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Paul sat in his office and sighed as yet another knock came at the door. It was probably the twentieth visitor he had that day, “Yes yes, come in,” he said with a sigh, getting a fresh sheet of paper and rubbing at his eyes. “How can I help you today?”

“You can start by paying the proper respects, boy,” a stern voice said to him.

Paul glanced up and dropped his pen as he spotted the three red robed figures that had joined him. One he immediately recognized as Councilman Herman Stone, who had addressed him. The others were Archbishop Lucious from the Church of the Holy Sun, and a frail looking boy he didn’t recognize. “Your Your Eminence,” he said getting to his feet and then dropping to a knee in front of the archbishop.

The archbishop offered a ring that Paul kissed before nodding, “Rise, young man. We have important matters to discuss.”

Paul nodded and got back to his feet, “Yes, of course, how can I help you?” he asked, swallowing as he looked between the two men and then to the boy.

Councilman Stone nodded, “It’s about your father,” he said, “The church has brought the same petition to the floor for several months now, and the other members have been evenly divided on this, but your father, getting my vote, has always voted it down.”

Paul sat down in his seat, “I…what do you expect me to do about that?”

“We hope you can convince him to let the church do what it must,” the Councilman said.

“What plan is that, exactly? I haven’t been privy to many meetings lately, as Father has kept me busy here with the running of his office,” Paul said.

The archbishop spoke up, “That is not important, the-” he was then cut off by the boy.

“No, Lucious,” he said, speaking with authority despite his young age, “This is no time for secrecy.” He then addressed Paul, “I am Lambert, Saint of the Holy Sun. It’s by my life blood that the Dawn Stone is lit every month.” He raised a hand as Paul was about to get out of his seat again, “Please, that’s not necessary,” he said, “I don’t care for all the formalities,” he moved to an empty seat across from Paul and sat down.

Paul swallowed, “A-a-as you wish, Your Grace,” he said, nervous now that he knew that not only two, but the three most powerful men in the Church were before him in his cramped office. “Please continue.”

The boy nodded and recounted a story that Paul could tell he had said countless times in the past, about getting a vision that he was to take the Dawn Stone on a holy quest out of the city and be guided by three prophets that would lead him to restoring the sun to its former glory.

Paul listened intently to the story and nodded, “That…that would be wonderful!” he said.

The archbishop nodded, “Yes it would, but the Dawn Stone, in addition to being a holy relic of our Lord, is vitally important to the defense of this city. It is what keeps the vampires at bay,” he said.

Paul let out a heavy sigh, “I see,” he nodded, “I am afraid I don’t know what to tell you then, good sirs. Once my father makes up his mind, especially when it comes to keeping this city safe, he’d need a good reason to change it.”

Lambert spoke up, “It is the fate of the world at large. If I take the Dawn Stone on this pilgrimage, I do believe we can restore our Lord to his former glory, his radiance would shine down on this earth, and deliver us all from the threat of the vampires.”

Paul nodded and he tapped his pen as he thought, “What are my father’s specific objections?” he asked.

Councilman Stone waved a hand, “What aren’t his objections? They change every time the petition is made. Right now, his main concern is that we are already seeing more and more attacks. There was that vampire that was found dead in the street only a few months ago, and there were two more bodies found exsanguinated since then.”

Paul listened and gave a nod, “Yes, I heard about that one, impaled on a pole wasn’t it?” he asked, shifting in his seat some. He of course knew what had actually happened, Pox had killed the vampire and saved him from being one of those corpses.

The archbishop shook his head, “Yes, but the church believes that to be an anomaly, we don’t know who was able to slay the vampire like that, as there were no witnesses to the event.”

Paul nodded again, and gave a small shrug, trying to play off of it with a small chuckle, “Maybe it was a rat? I have never heard of any of them being found drained of blood. Perhaps they know something we don’t?” he asked.

The archbishop snorted, “Rats, filthy vermin. The only thing they are good at is thieving from your very own grow houses.”

Paul tensed slightly, “Yes, they are quite skilled at stealing food,” he said, then continued, “But what about the Church’s knights? Can’t they protect the city while the stone is away? I mean…they already do it now,” he said gesturing with his hand.

“And send the stone, and our last living saint out into the world without protection?” the archbishop scoffed, “Absolutely out of the question, and…” he gave a pause glancing at Lambert, “And to be honest, the church doesn’t have the manpower. We are barely holding things together here, we can’t afford to split our forces.”

