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Disconnection


Evangeline Anovilis

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Hannah H. Hazelwood was putting up a kettle of hot water, as the door bell rang. While the noblewoman had no longer any office or government function, she still worked on maintaining and cultivating the ties she was left with, the threads that kept her in a position of influence. It was after all her duty now, to watch over what was left of her Master's work, lest it would fall apart. But such was not an easy task...

 

Although Hazelwood already guessed who the visitor was, she still first opened the door just enough to catch a glimpse at who was behind, before opening up, as she found her suspicions confirmed. Florence de Pétèvellier, former Minister of the Exterior and one of the sole two confidantes of their late Master was waiting, with a friendly smile. "Good day. I was around, so I thought I'd pay a visit. Do I disturb you with something?" Hazelwood just sighed, having to watch this most likely fake smile, before responding. "Feel free to come in. I have some teawater up. Would you want some?"

 

"Oh, sure. What kind?" Hazelwood for a moment was quiet, putting in the tea leaves. "Pasirung Highlands tea. Sole thing one can afford here, though it does kind of taste bland. But over the years, maybe they manage to produce a decent harvest.", she finally replied. While Hazelwood was busy preparing the tea, Pétèvellier took a seat, waiting for the hostess and the new tea. "Well, it's the first harvest. No need to be so critical. They sure tried their best and I already earlier had some of the new coffee. It is not too bad."

 

Hazelwood just ignored the comment, as she brought in the two cups, as well as a bowl of sugar cubes. "Honestly, I more drink it to warm myself up, than because of its taste." After taking a sip of the tea, which seemed to have hardly any taste, Hazelwood however finished the talk on tea, as she looked at her guest sharply. "So, what is it that caused you to come here? I doubt you just came into the middle of nowhere, just to see my person."

 

Pétèvellier looked surprised for a moment. "I knew you were rather harsh, but today, you are quite the unfriendly fellow." Was the former minister however surprised by the treatment, she found herself utterly shocked when she took a sip from her cup. For a moment, she struggled not to spit it out, before gulping it down, putting the cup on the saucer and looking carefully at Hazelwood. "May I ask, are you alright?" This time, Hazelwood looked surprised. For almost a minute, she was at a loss of words. Why would Pétèvellier even care? What did she plan? Well, she wasn't feeling too well, but her physical ailments weren't something of interest to someone like Pétèvellier anyway. "Everything's fine. Why do you ask?"

 

Pétèvellier wondered for a moment, whether to take the reply or pry further, but most likely, if Hazelwood felt not like saying anything, it was useless to ask. "I came here, because Loriot has left." Slowly, Hazelwood put down her cup, but Pétèvellier easily saw that it was mostly just to cover up that her hand was slightly shaking. "She seems to have taken out Rochefort in surprise."

 

Gulping, Hazelwood slowly regained her composure. "Well, I guess that treason these days is no longer confined to the lower ranks. If Master would know..." "More like, it is because Master is gone, that people leave. And with Loriot on the run... it is hard to see what point there is to continuing." Hazelwood felt a sharp pain in her stomach area, as she tried to think of a response, but couldn't. First Master, then Loriot... this was disintegrating fast. It had to stop. She had to make it stop. "What do you mean by that? We have not fulfilled our Master's objective. Do these people have no loyalty at all? B-but this can't be left standing. Tell Rochefort to return. And find someone to look for Loriot. Some physician can't be hard to find, can it?"

 

Her guest however merely shook her head. "I'm not your servant. I'll see what can be done, but I think, you should not start terrorising our own ranks. The few left won't stay just to be the ones to suffer. Get some rest, calm down and clear your head some, ok?" While Pétèvellier tried to calm Hazelwood, they just caused further irritation. "I am calm. And I'll better act now, before things get worse."

 

Florence sighed. She had seen enough. Carefully, she took a sugar cube and loaded it on her tea spoon, before launching it at a dumbfounded Hazelwood's forehead. "I think we both know that you aren't well. So, don't do anything rushed."

 

Standing up, she quietly left, leaving behind a near-full cup of bitter tea and a petrified Lady Hazelwood.

