Downtown Druid

It was dark, and cramped. Dantes could feel earth pressing down on him from all sides, but he felt oddly calm. The dark, and confining space felt natural, and comforting. Dantes moved through it, wriggling through the dirt and rock as naturally as he’d walk through a hallway, feeling pulled toward a destination.The tunnel he was in opened up into a larger chamber and he stood up, though doing so felt oddly unnatural. In front of him was a strange gray wheel spinning in mid air, at least that’s what he thought it was until he looked closer. It was rats, a writhing mass of them all moving in circles over and over again, linked by long tails that were all knotted in the center in a tangle which he could not see the beginning or the end of. The mass turned its attention to him as he approached, feeling drawn to it.

“Dantes.” The voice was both one and many all talking at once and it struck him with a kind of force that made him stumble onto his back foot.

He squared his stance and forced himself to take another step forward. “Who are you? Where am I?”

The mass moved toward him expanding and contracting as the individual rats that made it up scampered and writhed across one another.

“I am the god of Rats. This is my domain.”

A god? Of rats? He’d never heard of such a thing. He’d offered prayers to the god of thieves, and avoided the god of greed. His mother had made the occasional offering to the goddess of hidden women, and one of her clients had been a priest to the god of temperance, though he only visited once a year. He’d heard of more than a hundred gods, and was certain there were thousands he’d never heard of, but they were all gods of the races that could walk and speak, not of creatures that lived and died based on instinct. Still, he could feel the power radiating from the being in front of him. The primal force of it left him little reason to doubt the creature’s claim.

“What do you want of me?”

The God’s body began moving more slowly, its individual rats seeming to be pensive, searching for something. “It is not common for one of your kind to bind yourself to one of my children. They usually avoid us, think of us a part of their natural order, but without honoring us, or acknowledging our importance. They choose pacts with the bear, elk, shark, lion, or… wolf. The god of wolves has been witness to more bindings than the god of roaches has children.” The god's tone was spiteful as it spoke, some parts of its form actually hissing as it said the word ‘wolf’.

“My…’kind’?”

“Druids.”

Dantes frowned, he’d never heard the word before, but was grateful to have some indication of what was happening to him. It would help him to figure out what was happening to him once he solved his more immediate life or death problems.

“I have brought you here to give you my blessing, and to complete your binding to… Jacopo.” The god seemed to chew on the name a bit as he said it.

“Finish the binding… how did I start it?”

“The offering of your blood to save his life. That is the first step to the binding.”

“Does that mean I’m bound to the plants I gave blood to as well?”

“I do not know, I am not their god. They are the domain of our mother.”

Dantes put a pin in that for the moment, he wasn’t one for dogma so much as immediate results.“The blessing, what does it do?”

“You will be able to call on my people as you need, to see through the eyes of those within my brood and compel them to do your will. This compulsion is dependent on me and how I feel you have treated them.”

“How will I know?”

“The blessing will make it clear.”

“And the binding?”

“Jacopo and you, shall be joined at the soul. Your growth shall be his, and his growth shall be yours.’

Dantes mind reeled at the possibilities. Rats were everywhere, he could see the unseen, steal almost anything at will, not to mention send a swarm of rats at his foes to tear them apart, though he intuited that the last option would be heavily dependent on their god’s feelings on the matter. Jacopo being bound to him… that he was more wary of, but he had a distinct feeling it was too late, and the blessing was likely also dependent on the binding as well.

“I accept.”

Every single one of the individual rats began to laugh, a sound that rats did not make normally, and which sent a shiver up Dantes’ spine.

“You thought you had a choice?” The mass of rats surged toward him, and hit him in a wave of flesh and fur. He could feel the raw power of a god wash over him, followed by a burning pain on his wrist.

…

Dantes woke screaming, his own voice echoing back to him as his cry hit the walls of the cave and bounced back to him. He clutched his wrist, his hand contorted into a claw as the burning sensation slowly began to fade. Where he clasped he felt raised flesh, and when he regained enough presence of mind to look at it, he saw four marks on his wrist. Two on one side, and two on another. He’d slept in enough alleyways to recognize a rat bite when he saw one, though these particular teeth would’ve had to come from one the size of a dog. Three of the marks were black, and reminded him of the tattoos common among sailors and orcish gangs. One of them was gold, and he understood instinctually that the mark represented the favor of the God of Rats.

He clenched his fist, and stood. When he turned to check on Jacopo, he saw a pair of golden eyes that matched his own, looking back at him. He could sense that Jacopo had not just healed, but seemed stronger than ever, the core of his life force pulsing with energy.

“You’re better.”

Jacopo nodded, this time much more naturally, as if he was much more used to the gesture than he had been the last time Dantes had watched him attempt it. “I am. Thanks to you.”

Dantes shrugged. “Needed your help, couldn’t have you dying.”

Jacopo shrugged. “Either way, you saved my life and your goals are now mine.”

“So since our goals are aligned, do I still need to feed you to keep you from chewing on my feet while I sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so.”

Dantes looked at the tattoo marks on his arm again. “Come with me.”

Jacopo nodded, and leapt onto his leg, crawling up through his jacket and into an interior pocket. They moved out of the cave and through the tunnels into the budding garden. Each of the plants had grown nearly a foot, and a few of them were already starting to bear small amounts of fruit. Dantes went over to the peach tree, the one that he’d planted after Jacopo had asked him to.

“Jacopo, this tree and anything it produces… it’s yours. Offer it to whoever you want, keep it to yourself, it’s up to you.”

Jacopo crawled out of the jacket.

Dantes could feel it as Jacopo’s paws left the warmth of his jacket and landed on a piece of cold stone. He focused for just a moment and he could suddenly see through Jacopo’s eyes. Jacopo’s vision and his own existed simultaneously for a jarring moment, and he dismissed it. That would take some practice to do without his eyes closed.

Jacopo sniffed around the growing sappling, and took a moment to chew on one of it’s leaves. “I will tell them.”

“I also need some of them to help me with a favor. Can you bring…let’s say twenty?” Dantes thought for a moment. “Actually, wait.” He looked at the mark on his arm and reached out with that strange ability he’d developed to sense life. The first thing he noticed was that the plants wanted more blood, but otherwise were strong and thriving. Next he felt the skittering of all the rats nearby.

Come

He gave the order wordlessly, and suddenly three dozen rats poured into the cavern from all around him and Jacopo. They all gathered, then sat there silently, some of their heads cocking curiously, and others looking at the unripe fruits that had begun to grow with undisguised hunger. He looked down at the rat mark and noticed a small sliver of black in the gold mark. This was something he could work with.