//------------------------------//
// 3 - Airy 
// Story: Be Still 
// by AugieDog 
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"The Tree of Harmony." Starlight Glimmer's left eye twitches. "Attending the first Amity Ball since I became headmare." Her smile spreads further along her muzzle than I believe should be possible for that portion of pony anatomy. "Welcome! Yes! Of course you're welcome!"

Suffice it to say that we do indeed hit the party like Smolder's prophesied pyroclastic flow, but instead of destruction, we bring glamour and excitement and an undeniable panache to the proceedings. At the start of the affair, being mindful of my complete dependence upon my friends for my very presence, we remain in quite close proximity. But as the evening progresses and I am truly able to plumb how solidly the bond stretches between us, I encourage them to mingle with their fellow students.

They do, but only, it turns out, to bring the other students one by one or two by two over to meet me. They are all wide-eyed and nearly glowing with life, and while interacting with them doesn't make me glow any brighter, I certainly feel as if I am. And when a clearing of throat behind me reveals Yona and Sandbar leading Rockhoof and Somnambula to the spot along the wall where I've planted myself—figuratively speaking—for the evening?

I'm unashamed to issue a joyous squeal like the foal I never was at seeing nearly one-third of my parents, and I proceed to fall into a long, delightful conversation with them. Even better, during the course of this exchange, a glance to the side reveals Gallus and Silverstream laughing and spinning through one of the dances designed for the more aerially inclined among the guests.

The good sort of bubbles return to my interior in full force.

Of course, as Gallus pointed out when this all began, I can't taste any of the food nor smell any of the flowers. But I eagerly drink in the sights and the sounds, make a few sights and sounds of my own, and in general enjoy myself immensely. My friends seem to be similarly enraptured, and as we all walk back to my complex after the festivities have run their course, the motions and emotions seem to spark through the night as brightly as the stars overhead. The group dynamics alone nearly discorporate me into a glowing plasma of pleasure!

For we are seven individuals, and the weighty but inconsequential talk of the evening's events ebbs and flows from each of us. But at the same time, we are a unit, a collective, a company, a singular, a group of friends sharing a bond of dreams and ideas.

Further, I can detect smaller cells overlaid upon those two paradigms—Yona and Sandbar to my left rubbing shoulders and growing warmer with every step we take, even when we enter the Everfree's darkness; Gallus and Silverstream to my right, desperately trying to mask an attraction that nonetheless quivers to my senses like swirling flights of hummingbirds; Smolder between Gallus and me, Ocellus between Sandbar and me, the two of them connected by more subtle strands of affection, just as strong but quieter, less flashy.

And at the center of this entire conglomeration?

Me.

Not through any merits of my own: when first we met, after all, I was forcing them to face their worst fears, grabbing them roughly and shaking them to demonstrate that they were indeed worthy of friendship, were truly capable of friendship, were in fact already involved in multiple friendships that were going to change everything they ever thought they knew about the world and in a very real sense were going to change the world itself. In my then ignorance, I forced myself upon them, and they responded by taking me in, their otherness responding to my otherness with an offer of kinship.

To call it exquisite seems too small. Incandescent? Transcendent? Ecstatic?

My hoofs begin tingling, and we emerge from beneath the forest canopy to see my complex ahead, the field my roots generate reaching out to welcome me back and exchange memories with the older, colder, more crystalline part of my consciousness that's been sitting here all night quietly fretting.

Reassurances flow through my entire being in a way that's analogous to my friends and me moving through my gate into the courtyard, and I'm unable to keep from leaping into the air, to interrupt the languid discussion of weekend plans and assignments due Monday with an expression of my joy. "I wish to thank you for tonight, all of you, but words of sufficient strength don't seem to exist in my vocabulary. And I wish even more strongly to apologize for the trials to which I subjected you upon the occasion of my introducing myself last year. It's an apology I should've made long ago, and it pains me to recall how—"

"Yeesh, Tree." Smolder gives a coughing little laugh. "It's no big deal."