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For about a week, Hazelwood would stay at home. What exactly it was she was doing, noone really knew. She had loced all doors, shut the windows, did not answer anyone ringing the door bell. Some wondered if she was still alright, some even wondered whether the Lady Hazelwood had died and noone had realised. On the seventh day, in the hours of dusk, the door suddenly opened and the small figure of Hazelwood peeked outside, before taking a few careful steps towards the street.

 

The streets were empty, devoid of any life, the houses dark, only the dim sky gave some light in the absence of streetlights. And most likely it was for the better this way, as the otherwise rather prim and proper Hazelwood looked quite miserable. Her steps being wobbly and her movements lacking in coordination, she almost seemed like some walking corpse. Her clothing was somewhat more appropriate, though that was about it. Strants of hair were loosely hanging into her face, which was hardly visible, the way her head was hanging.

 

But she did not came far. As Hazelwood had gone maybe about ten metres, she abruptly stopped, fell on her knees and seemed to struggle internally with something, before slowly walking back to her house. The whole episode had not really any witnesses, and people started to grow more worried about the Lady Hazelwood, which had not left her home in over a week, a time where most people at least ran out of food, especially in un-electrified Southern Pasirung.

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Only the faintest bit of light ever pierced the curtains that were drawn close. Hardly anything could be seen in the darkness that was her home. Yet, it did not seem to bother Hazelwood. Light was not necessary anymore, her eyes had accustomed to the faint shadows. She also had stopped minding when she ran against furniture. Whenever she did, she could at least feel a dull pain... a stimulus that showed she was still alive. Unlike master. And unlike the numbness that was the rest of her life.

 

Hazelwood quietly stood there, in the middle of the large room. The darkness surrounded her, a seemingly endless black. Black and white... even though she knew that she could still discern colours, the world, it had lost it. It was strange. Hazelwood knew she lived... she was there... she could perceive... yet she could not... she was not. Despite the objective presence of colours, subjectively, she could no longer perceive them. Nor did she perceive taste, nor actual smell. Bland was the food... any food. nauseous was the smell... any smell. For days, Hazelwood had been wondering, what it was, that was rotting. In the end, it must have been herself. A person without purpose.

 

Master, she was gone. In a world beyond her grasp. The things Master wanted to achieve, they were never realised. But Hazelwood... she had little idea what it actually was her Master had wished for. Nor had she any wishes of her own. And what was this world for? What ambitions could one still hold? What was there worrth achieving. There was no master, for Master was gone. There was no family, for they had left. There were no friends, nor followers... for Hazelwood was alone. There was nothing. Emptily, her eyes stared into the black surroundings, into the hungry abyss, which seemed to be surrounding her entire being.

 

Pétèvellier had most likely seen it... Loriot had. Many had seen it. There was no more purpose. Purpose for those remnants of an age long past. The last thread that had tied them to their past had been severed, it had been put to rest together with the Master. Now, it was up to them, to find an answer. An answer to the question of purpose. On what to do.

 

Hazelwood... she had tried. Tried keeping the old world of hers together. Keep what was left of the legacy that her Master had left behind. But... too rapidly it disintegrated. Without objective, without course, like a living corpse. It all had collapsed. Indeed, this must have been the rotten smell. She was as good as dead anyway. Maybe not physically, but the world... it needed her not. There was no place for a leftover, no place anymore. The lights had gone out, no new lights appeared.

 

But... it was not good enough. Master was still gone, out of reach. Being a living corpse seemingly was not good enough. Hazelwood faintly smiled, showing off for one more time the smile that had marked the end of others before in her career. The canine teeth of a predator. But this... it was over. Calmly, Hazelwood checked her neck, before looking down and kicking away the chair.

 

For a very short moment, she fell, before her breath was cut off by the sudden tightness around her neck. For one last time, she felt her instints kick in, her body struggling for air, struggling to regain this vital ressource. But, it was futile. She herself had made sure of it. As the thoughts started to cloud after several minutes of struggle and her body slackened, out of strength, Hazelwood wondered... Would she now be able to be meeting Master?

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