(10:43 pm, 5th Lunar Hour)

"Is any-pony present?" I called into the suffocating indigo mist that was the night. No-pony responded, which only increased my worry.

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 any-pony uncertain, inhibiting sight and hiding foul monsters. The only light around me was the eerie glow of stars like mocking little eyes, 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.

Clever am I, getting lost like this in such a wild land makes me seem unworthy of my title.

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 Canterlote.

Let me see... I am a unicorn and a well-versed 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.

My settings began to emerge from the murk of unholy darkness like magic from the aether. Sparse wild shrubs of a deciduous variety 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. 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 then 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 - their brethren in color - werelight had begun to falter.

Brusquely I changed my thoughts to the sun's light although my mind couldn't help but turn to the subject of rules...

Like the ones I had just broken.

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 eager trotting noise as they yearned for harder ground to tread despite the late hour. Through the Forte's open windows sun-set was approaching the realm of the newly formed Equestria, Most Beloved Triarchy. A spring breeze wafted through carrying 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 and its flat-topped deep gray buildings like the dazzling gems buried beneath the rocky flesh of the mountain it was built upon. Distant horns signified the beginning of the dreaded lunar hours which were controlled by a being as frightening, mysterious, and dreaded as they were.

"Clover, my dear companion, what are you doing up at his hour? The night air makes nervous ponies such as yourself ill, you know."

I turned to the speaker, immediately recognizing the elegant tone. Lifelong friends are not easily forgotten.

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 and in doing so, obscuring the permanent black bags of worry that life had bestowed me.

A mint green hoof streaked with silver patches of age lifted my chin forcing me out of my bow.

Faint hints of a rare smile were present on the large eyed mare's face. Her long bustle dress and elaborate robes and jewels seemed to make Platinum's figure that of a worshiped idol, rather ironically; most of the pony tribes generations - united or divided - been fiercely atheist, including myself. There had never been any gods here, never. All was that of the unicorns, pegasai, and earth ponies. Nothing else was worthy of being compared with us.

"Faithful servant," the aged leader began "I merely inquired what you were doing, not offering you to prostate before me."

I dipped my head back. "My Lady, I was just going for a walk on the mountain."

Her brow creased. "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! You know as well as I every action done as master and servant is not an experience we share. Parts of my life will always remain private, as will parts of your own."

Platinum's solemn mask burst into haughty laughter, although I knew she meant no harm in her deed.

"You spicy thing," she punned. A joke between us two. 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, my family's name for their green-house, yet I knew not what 'Verre' was having not known my parents long. However, Starswirl never bothered to say it correctly, instead calling me 'Clover'.

Another peal of laughter followed making her unable to speak. I stood erectly, a sharp contrast to the vain elegant monarch cackling on the floor.

Some would consider it odd for two elderly mares to banter so. Maybe if we were married then it might be inappropriate but unwed we were. My past and passion of learning magic forbade me, all must be devoted to betting the lives of others, while Platinum's lust of power and self-absorbance in areas caused her choice to be the same as mine.

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? Even a former Arcane Student such as 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 - Platinum still called me 'Arcane Student'.

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 as I was apprenticed 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.

Platinum fixed her gaze once more upon me, face crinkled in worry. For once she most definitely looked her age.

"Please," she whispered, "I will comply with your wishes if 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 friend the Princess it is deeply I care. Now if you please allow me to breathe of all places... OUT THERE!"

We both fell into cacophonies of giggles as I twirled like a graceful youth once more and Platinum, once an alabaster faced princess fancily twirling her robes and wearing her silver crown upside down...

Present

(11:20, Sixth Lunar Hour)

I glided along as quickly as possible until I came to an area as tangled as my mane. 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 trickling 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...

When I was done scrubbing my apron I picked out the path that most resembled an upward slope. 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.

As I cantered lightly further down the 'path', weariness started getting to me, slowing my brisk but cautious movement to a heavy, wearing steps. Small lights began to dance around me, flying around at random or land on trees that no began to recede as I made it farther up.

Tired...

The stars gleamed and 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. This was going to be bad on my arthritis.

(3:57 am, 10th Lunar Hour)

"Where... need to get... higher ground? Mountain?"

Groggily, I shifted my aching body upward ignoring all its pops and cracks. I had to... cannot remember why... climb the mountain? Yea, indeed I had to. I began to grow a dim werelight to aide me in sight once more. Snatching up a few bits of fern to give me energy, I plodded along the road. 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, one of the two creatures known as 'Alicorns' - a sort of equine with unfathomable power - would raise her sun. This would force the Younger Sister to end her night by lowering the moon. They lived in an enchanted forest, untouched by time, not far from here. I have never been there and do not plan on going anytime soon. We ponies rarely saw them, it was not as if they lived in one of our Three Citadels: Canterlote, Cloud's Dale, and Hoofing Towne.

But I knew them, somewhat. Celestia and Luna couldn't hide from me. They had different names then...

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 fixate my eyes upon the city that captivates my essence.
Unable to retrace my steps, my steps continued.

A little while later I had recovered a slither of energy to canter. The air was disappearing fast but I pushed onward. 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?! 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?

Soft green grasses greener than my mane were under me. Occasionally patches of crimson dotted the unearthly pristine nature. All around me night faded away as dawn came to be revealing my mysterious setting: A most fertile mountain pocket-valley, with tall lush grasses swaying in what smelled like a summer breeze located somewhere among the clouds, the air here was thin.

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, all was leaking out of me, nothing was clear anymore.

At its sight tears streaked down my battered face. My horn was broken...

I couldn't get up. My leg was bent... 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...

It won't.

My last remaining tears, golden in sun-light and ivory in the last moon-light, fell into the soft ground. In the sky a few rouge storm clouds had gathered.

Voices filled the air, singing a song I didn't know. It was beautiful.

My eyes closed, dreaming of paradise.

Farewell.

Three days later scouts finally found a trail of blood that lead to a barren ravine, with the broken off form of a pink horn inside. No other remains were could be gathered. It was assumed that some feral creature had snapped up an injured Clover. Promises are hard to keep, especially our last.

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? A magical herb perhaps?

Nopony was quite sure of what kind of plant it was. Only that it grew remarkably fast on next to nothing and created springy beds. Three leaves sprouted from a normal stalk while 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.

They called it 'Clover', and the clover it became.