All my leaves bristle despite the lack of breeze. "Forgive me, Smolder, but this is a point that—"

"Fine." She rolls her eyes. "You're forgiven." Turning from one side of our group to the other, she spreads her claws. "Right, guys? She's forgiven?"

"Oh, yeah," Sandbar says, Yona nodding beside him. "But now that Tree's home, me and Yona, we'll, uhhh..." His cheeks practically glow in the dim light of my main structure behind us. "We'll be heading back to school."

Smolder arches an eyeridge. "Really?"

Yona gives as perfect a wink as any organic being ever has. "Friends should not wait up for Yona and Sandbar."

Ocellus giggles, but Gallus and Silverstream seem more petrified than anything else; if they weren't standing on my flagstones, I wouldn't be able to tell they were still breathing.

Folding her arms, Smolder puffs a smoke ring from one nostril. "Well, then, you kids have fun. Heading back to school, I mean."

Sandbar continues blushing, but he heads for my gate when Yona nudges him in that direction, the two of them picking up speed as they go.

Not that they'll go far. They have a favorite spot along my western wall, a small grotto where they often come to snuggle among the ferns, the hyacinth, and the hydrangeas. Not that I spy on them, of course: it's simply that I'm pervasive throughout my complex. They must know I'm present, I tell myself, and perhaps even seek me out for safety and the shelter I provide from the less amicable beings that still dwell within the Everfree.

Sensing their slow-but-steady progress around my outer walls, I can't help but notice the silence that's fallen within the courtyard, Gallus and Silverstream trying so hard not to look at each other that the air is practically going opaque between them.

With Ocellus giggling again and Smolder blowing more smoke, I have to assume that I'm not the only one to notice. "Hey, Ocellus," Smolder says then, "how 'bout we say good night to Tree and head back to school as well? Though when I say 'head back to school,' I actually mean 'head back to school.'"

Another giggle, and Ocellus nods. "I think that's a splendid idea. Good night, Tree." She cocks her head at Gallus and Silverstream, the innocence she's projecting very nearly dripping with subterfuge. "And I suppose we'll see the two of you at school tomorrow?"

"Yes," Gallus says, but he draws the word out for several seconds, the pitch of it rising and falling and twisting the pronunciation in ways I'm fairly certain it was never meant to be twisted.

"Exactly." Silverstream is shivering, but I'd be willing to bet that it's neither with cold nor with fear. "We'll see you. At school. Tomorrow."

For a moment, Smolder looks as if she might want to emit more than just smoke, but then she turns and strides purposefully toward my gate, Ocellus giggling along beside her.

Leaving me alone with two creatures who, I'm again fairly certain, would rather be alone without me.

Inspiration strikes, and I attempt to manipulate my mobile self in such a way that I yawn. Judging from the alarm on my friends' face, however, I don't succeed, so I add verbally, "Well, it's been a lovely, event-filled evening, so if you don't mind, I believe I'll be settling into a more dormant state." Wanting to reassure them while simultaneously presenting the appearance of absence, I go on: "But if for any reason you find you need anything of me, simply speaking my name will pierce my dormancy."

"Thanks, Tree," they both mumble, their gazes pointing in every direction except at each other.

Giving a nod, I let my mobile sink into the flagstones and try as I've never tried before not to notice, not to sense, not to gather any greatly detailed knowledge concerning whatever might be going on within my precincts.

The analogy, I imagine, would be an organic creature asking blood not to flow through certain limbs.

The pressure and placement, for instance, of Gallus and Silverstream's footpads upon my floor tells me that they're walking very close together through my front room, up the stairs, and into the back room with the lovely view of the night sky over the forest. I therefore focus my visual acuity along those hallways through which they're not treading. In a similar way, the increasing warmth across the cushions of a certain sofa indicate that they've settled together into a spot that in all my previous experience as a structure has only ever been occupied by a single individual. As a result, I concentrate my audio abilities everywhere except that room.

