The Tree That Blooms In Darkness
The Tree That Blooms In Darkness
In her purple-shadowed grotto beneath the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, the Tree's roots gripped the land confidently. Even as the black, wiry plunderseeds wrapped their choking vines around her and scavenged pieces from her soul, she told herself, I will not be forgotten. I will not be forsaken.
I have faith, she glowed proudly. I have memory. In my heartcrystal, I recall the light of the First Day.
***
The yellow light of the Sun washed over her and for the first time ever, she laughed. It tickles, she thought. Life tickles! Woohoo!
The Tree stood alone on the rocky shore of a shallow sea. Alone, of course, because in all the wide world, there was no other living creature. She was a delicate branching form no taller than a pebble, a budding flower of crystal. But she felt gigantic! Alive! I am alive! Hahaha!
For so long, for an eternity it seemed, as the world around her cooled and the thin air rose, she had simply been, thoughtless, as inert as the stones around her, yet still recording in her heartcrystal the subtle changes in the Earth, the lonely Moon and, yea, even the solitude of the Sun as the three sisters whirled in their slow dance.
But now, in the light of the First Day, thought raced through her. Through senses she could barely understand, she felt the world around her: the obdurate stone, the restless waters, the joyful air.
I! she thought excitedly. I am! I observe! I am the witness to Creation! I rejoice! Hahaha!
All that day, she felt the quiet air whisper through her spines, the warm sea lap at her roots, the solid earth bear her up and nourish her. She watched and felt and heard and laughed until the sheer joy of existence was more than she could contain.
This is too much for me alone! she thought. There must be others to bear witness to the world!
Let there be life! she giggled.
And hahaha! there was life!
***
Eons later, the Tree, now grown into a stout and hardy shrub, watched nervously as this tiny little creature crawled up out of the green sea. C’mon, c’mon, she called to her.
The creature paused at the water's edge, the thin waves lapping over her. The Tree was afraid that the creature would turn back. But no! This was a brave girl! Here the tiny creature came, struggling up the muddy slope that now separated the Tree from her beloved Sea.
The Tree had done her best to make the land inviting. Spores and seeds had sprung up beside her, their broad, beautiful green fronds catching and collecting the Sun, rising up from the sad little lichens that had clutched against her shores. There were glints, here and there, of tiny bugs, offering beauty and protein.
At the edge of the surf, timid critters from the water chased each other, then sank back. But this precious little girl did not turn back! She surged forward with every wave, struggling up the beach towards the Tree.
C’mon, pretty girl, called the Tree. There might be boys here, she hinted.
Sex, thought the Tree, was her best invention. This mix of possibilities and hope was enticing.
C’mon, pretty girl, she urged.
The tiny creature struggled up the beach, gasping for breath. You can do it! called the Tree.
The tiny creature lurched finally into the clear, freshwater pond at the Tree's roots, gasping for air.
Good girl. Good girl! the Tree thought, glowing.
The tiny creature rested for a time against the Tree’s roots. It is beautiful here, the creature thought. The trees!
I grew them just for you, pretty girl, the Tree said, as she held the tiny creature close, caressing her with her thought. Just for you.
The tiny creature smiled weakly. Thank you. You are kind, she thought. Then she died, her primitive lungs failing.
Please, come to me again, the Tree thought, for a moment gathering the spirit of the tiny soul close, then releasing her into the universe. For however long it takes, I will wait for you to return to me.
***
I will miss the light, thought the Tree, now grown tall, as the Earth pressed close around her.
She had endured times of darkness before, of course, when the grinding ice had loomed, mountainous, over her place at the shore of the long-vanished sea. Yet the glaciers had been enchanting, in their way, full of light and life-giving water. In the warm geothermal pools at the Tree's roots, creatures, scaled, furred and feathered, had collected and even organized, supporting each other in the long winter.
And each time before, the ice had receded and the Sun at last had come again. Then the Tree had wished that she could dance and sing, but satisfied herself with the delighted scattering and calls of the life she had nurtured.
