Downtown Druid

Dantes followed behind Murk and Traizen as they walked through the Veridian Expanse. Dantes had never been in a forest before, and found himself overwhelmed by it. The trees ranged wildly in size from small bushlike things, to some that seemed almost as mighty as the Mother’s Reach he’d planted. It was somehow both quieter and louder than Rendhold ever was. He found himself twitching and jumping at the sounds of frogs croaking and crickets rubbing their legs together. In Rendhold he’d slept through murders going on three feet from his door, and the sounds of pub brawls just a hallway away. He attempted at one point to extend his senses out, but was immediately overwhelmed and had to pull back. It reminded him of when he’d first gotten out of the pit, and was overwhelmed by all the new life around him, only multiplied a hundredfold.

He heard a snort from Murk.

Dantes said nothing. Instead he tried again, but this time he expanded his senses more gradually. Moving them further and further outward. When he got overwhelmed he’d pull back, but then he’d try again and make it just a bit further.”

The elf gave him a strange look, but continued leading the way. He’d been kind enough to put on some blue pants and a matching shirt. They looked finely woven, but old and well worn. Dantes would guess they were a nobleman’s clothes if they weren’t so dirty.

Murk, on the other hand, had shifted into the form of a wolf rather than put on clothes. He wove through the roots and bushes with the gray wolf next to him, where they occasionally brushed up against one another.

Dantes felt overheated and uncomfortable. Trying to train his senses took his mind off of it, but it was too much novelty too quickly. He considered removing his jacket, but the constant brushing of branches and brambles against him made that an equally unpleasant option.

“We teleported through trees right?”

“Right.” answered Traizen.

“Why didn’t you take us straight there?”

“Are you familiar with the saying about the needle and the haystack?”

“No. Is that like finding the gnome at the halfling bar?”

“Possibly. This forest is large, and moving to it from a distance makes it hard for one to choose exactly the right place at which to arrive. We’re only about another two hours away though… Unless you can shift into something flying?”

Dantes looked at his woefully underfilled batmark. “Afraid not.”

Traizen nodded. “Walking it is then.”

They continued in silence for a while longer while Dantes continued processing and organizing his thoughts. “So, Traizen, are you not bound to another animal?”

He looked back, smiling. “Oh, I am, but we share a body and soul completely now.”

Dantes looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it. “What do you mean?”

“Her physical form passed on, so I took her into myself. We are one now,” He patted a gold filled tattoo on his chest with an open palm as he spoke. The tattoo was the largest of them on him. Dantes had no clue what animal it represented, but whatever it was was big.

“That sounds unpleasant,” sent Jacopo to him. “The idea of being one like that.” Jacopo shuddered a bit in his pocket. “Vile.”

“Glad you’re awake. This isn’t exactly the kind of situation I want to be in alone.”

“That’s selfish of you.”

“Yes, but it’s also true.”

“These three are strong. Separate we could’ve beaten them, but together… we will need to break them from each other.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Dantes sent a mental summary of everything he’d picked up on from the two druids so far.

“Hmm. Useful. We stick it out then?”

“For now, but we should be ready for anything.”

Jacopo gave a grunt in confirmation and climbed up Dantes’ arm and onto his shoulder.

“Good morning rat. Sorry I put you to sleep for so long,” said Traizen toward Jacopo.

Jacopo cocked his head. “I understand you,” he said this out loud, rather than through a mental connection.

“Yes. I can speak with all animals, not just those that I’ve received a blessing from.”

“Useful,” said Jacopo, mirroring Dantes’ own thoughts.

“You mentioned before things I’d need to be warned about. Spreading disease, favoring one kind of animal, blood magic. Care to elaborate?”

Murk growled, but Traizen ignored him. “Well, you may not know this, but there are many diseases that can be spread between animals, plants, and people.”

Dantes nodded. “Yeah, yeah, they quarantine blocks in Rendhold when that happens. Wait for things to burn themselves out.”

