//------------------------------// // T(h)ree // Story: Lupine Tree // by wille179 //------------------------------// Of all the Everfree’s species I’d been considering cultivating to defend myself, poison joke hadn’t been my first choice. I’d been planning defenses from the first day, but only recently had Zecora imparted enough knowledge of the Everfree’s organisms for me to make a choice. In the end, it was the easiest to care for and one of the few that wouldn’t hurt me or my allies as well. Originally, I’d planned to use thundercap or wondercap, two closely related species of magical mushroom. Both grew in rings, and both were extremely lethal to those that foolishly stepped into said ring. I’d lost, and subsequently been forced to regrow, the transmission seeds of wolves that accidentally wandered inside. Subsequent investigation told that they only activated when something living was inside their circle and above the level of the caps. I’d rolled a seed in each without problems, but the moment I lifted it to take it out, the traps spring. Thundercap, as the name implies, fires bolts of lightning at the intruder, a purely defensive mechanism. Wondercap, however, is downright malicious. According to Zecora, wondercap rings create illusions that lure mammalian creatures in (I don’t see them), and the moment that they cross the border, they get whisked away to somewhere else, never to return. Where? I’m not even sure it’s a real place. Mix Alice in Wonderland with a great acid trip; that’s basically what my wolf saw before the connection was forcefully cut a few seconds later when the transmission seed simply stopped working. But, while I may not use them for defense, I know how to make and use a substance I call “fairy dust” out of wondercap. It’s useful for getting rid of particularly stubborn problems that a spear or claw alone can’t fix, and it’s something I have started cultivating for myself. The mare that I was looking at now barely resembled the mare I had seen the other day. Her mane and coat were disheveled, and her eyes had shopping-spree sized bags under them, which only further accentuated their bloodshot appearance. Even her posture seemed disheveled. It was hard to imagine that it had been only a single day and night since our encounter — just over twenty four hours. For a human to get that messed up by comparison, it would have taken three days of substituting coffee for sleep. Well, humans are endurance predators. That’s not really a fair comparison to make, now that I think about it. Regardless of what my logic told me, her appearance still surprised me when she emerged from Rarity’s home. To my severe disappointment, the dragon didn’t look nearly as weary. Taur’s purposefully carved, featureless mask helped hide my mixed emotions. “Princess Twilight Sparkle. Spike the Dragon. Good afternoon.” “Hello, Lumber Jack.” Twilight nodded. A few strands of her mane magically floated to me, and I accepted them. She remembered the exchange. Happily, I pulled out one of my apples from a little pouch I’d made on the inside of my cloak and tossed it to her. She gave it a sleepy glance. “Mind if I eat this? Or is that not what I do.” “Go ahead.” I waved a hand dismissively. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten yet today.” She bit into the metallic fruit, and then hummed, apparently pleased. “Heh, you know, that’s a really cool looking body,” Spike remarked. “Didn’t know that timberwolves could come in a centaur shape, or get that big. And what kind of fur is that?” I cocked my puppet’s head to the side. He was... complimenting me? “Um... thanks. But it’s not finished yet. And it’s manticore.” “Manticore!” He, along with Rarity, who had led me here, exclaimed. I nodded. “Wow. I wish I was strong enough to fight a manticore,” Spike said dreamily. Well, if I was correct, he’d be big enough to squash a manticore soon enough. The Everfree's own resident, fire-breathing menace sure was. “Anyway, I got your letter.” Twilight perked up. “Let’s go see that tree. I’ll try not to freak out so badly this time.” Her head and ears all drooped back down. Her eyes darted away from me. “I’m sorry. If I’d known-” “Save it. Let’s just get this over with.” We soon made it to her former home. I glanced through the darkened window and found that she had indeed cleared it all out. Considering all the books she’d had, she must have worked really fast. Kneeling down at the base of the trunk, I placed my Taur’s wooden hand on a root, the part of the tree where the mind was held. Hello, I greeted it in the language of the trees. It sobbed, unaware of me. Though I must admit, sobbing was much better than the mad howling I’d heard the last time. Sighing, I tried again, a bit more forcefully. Hello. I am here to help. Please, let me ease your suffering. Now, I should note that I didn’t actually say any of that. Trees have no words, nothing that could be translated in a literal sense. However, we can communicate emotions, ideas, and intent directly. The simple minds of most trees can’t handle very complex ideas, or more than one emotion at a time, but we can communicate well enough. This time the tree acknowledged me, in a way that was akin to making