And the creatures of the sea, land and air were faithful. Loyal even across the ages, when the ice returned they sought shelter with her, bringing with them the seeds and stories that they hoarded in hopes of warmer days. They have not forgotten me, the Tree thought lovingly, as she gathered their rough communities between her roots.
I will never be forsaken! she had realized. They climb my branches, pat my trunk, bring me treats and sing to me, even as they shiver in the dark. And I shall never forsake them, my dearest children!
But this time, the darkness threatened to be endless. Endless on a scale that even the Tree feared.
Gradually but inexorably, the land had risen around her. The hills, pushed and prodded by the glaciers, and lifted by the slow, inexorable collision of the foundation plates of the Earth, had swelled and now aspired to become mountains. The aquifers of her beloved Sea now struggled through stone, not soil. Slowly, the walls of the land pressed closer. Her glen became a valley, the valley a canyon, the canyon a shadowed grotto.
The Earth will rise to cover me, she thought sadly. I will dwell forever in darkness, sundered from the brilliant Day and the blessed wheel of the Night.
Yet I still hold in my heartcrystal the light of the First Day, and remember every kindly touch, every laughing call from every one of my children. I will be steadfast and loyal, even in the endless dark.
But, still, the Tree of Harmony sighed. I will miss the light.
***
For a time uncounted, the Tree's mind wandered through an endless maze of memory. Until the monsters appeared.
Even in her black grotto, the Tree had never been entirely alone. Colonies of fungi had sprouted from the walls of her chamber, fed by the leavings of the world of light. Tiny flowers, accustomed to her glow, held close in the water around her roots. Blind creatures, unwilling to abandon her, splashed in her black pools. Bugs and bats, worms and moles had found their way down to her at times, and they sang to her of the lands above.
She still missed the light, but in her heartcrystal, she was content.
Then the monsters, one proud and white, who glowed as the long-remembered dawn, the other mysterious and dark, stamped into the Tree's refuge and demanded that she surrender her fruit.
No! the Tree cried. In all the ages of my life, I have given of myself! Can I not hold onto this one thing?! I thought you kind, Children of the Sky!
The monster of the Dawn bowed. I am so sorry, she said urgently. But I must beg this. My children are in danger.
And our children as well, echoed the monster of the Stars. Their souls turn away from us towards madness! We declare, this cannot be!
That split the Tree's heartcrystal. For the first time, the Tree of Harmony contemplated her death. She understood Death, in an abstract way. So many, so very many of her children had come and passed away. Yet, the Tree held the memory of each and every one inside her, in her heartcrystal, so none were truly dead.
If I do this, I, and every creature I hold within me, could be forgotten forever. The Tree shivered. No! This is too much! It is impossible!
But it is for their children! For my children! she thought. I safeguard All That Was, but they beg for What Is and What Will Be. And what did all my children live for, if not for hope?
Are they truly in peril? asked the Tree.
They face Discord, the undoing of all things, said the white monster. The white monster then knelt down before the Tree of Harmony. Everything I am, I will give to you, Mother, if only you will aid my children.
The dark monster also knelt in surrender. We understand this darkness. Better, perhaps, than thou cans't know. But we offer thee all that we are, for this one boon, our Mother.
The Tree nodded inwardly. This is the moment I have lived for, I think. To protect all that Is and Will Be. To you, Daughters, I give my fruit. Use my gifts to protect my children!
The Tree of Harmony then opened herself to the monsters. She cried in pain as her cherished fruit was collected.
Your generosity will never be forgotten! I will build a monument to you, Mother, declared the white monster. A palace.
I care nothing for palaces, cried the Tree. Go! Go now! And protect my children!
Then the Tree of Harmony sank into darkness and despair.
***
For a time, the Tree dreamed of Night and was comforted.
When she was younger, after the glorious brilliance of the Day, the Night had seemed to her cold and distant. But in time, as the Tree observed the changes in the sky, she had realized, Oh! I am not alone! I was never alone! The stars! Oh, my sisters!
