The Blood of Amietta

III. The Owner of the Pub

"What can I getcha?"

I jump in my seat a little and turn towards the bartender. She's a short woman– I'm taller than her even while sitting on a barstool. Her light brown hair is tied up on the top of her head, and a twinkle of something shines in her eyes for a moment. Understanding? Sympathy? I can't tell.

"I'll have a beer," I say. "Something dark."

She nods, and with the practiced grace of someone who has done this a thousand times, she grabs a bottle from under the bar and swiftly removes the cap.

She sets it in front of me. I don't hesitate for a second, grabbing the bottle and taking a long swig. Not bad.

"Thanks," I say. "Are you Arabelle?"

She nods, "That's me. And you are?"

"Mila," I reach out a hand and we shake.

She grabs a rag and idly begins wiping down the bar. "You just get here today?"

"Yeah," I chuckle. "That obvious?"

She waves a dismissive hand. "Oh, we all know each other's faces around here, so it's not really your fault."

I sit in silence for a moment while I sip my beer and Arabelle serves a couple of other customers at the bar.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask when she returns.

"Go ahead."

"Are people really okay with being trapped here?"

While sitting here it has dawned on me that not everyone in the bar is drowning their miseries. Rather, many of them are having a good time, letting their lives pass by normally. Well as normal as they can, I guess.

Arabelle smiles softly. "Most people come to terms with it," she replies. "It takes some longer than others, but..."

She trails off, but I get the gist of it. Is it really that easy? Just accepting things for the way they are?

I couldn't possibly do that. It's like accepting defeat without even trying.

"The mayor is a little...odd," I comment after a moment.

The bar owner chuckles. "A bit," she admits. "I suppose Noelani hasn't fully adapted to this world."

"Like you have?" I ask, catching her off guard.

I've suspected that Arabelle isn't from Tsulona since the moment I read her name on the sign out front. Watching her mannerisms for the past half an hour has only cemented the thought. Arabelle seems more adjusted to Moonwake than Noelani, but the nasal twinge to some of her vowels matches the mayor's accent perfectly.

She stares at me in shock for a moment and clears her throat. "You're pretty observant," she comments. "Yeah, I'm from Armenta, but I don't remember much," she admits. "Everyone else is from Tsulona, though. Somehow the hitchstone moved worlds."

I feel my brows furrow. "I thought the memory loss was temporary?"

"It is for most," she says. "Unless you have the knowledge to break the seal." She wrinkles her nose. "It's like the hitchstone's weird defense mechanism or something. I don't know, magic isn't exactly my specialty."

I take a long sip of my beer, processing her words. "But Noelani seems to remember everything," I state.

Arabelle nods. "Noelani's magic is...different. More powerful. She has the ability to read people's memories, so I guess it makes sense that the hitchstone can't affect her."

I frown. Or she's stealing everyone's memories and blaming it on the hitchstone.

A few customers walk in and Arabelle makes quick work of greeting them and grabbing a few drink menus. I sit alone with my beer as I ponder the strange town of Moonwake.