eye contact with a helpful stranger, but at the same time, I got the feeling of a great emptiness. The sobbing continued unabated, and the oak made no effort to return any communication. So, I lay down next to the trunk and let tendrils of my magic gently caress its roots. Shhhh... I’m here. I won’t let the firebreather and the fire pony burn things near you ever again. Rest. Relax. You are safe. A few leaves fell from above, each still very green. It curled my branches to see it in such a state. I... I... I.... The oak finally replied, if you could call repeatedly sending the feeling of self to me as communication. Still, it was something. I stroked its roots again. You can tell me. I want to help you. The branches above me shuddered, an act that drew the ponies’ and dragon’s attention upwards. Pain. That was what it showed me. It wasn’t the pain of having sapwood damaged, although elements of that were in there; no, it was the pain of being used while gaining nothing. It was the pain of watching your seeds be destroyed and swept away right in front of you, knowing that they would never sprout. It was the pain of being subjected to your most primal fear day in and day out, without respite, and knowing that it was inside of your very being. It was the pain of a shattered soul. I... want... Nothing... Nothing. That word has a very different meaning to the forest. There is nothing that stops living in the forest; the trees, even when dead, support a plethora of life. Animals that die support decomposers that then feed the trees. There is nothing that stops living, but anything that lives knows of the Nothing, the silence that comes at the end, the irreversible quiet, the hole in the forest that had once been filled. Taur stood once more, and I briefly noticed that the shadows had moved a good bit since I’d laid Taur down. Very well, I shall give you Nothing. “Well?” Twilight asked, hopping towards me even as I moved outwards towards the tree’s drip line. “What happened? Is there anything you can do?” “It is as I suspected. I have spoken with the oak, and I confirmed what my intuition had told me,” I replied cryptically. “I have a medicine here that can help it as it wishes to be helped.” “Trees have medicine?” Twilight Sparkle asked, her voice thickly tinged with surprise. I paused, my Taur’s arm frozen momentarily as it reached for a certain pouch of manticore leather hidden in my robes. “Of sorts.” I finished retrieving it and opened it up. Dipping two fingers inside, I withdrew a pinch of the white powder, a powder that my wolves now all carried for emergencies. Rubbing them together, I let the powder fall back into the pouch. “What’s that? The medicine?” Twilight Sparkle’s gaze was locked on the powder. I nodded. “Part of it. The tree needs love, mercy, and fairy dust.” Spike, nearby, rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that. Everypony knows that fairies aren’t real.” I chuckled, despite the morbid atmosphere. “Wrong kind of fairy dust, Spike.” Turning to the princess, I spoke, “Trees do not have a concept of death like you ponies do; instead, we have the Nothing. A tree that becomes Nothing will never answer again — they will not even produce new shoots. Your tree asked to be Nothing. Will you let me make its pain Nothing?” The princess and all those around her all folded their ears back, or, in the case of Spike, drooped his spines and fins. Some of the reactions were more subtle than others, but I could tell that all of them disliked the news. “I wanted you to help me heal the oak tree, not kill it!” “I don’t kill for the fun of it,” I lied. “If there was anything I could do to help this tree without killing it, without doing what it asked, I would.” That, however, was the truth. “You told me to end its suffering. This is what I can do. This is what it wants me to do. Will you let me grant it euthanasia?” She frowned and looked away. Forming them with a tight jaw, she uttered the words, “Do what you must.” “Very well. I will do my best to end this tree’s suffering. Now, I don’t wish to seem callous,” — who am I kidding, I didn’t care about that at all — “but you said that we’d consider my punishment finished if I helped end the tree’s suffering for you in your letter, right?” That wasn’t exactly what was in the letter; the exact wording was “save the tree.” This probably wasn’t in the spirit of the letter, but I was saving it from its misery. Plus, if I got her to agree to my wording, she couldn't rightly call me out on it, especially since Applejack and Rarity were quietly watching from a little distance away. “We did say we would,” Twilight affirmed begrudgingly. “And have you retrieved everything from within the tree that belongs to you and Spike?” She replied affirmatively. “Then stay back; this medicine is somewhat dangerous to ponies should they get too close. Go join your friends back there.” As they turned and left, I drew out a pinch of the powder and threw it on the ground. Then, moving around the tree’s drip line, I repeated that several more times. After the final pinch, I folded the pouch back up and tucked it away again. Then, I clasped my Taur’s hands together. Deep in the Everfree, I raised my branches up