As expected, my attempts fail. Yes, I certainly find many fine and interesting things upon which to turn my attention—Princess Twilight has definitely taken to her task of arranging the night sky, for instance, and the Everfree teems with many interesting nocturnal species. But how can I look away entirely when two of my dearest friends in the world are gazing into each other's eyes and stroking one another's faces? How can I deafen myself to Gallus murmuring, "You're so beautiful..." or Silverstream sighing, "Your scent's just incredible..."?

When their beaks begin touching, however, I redouble my efforts to divert myself. Of course, since Yona and Sandbar are likewise tasting each other along my western wall, my options are rather limited.

Still, I'm determined! If only I'd thought to gather their necklaces before they all left, I might find it easier to ignore them...

The necklaces remind me of the party, and I quickly turn my thoughts to a review of my conversation with Rockhoof and Somnambula. This rouses the older and deeper parts of my crystalline structure, stretching my perceptions in a way that effectively causes external time to pass more swiftly. So I encourage the process by recreating the scene in as detailed a fashion as I can, recalling the delight those two expressed when I invited them to visit my new complex, asking them for news of the other Pillars, hearing of their latest exploits throughout modern Equestria and beyond.

This proves a winning strategy in that I'm able to convey my excitement at this unprecedented interaction with the world and the organic beings who fill it in a way that causes even the solid and stolid centers of me to become enlivened. It doesn't stop the incessant Be still from droning through me, however, but I'm able to push it to the side in contrast to these glowing memories. Likewise, I'm able to push the two couples to the back corners of my mind, as it were—

Until halfway through my recitation when the mention of my name ripples through me like a dropped stone through pond water, Silverstream's voice quiet and plaintive: "But Tree says I wouldn't have to be like that."

"Maybe you wouldn't," Gallus replies. He sounds sulky, and their heat signatures are no longer pressed closely against each other. "But I'm never gonna be anything other than what I am. And that's nothing."

Abandoning my recollections, I leap figuratively to my back room and observe Silverstream, her eyes wavering, stretching a pawful of claws toward Gallus where he leans against my wall and stares moodily out the closed balcony door at the night. "You're not nothing!" she says, and her words are wavering, too. "You're so, so special, Gallus! And you make me feel special every time you look at me!"

Gallus's crest feathers are nearly flat against his head, but his scent is more damp with weariness than crunchy with anger. "You are special, Silver. You're a princess and you're beautiful and you bring light and wonder everywhere you go."

She's leaning so far forward, I'm uncertain how she's not falling to my floor. "So are you! I mean, you do, too! I mean, you— I mean—" She shakes her head, water droplets flying from her eyes. "Tree! Please! Come in here and...and tell Gallus how great he is! 'Cause he's not listening to me when I tell him!"

I almost manifest my mobile self directly from the wall beside the sofa, but a sudden wave of shame shivers through me at the thought of revealing to my friends that I've been eavesdropping. So instead, I step out into the hallway, the atoms of my mobile sufficiently agitated to make me warm and solid enough to knock on my door, a decidedly peculiar sensation. "Hello? Silverstream? Gallus? I...I heard you call me?" I very deliberately frame these utterances as questions so that they may reject my approach if they so desire.

Instead, I watch from the walls as Silverstream jumps to the door, wrenches it open, and cries to my mobile, "You said everything was gonna be all right with me being a princess, but Gallus doesn't believe me! So now you have to say it to him, too!" She spins out of the doorway and points a shaking claw at Gallus.

From beside the glass, Gallus looks over his shoulder, his eyes so dry, they seem parched. "Yes," he says, and the pain there is the pain of roots once shattered and regrown pleading silently not to be shattered again. "Tell me, Tree. Tell me how everything'll be all right with Silver being royalty and me being the farthest possible thing from that."

The bubbles within me this time boil with fear, and the analogy feels strong enough to fissure me, filled as it is with the raw anguish I knew when Sombra's magic blasted me to rubble, the despair that almost overwhelmed me when those whom fate and circumstance and a most peculiar connection had chosen as my saviors seemed unable to understand the first thing about me and my message to the world.

