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Pox sighed as she leaned against the chimney next to Ticktock. It was early morning in Sollenfurt, and the sun hadn't yet risen. Both rats had perched on a roof top, listening to the sounds of the city below as the humans began to wake and go about their daily lives once more. Ticktock grabbed Pox's arm and gave it a tug, “Look! Look! It's starting!" she said, pointing to the streets below.

All around them, the streetlights of the city began to go out, and the inky black of night swallowed the town. Both rats closed their eyes and bowed their heads when the last lights went out, and the city was silent for a few moments. Near the center of town, at the great Cathedral of the Holy Sun, large bells began to ring out.

Ticktock's hand found Pox's and squeezed it as they sat counting the bells, before the last one struck and suddenly there was a brilliant light burning through the rat's closed eyelids, as a chorus of roars and cheers grew from the city below at the striking of the Dawn Stone.

Pox dared to open her eyes, before closing them quickly, blinking slowly as she let her eyes adjust to the dazzling light. Eventually her vision adapted enough to keep her eyes open, and she looked out at the city with a smile on her face. Even though the humans would never let her kind celebrate with them, she couldn't help but share their elation at the ritual. It was a reminder of the way the world used to be, and it gave the people hope that it could be that way once again someday.

Ticktock chittered softly, “It is beautiful…" she said, shielding her face with a hand and looking toward the Cathedral, and up toward the top of the tall tower that held the dawn stone high in the sky, where it shone down almost like a proper sun, even turning the sky a lighter shade of blue and blocking out some of the stars.

Pox nodded, “Yes, it is," she said and squeezed her sister against her side, closing her eyes again as she rested there, enjoying the warmth and light, “I could stay up here all day."

Ticktock turned around and got into Pox's lap, hugging the larger rat, and nuzzling into her fur, “I could too," she said softly, relaxing there in the embrace of her sister, “But today is a busy day. You have to see your young human noble, and I need to work with Gnarltooth to gather more herbs."

“You are right, but I want to enjoy this light while I can, sister." Pox sighed and squeezed at Ticktock's sides, “Can you get me some extra herbs for making nasty juice? I want to see what that human with the beak mask will offer for them." Pox said, thinking back to her meeting with the strange human dressed in heavy waxed clothes.

Ticktock shrugged her shoulders, “Maybe, that depends on Gnarltooth, really." She said running her claws through the fur on Pox's side. “I can try though."

Pox smiled and nipped at Ticktock's ear, “Good girl, I knew I could count on you."

Ticktock tsked, “You are supposed to say that after I bring the herbs to you."

“So? I know you'll get them for me. I trust you," Pox replied.

Ticktock huffed, “You are too kind," she said, pulling her pocket watch out and looking at the time, “I have to go now. Have fun with your human!"

† † †

Malachi looked out at the brightly lit courtyard behind the Hawthorn Manor, “I have to admit, your Dawn Stone is quite impressive, it's almost like real daylight. Not quite the same though." He turned from the window and looked to James and Jonathan Hawthorne who were sitting at a large dining table, eating a lavish breakfast of eggs and sausages with fruit on the side.

James bit into a slice of bacon, “I barely remember what real daylight was like. I was seven when the sun darkened. Paul was only three," he said chewing slowly as he contemplated the light shining in through the window.

Jonathan spoke up from his own meal, “Speaking of, how is Paul doing? It's been several days now, you have been watching over him this whole time, but you haven't said anything of note," he said before taking a large bite of his own food.

Malachi nodded, adjusting his mask with a gloved hand, “Paul's fever has started to come down. I think he's recovering, but it's too early to tell. I'll continue to watch him for a few more days."

Jonathan gave a nod as he shoveled a handful of grapes into his mouth. “Good," he said before chewing and swallowing them, “I have full confidence in your ability to see him through to full health."

The doctor shook his head, “That may be misguided, I got lucky. When I was going through my things, I found an old vial of a remedy for plague. I gave it to him, but I didn't really expect it to work. It was old, and it loses potency over time."

James looked up from his own plate, “Can you get more of this remedy?"

Malachi looked no him, “No, the herbs used to make it are almost impossible to cultivate even under the best of conditions. The Children of Hectis used to grow some at their pesthouses and monasteries, but that was before the sun went dark."

James scratched at his beard, “You might check with the university. They have a botany department that uses many of the same techniques as our grow houses to keep a number of plants alive in hopes that one day they'll be useful. They might have some samples of these herbs."

The doctor nodded, “Perhaps, I hadn't considered that. Thank you," he said to James, then turned to Jonathan, “I'll make my way over there today. Paul is stable enough he can be left alone for a few hours."