“What about recruiting new knights?” Paul asked.

Councilman Stone spoke up, “We don’t have the funds to pay them. Since we cannot light the Dawn Stone daily as we could in the past, attendance at church services has had a marked decline, which also means we haven’t had as much revenue. The city subsidizes us with food and needed supplies for the men we have, but we can’t afford the wages workers get at the mines or rail yard.”

Paul sighed some, “I can try to discuss the matter with my father, but I can make no promises that I’ll be able to change his mind. I would have better luck talking to a boulder.”

Councilman Stone nodded, “Well, anything you could do would be appreciated in that matter. The urgency grows by the day, and we are exhausting all available avenues," he said, giving a nod to the archbishop.

As the other two left, Lambert stayed back for a moment, “Thank you for hearing us out. I do appreciate it,” he said with a forlorn sigh.

Paul nodded, “Your Holiness…if I may?” he asked leaning in, and when the boy nodded, he continued, “If I were you, I’d just take the stone. It’s church property, and the laws binding you to the city’s will are stupid. I say, get a few good men to protect you and it, and then hop on the next train out of town. The elders delayed the last lighting by several weeks, and they could do it again. That would buy you plenty of time before anyone knows what happened.”

Lambert smiled, “I had thought of that…but the people would begin to panic and lose hope the longer the stone isn’t lit…”

Paul nodded, “A little lost hope is a small price if you can actually fix this broken mess of a world though.”

Lambert nodded, “Perhaps…you have an interesting wisdom about you, Mr. Hawthorne.”

Paul smiled, “Call me Paul, and…thanks, I guess. Good luck to you.”

Lambert gave a polite bow, “And you as well,” he said before turning and leaving.

Paul sighed and settled into his chair, leaning back and running both hands through his long brown hair, “Ugh…” he rubbed his temples and sat up, glancing at a clock on the wall. He still had thirty minutes left in his workday, but he decided to leave early. He got up and pulled his coat from a hook, and then turned down the gas lamps to just the dull glow of the pilot lights, and then he closed and locked the office door.

He pulled out a small booklet to double check his father’s schedule to make sure he wouldn’t be missed, and then made his way out of the council chambers, and into the cool afternoon air. There was a light snow beginning to fall. He started to walk in the direction of his home, following his usual path that took him away from busy streets.

Once in the maze of side streets, he heard a rustling of fabric and something thudding into the ground behind him before a pair of arms grabbed him and pulled him into an alley. A dirty hand covered his mouth, to keep him from yelling out. He felt the hot breath on his neck, followed by the swipe of a tongue, “Nasty soap,” he heard the rat tease into his ear, before the grip loosened.

Paul shuddered and then pulled away, seeing Pox there. He had expected her to show up, but she still caught him by surprise. He brightened when he saw her though, and smiled, “Well I can’t help that,” he said, “Most humans don’t care for the smell of rat piss, and I do need to keep up some level of decency.” He glanced around toward the street, before looking her up and down. He then braced himself and he leaned forward while pulling the rat’s muzzle in for a kiss.

Pox held the kiss for a few moments and then pulled back and huffed, “Pox think piss smell much better than nasty fake flower oil,” she said as she smiled back at him. She then started leading him along, making their path more twisted and winding as she listened out for people that might notice them, and diverted Paul away.

“Yes well, I don’t, and neither do most humans,” he said and looked her over, “While we are on the topic, you, my love, smell like rancid fish meat today, and I dread to think of what you actually were wallowing in,” he said, making a show of covering his mouth with a kerchief.

Pox looked down at herself and casually sniffed the air around her before giving him a playful shove. “Smell not that bad!” she complained, “Had to swim in river to avoid watch dogs. Pox and others were robbing train yard. Many good foods come in from far away.” She reached into her belt pouch and produced a small yellow fruit that she offered.

Paul let out a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose, and waved the fruit away, “Pox…no thank you…you know you don’t…if you would just ask me, I can probably get you those things legally. I know the man who owns those trains.”

Pox’s nose wrinkled at that, “Is that stupid fat man with stupid daughter?” she asked him, before biting into the fruit and munching on it.

Paul rolled his eyes, “They are all stupid fat men with stupid daughters. That hardly narrows it down any.” He smiled when he heard Pox giggling at his comment and then shook his head, taking her hand in his as they walked, “But really, I have money, I can just buy food for you.”

