There was grey, and then there was Grandmother Oak. Never in his life had Sundance seen anything quite like it. Near the roots, it had to be almost three yards wide, and this narrowed to about two yards for the remainder of the trunk. It was a short tree, and the trunk was maybe a little less than ten yards in length. About two-thirds of the way up the trunk, it split open, a wide crevasse that revealed the hollow. Places where the trunk had shed its branches formed gnarled openings, windows for whatever creatures might have lived inside.
At the top of the trunk were old wounds that had long since healed over, branches that had long ago fallen off and left behind scarred, greyed whorls of wood. From the looks of it, when the mighty trunk fell, the final surviving branches had snapped off, and three wounds with fresh wood could be seen.
The earth ponies dragged the mighty tree carcass with an ease that was a testament to their strength. Slack-jawed, Sundance watched them, scarcely believing his own eyes. Aged though they might be, ancient as some of them were, these earth ponies had truly legendary strength, and he felt blessed to witness it.
Bringing up the rear was Turmeric and Paradox, both of whom wore curious expressions.
Everypony had stopped what they were doing and now gathered to gawk.
The team came to a halt and then stood there wearing proud smiles. Sundance stared at Grandmother Oak as he came closer, and as he closed the distance, he felt a weird, unknown prickle in his wings. When the sensation became unbearable, he froze in place and tried to understand whatever it was he was feeling. Lost in thought, distracted by the sensation of pins and needles in his wings, he failed to notice Turmeric’s approach.
“She speaks to me,” the dusky yellow unicorn said to Sundance.
This caught Sundance off guard. “Speaks?”
“Not with words.” Turmeric’s eyes darted to and fro as he hurriedly thought of how to clarify his statement. “Feelings. It’s almost like dreaming. I’ve been a unicorn my whole life but I’ve never really had a mystical experience. Not like this. The tree… she’s… shaping visions in my mind. How does a tree with no eyes know how to make me see?”
Fearing what he did not understand, Sundance asked, “Is it dangerous?”
“No!” The overwhelmed unicorn was quick to respond. “It’s full of magic. She’s full of magic. And she’s dying.”
“Is she in pain?” asked Sundance.
“I don’t think so?” Turmeric took a moment to glance up at the fallen giant. “She’s not relating that to me. The cycle is over. She’s gone from an acorn secreted away in a crack by an industrious squirrel all the way to mighty forest matriarch. It’s over now. The only part left of the cycle is the end. So much magic… my magic has never been this potent, ever!”
Squinting, Sundance cast a sidelong glance at the crystal tree that stood in the middle of the box canyon. Then, still squinting, he studied the mighty fallen oak. There was strange magic at work here that he did not understand. Much to his dismay, it was impossible for him to understand, because he was not a unicorn. But Turmeric seemed to have had some kind of awakening, some encounter, some touch with mysticism that only unicorns could experience.
“So many nests… so many young raised in the shelter of her branches, and later, in her hollowed out heart. Even as the moment of her death approaches, she thinks only of what she can provide… it’s so humbling, Sundance. I almost can’t stand it. The thoughts push their way through my mind and cut through the clutter. It makes me think about how selfish I am. But it also makes me feel good about myself. This is incredible.”
Again, Sundance cast his gaze upon the crystal tree and tried to understand.
Paradox clambered up into the hollow heart of the oak and paced the length of its interiour. His eyes went from the crystal tree to the pacing unicorn, to the crystal tree, and back again. Yes, something was happening, he was certain of it, but being a pegasus he felt shut out from whatever enlightenment that was happening. The land here had its own magic, he’d been told that in so many ways by so many ponies. There was his own bond with Owlister, a connection that defied his ability to comprehend.
“The oak is one big focusing conduit,” Paradox said from within.
Ears drooping, Sundance had no idea what a focusing conduit was, and was frustrated by his utter lack of understanding. Some of the earth ponies were now rubbing themselves against the wood and amongst the gathered herd, he spotted Lemongrass, who struggled to avoid being caught underhoof. The unicorn foal wore a peculiar expression and his eyes were almost glazed over.
Extending his wings, Sundance bent his neck to have a look at them.
Alas, mystical influence was not something he could see—though the sensation in his wings could be felt. It was almost an annoyance, more than anything. A steady, unending prickle, sort of like when he slept on his side wrong and his wing went to sleep. He flexed his wings, examined his primaries, but his eyes, his gateway to understanding the world, could tell him nothing.
He would have to find some other way of experiencing meaningful, mystical magic.
“This shall be my home,” Paradox said as she peered through a gnarled knothole. “It’s just a tower that lays on its side, really. The magics in the wood suit me. Turmeric, can you shape the wood?”
“I… don’t know,” he replied, his voice almost hitching. “Shaping wood… I’m not that good at it… but this speaks to me.”