But the despair did not overwhelm me, I remind myself. I remained in hope, persevered, and these, my friends, did indeed rise to the occasion and bring me back to life. So I must likewise rise to the occasion and—

And I have the answer. "Princess Cadance," I say, "and Shining Armor."

They both stand blinking at me, then Silverstream's eyes go wide. "Princess Cadance..."

"Shining Armor?" Gallus whirls and waves his arms. "Maybe you didn't notice, but he's famous, a hero, the former Captain of the Royal Guard! I'm a griffon from nowhere with nothing!"

I raise a hoof. "Did he start out famous? A hero? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"He didn't!" Silverstream gasps, her paws clasped in front of her chin. "He started out as just a regular unicorn! But then he joined the Royal Guard and became famous and a hero and the captain!" Her whole body seems to be vibrating, her gaze intent on Gallus. "And then?"

The feathers on Gallus's neck puff out, and his beak drops open. "Then he married the princess..." he more whispers than says.

"Yes!" Silverstream's wings flare, and she swoops across the room to wrap her arms around Gallus. "And they all lived happily ever after!"

Gallus is standing as still as a statue in Silverstream's embrace. "Join the Royal Guard? I...I prob'bly could with Princess Twilight on the throne: she's the whole reason I'm even here, right?" His claws come up to rest on Silverstream's shoulders, and the bubbles within me once again coruscate with joy when the expression he turns upon her grows as serious as any I've ever seen on his face. "It'd take a lotta time and a lotta work for me to become captain, but with you there, I can do it." He smiles then, and seeing Silverstream's knees shiver, I feel a shiver passing through various sections of my own trunk. "For you, I can do anything."

"We'll write," she says, gazing up into his eyes. "All the time. And we'll go on dates when I come visit Equestria 'cause I'll be the princess in charge of visiting Equestria. I'll make sure that's what I am." She cuddles her head against his chest. "And once we've done everything the way we're supposed to, we can get married and be together. And it'll be wonderful."

"It will. It is..." Gallus bends down to caress her beak with his.

The older, colder, more crystalline parts of me wonder in a desultory fashion if these two aren't perhaps acting a bit precipitously, but I stifle any such notion, completely certain that I would be shedding actual moisture from my tear ducts if my mobile self possessed such things. "Anything I can do to help," I say, not sure I should speak but completely unable to stop myself from doing so, "just let me know, and I'll do it."

"Oh, Tree!" Silverstream somehow flips around, hauling Gallus across the room with her to enfold the two of us in her embrace. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You've always been such a wonderful friend!"

Gallus coughs a little laugh. "When you're not, y'know, torturing us with our greatest fears and all, she means."

"I do mean that!" She gives his cheek a little peck, then gives mine one as well. "So if you could just keep doing what you do for as long as it takes, we'll keep doing what we need to do for as long as it takes! While we're at school, we'll date and snuggle and learn and graduate, and then we'll grow into the creatures we need to be to become the creatures we want to be, and then everything will be better than wonderful!"

Pressed between them, their feathers and fur interacting with the warmth generated by my modified manifestation magic, I'm swept up in connections that crackle like lightning from my deepest root to my uppermost bough. The two impulses competing withing me! They're analogous to the impulses within my two friends!

Had I breath, I would be gasping. For Gallus in his despair felt driven to fold himself closed while Silverstream in her exuberance desired to open outward. Interacting with each other, however, has caused them to exchange properties: if Gallus wishes to be with Silverstream, he must open himself in unaccustomed ways, and if Silverstream wishes to be with Gallus, she must return to roots with which she's not entirely comfortable.

Be still, I've been telling myself. This doesn't mean to become stagnant. It means, as Silverstream has said, to become the being I already am. To continue continuing. To grow but to also remain. To still be. To be still.

Inside me, crystalline chimes are quietly ringing while the air around me is awash with the sweet scents of my two friends. "I will," I say. "For as long as I'm needed and by whomever I'm needed, I will be still, and I will still be."