Star Swirl the Bearded stepped into the gorge where the Tree of Harmony had once thrived, weaving together all of the untidy threads that ran throughout the realm, keeping away monsters both literal and metaphorical. At the moment, all that remained was a jagged stump cruelly stabbed with chunks of dark crystal. The stench of dark magic hung in the once-pristine alcove, but the old sorcerer pressed through it toward the battered remnants and reverently removed his hat.
It was strange – he and the other Pillars had only just planted the Tree before they had sent themselves to Limbo. From Star Swirl's perspective, he had known the Tree for just a little over a year. And yet it was his creation, and his magic had been connected to the Tree. He felt like he’d lost part of himself.
Two sets of hoofsteps approached from behind. Star Swirl didn't have to turn around to know who they were.
The larger of the two moved forward to stand next to the sorcerer as he heaved a sigh. “Another relic from our time gone.”
“Yes,” Star Swirl said quietly. “It was beautiful. I spent some time studying the Tree of Harmony and the Cutie Map, and I believe the Spirit of Harmony was starting to become self-aware. If I'm correct, King Sombra didn't just destroy a relic, he murdered a sapient being.” Star Swirl's throat felt unusually tight.
“Ach, poor tree! I'm sorry, Star Swirl. I meant no offense.”
Star Swirl looked up at Rockhoof then, widening his eyes slightly at the younger stallion's appearance. His mane and tail were disheveled, with strands of auburn hair flying out of his braids, and he had bags under his eyes.
“It's all right.” Star Swirl's voice softened. “You didn't know.”
“I didn't know the Tree at all,” said a soft voice to Star Swirl's left. “But I know it was important to my friends.”
Star Swirl turned to face Stygian and raised his eyebrows. If Rockhoof seemed like he was in rough shape, Stygian had changed in the opposite manner. He had gotten his hair cut and brushed away from his forehead, and his blue eyes were brighter than the last time Star Swirl had seen the young unicorn.
“Indeed. It was good of you to come, Stygian. And if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have planted the Tree in the first place. In a way, you did have a hoof in its formation.”
Stygian gave him a wan smile. “It does my heart good to know that something positive came from my misdeeds. I regret not getting to know the Tree when I had the chance.” His smile faded as he added in a quieter voice, “Anyway, I had to come. I couldn't let Rockhoof walk down here alone.”
The older unicorn frowned and turned back toward the earth pony. “I thought you were feeling better, Rockhoof.”
“I was. I found a new purpose and a reason to get out of bed in the morning and not want to disappear from the face of the planet at night.” Rockhoof's ears drooped. “But that does not make up for what I have lost.”
“If you ever think about turning into a statue again, tell me,” Stygian said sincerely. “I know what it's like to have darkness take over your thoughts. You feel like there is no escape, that you can only spiral downward and drag everypony down with you.”
Rockhoof toed the ground and glanced away. “Well,” he said, “I do not know if it is the same kind of darkness.”
“No? You'll only hurt yourself and not others, is that it?” Stygian asked with a frown.
Star Swirl was starting to feel out of his depth, since empathy was a skill that he was still learning.
Rockhoof winced. “I do not have the guts. If I had, I would have already joined my parents in their watery grave.”
“Do you want that?” asked Stygian, his voice growing quiet once more.
“Not anymore,” Rockhoof said with conviction. “I could not do that to Yona. It would break her wee heart.”
“That is good to hear,” said Star Swirl, struggling to find his proverbial footing on the shaky ground. “Yona is one of the young creatures who saved the world from the magic-draining spell. It is an important job to inspire and train a new hero.”
“I suppose I inspire her, but I do not know what I am teaching her,” said Rockhoof with a little shrug.
“What do you think? Your stories are teaching Yona how to be a hero!” Stygian lifted his foreleg. “They're teaching her how to stand firm in the face of impossible odds to protect her friends.”
“I suppose you're right, lad.” A small but genuine smile formed on Rockhoof's face. “I have never thought of storytelling as teaching. I tell stories because they're fun, and they entertain other creatures.”
“Does good always triumph over evil in your stories?” asked Stygian.
“Oh, aye.” Rockhoof nodded. “I cannot leave the crowd feeling unhappy.”
“Your stories set a positive example for the young creatures to model,” said Star Swirl. “Have you ever considered becoming an author? That way you could share your stories with the world!”
“Well, I did finally learn to read and write Modern Ponish, but I am no scholar. Besides, I'm not one to sit behind a desk. I prefer to act out my stories!” The earth stallion flexed his giant foreleg.
“You could still tell stories in front of a crowd, but I think you should try writing them down in your free time.” Stygian's eyes lit up. “I've found it to be quite therapeutic.”
“I suppose it's worth a try.” Rockhoof's shoulders rippled. “If I did write a story, the first one would be about the Tree of Harmony.” He held out his hoof toward the Tree’s remains.
“I think that would be a fitting tribute.” Following Rockhoof’s gesture, Star Swirl turned back to the crystal stump and carefully touched it with his hoof. “The Tree was the most magical being ever to live. It was more powerful than the Lord of Chaos himself.”
“The Tree was all of the things you heroes made it to be,” added Stygian, brushing aside a creeping vine. “It was magical, strong, and beautiful.”
“And if it was self-aware, it was brave, hopeful, and nurturing,” continued Star Swirl.
“The Tree did a lot of good,” said Rockhoof. “It gave of itself to keep the realm safe for generations. Even after its Elements were separated, it was strong enough to keep the monsters under control. Ponies have not suffered any casualties of war under the sheltering branches of this magnificent Tree.”
Stygian's eyes wavered. “What will we do without it?”
“We will do what we did before we planted the magic seed,” Star Swirl said firmly. “We will challenge any foe of Harmony. The world might have darkness in it, but there is more light now than there was before we went to Limbo. And there are more great heroes now than there were then.”
“Aye,” agreed Rockhoof. “Hard as it may seem, the world will move on without the Tree of Harmony.”
Stygian floated a tiny magenta fragment in his aura before setting it onto the Tree's roots. “I'd like to build a memorial for it, so it won't be forgotten like I was before I became myself again. Or the way Luna was forgotten before she came back.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” replied Star Swirl. “A written account is a good start, but we should honor the Tree with a monument as well. But I would like to wait until the other Pillars arrive to ask their opinion. And I also think that the citizens of this city should have a say in how to memorialize the Tree. After all, they knew it longer than we did.”
Stygian offered a little smile. “You're waiting to hear the other Pillars' opinions? You have grown.”
Star Swirl laughed the way most mourners eventually do at a wake. “It was bound to happen some time. It just took me much longer than most.”