Brocken and Mishkat

Brocken's rebirth page 2

The city was was a different place than how she remembered it several years ago.  But then again she has changed too.  Some things, however were still the same.  A familiar restaurant here; a favored resting spot in the shade over there.  Even some timeless faces seemed to catch her eye.  The butcher with his crooked mustache; Old Lady Bella watering her ferns from her stoop.  A gentle smile escaped Mishkat's muzzle upon seeing Azreala, the flower girl, now a blossomed woman and with child no less.  Yes things have changed some, both old and new alike.

Mishkat bobbed though the throng of people in her rush to reach the house of Lord Hitaro.  Her heart skipped a beat as she turned the corner and saw that elegant green frame work of the guard railing to the house.  The countless hours she'd spent there with Brocken, learning to read and write.  Just as Mishkat reached for the railing a small strong paw clenched her hand.  There was no mistaking the velvet-vice like grip that was Nana's.  Mishkat was almost startled by her sudden appearance behind her.

"Mishkat, is it really you?"  A teary eyed Nana said.

"Nana, You move without a sound!" exclaimed Mishkat.

The two embraced and began to cry.  Nana treated me always as her own.  The moment felt as if I'd been away on a pilgrimage and finally I return home to Mother.  But she quickly brushed aside tears, thoughts of what brought her to this place flooded Nana's mind and she lead Mishkat into the house, bolting the door behind them.  Nana drew the heavy curtains down blocking out the beautiful morning's light.  Her strong voice trickled to a whisper as she lead Mishkat into the study.

"Child hear an old ladies plea.  Young Brocken has...Changed."  Nana almost burst into tears but strangled them back with several deep breaths.

"Changed Nana?" Mishkat asked.  Her ears picked up the sound of something smashing on the ground perhaps a glass or plate.  It was hard to tell the heavy oak doors of the study were slightly ajar.

Looking briefly to the door Nana said, "He's cursed child.  The gods are punishing him for sure.  But for the life of me, I know not what such a pure soul as his, could have done.  He's become...Tainted, his form is demonic and mores the pity as it grows worse each day."

"What!" Mishkat gasped as she rushed for the door towards the sound of blood curtailing howl.

Nana drew Mishkat with unfailing strength.  "He drinks to forget.  Now the demon in the bottle has him too.  I've tried to reach Lord Hitaro but he is away over seas in some foreign desolate land.  It maybe months before correspondence reaches him, if at all.  I don't know what more to do.  He refuses to see the doctors and mystics.  I summoned you hopping you could help him find reason to live and fight again.  Please..." She said crumpling into an arm chair, grief stricken.

Mishkat stormed out the study and stopped short of opening Lord Hitaro's quiet room.  Something heavy had smashed against it and the floor was damp with the smell of Alexian wine.  Mishkat pressed hard against the sliding doors and stepped over a piece of dented plate mail armor.  The room was quiet for the moment, the window curtains drawn and all the lights were out save for the fireplace.  It's illumination sent chills down her spine.  The room was devastated.  Armor thrown about, broken glass littered the floor, family portraits brutal slashed and torn asunder.  The stench of ale and wine assaulted Mishkat's nostrils to the point she felt dizzy.  She noted in the flickering light that someone was resting on the arm chair.  A burly arm hung from it clenching a bottle of wine.  The snoring was a dead giveaway that it was Brocken, but not much else could be seen.  Mishkat began to walk closer till she accidentally kicked something on the ground and it chimed against something metallic.

Brocken jerked slightly and began to speak in a drunken stupor.  "Wh--whoos theere.  Di ju remember to ---winnnne?  Lev and geeout."

Something inside Mishkat burned and rage began to take over and yet she spoke coolly.  "Brocken... it's me.  Mishkat.