“Grandmother Oak is like a giant wand,” Paradox said to Turmeric. “The trickle of magic flows like a river through this wood.” She paused for a moment, chewed on her lip, and looked down at Lemongrass. “It will be easy to teach magic. The flow and ebb will lend itself well to instruction. Princess Celestia told me that the land will give what is necessary. It seems she was right. As always.”
Sundance, somewhat bitter that he could not experience this in a more meaningful way, sensed opportunity. Looking up at Paradox’s face, which was framed in the knothole, he asked, “Would other unicorns be attracted to something like this? I mean, like visitors—”
“Do you mean tourists?” Paradox’s face vanished from the knothole, and a moment later she could be seen standing in the wide opening that she had climbed into. “Or unicorns who might want to live here because of the tree?”
“Uh…” Sundance gave it some thought before he replied, “Both?”
“Any magic done in the vicinity of this trunk will be stronger by a magnitude. Not just unicorn magic, mind you, but earth pony and pegasus pony magic as well. This is a precious asset.” Paradox seemed different somehow, more confident, and her voice wasn’t as meek as usual. She almost seemed as though she was about to say something else, but then she rubbed her cheek against the old grey wood, which left behind a smear of dirt on her vivid orange hide.
While Sundance did not understand magic, he knew that Paradox was having a wizard moment. Rather than be upset over what he could not feel, what he could not share, he chose to be happy for her. Coming here to this place was hard on her, and she had found something that gave her life a bit of needed meaning, some purpose. He hoped it would be enough to smooth over some of the rough edges.
And—if Sundance was lucky—Lemongrass might get a passing magical education.
“We’ll need to lay out a foundation of gravel,” Corduroy said, taking charge. “Otherwise, the wood will rot into the ground. Proper drainage will be important. That crack that runs down the side, we’ll face that upward and build a cupola over it, and have some windows so that light can get in. The end with all the roots… those can be woven together and closed off, I think. If Turmeric is up for it, that is. As for the other end, I’m pretty sure I can connect it to a stone tower. Not a big one, just a useful space for books. More like a really tall bookshelf.”
“Foresee any big problems, Corduroy?” asked Sundance.
“A lack of insulation,” she replied. “But that’s true of almost everything here.”
“Where do we put it?” somepony asked.
Floodgate was quick to reply. “Drainage will be important, just like Corduroy said. There’s bedrock on the rise next to the waterfall basin, the flat area that leads to the outcropping of rock where the Milord’s tower once stood. We can even dig out a cellar into the canyon wall. Corduroy’s claws will make short work of the granite and that will give us the gravel we need.”
“Hmm.” Sundance’s jaw muscles went taut as he turned his head to look at the rise mentioned by Floodgate.
It was a raised area, had a natural earthwork ramp that led up to it, and it was from the rise that one climbed the steep slope to reach the old tower—which was no longer there. A keep had once stood in that area, Cucumber had told him that, and now, with all of the changes, it seemed fitting to rebuild there. Having a home on the rise would give Paradox access to the promontory, the high overlook, which would no-doubt be beneficial.
If there was another owlbear attack, she could rain down wizardly destruction from up there.
After a moment, Sundance became aware of the fact that everypony was staring at him, waiting for some kind of response. Well, everypony and everydoggy. Even Paradox did so, and seemed anxious as she fidgeted in place. It occurred to him that this was a major decision. Something that would affect the barony long term. He eyeballed the rise and tried to imagine what a small keep would look like built on there. As flat as it was, as perfect as it was, he realised that a lot of work had gone into what had once been a foundation.
A fortified keep was no longer a necessity.
“Help me out here,” he said to Corduroy. “If we built this hollow log house up there, there’d still be room for another dwelling or two, right?”
The diamond dog did not reply right away, but her keen eyes seemed to be measuring the available space. After what felt like a few minutes, she replied, “We’d have to have the trunk close to the canyon wall, but not too close. We need good drainage, so the wood won’t stay wet. If we place the trunk along the back edge, with part of it beneath the overhang, we’d use less than half of the available space. Something else could be built up there. Have something in mind, Sundance?”
“Yes,” he responded, but he did not reveal his plans. “What about the tower?”
“Well, if we put the rooted end under the overhang, the tower should fit right there, on that corner. Wouldn’t look too bad, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Sire, a good project is just what we need,” said Floodgate.
“Yeah!” Pea strode forward, his harness chains rattling. “A project.”
Rocky Ridge moved to stand beside Pea, and her chains rattled as well. “I’m in the mood to pound gravel.”
“Very well then,” Sundance said to the gathered crowd. “Corduroy, you’re in charge. Do whatever is necessary, because I know absolutely nothing about this stuff. Make this happen. No rush, no hurry, and don’t do anything to strain or otherwise hurt yourselves.”
Much to his surprise, a rousing cheer could be heard from the gathered crowd.
Corduroy lifted her left paw. “Let’s get to work, ponies!”