Preview

Prologue: Concerning this Book and its Inhabitants

This is NOT a story about humans. I will not say whether or not any humans exist in this story, because I don't want to ruin it for you before you even begin the first chapter. No, that wouldn't do! So suffice it to say that this story is not about humans. This story... is about rats. Imagine a desolate future about a thousand years from now where most humans are dead and gone, wiped out almost if not completely by some great calamity. What is this calamity, you may ask? Doesn't matter. This story is NOT about humans.

In the absence of humanity, different species have begun evolving complex brains, capable of self-awareness on a near-human level. These species include but are not limited to:

Rats

Mice

Cats

Crows

Ravens

Starlings

Parrots

Alligators

Amoebas (just kidding!)

and Ladybugs.

But this story is about rats. Specifically one colony of evolved rattus rattus (common brown rats) not too far from the crumbling ruins of what used to be New York City. The main characters are all rats. The villains are all rats. Most of the side characters who are completely oblivious to most of what happens in the world around them, are also rats. They eat their rat dinners, attend their rat churches, raise their little rat families, commit rat war crimes, and behave in a very similar fashion to humans around the Bronze Age.

The story focuses mainly on three colonies of rats.

Falgraen: is a small emergent rat town in the middle of a large grassy plain and next to a river, where the tips of the buildings of the neaby ruined city are just barely visible as a distant mountain range. The idyllic community relies largely on agriculture and an emerging copper trade. Falgraen is home to the first dairies and egg farms of rat civilization. They've cultivated rabbits for milk, sparrows for eggs and raise vegetable gardens containing mostly wild carrots and lettuce. Additionally, they've begun experimenting on cultivating different types of grass as a grain crop. Our protagonists hail from this riverside village. The local government is in theory a type of republic, but is in practice run by corrupt oligarchs.

Dlesa: is a bustling rat metropolis located on the outskirts of the ruined city, nestled in a grassy patch between four huge ruined buildings. Their economy depends on water from the large underground rivers (ancient sewers) and the stone quarries from the nearby ruins. The ground is far too rocky for anything other than dandelions and grass to grow, so they maintain trade with Falgraen and the occasional nomadic tribes that pass through. The colony is a functional monarchy, run by King Ha-Clad and the Cabinet. The Cabinet, however, has lately been infiltrated by members of a shadowy secret organization...

Dreamland/Madness: is located in the subterranean river-tunnels below Dlesa. The walls are lined with mineral rich rock, the fossilized excrement- I mean, remnant, of a long forgotten species. The society is very loosely defined, and is ruled largely by tribalistic spiritual leaders, or shamans. They survive by eating the mushrooms that grow from the stone walls and floors of their home.

Chapter 1: One day in Spring…

In a land not so very far from here, but oh so far in the future... humanity breathed its last. I leave it to the reader to decide whether they died with a bang or a whimper. Even if any of them survived the great calamity, their descendants probably don't remember what wiped them all out. But as I'm certain you've read in the prologue, this story doesn't concern them. (At least, I hope I made it clear.) No, this story is about something that from a human perspective would seem to have very little significance, but means perhaps the entire world to its subjects: Two young rats named Olande and Yanari.

They don't know, but I'll tell you... You know what? No. I'm not going to ruin this story for you. I'm sorry, I can't hear you complaining from all the way inside this book. Just keep reading.

Our story begins on the very outskirts of the idyllic riverside community of Falgraen. Our heroes are sitting on the riverbank behind Olande's stick bungalow on the river bank. Olande is trying to catch a fish, and as usual his sister Yanari is being no help whatsoever.

"Which would you rather be?" The setting sun glinted off of Yanari's unusually pale fur as she queried Olande, almost blinding her mild mannered younger brother. He chattered his teeth in mild annoyance.

"Yanari, not now..."

"Okay, okay just hear me out!" Yanari refused to be put off. "Would you rather... be one of the Council, or one of the Council's guards?"

"Gee, I dunno..." Olande answered snidely, trying to keep his focus on the little silver and golden fish swimming down the creek past his bungalow. If he couldn't catch one on the line wrapped around his paw, neither of them would eat today. "Which one would be a better fisher?"

