Bramble & Patches

     Though it's not common knowledge, there was a NeoPox outbreak that occurred a couple days before Lord Kass declared war on Meridell. It's not widely believed these incidents are related, but some more conspiratorial archivists will try and have you believe it was a premonition of Darigan's return—how NeoPox was an analogy of sorts, a lesser version of the curse that fell upon the Citadel when the orb was taken by King Skarl.

      Naturally, the hospitals were overrun by sick patients looking to be cured of their ailments. Most were fearful that this was a direct result from Skarl's actions years prior, though there was and still isn't any base for that claim. One particular hospital located due east of the castle was very popular and saw clients increase at a rate of two-hundred percent—and that was because of a petite nurse named Patches.

      Nurse Patches was a small, white Cybunny with pink patches of heart-shaped fur who loved meeting Neopians and offering them the best service they'd ever seen. She took her job seriously, but not with too much poise; she could be quite clumsy but her outgoing personality and photogenic looks won over coworkers and clients alike. She treated everyone with the same respect, kindness, and attention she believed everyone deserved, and it truly resonated with the people. But especially with a knight named Bramble.

      Bramble was the polar opposite of Patches; he was big and bulky, the majority of his body being composed of pure Skeith muscle. He was snarky and unimpressed, looking down on anyone he felt was a fraction inferior to himself. He was one of Skarl's most trusted, influential knights, capable of getting the most difficult citizens in line. He was so rough around the edges, so decidedly unlikeable, so unnecessarily prickly, that he not only lived up to his namesake, he surpassed it on an unenviable scale. He was called Bramble for a reason, you know.

      When the scary Skeith began to notice itchy, red blotches on his neck, he grumbled about being "stronger" than the sickness—he was Skarl's favorite, the best knight around. As if he'd let some silly cold get him down? Ha! That was until he passed out after screaming at a young Ixi, waking up two hours later with a bunch of little kids poking at his armor. He decided to swallow his pride and visit the hospital.

      The line out the door was staggering; Neopians of all ages were hanging outside. Some had even brought chairs with them. Fueled by the nausea and his own personal wrath, Bramble shouted, "GET OUT OF MY WAY, I'M A KNIGHT FOR THE KING!" before storming through the crowd and shoving his way to the front of the line. He saw a small nurse leaning down to check an Ixi's temperature, when he used a long nail to tap her on the shoulder.

      He didn't know it then, but this was the moment his life was destined to change.

      "Excuse me? I need you to give me something."

      Patches ignored him, talking quietly with the Ixi, whose giant eyes gazed up at Bramble in fear. She smoothed the boy's hair and whispered a joke into his ear, which caused him to laugh joyously.

      "MISS? Did you not hear me? I am a knight for the King—"

      "No, I heard you," she replied, not taking her eyes off the boy. She fiddled with the temperature gauge. "It's not your turn yet, so if you could wait quietly while I help Rimo, then I would really appreciate that."

      Bramble huffed and crossed his arms, thinking of a threat or insult to get her to hurry up. He was hit by a second wave of nausea, so he tabled the idea and muttered to himself while he did his least-favorite thing: wait.

      Eventually she gave the boy the all-good to go, handed him a lollipop, and stood. She flattened the wrinkles and turned to give her attention to Bramble, who had begun to doze off.

      She patted his arm and he snorted, rubbing his face. He opened his mouth to give her a stern warning, when his heart dropped down into his stomach. Her long eyelashes batted like the wings of a Lightmite, her eyelids the color of cherry blossoms, her lips moving in the shape of … a very impatient Cybunny asking what he needed.

      Dazed, he rubbed the side of his head and stuttered out, "I-I think … i-is sick." He mentally kicked himself for sound so stupid, but relief flooded through him when the corners of her mouth curled into a smile.

      "What seems to be the problem?" she asked, trying not to look as amused as she was.

      "NeoPox, maybe?"

