But there were many who believed that there were still fruits in the great tree, that they were all just at the furthest tips of the branches. Far beyond where anyone has ever climbed, and even at the very top of the tree.
So they gathered their axes and circled the bottom of the great tree, and they chopped. For many days and many moons they chopped at the base of the great tree. Until one day it finally began to give.
The great tree fell. But as it fell it grew, and it grew, and it grew. And with one great crash that shook the four corners of the lands, the great tree crumbled.
And its bark and trunk, with all its grooves and ridges, formed the mountains and valleys. And its roots which held and maintained the cycle of water became the rivers and lakes.
But its branches, with all its fruits that were sought after, fell the furthest and grew the longest. Many many lands beyond our reaches and many many heights above, where even the clouds dare not trespass. And up there, far far out of the reaches of everyone, the fruits continue to grow peacefully.
And after many thousands of moons have passed, the whole sky was filled with the glow of the great trees fruits.