Jonathan finished his meal and pushed the plate away, “If they don't have any of this herb at the university, check with every apothecary in the city, if there are any other remedies or cures you know of that might work to speed Paul's recovery, then procure what you need for them. Tell them you are working for me, and they can bill me directly for any cost." He then stood up, “I have some business to attend to today, so I will be out until this evening."

James likewise got up, “Me as well, we are using the opportunity of the day's light to replace some of the gas fixtures in grow-house number 8 to hopefully come up with a more efficient layout so we can cut back on our usage. I need to get going so I can oversee the work."

As the two men took their leave, Malachi glanced at the table before stealing some of the uneaten bacon. “Didn't even have the courtesy to ask if I wanted any," he grumbled as he pulled his mask up slightly to eat. He then nodded at one of the serving girls as she came in to clear the plates. “I'm going out for a while myself. In an hour or two, if I'm not back, check on Paul. Just open the door and make sure he's still breathing. Don't enter the room."

The servant nodded, “Yes, My Lord," she said, and went about cleaning up the plates and dishes.

Malachi shook his head, “You don't need to call me that. I'm just a simple doctor, nothing more. I appreciate your assistance." He then turned and made his own way out of the manor, grabbing his wide brimmed hat on the way.

† † †

Paul rubbed his face as he lay in bed, coming out of another round of deep sleep. He was still weak from his illness, but he was growing more lucid by the day. The balcony doors were open, and light from the outside was pouring in, as well as fresh air from the outside. “They…lit…the dawn stone…" he said softly as he looked out at the bluish black sky and the gnarled dead branches of the trees in the back courtyard. He reached over to the bedside table and picked up a small cup with water, sipping it carefully so as to not spill it.

His body was still incredibly weak, and he felt like he hadn't eaten in days. After spending a few moments looking around, what little energy Paul had left him, and his head fell back against his pillow, and he drifted into unconsciousness once again.

He awoke again some time later, looking around the room with blurred vision. A dark shadow moved in front of him, “Do…doctor?" he asked weakly, blinking several times as his vision struggled to focus, before the visage of a large rat solidified in front of him.

Pox chittered, “No doctor," Paul tried to yell out, but a hand quickly covered his mouth, gripping firmly at his jaw, “Shush, human," she hissed, “You sick and weak, I can kill easy. No want that, yes?"

The human gave a weak shake of his head, and the hand was pulled away, “What…why are you here?"

The rat pulled a bottle out of her belt pouch, “I need you," she said, uncorking the bottle and offering it to Paul's lips, “Drink! It medicine."

Paul turned his head away from the bottle, even through his clogged sinuses he could smell the burn of alcohol and whatever it was mixed with. “Medicine? It's revolting."

The rat growled and grabbed his head again, turning his face and pressing the bottle insistently to his lips. “Will cure rat-plague, now drink!" she insisted, pouring the liquid into his mouth.

He tried to struggle, but his strength was already fading him. He managed to gulp some of it before the burning in his throat made him cough and sputter. He was thankfully given a moment to catch his breath before he was made to finish.

Pox smiled, showing off her wicked yellow teeth, and she wiped his lips with a thumb, “Good human." She said tauntingly.

Paul wiped his mouth after her with the sheet, “Why are you doing this?" he asked, looking around the room, wishing he had the strength to escape.

The rat got up onto the bed and straddled his hips, she was naked except for her tattered cloak and her belt, with only a thin sheet between her and Paul, “Pox need you alive."

The human weakly squirmed under her, “Ugh…why? I'm nothing to you."

The rat grinned, “You useful to me," she said, rubbing a hand over his cheek, “Lots of uses," she said, giving a playful grind of her hips against his.

Despite being pale from his illness as he was, the rat could see Paul's face blanch even further, “No…not a chance…I'm in no condition for that…and I won't…never again."

The rat chittered, “You will. You mine now, Pox save you life, means life belongs to Pox," she said, giving him a wide grin as she leaned in closer, her sour breath washing over his face, “and I always keep what's mine."

Paul shuddered at the stench and grimaced, “That's not…It's…your fault…I'm ill," he muttered, turning his head away from her, closing his eyes tightly.

“But Pox not just watch you die of rat plague, Pox bring you cure," she continued to rub her hands over his chest and sides, before sliding her body down until she was laying on top of him. She ran her clawed fingers through his hair, and licked up the side of his neck, “Or you rather I kill you?" she growled right into his ear, “Put out of misery?" in a flash she reached back and pulled her dagger, holding it to his throat.

