It looked ridiculous.
The Tree of Harmony - the foundation of the Equestrian nation and literal fruit-bearer of the values that had made the ponies great - had a treehouse in it. An overly elaborate, pointlessly shiny treehouse.
It was unfathomably stupid and yet so very, very pony.
Gilda actually smiled a little at the idiocy of it.
Any other creature would likely have felt afraid. The Everfree at night was literally a thing of nightmares and spooky stories told over campfires. Listing the things that wouldn't kill you (or worse) was significantly shorter than trying to list the things that would. And yet - it felt safe. Something about the Tree radiated security, and Gilda felt little beyond her own anticipation and a growing knot of nervousness.
Her journey hadn't been hard - at least not in any way that she wasn't obligated to complain about - but it had been long. Not physically, but in terms of time. Gilda had gotten ready to head out a dozen times over the last year before finally swallowing her pride, doing what needed to be done and setting out into the baleful, unforgiving wilderness of central Equestria. (Granted, part of that was the Everfree Forest but most of the journey had been through the harrowing clutches of the Equestrian Rail System. Never again.)
The important thing - direly important - was that she had arrived at the Tree.
Perhaps just as important was that she was alone. It saved time on stupid questions and embarrassing answers that way. It gave the slim hope that Gilda might preserve a tiny fragment of her pride.
But that was a long shot.
She was okay with it, though. Pride was just another sort of coin, after all. Gilda had come expecting to pay.
Approaching, the white-headed hen sat by the Tree's base - far enough back to see the whole treehouse - and waited. Crickets chirped. There was the distant squeak of a bat seeking dinner overhead. Bushes shuffled beyond the well-worn perimeter of the old ruins as a night creature skirted past. Overhead, the stars glimmered and the moon sat fat and lazy.
Gilda shifted uneasily. It had been three minutes.
"Maybe I gotta do some sorta ritual?"
"I would begin by saying hello."
Gilda was on her paws before the strange voice finished the sentence. It wasn't clear when the speaker had appeared, but Gilda was at least slightly prepared for it. Not that she'd entirely believed Gallus when the Bluebird of Sappiness claimed that the Tree spoke through a translucent, sparkling image of Twilight Sparkle - but seeing as that's exactly what was in front of her on the treehouse's steps, belief didn't really matter anymore.
The phantasmal Twilight tilted her head curiously. "That was an earnest suggestion," it said in a way that seemed like much more of a command.
Immediately, taunts sprang to Gilda's beak. Dweeb, dork, egghead and crueler came eagerly. She clamped down on them and instead doled out the first coin of her purse.
Gilda bowed. And not half-heartedly - she fully prostrated herself, claws spread wide, wings flat and beak in the packed dirt.
"Tree of Harmony, honored spirit. I name myself to you as Gilda Grimfeather, chick of Griffonstone and supplicant of Boreas. I beg for you to please hear my plea."
Every word walked the plank out of her mouth with the vigor of a doomed sailor.
The image of the Tree tilted its head in the other direction and watched her with wide eyes that managed to be unfathomably wise and totally naive at the same time. "Why are you speaking like that?"
Hesitantly, Gilda lifted her head up. "I, uh." She motioned vaguely towards the Tree with a claw. "How else am I supposed to talk to a god?"
"I am not a god." The spirit stared at her - through her - and it was at this moment Gilda realized the image had yet to blink. "I had expected you to say hello. The creatures who come here think that is polite."
Injured pride mixed with confusion, coming together into a snap of anger. "Yeah well I'm not those creatures!"
With complete earnestness, the spirit nodded. "Yes. You are a different creature. Does that mean that saying hello is not polite?"
Gilda's brain jumped the rails. She froze. And then very slowly raised herself up and waved. "Uh. Hello."
"Hello," replied the spirit matter-of-factly as it waved back.
Silence hung between them - awkward on one side, patient on the other.
"You're, uh. You're a lot more pony than I was expecting," Gilda awkwardly admitted as she shifted her weight from one side to the other.
"Thank you. I have put effort into adopting an avatar that is sufficiently pleasing and allows for easier interactions with the creatures that visit me. It is positive that you have found it to be so." The spirit smiled broadly, expressing only with its mouth in a way that no living creature would interpret as anything but uncanny or insane.
