Dantes woke the next day next to Alessa, and carefully got out of the bed so as not to wake her. She hadn’t wound up with much business, so he decided to help her out. He certainly had no motive of his own in the transaction. It was purely charitable. He poured a glass of water for her, and placed it by her on the side table. It was too early for even breakfast, but his body was still trained on his habit of rising early in the pit and jumping right into his usual activities.

He’d been too exhausted that first night, for a number of reasons, but today he felt good, strong even. He squinted at that thought. It had only been a day since his escape. He’d run, jumped, fought, and climbed that day to an incredibly exhausting degree. He should still be worn down, and likely too tired to get out of bed, even with the better quality food and drink he had been having since he’d gotten out of the pit. Even in the Pit itself he’d recovered more quickly from injury and exercise than he had before. He’d chalked it up to his improved access to food then too, but something else was going on.

He reached out his senses, feeling all the life around himself. There were pigeons nesting on the roof and feeding hungry chicks. Jacopo was stirring from a spot under the bed where he’d dragged Dantes’ old rags to use as a bed, there were a number of roaches in the walls, and he could feel that at least one of the girls had a number of flowers growing in her room that seemed well cared for. He brought his attention back to himself. He couldn’t sense other people, but he could sense his own life, burning brightly in his perceptions. He unfocused a bit, and saw a number of small threads. The thickest of them was connected directly to Jacopo. There were several that were simply reaching for nearby living things that he’d just sensed, thin wispy lines seeking connection. Then there were a number of woven threads extending through the walls. He followed them as far as he could, but eventually reached his limit and pulled his attention back. It wasn’t hard to figure out where they led. It was back to the prison, and all the life he’d connected to there. He remembered the feeling when he had first planted the seeds in his garden and watched them grow. The feeling as if the energy within himself that he expended toward them was being returned somehow.

He let out a quiet sigh and moved to get dressed. He didn’t mind the many advantages he received from his abilities, but he wished there was some kind of guide, or another druid to speak to. He put seeking one out toward the top of the ever expanding list of necessities he maintained in his mind. Once he was dressed, he belted his freshly cleaned and sharpened dagger to his belt, and threw on his new jacket.

Jacopo crawled out from under the bed, and climbed onto, and into his jacket. “No food is being prepared downstairs yet.”

Dantes nodded. “No, we’ll come back for breakfast. I need to do a bit of scouting first.”

Jacopo squeaked a confirmation, and they crept out of the room and downstairs, hearing only faint snoring as they made their way down. Zilly was there, her sleeves rolled halfway up and a mop in her hands which she moved in simple practiced motion down the floor. She noticed him at the foot of the stairs and gave him a silent nod.

He smiled, and gave her a wink, peeling off his boots to not immediately dirty the freshly cleaned floor, and making his way to the door.

“Wait,” she whispered.

He complied, watching her as she moved back behind the bar and into the kitchen where she returned with a small sack made of a napkin which she’d tied together. Dantes took it, nodding appreciatively, and slipped out onto the stoop, slipping his boots back on and making his way down the street. He wore a light smile as he opened the napkin, finding a warm piece of bread, a cold slice of meat, and a few dried pieces of mango. He ate as he walked, handing a bit of the bread to Jacopo as his head peeked out from his shoulder at the smell of the food.

“You like that woman.”

“So far.”

“Could you not simply purchase the use of a different one?”

“I could, and likely will again.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“And yet you prefer to pursue this woman?”

“For now I’m mostly just being polite. Pursuit is something different entirely.”

Jacopo continued munching on bread near his ear, knowing Dantes had dodged the question.

Dantes sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with buying a woman for the night, but earning a woman’s affection is more fun.”

“Could you not earn the affections of one of the women you already purchase time with?”

Dantes shrugged. “None of them are my type.”

“And what is your type?”

“So far? The Madam my mother worked for when I was fourteen, a woman who married the man that betrayed me, a dwarven noblewoman with a smile like birdsong, and Zilly.”

Dantes could sense Jacopo searching his mind for more about the women he’d mentioned, and gave the rat equivalent of a frown. “These women all look completely different from one another.”

Dantes shrugged. “I take things on a case by case basis. I like what I like.”

“Things worked out with none of these women. You did not even touch two of them.”

“I said they were my type, not that I was theirs. Anyway, it’s not the focus right now.”

“And what is?”

“Finding a new garden.”

Jacopo nodded, taking a piece of mango, and burrowing back into the jacket to make a mess of his preferred pocket.

Dantes walked for a half an hour before he reached what he was looking for. There was a large wooden barrier erected, blocking off a few hundred feet of the city. It was unguarded, as they always were, and the signs that had been placed in front of it were worn and faded. These were common in Rendhold. The city was expanding ever outward, and in the process whole blocks of the city would fall behind in repair and maintenance. Eventually there was a building collapse, an outbreak of disease, or even a witches curse and a section of the city would be sealed off. They’d be monitored for a while of course, though that was often so that the guard could loot everything not nailed down, and then leave. After that those pieces of the city would be left to rot. Squatters would move in sometimes, or gangs would use them to store illegal goods. In very rare cases the lots were bought cheaply by merchants or nobles that would convert the cheap land into whatever they wanted, but because the recordkeeping was so poor, that almost never happened, and many of the lots were simply lost..

Dantes sent out his senses, feeling some growth,a few rats here and there, a stray dog, and a number of insects. He’d passed a different sealed block a while before, but it was newer, and he could tell just by looking at it that it was being used as a rent free place to live by a number of people, so he’d skipped over it. He needed something older, and more overgrown. He knew of a few such places in midtown, but those would need to be avoided.

He looked around the deserted street he was on, and climbed over the rotting wooden barrier, and onto the other side. It was easy to tell why this section had been sealed off. The remnants of a massive building collapse were still evident. Only on the edges had a few smaller buildings survived. He walked the length of it up and down, sensing a colony of bats in the far corner, and smiling. There were no signs of gang stashes, squatters, or anything else. Lowtown south of the docks, was mainly warehouses and factories, so that made sense. Found a spot toward the middle he thought would get good direct sunlight, and pulled the pouch of seeds out of his bag.

He held each seed in his hand, reaching out to it as he decided where to place them. They each had their own preferences as to where they’d like to be. Some preferred a bit of shade, others wanted to be placed near one another, and still a few wanted to be as isolated as possible. He met each of their preferences as best he could, leading to a field about as far from neat rows of farmland as one could get. When he was done he pulled out his dagger, testing the edge and thinking.

He remembered how loud the calls for blood had been in his garden. They’d given him sleepless nights eventually, and only bodies full of blood could placate them. He’d needed to give them blood in the damp dark of the Pit, otherwise they wouldn’t have grown. Here was a different story. There was sunlight, water, even surprisingly healthy soil. It was tempting to use blood to speed things along, but he decided against it, simply watering each seed carefully. The plants in his cave where he’d slept had grown without blood, and still done so far faster than they should have. As long as he made time every day in the garden, he should have no issues helping it grow, and eventually he’d have a new source of favor.

He went to the edge of the block and reached out to the bats there. They were similar to the ones he’d encountered in the pit, but different. He couldn’t quite place why, but he figured he’d find a way to draw moths to them and start building favor with them. He considered trying to speak with one, but decided against waking them.

He walked back to the center of the space and placed his hand on the ground. He reached for those wispy threads that seemed to emanate from him and saw that they were already nearly anchored to the seeds. He focused on them, pushing them to be strong, and to connect more firmly. They seemed to respond, and he opened his eyes feeling their contentment.

He stood back up, and hopped back over the fence. He should arrive back at the Vixen just in time to be late for breakfast.