"Oh come on little brother, don't be like that!" Yanari squeaked indignantly. The shrill, earsplitting sound was enough to frighten most of the fish far downstream and far away from Olande's hook. He whirled on her, paws clenched into fists.

"Now look what you've done!" His own squeak was loud enough to surprise even him, to the point he didn't notice the slightest tugging on the line... "Now I'm never gonna catch us a fi-" With another shrill squeak he fell into the cold rushing rapids of the creek, being dragged by the sunfish along the muddy bottom before his hind paws found purchase. With a mighty h-e-a-v-e! he hauled the fish back towards him... all while his older sister was laughing fit to split her blond sides.

"Of all the rats in all the world, this one had to be my older sister." Is what he would've been thinking, if his focus weren't entirely on landing the fish without drowning. With another strong pull, he dragged both himself and his prize onto the bank of the creek next to his stick bungalow. Yanari had the grace to look sheepish at his bedraggled, dripping coat, but it didn't help her case that she was still clearly supressing heavy laughter.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." But despite her best efforts, Olande's sopping form looked just too funny not to laugh at! Hiccuping with amusement, Yanari found herself rolling around in the grass as Olande tried to salvage his dignity.

"Ho ho, ha ha. Next time, please don't distract me. We have enough trouble without 'adventures' like this one." Well, that sobered Yanari up. She quickly stood up, brushing the dust off of her coat. The sun dipped lower over the hills as the pair dragged the little sunfish back into the bungalow, casting an orange light over the colony around them. Nobody knew when rats first settled in these parts, near the mysterious Maze of Mountains. But for as long as anyone could remember rats had three established colonies in the area, not counting the Wildrats in the forest who were largely nomadic.

The colony that this brother and sister lived in, where Olande kept their bungalow and Yanari was skinning their dinner, was called Falgraen. Falgraen was ruled by the Council, who were supposed to be elected officials. Considering however that they had won the last six elections in a row, they were well on their way to being established oligarchs. The colony in the Maze of Mountains, the huge, mysterious hollow rock formations about two miles from Falgraen, was called Dlesa. Dlesa was a monarchy, ruled by King Ha-clad the Wise.

Directly below Dlesa was the third and final colony, which had no formal name or government. The locals called it Dreamland, or Madness depending on which of them you asked. For the most part the rats of this colony lived off of strange mushrooms that grew in their massive subterranean tunnels, which were lined with mineral rich stone and full of water.

But right at this moment the two rats on the edge of Falgraen weren't concerned with anything other than the fish they were trying to skin. Though her teeth were sharp, Yanari was having some trouble biting through the scales to create a starting point for the job. Olande in the meantime was trying to start the fire, grumbling about wet wood.

"Who gathered these second rate logs?" He muttered, not expecting Yanari to hear him. But hear him she did, her ears sharp even for a rat. Her head whipped up from the dead fish, beady eyes fixed on him.

"You did, I think. At least, it was your turn to gather the wood last time."

Olande knew better than to say anything. Giving up on the fire for now, he trundled over to help his sister skin the fish. As the pungent aroma of fresh caught fish wafted through the little bungalow, both rats could hear their stomachs rumbling. It was almost loud enough to drown out the slight tapping on the door... A grouchy old voice that shook slightly trailed through the door. "Olande! Yanari! Open up, you young idiots! It's me!"

Of course they both recognized the voice. It was their oldest friend. Their really old friend, Rufus. Rufus had a black and white mottled coat and was seen by most of the colony as some kind of eccentric recluse. Everyone whispered about how he experimented on the Monoliths, the mysterious objects made of metal, some strange, glossy, semi-fragile material or both. The more ignorant called him a "senile old sorceror" who meddled with the dark arts. But the siblings, who visited him often and watched him work, understood differently.

Rolling her eyes at the old rat's sarcastic barb, Yanari opened the door. Rufus hobbled in, his sharp sense of smell largely taking the place of his failing vision as he surveyed the inside of the bungalow. "Hmm... sunfish tonight? I hope you don't mind me inviting myself over for dinner."