Paul froze in shock, feeling the cold metal biting into his neck, much like it had when the rat had pounced on him in the alley. “No…please…don't kill me…" he said.

He felt the knife leave his throat and he heard it sliding back into its sheath. She then turned his head to face her, “Then you belong to Pox," she said, tapping his nose with a finger after each word to make her point clear.

Paul swallowed and gave a slow nod of acknowledgement. He could see he really didn't have much choice in the matter, at least not in his current state.

The rat nodded and crossed her arms over his chest, resting her chin there, looking into his eyes. “Good! Now, you clan own glass plant huts, yes?"

Paul grunted and shifted position, pinned down he had to turn his head to the side to cough, “Glass…you mean the grow-houses? Where we produce food?"

Pox nodded her head, “Yes! You own, yes?" she asked him, shifting her weight to the side to put less pressure on his chest, running her claws over his skin again, leaving small scratches.

Paul shuddered and gave a slow nod, “Y…yes…well not me…my brother," he said, starting to calm down some as the drug and his illness started to take hold of him again. The rat had beady black eyes that were locked intently on his. He also noticed for the first time that she had hair on her head. It was long and curly, tied in a ponytail with a crude string. Paul swallowed again, “Why do you want to know about the grow-houses?"

She nodded in answer to his question, scratching the back of her ear rapidly like a dog or cat might, “My clan hungry, need food. Pox think could steal you, hide you in warrens, sell back to your clan for food." She pulled his arm out from his side and rolled over so that her back was pressed against him, with her head on his shoulder, “But…Pox also think that a lot of trouble. Bring bad attention to warrens. Bring rat catchers to hunt us, and maybe not get food and need eat you."

Paul swallowed and watched her, “What? Eat…me?" he asked, not entirely sure he heard her correctly. then noticed her shifting, “Wait, what are you…" he blinked a few times, “Get off!"

“Shush human," she continued, “Need think. How can get food for warrens with little trouble?" she asked him as she settled in, her tail curling around his waist.

Paul lay there, watching as the rat got more comfortable on top of him while she continued speaking, ignoring his protests. “I…I really don't know," he said, “I'm a politician…I barely know…anything…about the grow-houses," he said.

The rat shifted a bit against him, “Poli…" she scratched her ear again, “What that mean?"

Paul shifted slightly, “I'm going to be one of the leaders of this city."

Pox turned over to face him, “Oh, like oldest rat," she said, “You not old though." She grabbed his face again, turning it from side to side like she was looking for wrinkles.

Paul squirmed and smacked at her wrist with his free hand, “Stop that! No I'm not old…we humans pick our leaders…by other ways, not just who ever is oldest," Paul was panting harder.

The rat settled down again, resting her head on his chest, contemplating how she might use the new information. Being able to get food was one thing, having someone in power over the humans was something else entirely. “Well, this complicates things," she grumbled in her own language.

“What…was that?" Paul asked.

Pox looked up at him and patted his cheek, “Nothing. You rest, sleep now."

Paul's mouth dropped open in surprise, “You have to be joking," he said, “How can I possibly sleep with you here ready to put a knife in my throat?"

The rat rolled her eyes and smacked his cheek hard, “Stupid human. Pox not go to trouble of giving medicine just to kill for no reason."

Paul winced at the slap, “Ow! You literally just threatened to do that!" he said, rubbing his cheek.

Pox shrugged, “Had reason then. Don't now. Now sleep before you give reason again," she said and slid her arms around his waist, hugging at him and once again resting her head on his chest.

Paul weakly struggled under her, but found her hold to be surprisingly strong, even without the weakness brought on by his illness. “Are you just going to stay there like that?"

The rat nodded and squeezed around his middle.

Paul grunted a bit and sighed, “Why?"

The rat shrugged, “Want to. Now sleep."

Paul sighed heavily, before laying back under the pillow. “I can't believe this is happening…" he muttered softly before closing his eyes and giving in to the exhaustion and letting sleep take him.

He felt as if he had only been asleep for a few moments when he heard a gravelly voice speaking up, “Well…isn't that adorable…"

Paul's eyes shot open, and he looked around, the light streaming in from the outside was a more orange color now, the Dawn Stone starting to fade. He saw Malachi sitting at a desk in the corner of the room, and then noticed the rat still sleeping on top of him and he nudged at her, “Ugh, get off, you beast!"

Pox squirmed and let out a wide yawn, before slowly rousing. She looked around before rolling off of the bed, crouching behind it and screeching loudly in the direction of Malachi.