      "Well," she sighed, reaching into her pockets to grab a pair of gloves. She slid one on and murmured, "I think those are freckles." She poked his cheek and laughed when his face turned a dark shade of red. "But those," she said seriously, inspecting the blotches on his neck, "definitely are not normal. I think your initial diagnosis was correct, Sir Knight. This looks like NeoPox to me. Don't worry too much about it; there seems to be a lot of cases of it going around, so you probably got it from a friend or … something."

      "Me? Ha! I don't have friends. I have superiors and inferiors."

      "No friends?" Patches gasped, rummaging through a box of various oils, ointments, and miscellaneous vegetation. "That's so sad! How do you ever expect to accomplish anything in this world?"

      "A-accomplish? I'm King Skarl's most trusted knight, I'd say I accomplished a lot. Wouldn't you?" He asked the last bit nervously, surprised she didn't seem more impressed. She shrugged in response, her reaction making Bramble's jaw drop.

      "I think friends are important, is all," she added, picking up a brown bottle before scrunching up her nose and putting it back. "I have the gift of insight. It allows me to see into the future of certain people. There has to be a 'click', though. And when I touched your freckles, it came to me. I just think that one day, when you're old and King Skarl has replaced you with another new favorite, you're going to be looking out the window and wonder …"

      "Wonder what?"

      "Hm. I don't know, Sir Knight," she said, finally finding the bottle she was looking for. She looked him in the eye as she applied the ointment to his neck. "That's not for me to discover, is it?"

      "I-I don't think that's how it happens," Bramble countered. "When I'm old, people will remember me. They'll remember how I was the best knight, how I took care of King Skarl's problems, how I intimidated the best of them. That's what I want to be known for, not for having friends. Who cares about that?"

      "All done," she whispered. She looked considerably sadder than she did moments ago. She took off her glove and tossed it into the bin besides her, her eyes lingering on Bramble's freckles. She reached out, as if to comfort him, but instead cupped her hands to her chest and said, "Well, then, Sir Knight, I hope we're both wrong."

      Stunned, he nodded dumbly and staggered out of the hospital. By the time he reached the castle, he realized he didn't even ask that nurse for her name. Her voice echoed in his mind for days after that, only interrupted when the news broke there had been an attack on the castle.

     ***

      Once something happens to you that fundamentally shifts you and your perspective on life, it's hard to reimagine who you used to be. The effects of the war stuck with Bramble for a long while, causing him to wake up in the middle of the night with sweat dripping down his forehead, the images he saw as vibrant in his waking state as they were in his dreams. This continued for years, and while they did lessen considerably over time, they never lost their impact.

      Then, as if in a dream, a decade came and went. He could still hear that lovely nurse's words in his mind, playing on an endless loop, I just think that one day … you're going to be looking out the window and wonder …

      Back then, when he was young and foolish, he didn't know what she was talking about; why would anyone care about having friends or accomplishing anything other than being the best knight? But now, as Bramble stared out the foggy window, he allowed his mind to wander … and as it did, he found himself wondering why he insisted on being so callous, not having the opportunity to change and apologize before having to say goodbye to all those he considered closest him …

      A knock on the door brought Bramble back to reality. He stood, joints aching from age, and made his way to the front door. His house was small and was close to the castle, a small gift from the King after being discharged for "fulfilling his duty in defending His Lordship". A boy smiled wide when he saw Bramble and said, "Hi, Mr. Bramble! I've got a letter here for you!"

      Bramble smiled. "How are you today, Eddie?"

      "I'm doing alright. Nothing to write home about." He handed the letter to the old Skeith and hurriedly explained, "My mom bought me the newest Yooyuball racket, so I've got to finish the rest of these delivers. I'll see you later!"

      Bramble waved as the boy ran off, and laughed to himself. He shut the door and opened the large piece of papyrus. In delicate handwriting, the letter read:

     Knight Bramble,

      You are cordially invited to attend The Battle for Meridell Remembrance Ball, to be held in the King's Castle at Eight o'clock tonight.