and focused on the wild magic of the Everfree Forest. Zecora said that controlling that magic was impossible, but I knew otherwise. It was something you asked, and guided when it answered, something that I found that I was functionally skilled with. I asked the wild magic of the Everfree, the power that surged forth from the earth and inundated the forest with power, for help. And the Everfree, feeling my intent, answered. And yet, It was a struggle to get it to move beyond the borders; some parasitic, antagonistic force wanted the forest’s magic to stay in the forest. Behind the mask, Taur frowned. Eventually, however, I got the magic to flow where I needed it. Directing it to where I had spilled the spores of the wondercap spores, I gave the magic one single command, one that it could easily understand and would readily obey: grow. The power surged through me, now beyond my control, and forced the spores to sprout and link their mycelium together into one big, artificial fairy ring. The magic, now answering to the wondercap ring instead of me, did what the fungus wanted. The crack of imploding air deafened me, and the shockwave left me struggling to regain my balance. Without any physical ears, however, my centaur puppet recovered far more swiftly than the others. “What in tarnation was that?!” Applejack asked as she helped the others off the ground. I didn’t answer immediately, as I was surveying the crater that had been left when the wondercap forcefully removed the offending oak tree from the soil. Gazing upon the wondercap mushrooms that were left, I cut the magic of the Everfree supporting them, and watched as they withered away. Such a fungus could not survive without the turbulent, wild magic of the forest supporting it. If this had been in the Everfree, the wondercap left would have made a very dangerous trap that would have needed to be dug out; that wasn’t a problem here. I finally answered. Briefly, I described wondercap to them, and what I had done to the tree. Uprooted and unsupported, the tree would not survive for very long at all wherever it landed. They seemed bothered by my explanation and my actions, though they didn't push me on my choice. However, I had a hard time understanding why they were so upset. It was almost as if they didn't understand that there were benefits to death that could outweigh the costs. How naive a way of thinking. True to her word, the Princess did consider my punishment finished, even though she was obviously irritated by how it came about. Personally, I think she might unconsciously blame me a little for the loss of her home, though I have yet to hear her remark as such. I also did discuss expanding business to Eezdraug with Rarity and Applejack; they seemed to like the idea, and were willing to do business. However, they, like the deer merchants, wanted knowledge of what the other town had to offer, assurance that they wouldn't be losing money on a failed investment, and a guarantee that the goods I carried would get there. Rarity suggested that I make a catalog of goods to cover the knowledge portion, but ultimately, I needed a fixed, safe route. Enter Compass Rose. By now, a combination of time and potions had healed her burns completely, leaving her ready to resume her map-making of the Everfree. I sent the cartographer off with a pair of my wolves, with the hopes of finding a fairly easy route for a cart to traverse. It was a shame that there were no motor vehicles in this world, aside from trains; that would have been much better than hauling a cart around. And the thought of a wolf driving a car? That elicited a chuckle from me. I could theoretically use a zeppelin, but that was a little outside of my price range, and the Others memories of the Hindenburg accident made me wary. But of all the things that happened in the days following the removal of the oak, nothing stood out in my memory quite like this. Most of what I had been doing was as mundane as you could get in what the Other would consider a fantasy world — trade negotiations, map making, market investigations, etc. — but there was no doubt that this was magical. It was a box, an opaque crystal, fourteen-sided box, with six keyholes, and it was sitting on a table in Rarity’s home. And, for reasons I could not comprehend, I couldn't bring myself to look away from it once it caught my Taur’s eyes. It also made me cease speaking, a fact that Rarity immediately noticed. “Lumber Jack? What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” I didn't answer the white unicorn; instead, I tried to comprehend the bizarre and not entirely pleasant feelings that the box elicited within me. “That.” I gestured to it. “What is it?” Rarity’s azure eyes followed my clawed finger’s indication. Falling on the box, her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Oh, that’s the chest that the Tree of Harmony gave us when we returned the Elements of Harmony to it.” I remembered her telling me about the Elements earlier, but this was new. And the longer I looked at the box, the less I liked. Why? I have no idea. I could clearly tell that it wasn’t a rational dislike, but at the same time that understanding did nothing to clear up the strange