The Smell of Mint Flowers

Seeing

One morning she woke, more alert than last time. She gave as much of a stretch as she could in her little den, registering that her hibernation had come to an end. At last, she could see for herself what Cron had done to fix the space.

It was easy for her to climb up and out of the evergreen, pausing to gaze around the changed interior of her sanctuary. The dust was gone, the wooden walls straight and firm, the weeds were tended to, even the moss looked cleaner and healthier than previous times she'd seen it.

Well then.

With a small leap, she jumped off her tree and to the ground. Her magic slowed her descent, making her skirts flutter dramatically until she set hoof on the cobblestone floor. She noticed the roof didn't have any accidental holes anymore, more watertight than it'd been for the past... several years, at least.

Going to the door, she noticed that it too had been mended. What used to be a rickety old door that jammed more than it moved, was now a simple modest sliding wooden door, with shiny new metal tracks on the inside of the temple instead of the other way as it'd been built.

And that was just the inside, she mused, opening the door without further hesitation.

Less work had been done here. Some weeds were pruned or removed altogether, but a number of the cobblestones were still uneven; mostly outside. The tall narrow stone was still leaning to the side too.

The snowfall had seemed to be moved to the sides of the courtyard, judging by the larger piles melting on the short grass. The sun shone brightly today, promising warmer weather to come with large fat clouds drifting lazily in the sky. A few streaks of low-lying clouds dragged along the ground now and then. Beautiful spring day, really. Perfect weather for some preseason gardening.

She shut the door behind her, more out of habit than anything else, and moved towards the center of the courtyard. Several garden beds had been built in decades past, of all sorts of shapes and sizes. Some had ivy and other vines climbing metal lattice arches, leading to overgrown walking paths and hiking trails. A few of them even led to a small, modest little cottage to the east of her sanctuary. What used to serve as a home for the caretakers of these grounds. Used no more.

Cron had mentioned fixing it up, she recalled.

For once in a very long time, she felt the need to tend to her space, to nurture the plants here. She decided to start in the center and work her way out, heading around her sanctuary to the growing beds hidden away back there.

She worked the soil, over and over, until it was a mindless task she could sink into. Her mind was still and calm, unburdened by the state of everything here and her uncertain future and the nonexistent belief that fueled her magic.

Though, that didn't seem to be true anymore.

Cron believed in her existence, even if he didn't know it. He accepted her for what she was: a lonely woman on top of a mountain with a snow-covered green thumb. In fact, she felt rejuvenated by his presence. The heart-to-heart they'd had a while back had been completely honest. Cron reminded her of inner strengths she'd forgotten in her isolation. She was incredibly grateful for it, now. Tilling and working the earth beneath her fingers felt good again, getting her hands dirty and know something good would come of it.

The soil needed water, she decided.

Just then a pail of water was put next to her, causing her to startle slightly. She jerked her gaze up to find Cron smiling down at her with perfect understanding. He must have fixed the water pump and its shabby pipes to get such clean water, she mused as she glanced into the bucket. The last few caretakers had taken to saving and melting ice and snow for watering the gardens, with mixed results.

"Thank you," slipped past her lips in an automatic show of manners, dipping her hands into the water to bring handfuls to the garden bed one scoop at a time, working the soil between each. The water quickly turned a murky brown, but Cron didn't seem anxious to change it.

In fact, he was staring at her.

Staring at . . . She paused, realizing that Cron was looking at her, not through her or in her general direction (though he'd gotten quite good at pinpointing her location by her voice alone). The implications of that came to the forefront of her mind as she looked back up to see the young mortal's face.

As she thought, he was looking right at her.

Keeping her fluttering nerves to a minimum, she raised a single eyebrow. "Is there something on my face?"

Cron jumped, startled, and then blushed, looking to the side embarrassed.

"N-No, sorry. I uh." He glanced back at her. Specifically, at her ears and antlers, she noticed.

She grinned. "Different than what you expected, I presume."

He tensed, backpedaling quickly. "Well, I mean, sort of. Yes. I didn't know what to expect, actually. But uh. Can't say I don't like it."

She giggled, turning back to the soil under her hands, "No need to be so worried, Cron. I get very similar reactions among newcomers." Cocking her head, she added, "Some caretakers too were startled at first."

That seemed to ease his anxiety, and he relaxed. "Glad I didn't upset you or anything. Did you get the actuator to work the way you wanted?"

Giving a small hum, she replied, "I don't have any kind of mechanics on me."

Cron paused, confused, but she didn't answer right away. Instead, she focused on the other growing bed, the first deemed worked enough to rest for now. She moved the bucket with her as she moved to kneel before the other growing bed. She felt him watching her closely, thinking.

"You're not a robot." His voice was suddenly serious, gentle, and a tad curious. It wasn't even a true question, but she decided to answer it.

She nodded, "Mm-hm. Never have been. It was easier for you to understand at first introductions to think such things," she added, glancing up at him. "Now that your belief in me has solidified, you no longer need this justification."

He was still frowning.

She got to her hooves, dipping her hands in the half-full bucket of water to rinse them, shaking them out as she straightened to face him directly.

"Allow me to reintroduce myself," she said courteously. "I am Epigaea, the nature spirit that inhabits this place."