Eyes flicking between the phantasmal alicorn and the crystalline plant, Gilda cautiously ventured a question. "You are the Tree of Harmony, right? Just to make sure."
The illusion nodded. "I am the Tree of Harmony. I understand using the image of Twilight Sparkle as my avatar may be confusing but I am a tree."
Several more insulting statements sprang to Gilda's mind and were forced back down before she could mutter them. "Then…" She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Harmony, I have come to bargain."
Treelight Sparkle stared at her without visible emotion. "I do not understand."
"Equestria is strong," Gilda declared firmly. "Its borders stretch wider than any other nation's. Its ponies are safe, well-fed and happy. While it has been challenged, Equestria has been victorious every time - even when the threat is something world-ending. Everything about Equestria is strong, despite how…" She grimaced. "Fluffy all of you are."
The spirit gave a very slight nod. "Yes. I have played my part in this, but I am not the cause."
"But you're part of it," Gilda reiterated. "A big part of why Equestria is strong. And everything that Griffonstone isn't." A knife's edge of panic crept into her voice. "We're poor. We're weak. Half the time I'm not sure how we survive until the next day, let alone the rest of the week. Griffons, we don't… we barely talk to each other, let alone help our neighbors. There's nothing to unify us like Equestria has. Heck," she snorted, "The only leader we've got is Grandpa Gruff, and he's no immortal alicorn." Gilda's voice faded to a hoarse murmur. "Barely a leader and definitely not immortal."
Treelight held completely still, expression pleasantly blank and unchanged. "I am unaware of such circumstances. My senses only reach a fraction of the distance to Griffonstone." If it hadn't been for the spirit's passive face, Gilda might have convinced herself there was a hint of regret in its voice.
The griffon soldiered on grumpily. "Yeah, well, it's how it is. And that's why I'm here." Sitting down on the stone, Gilda pulled out a heavy sack. "Griffonstone is doomed. Right now, a lot of loud squakers who think they're leaders are saying we should go to Equestria and beg for aid. That might push things back a few months, but it doesn't solve the actual problems. Everygriff would just steal what they could get their claws on and barely leave a scrap for the rest of us. Most of them are just pretending to lead so they can get first dibs on the loot. It won't save us. But you can. So I ignored them and came to you." Slowly she pulled coins from the sack - gold in a dozen varieties from Equestrian bits to centuries-old coins from dead civilizations. Each placed with reverence and regret in a pile before her as she talked. "There's a great tree in Griffonstone. Long ago, it was the center of our kingdom and the palace sat in the highest branches. Now it's in ruins, and so are we." The gold gave way to gems - glittering stones of every color, shape and quality. They too went on the pile. "Even though I'm lousy with plants, one thing I do know is that they grow from seeds."
Gilda paused, her sack empty.
"I want one of your seeds."
Now the spirit finally blinked. In confusion. "I do not understand."
Gilda waved at the pile on the ground before her. "This is everything I have. Every possession liquidated, every favor called in, every penny pinched to fill my bag. I want to trade everything I have in this world for just one seed from the Tree of Harmony."
"To do what?"
The sheer indifference of the spirit's words made Gilda flinch. "To plant it. To make it grow at the center of a new Griffonstone. One where griffons can find ideals like Equestrians have that will save us and make us strong, too. So my people will be safe, well-fed and happy."
For some reason, that drove the spirit of the Tree to silence. Not a neutral, passive silence as it seemed to default to, but the silence of a being trying to think and understand an alien concept.
A tense minute later, Treelight asked a heart-shattering question. "Why?"
Gilda gawked - and then exploded. "I-- why? Why would I want to not see my home in ruins? Why wouldn't I want to see another idiot like Gallus who has to travel to Equestria just so he can eat on the regular? Grandpa Gruff may be an old buzzard but at least he gives half a damn about anygriff besides himself! After he's gone, we've got nothing left!" Panting as the burst of anger subsided, Gilda shot an angry glare at the glittering illusion. "Is it so hard to believe I don't want to see my people die out because we're too stubborn and stupid?"