Pox shook her head, “If stupid fat man can’t protect food, then deserves to have stolen. Can go hungry a few days, not be so fat,” she took another large bite of the fruit, and grinned wide, showing off her yellowish teeth.

Paul sighed and reached up to smack the back of her head gently, “Quit being dumb, you know other people have bought that food to sell at the market,” he said.

Pox snorted and smacked him back, “Yes, Pox knows all about this. Stupid fat man buys food for two silver coins from other stupid fat man who buys from some far off stupid fat man for one silver coin, then first fat man sells to stupider thin man for four silver coins.”

Paul sighed some, “You know, if you rats didn’t steal the food, then the first stupid fat man would only have to sell his food for three silver coins to the thin man.”

Pox huffed at that and gave him a shove, sending him stumbling for a moment “Stupid fat man not that stupid. Would still sell for four, just keeps extra silver for himself.” She finished eating her fruit and spat the pips out onto the cobbles as they walked.

“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” he asked and then grinned, deciding to press her a bit, “Have you considered that the third man far away might not be fat? He could be the one growing the food.”

Pox started giggling at that, “Then he double stupid. Grow lots of food and not eating it. Rats who grow food and eat it are smartest and fattest, and their clans are smartest and fattest too!”

Paul chuckled, “Well, you might not be a fat rat, but you are a smart one, I’ll give you that.” He said and squeezed her hips.

Pox ruffled his hair with a hand, “Yes Pox agrees, rats smart and keep things simple, stupid humans do everything complicated.”

“And just how do rats do it then? How do you decide who gets food and who doesn’t?” Paul asked her.

Pox giggled, “Everyone gets to eat. Rats who are good at stealing food go get it and bring back to share with clan as best as can,” she said.

Paul nodded, “And what if there isn’t enough for everyone?”

“We share anyway, better for all to be a little hungry than for some rats to starve,” she said. “If one rat really wants belly full, he will have to fight for it, or not be lazy and make sure to help get extra.”

Paul shook his head, “And if a rat can’t defend himself? Does he starve then?’

Pox shrugged some, “Maybe. Depends on rat, if too weak or lazy then maybe need starve,” she said, stopping in another alley, “Of course elder rats different. They take what they want. Never have empty bellies unless everyone else does.”

Paul sighed some, leaning on her a bit as they walked, “Yeah…that story sounds about the same no matter where you hear it. The ones in charge make the rules and take what they want.”

Pox nodded and then shrugged, “Yes, but what can do? World is bad, getting worse all the time. No one wants to make better.”

“I do,” Paul countered, “And I talked to the archbishop today, they have an idea to fix the world, but my father and the rest of the council are stopping them.”

Pox snorted, “What they do? Fix sun?” she asked, looking up at the dark sky.

Paul nodded, looking up with her. He ran his hand along her side, “Yeah, actually. The one who lights the Dawn Stone, St Lambert, says he’s been getting visions that he should take the stone on a pilgrimage across the world, but he might be able to restore the sun.”

Pox shrugged, “So why they not do it?”

Paul sighed, “Because my Father mostly. He’s voting against them, he has concerns about the idea. So the church isn’t allowed to take it from the city.”

Pox snorted, “Father’s only concern is coin purse. If sun comes back, people can grow food outside walls again."

Paul rubbed his chin, “That is probably one reason yes,” he thought about it as they walked, “You know, I bet the others on the council might be voting the same for the same greedy reasons. I know Councilman Black has holdings in the coal mines, and everything in the city runs on coal and gas,” he then sighed, shaking his head, “But even if that was the case, there is no way to prove it.”

They soon arrived at Paul’s street, and he looked up at the rat, and held both of her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze, “Well…thanks for walking me home,” he said and glanced around seeing no one there once more, he leaned in and kissed her muzzle. “I suppose you’ll want to?” he started, imagining she would want to join him in bed.

Pox shook her head, “No, not tonight. Pox is just walking home making sure no other rats or blood suckers harm Pox’s mate.”

Paul blinked a moment in surprise, “Oh…what are you going to do then?” he asked. Normally, the rat would be eager to spend the night in his bed.

Pox grinned evilly at him, “Pox going to bar by rail yard. Going to punch up many big strong humans and get lots of alcohol to take home.”

Paul had to laugh at that again, “Oh, well, tell me next time. Maybe I’ll come watch,” he said. He hadn’t been back to the bar since that night he and Pox had their re-match. He hadn’t seen the need, and he figured they’d all tease him for being afraid of having to fight the rat again anyway, so he kept his distance.