She finally saw that the distant firefly lights of Night swirled and swarmed, dimmed and warmed over the long ages of her life. They winked at her, laughing. Why! The Night is alive! There are other Earths beyond this! The revelation had stunned her.
Now, in her dream, the Tree reached her branches into the familiar darkness and beyond that to the greater dark of the Sky. Surely, my sisters will help me. The stars will aid in my escape.
Thinking she was dreaming, the Tree became aware of two tiny lights that approached her.
“Looks like a tree,” said one.
“Down here?” said the other.
“Yup.”
“Dead, I reckon.”
“Probably so. Give us a light.”
Weatherwax lit a torch. The two Diamond Dogs, White Fang and Weatherwax, stood in the grotto of the Tree of Harmony, in search of treasure.
“It’s pretty,” said Weatherwax, looking up at the Tree.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” agreed White Fang. “But, y’know, suddenly I gotta go.”
Weatherwax rolled her eyes. “You boys, always marking your territory. Go ahead, but forgive me if I don’t watch.”
“Lassie, I’ll forgive you anything.” White Fang relieved himself at the roots of the Mother of Life.
“She’s beautiful,” said Weatherwax, ignoring him. She raised her torch, enraptured. The torchlight glinted off of branches of alabaster, glittered over falls of crystal leaves. The Diamond Dogs, raised in darkness, adored light. Mother, she thought, without realizing why, as she surveyed the Tree.
“Nice enough,” agreed White Fang. “Not proper gems, you understand. But... artistic, you might say. Fancy. A good setting enhances every jewel, they say. Woof! Too big to haul out intact. But, you know, even some of the branches might be worth something with the dealers back below the Tartarus Gate. Let’s break off a few. C’mon. Gimme a leg up.”
Weatherwax looked at her teammate. "But she's beautiful!" she insisted, marveling that she did so. She raised her torch again. Ah! The light! Why, it could be the light of all Creation! she thought. "Are you blind? Can't you see this? Look! Look at her, you dumb runt!"
White Fang stood upon his dignity. "I am not a runt. I am compact. This demonstrates my breeding. I'm not as mixed as others I could name."
The Tree of Harmony chuckled. Hahaha! My silly, quarrelsome children! The Tree, slowly coming to wakefulness, glowed.
"Woof! Whassat?" barked White Fang, backing away.
Weatherwax was transfixed. This tree! she thought. A wave of joy washed over her. This cavern. It is beautiful here. I have struggled all my life to be here, at your roots, Mother. At last, I can breathe.
"C'mon, s'dangerous," urged White Fang. "Here, I've got a thought. Let's chop it up, and take it back a bit at a time. The shiny bits are worth somethin', I reckon. And the rest is kindling. What do you say?"
I understand now, why we Diamond Dogs covet the light, thought Weatherwax. It is because we search for you, Mother. We have never forgotten you.
Weatherwax lowered her torch. "No," she said. "Let's go back and rejoin the pack. We will say nothing of this place. Or of Her."
“What are you on about now?” asked White Fang, trapped between angry and afraid. “There's profit here, for the taking. A bit of shiny, good for us both. I always thought you were a regular mate, even though a bitch.”
“Oh, you did not say that!” said Weatherwax, dropping her torch and lifting her club.
“Let’s be honest with each other,” said White Fang, circling to her left, growling. “I know that Lad and Argus have been up in your rear.”
“Shows what little you know! To be honest, I only like girls! Dog damn you for making me say that!” barked Weatherwax, brandishing her club. “Bad dog!”
Perhaps it would be best if you would go, said the Tree of Harmony to White Fang, amused.
White Fang cringed, despite himself. He looked about for the source of the mysterious voice. He panicked when he realized that the source was inside himself. That voice is coming from inside my heart!
Then White Fang ran, his tail between his legs. Ran and ran and ran. But as fast as he ran, he could not escape the sense of peace, and of loss, in his heart.
Weatherwax dropped her club. She approached the Tree timidly, turned three times, then settled at her roots.
