hungover in the morning, however.”

“Good enough. Grab the torch, let’s get this over with. I’m going to move quickly, so try to keep up.”

Clover levitated the lit torch in her magic and followed the guard pony into the dark of the ancient prison. They passed through more sets of massive gates, their chains already unlocked and open. The guard galloped quickly ahead, flying through the dark before her, navigating the catacombs through memory. Clover had to sprint to keep up with him, torch waving haphazardly in her magical grasp.

She tried to remember the path that they took. Right turn…left…straight…straight…second stairwell… However, it was impossible. The entire complex was set up like a maze, likely to keep prisoners in and rescuers out. They rushed by many cells, the unfortunate inhabitants reaching out at her, begging for freedom, or food, or a kind word. Clover almost stopped as a mare reached a dirty hoof spotted with leprosy out at her, asking for news of her only foal, before the guard gruffly shouted at her to continue. They twisted through the mass of stone, bronze and begging ponies, deeper and deeper into the darkness. In what seemed like the darkest depths of the prison, surely a floor above Tartarus itself, the guard stopped in front of an ancient wooden door. Clover scooted to a halt, panting heavily.

“This is the cell,” the guard informed, “You know the way back, right?”

“No! I can’t… I need you to guide us. He’s very ill.”

“I wasn’t paid enough to be seen with you…” the guard grumbled.

“Please, just wait for us. I’ll make sure Princess Platinum pays you extra.”

“Ugh… Very well. But hurry up about it. Here’s the key.”

Clover took the twisted bronze key out of the guard’s magical grasp. With a deep breath, she plunged it into the lock of the door before them. She thrust it open and leaped inside the cell, illuminating every corner of the cell in desperate search for the one she was looking for. She immediately spotted a wizened old stallion hunched in the back corner, clothed in sackcloth.

“Starswirl!” she cried, nearly dropping the torch as she leaped to hug her mentor. She was taken aback at just how thin and frail he felt as he returned her embrace weakly.

“I thought you might come, my friend,” he whispered.

“You’re so thin! Have they been feeding you? Never mind, we need to get out of here. Can you walk? Are you too ill? We have to get moving!”

“Calm down, Clover. We must talk. Did you happen to bring a tablet and stylus?”

“Of course; I never go anywhere without them. But aren’t you curious as to how or why I’m here? Princess Platinum paid to bribe the guards so I can get you out. Come on, Starswirl, you’re free!”

To her surprise, Starswirl smiled, but didn’t move. “Nopony is truly free, Clover. We are all slaves to our existence, even the princess, especially the princess. The more you have on earth, the more you will miss it. Power is that which allows one to have some control over that to which they are powerless. Every motivation, every action is in the pursuit of power, and the powerful only find themselves yearning for control over the impossible.”

“You’re not making sense…”

“It matters not. However, there is something I wish for you to record, in due time. But I suppose the first item of discussion is the immediate situation. I suppose I should say it frankly—I’m not leaving.”

“But... Starswirl! They’re going to make you drink poison tomorrow! You can’t stay here!”

“I am aware of that. I was at the trial, after all.” He chuckled faintly before seriousness fell upon his face. “No, I am a philosopher, and I will not give in to the fear of punishment over my ideas. A philosopher is born when one signs the death warrant of their own life, and lives outside the realms of common existence. Threatening my existence cannot kill my ideas, because I have been born outside of society.”

“Starswirl…”

“But I have good news, my apprentice. The question that I have spent so many years trying to answer will come to me tonight.”

“The Meaning of Life? I would have thought that you would abandon those mad attempts by now. There is no such thing.”

He laughed. “One cannot simply ignore a question, Clover; it is not in the true philosopher’s capacity. I have been wondering why He hasn’t yet shown me what He promised, but I have discovered the reason—the spell I cast was not complete.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to cast another spell. For your friends, if nothing else, you need to stop this. The last spell cost you your eyesight!”

The blind philosopher smiled in the dark. “A small price for the meaning behind our existence. All things require sacrifice, and in my foolish attachment to my life, I have not offered enough to Him for the truth. I will now offer it all.”

“Starswirl, please!” Clover begged, tears lining her eyes, “Just come with me. We can discuss magic, like before. We’ll run away to Helicaharness, we’ll be happy again! Don’t cast another spell!”

“Worry not, my apprentice. Tomorrow, I may be dead, but I will be whole. Now take out your tablet and stylus, and write down my words. I wish to inscribe my final spell for the wisest ponies of the future.”

Clover hesitated. “I don’t think that’s wise. Look at the damage this madness has done to you already.”

“Worry not, for I am not so foolhardy to write down the most powerful and dangerous spell ever created in plain language. I will recite the code, and you will write it down. If any pony in the future is wise enough to solve my riddle, then maybe they’re ready to see the Meaning of Life.”

“But…”

“Clover! If you ever cared for me, you will write this down!”

She sighed heavily, but readied her stylus at the corner of the wax tablet. “Ready.”

“Very well, write this down as I say it.”

Starswirl began to recite letters very carefully, every care taken into enunciating each one despite his frailty. Clover dutifully wrote down every letter that Starswirl spoke, even as his voice grew raspy and weak. Her magical aura was unsteady and more than one tear spilled onto her tablet, running down over the surface of the wax. The torch burned weaker and the impatient sounds of the guard could be heard outside the cell. As Starswirl finished his recitation, he slumped down even farther onto the floor than he already was. “Go, Clover, write down this code… into my anthology…”

Clover tucked the tablet and stylus back into her saddlebags. “Please, will you reconsider coming with me? Aristrotle and Xenopone are waiting outside the prison. They’ll be really disappointed. No, they’ll be devastated.”

He smiled weakly. “Ahh, yes. They are bright lads. They will look to you when I am gone, Clover. You are a clever mare, but I feel there is still much for you to learn. Now I must rest. I have a spell to cast tonight, and I need my strength.”

A sob rose from the bottom of Clover’s chest, and tears ran in rivers down her cheeks. “I’ll miss you, teacher.”

“I’m not your teacher anymore. You are now the teacher, and the most clever pony I know, so I now name you as such. Goodbye, Clover the Clever.”

“Goodbye, Starswirl the Bearded. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Clover spun around and exited the dark stone prison cell in a torrent of emotion. The guard had been leaning against the wall in annoyance, but looked up in surprise as Clover shut the cell door quietly behind her.

“What’s going on? Where’s the stallion.”

“He’s not coming.”

“Really? Well, I’m keeping the money.”

“That’s fine,” she replied listlessly, “Show me the way out, and try to walk a little slower this time.”

“Whatever you say.”

The guard started walking up the twisted stone stairs. As Clover began to follow, she cast a glance back at the wooden door from which she had just egressed, and her thoughts drifted to the pony that sat behind it.

It was the last time anyone ever saw Starswirl the Bearded.