Old Ms. Hazelnut

DATE OF OCCURANCE: 68AM

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air as Ms. Hazelnut walked down Clemons’s Street, a bustling street full of merchants selling produce, baked goods, meat, you name it. Ms. Hazelnut, often called Hazel, was a regular here on Clemon’s Street. Every Saturday morning, she took a stroll through the shops, catching up with old friends and buying her groceries for the week. Hazel was a frail, older woman with greying hair and wrinkly, golden brown skin. No one knew how old she really was, nor how long she had been visiting Clemon’s Street, but everyone knew her. She was just the sweetest old lady you’d ever meet.

It was a typical Saturday morning, about a week ago, I think. Fall was just starting, and autumn leaves began to litter the ground as the air began to chill slightly. It was a perfect day to take a walk through the town and unwind, which I fully intended to do. I walked into my favorite pastry shop to get something to eat as I walked around. Though, as soon as I entered, I heard shouting.

“It’s distasteful!!! How could you POSSIBLY in good conscience display THIS on the menu??!” I walked in to see that what I assumed was once a line of people now gathered in a crowd around the front counter. I attempted to peer over the heads of other customers as the shouting continued.

“Plus, how could you POSSIBLY wear THAT around your neck?” As I peered over heads, I was able to get a glance of someone pointing at the employee behind the counter. The employee had pinkish blond hair in a bun made to look like a halo of sorts. She was wearing an apron and clip-on angel wings on her back. It also looked as if she was wearing some sort of necklace around her neck, of which the other figure is pointing angrily at. “It’s unsightly, the nasty little thing.” The figure continued. I was able to push a little bit into the crowd and make out the necklace. It was a blue and gold star, the symbol of Moya. As I was able to get a good look at the yelling customer, I immediately understood the whole situation. He was wearing all black. Some kind of black jacket, high black boots, black pants, and slicked-back black hair. Contrasting his black attire was his unrealistically pale skin, most of which was covered in black tattoos representing what I assumed to depict stories and legends about Pitaya. In fact, the only thing he was wearing that wasn’t black were his golden earrings in the shape of a scale, the mark of Pitaya. He continued to yell at the employee.

“This..this is heresy! This is…I don’t know what else this is! But you should be ashamed!” I wasn’t having this. This poor girl was just trying to do her job, and I just wanted my coffee and pastry. This wannabe punk wasn’t going to ruin my perfect day off, the weather was too nice for it. With determination and confidence, I pushed past the crowd and entered the inner circle and said, “Excuse me sir, is there a problem I can help you with?” He turned to me and scowled.

“Tch, who the hell are you?”

“I’m the owner of this fine establishment.” I wasn’t. “I was walking down the street on this beautiful day off, enjoying this fine weather, when I saw a commotion coming from my shop. What seems to be the problem?” The girl behind the counter looked at me with an expression I could only describe as confused relief. Wanting to get out of this situation as badly as possible, she went along with my little scheme.

“Sir, this man started insulting me out of nowhere. I was just doing my job when he started to make a scene, insulting our shop, myself included.”

“Hell yeah! Are you kidding? That outfit deserves to be insulted. I just wanted to enjoy my morning in peace, but she had to come along and ruin it!” The punk guy gestured to the girl behind the counter. I grew more agitated. This poor girl was just trying to do her job.

“Ahem, sir, might I remind you of the name of this establishment. It’s called Divine Pastries. Our employee’s outfits and menu options are all based on the deities respectively and we encourage a safe space where people shouldn’t be afraid to show their true selves or opinions to others.” I had no idea if this was true, but if this girl could wear this outfit at work, then it might’ve been. The punk started to say something, but I cut him off. “Also, might I add, you were the one to willingly walk in here. So please, don’t harass one of my employees over your personal opinions. Safe space, remember?”