Another stretch of silence passed between them. Tense, thick and heavy silence. Then the Tree ruined it. "Past experience suggests that you currently need a hug. Unfortunately, my avatar does not have physicality so I am unable to provide one."
Grumbling, Gilda crossed her claws over her chest. "Just… take the gold and give me the seed."
Which Treelight dismissed with a shake of her head. "I have no use for gold."
An edge of desperation snuck into Gilda's voice. "Well the gems then, and I'll use the gold to get you more. You're made of crystal, right? So gems are good."
Again, the spirit shook its head. "I have no use for gemstones."
"Fertilizer? More sunlight? A new set of random youth to live in that ugly treehouse?" Gilda grasped wildly for a solution as she watched her opportunity slip away.
But the Tree was unmoved and shook its head again. "The only thing I need is your heart."
Gilda froze.
The spirit didn't move - it simply stood there, looking at her with that same passive smile that seemed to be its default expression.
Lifting up a claw, Gilda looked at the razor-sharp tips of her talons. They were trembling - shaking uncontrollably.
Gilda took a long, deep breath and held it in. "Fine." Closing her eyes, she put the tip of her trembling talon to her white-feathered breast, near the base of her throat.
"What are you doing?" Only the Tree could have managed so innocent and gormless a tone.
Gilda cracked open an eye, voice taut and ready to snap. "You asked for my heart."
The spirit paused in confusion - then its eyes widened with understanding. "Oh. I did not mean like that."
The talon moved away and Gilda nearly collapsed in relief.
With a soft smile - almost close enough to mistake for a real pony's - Treelight tried to clarify herself. "I had meant your spiritual heart. I apologize for the misunderstanding. Please do not harm yourself."
Now it was Gilda's turn to be silent as she shook, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
Tilting its head to the side, the spirit seemed to listen to something - a distant unheard voice. "A wise creature told me," it related, "That it is easier to convince a griffon to open up their chest than their wallet."
Hoarsely, Gilda laughed as she regained herself and forced herself to sit up straight again. "Some ancient pony wisdom?"
"My friend Gallus." The spirit corrected with an actual trace of cheer. It took a few steps forward, coming illusory muzzle-to-beak with Gilda. "You have offered to do both, Gilda Grimfeather. But as importantly, you came here seeking aid for your people no matter how much it cost you. You have chosen a path of Generosity, Kindness and Loyalty. I will reward that."
Behind the alicorn projection, one of the Tree's lower branches sagged under newfound weight. A crystal nut - thin and shimmering blue, not unlike a sharp almond - grew in a matter of seconds.
"Take this." Treelight motioned to the nut with a glowing hoof. "Embed it in the tree that you say is at the center of Griffonstone. If it is cared for properly, it will grow inside what is there, replacing the rot and dead wood with what you desire."
Gilda's eyes flicked - first to the nut and then to the spirit again. "How do I care for it?"
The placid smile returned again. "Do as you have done today," the spirit explained. "Surround it with the virtues it represents to make it strong. Create a community that will imbue it with what you seek. Let Generosity be its water, Loyalty its sunlight and Kindness be the soil into which it sends its roots."
That answer made Gilda glower. "But that can't be done. The whole problem's that griffons aren't like that! How am I supposed to pull that off?"
The spirit's expression didn't visibly change, but Gilda could swear it turned insufferably smug. "By being the leader your people need. And who you have shown yourself to be."
Gilda's beak pulled to a thin line. "...I'm no alicorn to unify the griffons."
"Ponykind was saved by three normal ponies who chose a new path. The alicorns came later," was the frustratingly neutral rebuttal.
With a snort, Gilda let the Tree's words pass without further argument. She stood, walking around the spirit to the crystal nut hanging there. Just a slight touch of her claw, and it dropped eagerly into her grasp. She said nothing at first, simply feeling the warmth of it - warmth that went deep into her. "Well," she admitted, "I was ready to give up a lot more to get this. I guess a few years to help it grow ain't so bad."
Turning back around, Gilda found the projection of Twilight gone and herself alone. For a moment she was confused - then looked back to the great crystal Tree and smiled. "Thank you. I swear I'll do my best." She paused. "All of us will do our best."
Then, nut clutched tightly in her claws, Gilda took to wing and began the journey home.