      Thank you for your service and we hope to see you tonight.

      Please wear formal attire.

     King Skarl & Co.

      Bramble whistled. It had really been ten years since everything happened. Time passes by surprisingly quick when you spent the majority of it watching the past.

      He checked the clock on the wall. He had a few hours to get ready, and he wasn't sure what he was going to wear.

     ***

      "Do you have your invite, sir?"

      The Draik guard reached out, waiting patiently while Bramble fumbled through his pockets. He pulled out the crumbled invite and grimaced. The Draik didn't seem to notice and instead bowed, saying, "Welcome, Knight Bramble."

      He nodded and made his way inside the castle. Only a few things changed since Bramble had last been inside; where Meristones used to be was now a red Zafara, waving her arms wildly while spewing lots of useless information about potions, and Meriball seemed to have disappeared completely. Bramble wiped his brow, more nervous than ever.

      The castle was more crowded than he expected and he hardly recognized anyone; either age had transformed them into a different Neopian altogether or they were just wee lads when the war happened. Self-conscious, he turned to leave when he heard her.

      "Sir Knight?"

      He whipped around to see her. She hadn't aged a day, her eyelashes just as long and her smile just as real. She cupped her hands over her mouth, eyes glistening as they filled with tears.

      Afraid he might've done something, Bramble rushed over and asked, "What? What happened?"

      "Y-you're al-live!" she sobbed, throwing her arms around him in a hug. She barely reached his bellybutton, face buried into his chest, crying loudly. He quickly enveloped her in a hug and whispered, "Of course I am."

      "S-so many were lost," she hiccupped, pulling away to wipe her eyes. "I was afraid … I was afraid you were one of them, because I never … I never saw you again."

      "Immune system of a beast," he joked, pounding his chest. "I thought about visiting, but it seemed like maybe you didn't want to see me again."

      She shook her head. "I thought about you every day. I tried finding you—I asked the other knights, but they refused to give me information. I even interrogated the King, but he simply told me I wasn't funny and kicked me out! No one would help me, so I gave up. Then I heard about this ball, and I knew—I knew I had to see. Even if you weren't here, I had to try …" The tears began flowing once again, and he pulled her into another hug.

      "I … thought about you, too." He felt clunky and awkward, unsure of what to say. Out of nowhere, the words began flying out of his control. "I didn't want to believe you were right, but you were. When Kass attacked—it changed everything. It changed me. But it … it was too late. They were gone before I could tell them I was sorry. Skarl discharged me without a second thought. You were right. I had no one. I have no one."

      Patches pushed him back and gasped. "No, Sir Knight. That's not true at all. You had me."

      "But—but you weren't there. I mean, you were there, but … look at me. Look at us. We're so much older. Time has come and gone. I never accomplished anything worthwhile. I sit at home all day, looking out the window, just like you predicted …"

      She punched his arm, surprising him. "You locked yourself away because you were afraid of who you were. Isn't that right? Your heart changed, but you were too scared of it going back that you put it in a cage. Don't try and tell me I'm wrong; I have the gift of insight, you know." She placed her hand over his heart and pressed. "It's not too late. Yes, perhaps you spent these last ten years wondering what you did wrong … but you have so many more years to do something worthwhile. And I do too."

      Bramble placed his hand over hers. "Do you really think I have a chance?"

      "Of course," she grinned. "I have the insight. And as I'm touching your heart, it's coming to me."

      "What is?"

      She winked. "I guess we'll just have to find out together."

      Suddenly, it hit Bramble. His eyebrows furrowed inquisitively and he stuttered, "I-I just realized, I don't know your name!"

      Patches laughed loud enough for other partygoers to turn her way. She pointed at her heart-shaped patches and declared, "Hello, Mr. Sir Knight. My name is Patches. And you are?"

      He took her by the hand and led her toward the food table. "It's nice to meet you, Patches. My name is Bramble."

     The End.