The Remnant ✓

Part 2

She had promised herself she wouldn't go there again, that evening. But somehow, she ended up sitting on the bench after all. It was as if her body did it mechanically, no reason behind her steps, only heart. And when again, she was left sitting alone, throwing the pebbles into the lonely lake, with the full moon glooming above her as if it was laughing; she felt betrayed, almost abandoned. Why? He was only a servant. A no one.

She was rich, and noble, and had nice clothes, and silk sheets. Then why did meeting him mean more to her, than it did to him, when it should've been reversed? Why did he matter so much?

The next day, the same thing happened. She waited, and at the end the only thing to keep her company was the lone moon.

As she was going back into the house, on the third night, she heard a woman weeping. Her head turned to two people, two servant women talking a few feet away. One was in tears, and the other one had an arm around the crying woman. Catherine walked closer, hiding behind a bush, and listening to the women talk.

"He was only a boy. My boy. Why did it have to happen to him?"

"It's not your fault, Magda. It's the sickness, it's gotten to everyone."

"But my poor boy. He had such life. Such promise." A loud sob echoed behind that. And then the woman said something that made Catherine's knees buckle, and head spin. "My poor Mason."

And then everything around her went black.

A few moments later, she opened her eyes to see the two women standing above her.

"Are you okay, miss? Should we call for help? A doctor?" the calm one said, as the other woman still silently sobbed.

"No. No, I'm fine, thank you." She muttered clutching her head. Did that woman say Mason? Her Mason? "What was it you said about a boy being sick? Mason?"

The woman who had been sobbing broke at that, and ran away, leaving behind a trail of tears. Catherine was just left looking at her in shock. She stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress, but it did little difference. Her dress was ruined, but she couldn't care less

.

"You have to excuse Magdalene, her son is on his deathbed. It's the sickness, it's getting to everyone. But her boy was so young. He was better than all of this. Had a lot of potential, he did." The woman kept muttering to herself, shaking her head in despair.

"The last name. What is the boy's last name." Catherine managed to mumble, praying, praying another last name would leave the woman's lips. Any name. Any name would be better than his.

"Turner, miss. Did you know the young lad?"

At that, the world seemed to lose something. All the colors of the rainbow that she had started to see seemed to erase themselves, go back to all the shades of gray she was so used to.

"No, not at all."

By the end of the night, she managed to find out he was in a public hospital in town. But there was no way to save him. Even if she begged her parents to help, even if it cost her, her grace; he would die. No one had survived so far, no matter the money. No matter the power.

After a sleepless night, filled with tears and silent sobs, so that no one else could hear her, she decided to go see him again. One last time. She put on the most common dress she had, and snuck out of the house before dawn broke on the horizon. It would take an hour to walk to town but in the mood she was in, with the reason she was walking, she would walk miles to get to where she was going.

The hospital looked horrible. Women crying everywhere, nurses running around, barely any doctors in sight, people crowded into small rooms. She was sure she would never be able to find him. That she would remain standing there, lost in all the sadness and heart wrenching sobs around her.