As Lilly approached the group, Constable Reynard, a tall figure with an imposing demeanor, stepped forward. His uniform, immaculate and crisp, added an extra layer of stern formality to his presence. His stern features were underscored by a pair of intense, scrutinizing eyes, currently set on Lilly.
"Lilly," he began, his voice a resonant baritone, "we're here to conduct a routine check-up on Tom."
"Routine?" Lilly echoed, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Was there a complaint or something?" Her mind whirred with thoughts of possible complainants. Could it have been Ignatius?
Constable Reynard held up a hand to placate her. "I cannot disclose any information about potential complaints, Lilly," he said, his tone remaining professional. "But I did warn you that we would be back to check on Tom."
Over the course of the next hour, the magical police carried out a series of tests on Tom. A hush had fallen over the farm as the magical police officers began their tests, their seriousness casting an uneasy gloom over the usually vibrant space. At first, their methods seemed somewhat benign, almost clinical. But as they progressed, the tests took on a harsher tone; and Lilly felt her heart clench with every rustle and shudder that came from the sentient plant.
One officer approached Tom abruptly and reached out to pluck one of his tomatoes. Tom's leaves rustled sharply, a swift gust of wind carrying a sound that was eerily similar to a gasp. The officers watched him intently, analyzing his reaction to the sudden loss. Lilly spoke as Tom made different variations of rustles and branch-swaying. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized that the two of them had created their own nonverbal language.
“He says he’s aggravated but is trying to be patient with you,” Lilly explained.
Next, they conducted a test that sent a bolt of anger through Lilly. An officer stepped purposefully onto a daisy plant growing nearby. At the sight, Tom swayed violently, his branches trembling in a silent protest. His deep green leaves rustled loudly, the sound reverberating around the silent farmyard.
The officers seemed satisfied with their tests, their expressions inscrutable as they scribbled notes on their pads. But Lilly had seen enough.
She stepped forward, her voice sharp and firm. "Enough. He is a sentient being. These tests are an abuse. You're not just checking him; you're hurting him. You're poking at his emotional wounds. He feels, just like we do, and this...this is not right. Tom has just as much right to live in peace as you and I."
She stood her ground, her eyes never leaving the officers as she defended Tom. The usually gentle tomato plant stood still, his rustle quieted as if he were holding his breath, awaiting the result of Lilly's stand. Regardless of the outcome, one thing was clear to Lilly: she would not allow her friend to be treated as a mere object for study. She would fight for Tom's rights, his dignity, and his peace.
With the officers satisfied, they departed. Lilly’s relief was tinged with an undercurrent of anxiety. The intrusive visit was a stark reminder of the precarious position she was in. She had to find a way to protect Tom and legalize sentient plants, or she would live in a constant state of worry.
Resolved, Lilly set out for Tunni's. The gnome may be her neighbor and friend, but she was also the master greenskeeper of Briarhaven and with that came power, both magical and political. She was her best bet to navigate the legalities surrounding sentient plants. If anyone could help Lilly in her quest, it would be Tunni.
As the setting sun bathed Thornwood in a warm, honeyed glow, Lilly found herself knocking on the door of Tunni's cozy, stone-built home. Stepping inside, she was immediately embraced by the comforting scent of herbs and old parchment, a familiar aroma that never failed to make her feel welcomed.
Tunni was perched at her kitchen table, a pot of freshly brewed tea sending steamy tendrils up toward the ceiling. Her blue eyes sparkled in the dim light as she greeted Lilly, offering her a seat and a steaming mug of her signature blend.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
As Lilly accepted the warm cup, she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. This was exactly what she needed: a calm moment to collect her thoughts and discuss her concerns with someone wise and understanding.
"Lilly," Tunni began, stirring her own cup, the soft clinking sound resonating in the quiet kitchen, "I've been thinking about your Tom situation. I commend what you're doing, defending his right to exist as a sentient plant. It's admirable."