Pox smiled, “Pox will visit some other time for sex and to piss on mate,” she teased, and leaned in to give his cheek a lick, and hugged him tightly. Then turned, with her cape billowing behind her as she vanished into the darkness.

Paul turned and smiled as he entered the large house. He had to admit, things had so far gone well for him, since he and Pox had decided to become a couple. He liked their nightly walks home, and their banter was stimulating.

† † †

The next day found Paul coming down to breakfast to find his father sitting at the table still, with a newspaper in his hand. That was unusual as his father liked to start his work early so that he wouldn’t be bothered before the council met. Paul took a seat, “Good morning father,” he said.

Jonathan glowered at him, “Good morning,” he said, continuing to read his paper. “I heard you had some special guests yesterday.”

Paul nodded as he sat down, getting some of the bread that had been baked for breakfast, “Yes, the Archbishop came to have a word with me,” he said as he smeared a bit of butter on the bread before taking a bite.

Jonathan nodded, turning to another page, “You didn’t make any promises, I hope.”

“Of course not, but I would like to better know your reasoning. If the sun could be restored, wouldn’t that make things better for all of us?” Paul asked.

Jonathan didn’t look up from his paper, “That is a very large ‘if’ there. The church’s plan is ambitious, but there is no guarantee that it would even work, and in the meantime, we wouldn’t have the dawn stone to rely on as a beacon of hope and protection.”

Paul took another bite of bread, “But how can we counter the vampires if we don’t light the stone anymore anyway? It’s been months since the last time, and I saw St Lambert, I don’t know how much longer he has in him.”

Jonathan continued to read his paper, growing silent as his eyes scanned the page. Paul didn’t notice at first as he busied himself with breakfast, but then he glanced up, seeing anger painted on the older man’s face.

“Is everything alright Father?” he asked, glancing to the paper.

“You tell me, you little shit,” the older man growled, turning the page around and slamming it down on the table.

Paul looked at the page and read the headlines before suddenly his face went pale as he caught one line. “The Rat Lover of Sollenfurt.” It only took a quick glance through the article to see that it was clearly about him and Pox, calling out Paul by name, and detailing some of their nightly walks.

“You better have a good explanation for this!” the older man yelled, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up, looming over Paul, “It’s that same rat from before, isn’t it?” he asked with another shout.

Paul gave a slow weak nod of his head, before it was suddenly snapped to the side as the back of his father’s hand hit his face. One of the heavy signet rings slammed into Paul’s temple leaving a gash that started to bleed.

“You pathetic miserable fucking pervert! I can’t believe this, you just threw out months of my hard work building up your image to something respectable, just so you could fornicate with some…disgusting animal!” the older man snarled in his rage.

Paul sat there in shock for several moments before anger began to boil up within him and something snapped. He jumped to his feet and punched his father hard in the jaw sending the older man reeling backwards, “Yes, father, I did! Because that disgusting animal, as you call her, is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, she’s shown me more love and compassion than anyone else ever has!”

Jonathan growled as he steadied rubbing his jaw where he had been hit, “If you weren’t my own flesh and blood…You make me sick!” he snarled.

Paul shook his head, “I don’t care anymore, I’m done living in your shadow and playing to your games!” he said storming closer and grabbing onto his father’s shirt, shoving him back against the wall.

Jonathan glowered at Paul, “I will not have you drag my good name through the muck!” he said, shoving Paul back again, “I am going to hire a rat catcher and put an end to this bullshit at once!” he growled.

Paul punched him in the jaw again, “You will do no such thing! I love her, and I don’t give a damn about your name, or any of this anymore! I’m done with all of this,” he said turning and storming away toward the foyer.

Jonathan followed him, hot on his heels, “Where do you think you are going boy? Get back here!” he grabbed Paul’s shoulder and had to back away as another punch was thrown.

“I don’t care, as long as it’s away from you!” Paul shouted, “I’m done with this fucking life, I’m tired of all these games!” he then turned and grabbed onto the door handle.

Jonathan spoke up, “Don’t you dare walk out that door boy! If you do, you are cut off! You’ll never have a career in this town, I’ll work to my last breath to make you rue the day you crossed me!”

Paul looked back and spat on the floor before pushing the door open and heading out into the cold crimson morning, with his father’s shouts and threats following him.