"We don't mind." Olande said, guiding Rufus over next to the cold fireplace to a comfortable moss nest. "Why don't you sit and relax while we prepare everything?" Motioning silently to Yanari to finish cleaning the fish, Olande tried again to get the fire going in the small hearth. While they worked, both young rats shared gossip with their elder. Since most other rats steered clear of Rufus, the siblings were his only source of news. His eyes boggled with excitement as they explained all the latest happenings and rumors.

"You know the new Palace the Council is building?" Olande chittered, his voice terse as he rubbed two sticks together to ignite them. "They're hiring all kinds of rats to gather up the neccesary materials. I was thinking about taking the job! We could use the extra food." It was of course a well known fact that the Council and their various servants had access to a large, private garden on the outskirts of the colony. The food harvested from it was used to feed the Council and pay their workers.

Rufus just shook his head, ears flattening slightly. "I don't think that's a good idea." Olande almost dropped the sticks in surprise when they finally caught fire.

"Why not?" He asked the elder, placing the smoldering sticks into the wood-lined hearth. With a few sharp breaths into the midst of the wood, the fire crackled to life. Yanari had by now finished skinning and gutting the fish, retreating outside to bury the entrails next to the small garden of buttercups her brother tended in the summer. Rufus looked Olande in the eye, which was something he rarely ever did and only when he was being dead serious.

"Because, the Council is a collection of corrupt officials who exploit the young and steal from the old. Besides, you know they cheat at every election." Rufus sighed, turning to watch the growing fire in the hearth. "I know you're trying to think of better ways to feed yourself and your sister, but do the Council really need this... Palace? And how can you be sure that they will pay you fairly for your work?"

As much as Olande hated to admit it, Rufus was making sense. Ever since he and Yanari were orphaned when they were little more than pups, Rufus had been both a father and a grandfather to them. He offered advice and comfort, never lied and was seldom wrong. Particularly when it was about either healing or politics, he seemed to have more wisdom than all the other rats combined.

"And why shouldn't the Council have a palace?" Yanari's sharp voice startled Olande and Rufus. They had both been so focused on their conversation that neither of them had noticed her coming in, still licking her paws clean of the slime from the fish. "They do a lot of hard work. And they should have a safe place to do it!"

Rufus waited until the siblings began to put the fillet from the sunfish on the glowing, fragrant coals of the fire to answer. "I agree that leaders should rule in safety. But if a ruler or set of rulers grows too accustomed to luxury, they run the risk of losing touch with their subjects."

Yanari and Olande blink in perfect synch. "You lost us." The fish sizzles on the coals, filling the little stick bungalow with the pungent; savory scent.

The old rat sighs. "Never mind. Let's just say, I think the Palace should be a little bit smaller, or less... grandiose. It could still serve it's purpose without getting between the government and it's people."

An awkward pause filled the stick bungalow, leaving a charged silence broken only by the crackle of the fire and the sizzle of the fish cooking. Yanari basted the fish with some rabbit-milk butter as the last of the evening sun trickled through the doorway, leaving the bungalow bathed in the soft, flickering orange and yellow firelight. Fires and the tiny flickering dots of little rabbit fat candles illuminated the other bungalows along the river, leaving the idyllic riverside community a reflection of the twinkling stars. The three rats took the buttery, flakey fish outside to eat it under the stars, and watch the night life of the nearby town come to life. Rats trundled down the streets on various errands, some on four legs, others (mostly the younger crowd) walked on two. Olande heard Rufus cursing under his breath at this.

"D--n kids. Rats were made to walk on four feet!"

The siblings just sniffed and kept nibbling at their fish, not grasping why the old never seem to understand or appreciate the young. They didn't know however, as they enjoyed their meal together, how much was going to change in just a little while...

