There were monsters growing in a garden in the Devil’s Den. To be more accurate, the garden was below the Devil’s Den. That may have arguably been worse, but Lillia was almost entirely certain that the monsters were never going to get out. She’d fattened them up so much that she was confident they’d never have any desire to venture forth from the stone cellar that she’d spent the majority of her free time over the past few days working on. Ridley had made a large, multi-room cellar back when he’d expanded the tavern a short while ago. Lillia hadn’t been quite sure what to do with all of it at the time. She didn’t have enough ingredients to fill the entire place, so there were just several rooms that had sat empty. They could probably have been turned into rooms, but there was definitely something about living in the basement of a monster-themed tavern that felt like it was just a little bit too cursed. And so the extra rooms in the cellar had sat empty in wait of use — right up until she’d gotten the [Hellish Nurturing] Title from the Mesh as part of the Menagerie’s rewards for destroying the Ashleaf Tree. It had been a rather interesting title, simultaneously descriptive and also almost entirely useless at telling her the full extent of what it allowed. [Hellish Nurturing] - Your dominion over the Hearth spreads to even the weeds that push their way up between the stones. Plants that you grow within the area of your home will be empowered and take on magical effects. It was clear bait. The Mesh wanted her to see what the Title was capable of, but it hadn’t stopped there. When she’d reached Journeyman 1, one of the skills it had offered her had been [Turn-ip the Grave]. The skill had been so stupid sounding that she’d been forced to take a closer look at it. That was, it had until she’d returned the next day to find the rat missing and a few bloodied specks of fur hanging from the now three-foot tall tree’s branches. Lillia had kept her tree on a steady stream of nutritious rats ever since. It had been a little over a week since she’d first started her project, and the tree was now four feet tall. Its growth had lost its exponential aspect as it grew stronger and more solid, but it had more than made up for that in attitude. Glistening leaves jingled as the tree rustled, noticing Lillia’s return — or the squirming rat she held against her chest. It was probably the rat. “Here,” Lillia cooed, tossing the rat into the air. A root shot up from the ground and pierced right through the rat’s heart before yanking it underground in a blur. There was a small whump as the rodent’s body hit the ground and was pulled beneath the dirt, and then there was nothing. Lillia rested a hand on the trunk of the tree. It rustled. A smile crossed her features. She couldn’t quite feel the monster’s thoughts, but there was a general sense of contentment and appreciation that came from deep within its bark. “I like you a lot more than your dad,” Lillia informed the tree as she scratched its bark gently. The tree rustled. That was a pretty fair response for a tree. It wasn’t like they could do much else. Lillia continued speaking. She’d rather taken to speaking to the tree. It was a good listener. Not as good as Arwin, as it wasn’t very good at doing anything other than rustling, but it was an acceptable replacement while he was working. “What kind of brothers and sisters do you want?” Lillia asked the tree. She’d yet to name it — she’d been too scared to. Her first plant, a weed from the street above, had been named “Happy”. It had died. The next seven Happies had met a similar fate, as had everything else she’d tried naming. Granted, she’d tried to name everything in the garden up until the tree, but such was life. Lillia was determined not to name this plant until she was absolutely certain it had no chance of dying or ways to somehow kill itself. “Maybe something tasty,” Lillia mused. “I’d like to be able to cook with some of the things I grow. Not the ones that get smart, though.” A root poked her in the bottom of the foot. Not hard, but just enough to get her attention. Lillia blinked in surprise. That was new. She glanced down — and the thoughts drained out of her head. Nestled near the base of the tree was a tuft of blue grass. It wasn’t anything Lillia had seen before, and she certainly hadn’t planted it — and yet, when she extended her senses toward it, she felt a connection form. It was another plant. But, more than that, she could feel something within it. Her own magic. “How did my power get into you?” Lillia mused, crouching to study the grass closer. The tree rustled. Lillia glanced to it, then back down to the grass. She placed a hand on the tree’s black bark. “Is this you? Did you direct some of the magic I sent into you into this grass?” The tree rustled, harder this time. And beneath it, the grass rustled too. Then the grass pulled apart to reveal a tiny mouth buried deep within the earth, small spikey teeth working as it let out a tiny squeak.