The doctor raised his hand, “Easy there, I haven't told anyone about you. Though from the look of it you have been here for hours, I'm surprised one of the servants hasn't caught you yet. I presume they were too afraid to look in here," he said and then turned to Paul, “Well, you are looking well. I guess she gave you another dose of Theriac."

Paul sat up, looking between the rat and the doctor, “Another dose…wait, Doctor you have seen her before?"

Malachi nodded, “Yes, she came almost a week ago not long after I was first hired to look after you. She brought the medicine that allowed you to recover from the plague you are infected with."

Paul rubbed his head, “Does my father know about this?" he asked, looking to the doctor.

“Only that you got a dose of medicine, nothing more, and I plan on keeping it that way." He looked toward Paul, the expressionless beak like mask seeming to stare him down, “I imagine you will want to keep this embarrassment to yourself too."

Pox scratched at her ear and chittered under her breath, “Doctor take credit, say nothing about Pox. This good," she said with a nod.

Paul glared at her, “It's hardly…" he shuddered.

The doctor moved up and gave Paul a look over, “Well it seems like you are recovering well. That second dose might be enough to get you back on your feet in a few days. I'd recommend you get at least one or two more though, Theriac is powerful but even it has it's limits."

Paul looked at the rat and then the doctor, “What is Theriac?" he asked.

Pox shrugged, “Don't know Theriac. We call nasty juice. It cure all things," she said standing up.

Malachi nodded, “Theriac is a potion used by the children of Hectis as a cure all. I imagine what Pox here calls nasty juice, is a similar remedy, and the fact that you are recovering as well as you are lends credence to that theory." He then turned to Pox, “Did you bring any more of the herbs like I asked?"

Pox shook her head, “No herbs, only nasty juice," she said, “Other rat getting them. Will bring next time with next medicine."

Paul shook his head vigorously at that for a moment before realizing it was a bad idea, “No, there will not be a next time, I refuse."

Malachi looked to Paul, “I would suggest you reconsider. I spent the entire day scouring every apothecary and herbalist in this city, and I even went to your great university. None of them have the particular herb I need to make Theriac, and without another dose you have a strong likelihood of relapsing."

Paul shook his head, listening to the conversation, “No, Doctor you can't be serious. Do you know what that creature did to me?" he asked, “And you want to just leave me at her mercy?"

Malachi shrugged, “You have been at her mercy this whole time, there isn't anything I can do to change that. I'm a doctor, but without medicine there is only so much I can accomplish. She can get you the medicine you need, I can't."

Paul shuddered, shaking his head, “And how much more until I'm fully cured then?"

The doctor raised a hand to the chin of his mask as he thought, “With a case as bad as yours, at least one more dose, maybe two." He shrugged.

Pox chittered, having been listening to the conversation, “Two more. Pox can do. Bring more in six days, and six after," she said, then looked to Malachi, “Good?"

The doctor nodded, “Sure, that would do fine. He'll be up and about in a few days, you two can work out the details. As for me," he said before adjusting his mask, “I will be returning to the pesthouse probably tomorrow. If you can bring me the herbs there, we can work out some sort of payment."

Pox shrugged, making her way to the balcony. “I see what can do," she said, before climbing down and making her way off, leaving Paul and the doctor alone.

“If she brings you the herbs, can't you make more of the potion without me needing to deal with her?" Paul asked, moving to sit up fully on the bed. He was a bit dizzy he noticed, but not terribly so.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders, “If I can convince her to sell them to me, and the quantity is enough. It would be cheaper and easier for me to just let her do it since she seems intent on helping." He looked over to Paul, “How are you feeling? Think I can get you to the bath without you passing out?"

Paul slowly got to his feet, shaking a bit, but able to keep balance, “Hardly helping, she just wants to use me to get food for her," he shook his head, “I think I can make it there on my own…" he said. “That potion works amazingly quickly."

Malachi nodded, “Yes it does, if these were better times and I had a proper supply you'd be cured by now. I'm not sure why your friend there wants to take her time, but honestly I don't really care." He began to strip the sheets from the bed.

Paul shook his head, “That beast is no friend of mine, and the sooner I can be rid of her the better."

Malachi shrugged, “That's your business, not mine, but you might want to go get a bath before someone else smells her on you," he said, bundling up the sheets and blankets, “I'll have these changed out for clean ones. I don't need you getting a fresh infection from them."

Paul rolled his eyes, “Your concern is touching," he said sarcastically before making his way out of the room, leaning on a wall to keep his balance.