* * * *

In the very heart of the colony rising high above the very tops of the tallest stick bungalows, the half-finished spires of the Palace of the Council loomed like menacing jagged fangs. The Council assured everyone it would look better when they were finished with it, and they meant that. Why would they want to live someplace that wasn't beautiful? At least, all this passed through the mind of Gelian as he ran on all fours as fast as he could down the twisting passages inside on his way to the Deliberation Chamber. He was late for the meeting as usual, which he supposed was why he never achieved more than the lowest possible rank in the Council. Out of everyone else on the Council, Gelian was always the last to know about anything. This, as it turns out, would be a blessing in disguise.

Gelian's green robe swished around him as he approached the door to the small, stuffy Chamber where the Council met once weekly. On an impulse that he couldn't explain he slowed down. Something didn't feel right. The wooden door to the Chamber was always open when the Council held its meeting... but despite it being shut, he could hear some rats speaking in low tones through the polished willow bark. Sneaking up to the door as quietly as he could, he pressed his ear to it to listen in.

Five different voices all squeaked and whispered in a cacophonous din, all speaking in synch over one another. He recognized at least two of them as members of the Council. Dawna, the second in command. Glascow, ranking... somewhere above him, he could never keep all twelve Council members straight. The other three voices were strange to him. Outsiders! Why were there strangers in the Council's chamber? And why was Dawna meeting them in secret like this?

At first everything was indistinct. But eventually Dawna's voice rang clear and a little shrill above the rest.

"Order. ORDER! What did I just say, Lorenzo?!"

A male voice, presumably Lorenzo, replied "Sorry m'lady." in a sheepish voice. A chair squeaked, presumably the speaker settling back into his seat.

Dawna cleared her throat and continued. "I hereby call this secret meeting to order. Glascow, are you sure we're alone? You sent out the memo moving today's regular meeting, right?"

"Yes, Dawna."

"Good. Now on to business."

Gelian flinched at that. Of course! That's what that young messenger was babbling about while he was getting dressed that morning! As usual, his head was too far up in the clouds to listen. But he's listening now... his ear never left the door. Dawna continued speaking.

"About the next election. Our benefactors assure me that everyone in this room will get a Council seat next vote. The wheels of democracy turn... but they will favor those who grease them. The rats here are like farm sparrows: give them anything and they will follow you, depend on you! We'll use this to our advantage."

The other rats in the room broke into applause. Gelian's hackles rose at this. They were discussing... TREASON. They were planning to subvert the elections! He wanted nothing more than to storm right in there and demand an explanation, to reprimand and physically fight each and every one of them: but common sense told him to keep still. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he did his best to still his angrily twitching tail and keep listening. He had to know more before he could do anything!

Another rat spoke up. "But what would we offer our voters? We already control most of the food supply."

"Exactly. We create a shortage and promise to end it!"

Gelian could hear a small smattering of hesitant applause before Dawna continued.

"Seeing as the three of you run the biggest farms in the colony, it's up to you to restrict the food supply juuust enough that people will beg for our help. Then you heroically deliver more food to the hungry people. This will guarantee that when you're inevitably nominated, you'll be elected by the grateful populace. I mean, who doesn't love a good hero?"

Raucous chuckles fill the room. Gelian's heart almost stopped. What were they doing? What's going on?! In his panic his arm gave an involuntary twitch, knocking against the door. Silently cursing his own clumsiness, Gelian backed up as quickly as he could, but couldn't get out of sight before the door flew open. It was Dawna, her robes, fur and tail all spick and span as usual. When Gelian looked behind her, he could see that besides her the chamber was empty. The fireplace, usually twinkling with embers, was cold and empty.

"Gelian." Dawna's voice had the same note of disdain she always seemed to show him. "Didn't you get the memo? There's no meeting today."

"Er, uhh, no. Messenger never reached me." Gelian hoped his lie would go unnoticed. Somehow, some way, he had to tell everyone. But that meant escaping without any other Council members knowing he knew what they were planning.

Can any of them be trusted? He wondered as he frantically trundled down the hallway, back away from the suddenly ominous Deliberation Room. Dawna made no move to stop him, apparently none the wiser.

This must be stopped... however I can, whatever I can do. But who can I trust? Where can I go? It hit him in a flash. An dear old friend of his, on the outskirts near the river. Rufus. If anyone would know what to do, it would be him. Gelian would run and tell Rufus.