emotions. I trotted my Taur up to it, to take a closer look. “What’s inside?” Rarity shrugged; as a pony, her shoulders went forwards instead of up, but the meaning behind the motion was clear regardless. “We’re not sure. It just grew out of a flower connected to the tree’s roots. We don’t even know where the keys to it are. Twilight’s been studying it for months now, but we’re no closer to unlocking it.” I reached out towards the strange chest, only to stop and jerk when I was assaulted by a sudden, sharp pain, like a punch to my non-existent gut. It had nothing to do with the box, I do not believe; it merely happened coincidentally at that moment. Rarity had seen my puppet jerk. “Jack?” Waving dismissively, I replied, “No, I’m fine. I think a rodent just bit one of my roots.” Said root was currently flailing about underground, trying to dislodge the stubborn source of the annoyance. For it was just an annoyance now; the pain had already subsided dramatically. With no further need to discuss the box, and my mood soured just enough for me to no longer be interested in it, I turned back to the seamstress. Yet the box found its way back into my mind repeatedly throughout our conversation. Shoving the thought aside repeatedly failed to keep it buried in the back of my mind. Finally, I could take the pestering thought no more. “Rarity, where is the Tree of Harmony?” “Hm? It’s in a cavern under the castle of the Two Sisters.” Seeing my lack of reaction to the name, she elaborated. “It’s a ruined castle in the Everfree.” “Oh!” I exclaimed. I knew where that was. The hunting was rather poor over there, so I never had any real reason to go that way, but I had seen the castle way back before I’d even met Zecora. In retrospect, I probably should have investigated further. “Why do you ask?” the white mare inquired. “I have a wolf in that area,” I lied. “It felt a similar feeling as what was coming from the Harmony Tree’s box.” There, I’ll let her draw her own conclusions. In reality, I had no wolf over there, nor had I sensed anything of the sort. But I knew four things: ~ One: The Tree of Harmony and its Elements were very powerful. More importantly, they were weaponizable. ~ Two: The tree had apparently played a role in me becoming what I am now, if Zecora and Discord’s implications were correct. ~ Three: The power in that box was eliciting a general feeling of paranoia in me. I would rather sacrifice a wolf and know than risk death by ignorance. ~ Four: Weapons are meant to be used. Weapons are frequently protected from being seized or destroyed by enemies. Thus, I’d quickly decided that any and all of my more detailed investigations into the Tree needed to be done swiftly so that I could ascertain if it was a threat to me. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t; the wolf puppet sprinting at breakneck speeds towards it would find out soon enough. “The tree must be really powerful,” I remarked. Deliberately, I shifted into a more relaxed, friendly stance. “You should tell me about it some time soon. After all, it is my neighbor.” Rarity chuckled. “You’d have to ask Twilight or the other Princesses; I know only a tad more than you.” I probed further. “And what’s that?” “Its magic helps stabilize the Everfree, and keeps it confined.” It clicked. Harmony was order; the Everfree growing unchecked would destabilize that artificially imposed order. I was a chaos demon, so it stood to reason that I would be opposed to it. Were those instinctive emotions Discord’s doing, or something else? But then again, the tree had apparently helped me stabilize and heal, according to Discord. That was the same tree that was apparently connected to the Elements that had sealed him away. Thinking about that only served to confuse me; was it a threat, an ally, or something neutral? My branches shook as a wave of anger crashed down on me. ‘I hate being dependent on the word of others, without the whole picture’ I mentally growled. To Rarity, however, Taur maintained a calm exterior. I just hoped that the Tree of Harmony would be willing to talk. My meeting with Rarity ended shortly before my nearest wolf made it to the castle. In the time between Taur departing from the pony’s home and my wolf arriving at the tree, a strange, hollow feeling had descended upon me. It was strangely alien to me, the source and reason unknown to my conscious mind. Wooden paws pounded on the ground, letting my puppet zip through the dense forest at speeds that would be dangerous for flesh-and-blood creatures. The relatively bright light of a clearing filtered through the trunks of the trees ahead of me, and I put on another burst of speed. The trees parted, and very suddenly, I realized why the forest stopped so suddenly. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to make such a sudden stop myself, and ended up tumbling down into a ravine. With a sickening crunch, one that would have signaled the death of an animal, my puppet hit the bottom with enough force to shatter. The first thing that I realized was that my transmission seed was cracked — not enough to render it unuseable, but enough to weaken the signal and cause me some pain. I knew that it wouldn’t last much longer. That in mind, I set about making it gather the wooden shrapnel back up. With more pieces to move, it took more power to coordinate them, and the influx of power upped the dull ache’s intensity. I forced it anyway, and stood the wolf back up. Half of its face was numb, and the front, left leg was destroyed beyond my ability to fix it, but my wolf could still move. Slowly, barely faster than a fat man’s stroll, my wolf made its way along the length of the ravine, searching for a way up. Instead, it came upon a cave. I spared a glance in, and was amazed by what I saw. There, nestled in the dark, was a radiantly glowing crystal in the shape of a tree. I knew at once that this was the entity I sought, for it radiated with the same presence as the box, but a hundred million times stronger. And the slight, nagging feeling that had left me unsure in the presence of the box had returned full force, and now it came with a reason. The tree’s magic was reaching out to mine, enveloping it and doing... something to it. The best way I could describe it was a metronome reaching out, reaching into the fleshy heart of the Other, and forcing the Other’s heart to beat at its rhythm. Maybe to another timberwolf tree, or to a pony, that would have been a good, calming feeling, but the distinctly human parts of me lashed out. Do not touch me! I barked. To my satisfaction, the magical energy retreated. And yet, in the moment that followed, I yearned for its touch again. But then in the moment after that, my human parts squashed those feelings down, burying them with a simple thought: was the tree’s magic affecting our mind? “Greetings, little one,” the tree spoke directly into my mind. “I am sorry for scaring you. That was not my intent.”  What are you? I barked. And what were you trying to do to me? “The Caretaker,” it replied, mental voice oddly dry and passionless, despite its soothing not-sound. “Though the people of this world know me as the Tree of Harmony. I was simply trying to heal your wounds.” My wolf puppet shuddered involuntarily as the magic supporting it flickered. I am fine, I replied. My seed will fail, and I will grow another. The crystal tree laughed; it was a soothing, yet contradictingly eerie not-sound. “I am aware. No, I refer to the hole in your heart.” The momentary, slight lapse in concentration its statement caused within me was enough for a few wood fragments to drop from my puppet. Pardon? “Your heart, your being, it is wounded. I wish to fix that.” My soul. As in, the embodiment of my being. It has a hole. “Correct.” And you want to “fix” it. “Again, correct. Now, if you’ll-” Fuck off. The tree was silent for a moment. Then it echoed my earlier confusion. “Pardon?” You heard me, I replied, growling threateningly. Fuck. Off. I feel fine, I don’t know you, and I don’t want anything touching my soul. “You are making a mistake,” it warned menacingly. My wolf shuddered again. At the same time, I could feel my magic itself shaking, rolling, and twisting in a way that felt like a good stretch. Taking a ready stance, I spoke through my wolf, Enlighten me, then. “Of course,” the tree-like crystal replied. “You have a chaotic void in the core of your soul that seeks to consume all that it can, and it will only grow. I wish to plug this hole in your soul to protect Harmony.” And the shoe drops... Harmony. Not me, harmony. You know, at first that sounded like some sort of cancer or wound, I answered flatly. But now I see that you want to "protect" the world from me. Strange; I heard that you were involved in me being what I am today. Am I correct? “I only stopped an innocent soul from being devoured by the human’s soul. It was a kindness.” And yet you created me, I countered smugly. Knowing that, perhaps that “chaotic void” is merely human ambition and determination. Why, I’d expect nothing less than that from a persistence predator. The tree was strangely silent. Hm... but when you put it like that, letting you touch my soul seems like an even worse idea. And then when I remember that Discord is actually rooting for me to live as I am, well, it’s not too hard to make a decision. If trees could glare, the vibe I was getting from the tree would have gone hand in hand with a murderous glare. Realizing that I might have made a mistake in mentioning Discord to the Harmony Tree, I turned to make a tactical retreat. But, before I could make it even a quarter of a turn, it spoke four words. “This is a kindness.” The five gems on the branches lit up with a mysterious light, and the star on the middle opened to reveal another, similarly glowing gem. The magic in the room suddenly quadrupled, I knew something bad was going to happen. Instinctively and near instantly, I flared my magic in a very specific way. Transmission seeds could only hold so much magic; overload it, and it would explode like a firecracker. It’s great for protecting myself from magical threats like this, as it severs the channel that the hostile magic would trace back to me. But instead of the seed shattering like I expected it to, something else happened. At that exact moment, something jolted my roots. A wave of pure power shot up my trunk, up my branches, and out to my threatened seed. But rather than shattering like it had hoped, it sprouted. Thick, black, thorny vines grew from seemingly thin air, erupting out of my wolf’s mouth. Moving faster than my magical eyes could follow, they surged through the incoming blast, diverting it around me, before entangling the tree. I had no idea what they were, where had come from, or why I could somehow feel with them. All I knew was that the vines had deflected the blast. And the vines kept coming. More and more, in a seemingly infinite stream, they poured out of my wolf’s mouth. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t control them. I- My attention was suddenly and forcefully returned to my real body. The wolf puppet’s senses had suddenly gone dark, providing me only with the sensation of the magic around it. And to add to that, I could no longer control it. But that was the least of my worries. The same vines were surging up from the ground around me, entwining themselves around my trunk and the trunks of every ally in my grove. I panicked. One of my wolves bit into a vine, attempting to remove it. I was only rewarded with pain. Not from the wolf itself — rather, the pain came from the vine itself, as if it was my own branch. In that momentary, surprise-created pause, I realized that I could feel all of the vines. And, to top it off, they had no voice. All plants, even the grasses, had a voice. The only logical explanation for why they wouldn’t, why I could feel with them, was if they were part of me. Experimentally, I willed one to flex like I did with my roots and branches; lo and behold, it moved. Not only that, but it moved easily. Compared to my roots, this was practically an octopus tentacle. With no pain and no immediate threat, I wasn’t panicking, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but become contemplative. Where had these vines come from? What were they? They sure as hell didn’t look like a part of me, nor did they look even remotely similar to anything I’d ever seen on any timberwolf before. And what had happened with my wolf? Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t feel it at all any more. The puppet’s connection had been completely severed. Thankfully, the Tree of Harmony hadn’t hurt me, but after whatever the hell happened there, I certainly wasn't going back for more. A small thud drew the attention of one of my wolf puppets. It spotted my next transmission seed pod rolling on the ground. Scooping it up in its mouth, my wolf trotted away with it to gather some wood for the replacement transmitter. My branches drooped a bit, relaxing; at least that was one less thing to worry about. Sheesh. I knew I’d been bored lately, but this was something else. Just half an hour ago, I’d been discussing trade deals and business contacts with Rarity, and now all this had happened. May I live in interesting times, indeed. My lycanthropic puppet pounded its fist on the door of the hut. “Zecora! Are you in there?” “Yes, yes, I am coming,” the zebra called from within. “Please stop your loud drumming!” The door was then yanked open with slightly more force than strictly necessary, but the zebra behind it was smiling politely. “Hello, Lumber Jack. What has you coming back?” “What is this?” I demanded, practically shoving a sample of the vines in her face. She recoiled slightly at the sudden intrusion into her personal space, blinked, and then took a look at the proffered clippings. “This, Jack, is a creation of Discord, a plunder vine,” she replied. “That you have a fresh clipping is a bad sign.” “Plunder vines? You mean those plants that attacked shortly before I arrived? I thought you said that they were all destroyed.” “Indeed, I thought that they were. It seems that their destruction did not entirely occur,” Zecora said. “We must alert the Princess and her friends, so that this threat they may cleanse.” “Wait.” Zecora’s eyes jumped from the vine up to my puppet’s glowing eye holes. “They’re growing out of me.” I quickly explained what had happened, willfully neglecting the fact that I had been visiting the Tree of Harmony. It left Zecora with a curious expression. “Hmmm... I suspect that I know what has transpired, and how these vines you have acquired. The seeds of the plunder vines were here before the Everfree. Above the unsprouted seeds grew your tree. Around the seeds, your roots did entwine. It is possible you have been grafted to the vine.” Root grafting? The Other had heard of that, but had only thought it was between plants of the same species. And while they knew it was possible to graft on clippings of one plant onto another, they didn’t think it happened naturally. I voiced as much to Zecora. “Ah, but even among your own kind, you are a highly magical tree,” she replied sagely. “It is possible that your power harmonized you and the vines to a degree.” “And do you think this could hurt me?” Zecora frowned. “In truth, I do not know. But in my gut, I do not think so. If you have truly fused, then we should leave it be. All we can do now is wait and see.” I hoped she was right, but that didn’t mean I was going to just sit around and do nothing. The vines were Discord’s creation; I figured it was about time I paid him a visit on my own terms.