Lilly listened attentively, her eyes fixed on the elder woman. There was a wisdom in Tunni's words that she trusted implicitly.
"But," Tunni continued, her tone growing serious, "I fear that encouraging an influx of sentient plants, if not properly cared for, could lead to issues we can't foresee. They may become dangerous, confused, even destructive. That would only hurt Tom's cause, not help it."
Her words sank into Lilly, a bitter truth she hadn't considered before. She had been so focused on saving Tom that she hadn't thought of the potential ramifications on a larger scale.
"I think," Tunni concluded, placing her cup down and meeting Lilly's eyes with a determined gaze, "instead of focusing on promoting the creation of sentient plants, we should push for sentient creature's right to exist, their right to be treated with respect and dignity. This way, we don't just help Tom but all sentient creatures."
The idea resonated deeply within Lilly, a beacon of hope in a storm of confusion. She nodded, grateful for Tunni's wisdom providing her a direction she could work toward. A cause, not just for Tom, but for all sentient beings who deserved a chance to live.
Tunni leaned back, her eyes narrowing in thought as she began to outline a plan.
"First," she began, "we need to create awareness. It's important for people to understand what it means for a being to be sentient—that they have thoughts, feelings, and desires just like us. A campaign would be the first step. We can organize seminars, talks, and open forums, where experts and people who have experience with sentient beings can share their knowledge and experiences."
Her words flowed like a well-rehearsed speech, each idea meticulously thought out. Lilly grabbed a notepad and pen from her bag, frantically jotting down the points.
"Next, we would need to lobby for a change in legislation. With enough public support, we can push lawmakers to consider giving sentient beings legal rights. We can start local, right here in Thornwood, then gradually move up to the state and eventually the national level."
Lilly could visualize it—a slow but steady wave of change spreading across the country, securing rights for Tom and others like him. It seemed like a colossal task; but with Tunni's guidance, she felt it was achievable.
"Lastly, we need to establish support systems for these beings. Just like we have animal shelters and wildlife conservation initiatives, we need organizations dedicated to caring for sentient beings who have been neglected or abused. This would include education for prospective caretakers and awareness programs on how to interact with and care for sentient beings."
Listening to Tunni, Lilly could feel a sense of purpose welling within her. The vision was vast and filled with hurdles, but the possibility of achieving it was intoxicating. It was a cause she believed in, one that she was willing to fight for. The world had to change, and she was ready to lead the charge. She finished jotting down Tunni's plan, her determination set in ink.
"We have our work cut out for us," Lilly admitted, her voice filled with resolve.
Tunni offered a warm smile, her eyes reflecting Lilly's determination. "Indeed, we do. But I believe we can make it happen."
As Lilly made her way home, she crossed paths with Greta, her baking ogre neighbor. The sight of Greta was always a bit startling—her towering figure, muscular arms, and broad features sharply contrasted with the delicate femininity of her floral apron. But her kind eyes and warm smile quickly reminded Lilly of the gentle soul beneath the intimidating exterior.
"I just came from Tunni's," Lilly said, sharing her plans for securing the rights of all sentient creatures. Greta's eyebrows shot up, her surprise quickly transforming into interest. After a quick discussion, Greta eagerly pledged to contribute her culinary skills to the cause.
***
A few hours later, Lilly and Greta set out on their mission. Farm to farm, they went, knocking on the doors of Thornwood's close-knit farming community. At every doorstep, Lilly carefully explained her mission for the rights of all sentient creatures.
Greta, standing a respectful distance behind Lilly, smiled, her long, sharp teeth glistening in the sunlight. Then she extended her massive hand, a plate of her delicately crafted treats in her palm. Today, she had made thin cookies, each exquisitely crafted to resemble the hand of the humanoid species they were talking to, holding a charcoal pencil that they could use to sign the petition.
The farmer’s eyes widened as he took in Greta and the lifelike fingers. He and every farmer they visited afterward took the pencils and signed her petition without another word. They won over every single farmer they visited. Lilly couldn’t believe they were so successful.