“Tch, safe space. Yeah, that pretty much sounds like you Moya-following asses”

“Well, Divine Pastries accepts employees of all religions. If you really want equal representation at our establishment that badly then why not apply for a job? While your customer service could use a good tweaking, you already look the part.” This elicited a chuckle from the crowd. The punk started fuming. Hah, served him right. Just then, I saw him reveal some sort of blade from his jacket pocket. It was a knife, the grip of which fit between two of his fingers, almost like brass knuckles. He stared at me and said, “Don’t fuck with me. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Um…Panocha the Pastry God?” I shouldn’t have said that because right as I did, he started charging at me. But as he did so, he suddenly slowed and came to a stop as he shook his head. I saw him begin wiping his face after a moment. He looked up to me, an expression full of anger and yet he had tears flowing from his face. “What the fuck?!” He yelled as the doors to the shop opened.

“Now now, there’s no need to fight.” The crowd began to part as someone made their way through it and up to the counter with us. It was Ms. Hazelnut. She smiled warmly “Why fight when everything can be settled over a nice glass of tea?”

I sat across from the punk who reluctantly introduced himself as Flogger after Hazel had asked. He glared at me and I glared back. We were sitting at a table outside the pastry shop, the cool wind blowing around us. Ms. Hazelnut had ordered three cups of tea and waited at the counter for it to be ready, telling us to “find a good spot.” Neither of us had said a word to each other after that. We decided to do what she asked and found an open table outside. She walked to the table and sat herself down, placing the cups of tea between us. She took a sip of her tea, which was probably scalding. How did she do that?

“Now then,” she began. “What appears to be the problem?” Flogger scoffed.

“All I wanted was to get some coffee and enjoy my day. But this bozo had to get in my way and ruin it.”

“Hey, looks like we’re in agreement about that.” I said.

“Huh? I thought you said you were just passing by. Don’t you own the place?” Flogger said, confused. I chuckled a little.

“I still can’t believe you fell for that.”

“Oh, I see. You think you can make a fool of me huh?!”

“Not hard when you’ve got a name like that.”

“That’s it!” Flogger pulled out his blade and started reaching across the table. But right as he did so tears started flowing from his eyes again. “Guh! What the fuck, why?! Why is this happening!!” Hazel let out a slight chuckle.

“Emotions are the insight to one’s true self. It appears that even though you put on a tough face, deep down you’re repressing many sensitive memories and emotions.” Hazel said, taking another sip of her tea.

“The hell are you talking about? I don’t have any repressed feelings.”

“Then how do you explain the tears whenever you try to harm or kill this man?” Hazel gestured to Flogger, tears still streaming down his face.

“I… I don’t know man! This is the first time it’s happened alright?”

“Somehow I doubt that. But if you’re so adamant about it I won’t press any further.” The three of us sat in silence for a moment before Flogger went “W- well if all this is is some low budget therapy session I’m out of here!” Flogger stood.

“But you didn’t finish your tea.” Hazel said.

“This tea sucks! It’s not even that good. Besides, I will NOT drink tea that’s based on that malicious witch Moya!”

“Why is this week any different?” Hazel responded.

“W- what?”

“Your choice in tea. Every Saturday you would visit this pastry shop and get tea. I passed by you drinking it almost every week.” Flogger just stood there, unresponsive. Hazel continued. “I haven’t seen you here for a good while, almost a year or so. What happened?” Flogger began to sweat. He looked around anxiously, almost as if he was looking for someone. Then he finally went, “I- I don’t know what you’re going on about lady! You must have me confused for some other guy!” Yeah right. How could someone mistake this guy for someone else when he dresses like that. I didn’t fully understand the situation, and I assumed he was just embarrassed or something, but Hazel seemed to have a better understanding of what might be going on. She leaned towards Flogger.

“Flogger, listen to me. If you can’t talk here that’s fine. Perhaps we could-“

“Sh- shut up!! Both of you!” I wasn’t talking, but okay. “How.. how can you act this way! How can you be so calm about death! Don’t either of you fear The Reaper??” I assumed he was talking about Pitaya.

