The Smell of Mint Flowers

Telling

Cron must've discovered the change, for he was frowning as he came from above—specifically from the city via the skies using nothing but his own abilities. Rockets in his feet, providing flight. That was perhaps the only way for mortals to reach her sanctuary: from the sky. He found her perched on the highest branch the evergreen had that could support her weight.

From here, she could see the tops of the sweeping high rise buildings of the city below. It was something she liked to do when she'd already caught up on the growing things here. The grounds were all tended, weeded and thriving. The blooming season would start soon, and then it would all flourish just as she'd told Cron it would.

She'd seen him approach long before he'd caught sight of her. He had paused to peer down at the woods below him as he had neared, possibly noticing the change then, if not before.

He wanted to call up to her, she felt. His tension was palpable even from way up here where she perched. She debated if and the how of her descent when she heard his rockets start up again.

In moments he was hovering next to her, a concerned frown on his face.

"Did you know robots can have souls as well as humans?" she asked without preamble.

His expression blanked in surprise, but he didn't speak up. So she continued.

"It happens very seldomly. Only to those machines who hold more care for others in their core, or curiosity. Perhaps wonder for the world around them. Their souls are forged slowly but remain sleeping. Forever sleeping until a catalyst comes by to spark that fire into being."

She glanced at him. "Humans can have sleeping souls too. But they can't function correctly for long since a soul is a human's only means of interacting with the world. Abused, tormented, terminally ill, or broken: those humans can have their soul fire extinguished. They die soon after if they're not healed."

Her friend the evergreen pulsed in concern at the very subject, which made her gently pat its trunk reassuringly.

"I was born not long after this tree. To heal those souls who crossed into my territory. I was to heal the hearts of men and nature. To help things grow. When machines and robots entered my sanctuary, I noticed their sleeping souls. I woke those I could, aided in the awakening of those I could not."

She looked away from the city, down to the little courtyard far below. "Belief was already dwindling, however. People stopped visiting. I weakened. But I still hold true to my original values, thanks to you."

Cron startled, "What? Me? Why? How?"

She giggled softly to herself at his reaction. Would she ever grow tired of this mortal? Her heart didn't think so. "I told you in one of our first conversations. What I saw in you, what I still see. The inner strengths you reminded me of. You gave life to me when nothing else did." She turned and kept eye contact this time. "I'm not sure you know how much you saved me, back then. I will protect this place, yes. To my last breath. But the tune was a little different, last season."

Cron's eyes widened, doing the equivalent of taking a few steps back in mid-air. This time she didn't fill the silence. Instead, she let him digest all that as she turned to look back at the city and its high, sweeping buildings. She could still recall a time when that city had been only a small town, climbing this mountain in search of healing and comfort.

Oh, how times had changed. Yet it was fascinating to see and watch as the people and their culture and society evolve. For better or for worse, everything kept moving forward. She supposed it was about time for her to do the same.

"So, wait," came a quiet voice beside her. She turned to see Cron in a thinking pose, chin in hand and staring into space as he mulled over everything she'd told him.

He looked up as she watched. "Aside from the almost-suicide vibe you just told me. Are you telling me that robots can be human?"

She cocked her head, mentally swishing the thought around.

"Perhaps not completely human," she responded at last. "Robots just won't have the same needs as humans do. But the basic humane concept will manifest into a soul, yes. But only if it is fostered and nurtured, growing into a metaphysical mass big enough to support itself as a soul."

Cron was studying her closely. "And how do you know about souls and stuff? I thought it was all theory and belief."

His own wording caught his attention, and he blinked. He turned to her in confirmation, but she only smiled at him.

That seemed answer enough.

"Huh," Cron mused. "So souls are more than just hearsay. But why are you telling me this all of a sudden?" He gestured out to the woods and the tangled mess she'd made of them. "And what about this?"

She tittered softly. "I let the woods have a mind of their own. We will protect each other and heal those who wander in. Whether or not they find me is another story."

Cron gave a short hum, seeming to accept this. She was briefly amazed by the fact that he hadn't drawn attention to the other aspect of her small monologue. He had only paraphrased it and set it aside as if telling her he heard and accepted her words. He really was something new. How refreshing.

"I wonder if the professor can make something that can detect soul wavelengths or something," Cron muttered to himself.

She hummed idly. "I'm not sure if that's something technology would want to accomplish."

Cron looked at her oddly, and she shrugged lightly. "It could be misused in too many ways."

He agreed with that much.

"Yeah, ok. But still, why tell me about robot souls now?"

So he had noticed her small aversion. It made her smile. Underneath her, small patches of moss and winding flowering vines explored the branch she sat on. Her friend the evergreen urged her onwards.

"Well," she replied airily, "I thought you'd like to know that I see a sleeping soul in you, too."

Cron stopped, blinked, and then looked at her blankly.

"...What?"

~Cont. In Part 2