“You have the power to encourage things to go places they might not normally go. Make certain populations mingle that shouldn’t. I’ve seen entire forests wiped out. Whole colonies of penguins, and mammoths killed because disease that wouldn’t have spread if not for an ignorant Druid flexing her new power… or even spreading disease intentionally.” Traizen’s expression grew grim at the last line.

“So, I’m guessing favoring one kind of animal over another can have an impact like that too. You start making lions leave deer alone, and soon the lions are starving, but the deer are everywhere causing problems?”

“Exactly.”

“And blood rituals?” asked Dantes. He’d danced around it to avoid placing suspicion on himself, though he wondered if they would’ve been savvy enough to pick up on that. He also wondered if Murk had noticed the Mother’s Reach he’d grown in the center of Rendhold. He hadn’t mentioned it.

“Perhaps the most dangerous thing a druid can do, but one that is instinctually granted to us by the Mother. The use of your own blood to grow, control, or bind animals and plants. It is acceptable to use on the one you’re bound to, but otherwise it is incredibly unstable and dangerous. The hunger for blood and life just grows, and they eventually begin to seek it outside of the druid’s control. It is also risky for the druid, you are bound to everything in your locus that you contribute to. Your strength, energy, will, all come from what and how you cultivate it. Eventually, your life becomes bound to your locus. When you use blood magic, you are binding yourself far more tightly, putting your own life at risk if what you have cultivated comes to harm.”

“Interesting,” he responded, as the blood drained from him and his mind began to rapid fire ways to mitigate and respond to the damage he may have unwittingly done. He had told Wane how to monitor the garden. It was possible that they’d been providing it enough blood to keep it content. After all, it had only been a month, there was a good chance he’d be able to get them a warning or some other information if he could locate a Consortium contact. There was another part of his mind that began turning to ways he could use blood rituals intentionally to his own benefit. Sure there was a risk, but there were definitely use cases where it would be worth it. He couldn’t even say he regretted his use of it so far, it hadn’t been as if he’d had much choice.

Dantes continued following, much better able to ignore the heat with new information to focus his mind on. Eventually, they reached a large clearing at the center of which was a small lake, and in the middle of that lake stood a mighty tree. He could feel the tree's presence radiating through everything around him, and he realized that much like himself and the chords of energy he felt weaving their way to the living things he grew, the tree was connected to everything in the expanse in the same way. He noticed something else as they got closer to it. It almost looked as if it had a face.

He saw movement, and turned his head to see a woman with dark skin and flowing black hair swimming through the lake alongside a massive scaled beast that reminded Dantes strongly of a leviathan, except it was much too small and seemed to have legs rather than flippers, and green scales rather than blue ones. He also saw a young male gnome with azure hair sleeping on the branch of the tree with a large cat of some kind curled around him. Finally, he noticed two women, one of them braiding the hair of the other, while two large falcons sat perched nearby. Both of the women were at least partially elven, and tall with auburn hair, and purple eyes. They, and their falcons, were twins from what he could tell.

“Looks like we aren’t the last to arrive. I don’t see Coal, or Morgan,” said Traizen, primarily to himself, as they walked into the valley.

Dantes looked around at the motley crew that was assembled. “Not as many as I expected.”

Traizen shook his head sadly. “There used to be more. That said, we’ve never been a very large brotherhood.”

“Is this just all the Druids that are nearby?”

He shook his head. “No. This is all that remains on the continent.”

Dantes looked over the seven that were assembled. He didn’t know much about geography, his studies mostly consisted of his mother and Vera insisting he knew his numbers and letters, but he did know that Cargus, on which Rendhold sat at the northwest end, spanned an enormous part of the mortal plane. He’d once heard a sailor say that a man could be born on one end of it, and if he started walking at that moment he’d be an old man by the time he made it to the other side. This was far fewer than he’d expected.