“Um, no not really?” I responded. Hazel didn’t respond to his question. Instead, she stood and gently grabbed him by the arm. “Please. Let me help you.” She said quietly.

“Get the hell away from me!” Flogger pulled his arm away. “You two will pay for your insolence towards The Reaper!” Flogger stormed off. Hazel stared at him with sadness in her eyes. After a moment she turned back to me and went “Sorry about that, dearie. I’m afraid I have some more shopping to do. Enjoy your tea.” Then she walked away. I take a sip of the now lukewarm tea. Man. Flogger was right. It’s not that good.

After that whole incident I was able to get my pastry. I talked and apologised to the employee who was getting harassed by Flogger. She thanked me, and we chatted a bit. Apparently the staff doesn’t actually dress like that. She had just gotten to work after a play she was in and didn’t have time to change. Good thing Flogger didn’t know that.

I tried to enjoy the rest of my day off walking around the park and shopping, but I couldn’t get the thought of Flogger out of my mind. How scared he looked and how sorrowful Hazel looked at him. Did they know each other? Or did she know more about Flogger than she let on? These thoughts plagued me as I walked home. As I did so a figure walked out of a nearby alley and stood before me. I stopped. My breathing quickened as I turned around to walk away. There were three more figures behind me. My heart rate increased and I started to sweat. Who were these guys? Am I getting robbed? All four of them were wearing hooded cloaks. I was about to preemptively reach into my pocket and pull out my money when one of them started to speak. [

“Filo Éclair. You have upset The Reaper and the elite council below her. For your crimes against her and the God of Judgement, your life now rests in their hands.” Wait a second. I knew that voice.

“F…Flogger?” I ask. No response. All four of them pulled out daggers and slowly began to walk towards me. Suddenly, from behind the three cloaked figures in front of me another voice called out.

“Flogger!” All the figures froze. Behind them was an older lady propping herself up with a cane. Ms. Hazelnut. “Flogger please let me help you!” The one who was talking earlier quickly turned towards Ms. Hazelnut.

“N- no.. what are you..” He muttered. Even though his hood shadowed his face, I could see tears falling to the ground. The two figures beside Flogger extended their daggers and began running at Hazel.

“Wait don’t!” Flogger yelled, trying to stop them. As they approached Hazel there was suddenly a burst of blue radiant light. The two figures were blown back as Flogger and I shielded our eyes from the light. As my vision cleared, I saw feathers fluttering down around us. Where Ms. Hazelnut once stoon now floated Moya, the Goddess of Freedom. I stared in awe at the angel-like figure. Ms. Hazelnut? Moya? All this time….was it all just a… As I thought to myself I suddenly felt an arm wrap around my chest and cold steel lick my neck. I had forgotten about the other guy behind me! Well, this is it huh? At least I got to see Moya before I-“

“NO!” Flogger shouted as he threw a blade in my direction. It hit the guy holding me right in the head. He fell, pulling me down with him. I crashed to the ground, hitting my arm pretty bad. Moya flew over to me.

“Are you alright?”

“I…I.” I couldn’t help but stare. She was beautiful. Her wavy bluish blonde hair and pure white dress…I was in awe. Moya helped me off the ground, then turned to Flogger. I came to my senses to see him breathing heavy and still crying. Moya began to float towards him, but he put his hand out.

“Stop! Please… don’t. You..Moya?…Do you realize what you’ve done?” Moya stopped.

“I was… I was just trying to help-“

“It’s not that easy! If you’re…if you’re really Moya, then you of all people should know that!” Moya said nothing. She looked down, almost ashamed. Flogger continued. “What you’ve just done..just started a war.” Flogger ran away as Moya just stared at him. I looked around at the three dead figures that lay around us. Finally, I mustered up the courage to speak. “W..what was all that?” Moya remained silent for a moment, then she muttered “The Chosen are back.”

Filo Éclair

Historical Basis

It is unclear if this event took place. There are no eyewitnesses to Ms. Hazelnut being Moya in disguise, nor do any records of someone named "Flogger" exist.