Brave girl, thought the Tree. Weatherwax nestled closer.
Is it true? Do you only like girls? asked the Tree of Harmony.
Yes, Mother, said Weatherwax.
Well, that didn't work out as I expected, thought the Tree. She chuckled. I am so proud of you, said the Tree. I admire your honesty. My children always surprise me.
Let me be honest with you, in turn, my Daughter. I am dying.
Mother, no! cried Weatherwax.
It is the truth, my Daughter. The plunderseeds simmer just below my soil. I struggle to hold them back, but in the end they will surface and destroy me.
I am sorry, Daughter, but I must burden you with one last task. Warn your people. Warn the ponies. I can do no more, but wait for the end. I am sorry.
The Diamond Dog Weatherwax ran to her folk. Her story spread below the Earth. From there it rose, to the ponies of the Earth, of Magic and of Sky.
When the Black Roots invaded Weatherwax’s village, in the dark beneath the Everfree Forest, Weatherwax gathered her family and friends near her, and waited for the end of all things.
***
This is the end. I can no longer endure this, thought the Tree. The plunderseeds tear at my mind. They choke my soul. So weak now, without my fruit.
I am sorry, my children. I tried to live as long as I could.
She could no longer remember the call of the krill. They had this sweet little song, that they used to encourage each other. The song meant no more than, "We are krill! Hooray!" They sang on, triumphantly, even as they were swallowed.
She wept as the plunderseeds tore away the bees. She could not remember now their first blossoming, their first tender approach to her flowers. They had this little dance that they did, as if the bees were sorry for their intrusion.
The plunderseeds ripped away the turtles. These awkward and foolhardy creatures, who ran up on her beaches, did their business and died, all the while smiling at her. We trust our children to you.
I have forgotten the call of the Archeopteryx. She once sang to me. She called me by name! the Tree thought in agony.
The Tree of Harmony held on. She gripped the Earth, desperately. I will not yield! Never!
I remember you, from the Old Lands, said a voice.
The Tree looked down. This tiny, toothless alligator looked back. I knew you of old, it said. Be at peace, Mother. Your children will not forsake you. Have courage, just this little while. Then the alligator went back to chewing on his favorite toy.
The Tree looked up. From the mouth of her grotto came the ponies. The Princess of Light and Dark, of the Twilight. At her right shoulder, the Pony of the Earth, of Honesty, tipping her hat. At her left shoulder was the Pony of Generosity, tossing her carefully coiffed mane. In the air above them was the spirit of Loyalty, who danced in the air, and the angel of Kindness, who just smiled shyly.
The last to come was the Pony of Laughter. She bounced happily into the Tree's grotto, collected her small alligator and smiled.
The Tree knew at once that the Princess of Light and Dark was the monsters' apprentice. She smelled of the Day and the Stars. She smelled of Sky. If I must die now, I am glad to at last know you, the Tree thought. I have yearned so long for the Sky.
"I know how we can save the Tree,” said the Princess of Twilight.
Child, no! Run away! Be safe! thought the Tree, as the stranglehold of the plunderseeds tightened. Do not let my sacrifice be in vain!
But then the monsters' apprentice did the unimaginable. She consulted with her friends. They all nodded. Then the Princess of Twilight restored the Tree’s heart and returned her fruit.
Magic! It was magic!
To the Tree of Harmony, it was as the light of the First Day. Life and memory returned to her. She shrugged away the black roots of the plunderseeds.
I remember! the Tree rejoiced. Alive! I am alive! Life tickles, she laughed.
So happy she was, the Tree of Harmony, for the first time in eons, bloomed. She burst forth a fruit, tailored to the soul of the apprentice. A puzzle, my child, she thought gleefully. A problem that will draw you closer to me.
The Tree of Harmony grinned. She laughed. She plunged her roots deep into the soil of the Everfree and felt the waters that ran through Ponyville. The bugs and bats brought her new stories.
And in the darkness below the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, she blossomed.
I rejoice! Ha ha! I rejoice! I am alive!
