Tal only slept 4 hours each night since inheriting a cafe that stays open 24/7 in the corner of a forest that Humans dare not to travel to. The only time that they sleep longer – or is away from the cafe – are during full moons. The calendar that hung above the “CAFE BARGOULD” sign on the inside of the shop had full moon nights marked with the entire date on the calendar completely clawed out. A sloppy marker job denoted what month or year it was at any given time, decades of marker staining an otherwise beautifully adorned and custom calendar.

Tal kept up most of the duties within the shop on their own in the morning – opening the store, taking inventory for the day, polishing vials, and wiping up occasional blood and coffee spills from the countertop. By noon, their assistant would come in, and continue to arrange the inter-dimensional booths for the eldritch patrons to comfortably pick up their orders. By 1:00PM, Horne, the first regular of the day (nearly every day), would enter.

Horne was a scraggly creature with no distinguishable appendages from the furry mass of his being, except for the sunken area where one might suppose his eyes and mouth would be. Apart from that, Horne’s most prominent feature was the pair of horns that protruded from the top of his head.

“Tal!” Horne snarled. To some, his voice might sound like nails on a chalkboard, but Tal welcomed the timbre of Horne’s tone much like one holds a hot cup of coffee.

“Large americano, triple shot of espresso!” Tal responded as if it were Horne’s actual name.

Horne sat down, and from the mass of his body emerged a scaly arm with talons for hands. He gingerly held the cup, and brought it to the hairy void that was his body, an audible, though seemingly disembodied sipping noise echoed happily.

“Busy morning this one’s been, T!”

“Oh yeah?”

“So picture it–” Horne repositions himself on the stool directly across from Tal.

“First of all; I’m early. Can you believe it? Early! And I let the bloke know exactly how to avoid the fate I saw in store. I mean, these fellows are quite easy reads; the bumbly, stubborn kinds. To be quite honest, I feel kind of bad sometimes when I talk to them. They don’t need a vision, they need someone to talk to.”

Horne downed the rest of his drink, and stared down at the bottom. Tal knew Horne enough at this point to refill the drink.

“Anyway, there I am, I see his future clear as day. And I says to him, I say: stay inside if you can, and leave the garden be. And above all if you can’t do either, don’t visit the apothecary. Do you know what he says to me? ‘But I have to help run the shop!’ And I’m just wondering at this point why even give me a call, then? You know what you’ll do!”

“But they summon you, don’t they?” Tal inquired, the steam of the espresso swirling into the air and disappearing into Horne’s nebulous form.

“Exactly! It seems a bit drastic to me to reach for my number rather than another Human’s. I can’t help them. I can only give them the truth. You don’t need to summon a Demon for that. But they have it so in their heads that if they ‘make a deal’, then I can grant their wishes.” Horne sighed

“Faelin.” Tal corrected Horne.

“Demons”, “Monsters”, “Cryptids”, and similar names were the words that Humans denoted to the Faelin, the official name for the beings that Human’s find to be beyond their comprehension. Faelin are varied, and it’s hard to say exactly how many there are, or when they first arrived on Earth. Most of the history is lost, and left to spoken stories. If the stories are to be believed, the Faelin have been around for as long as Humans have.

Humans would occasionally encounter Faelin, and to varying degrees of accuracy, be able to record them in their own history books for other Human’s knowledge and entertainment. Ironically, fictitious accounts have been closer to the truth than what is claimed to be backed by any scientific or empirical evidence. The only thing that is known to be true – that the Faelin know of themselves – is that they are outnumbered by Humans, and despite the incredible and unique abilities that they have inherited from the immortal Fae that they appear to be born from, their mortality and small numbers makes places like Cafe Bargould invaluable beacons of safety.

“Yeah, yeah.” Horne replied, taking another sip of his Americano.

“Honestly, T, you ought to get out there and meet more Humans yourself. You don’t look too different from ‘em, you’d blend right in! Long as you don’t go talking all that Faelin stuff.” Horne began, “As a matter of fact, maybe you’re more Faelin than you look, huh?” he laughed. Horne’s smile and laughter were deep and scraping. The booming yet scratching nature of his voice magnified whenever he laughed, and caused the entire Cafe to shake in response.

Tal ignored the remark, and instead turned to make a latte.

Horne’s ability to see visions he used to make ‘pacts’ with Humans was not something he had the ability to turn off, but rather only suppress. While it made him exceptional at his “job”, it meant that he naturally attuned to knowing the insecurities of others, and with that came the occasional off-handed and deeply cutting joke.

Tal normally appears as Humans do, but is to herself, and to the patrons of the Cafe, fully Faelin. This is most helpful when she needs to go into town to collect supplies or equipment for the cafe, but it is often a point of insecurity for herself. On full moons, she indulges her transformation. “If only I could do this at will–if only this could be all of the time.” Tal would imagine, going about her night on full moons indulging the ability to feel as Faelin as she knows that she is.

“Maybe I'll take a vacation one of these days and travel.” Tal responded, staring into the metal of the espresso machine to look at Horne. A joke between Tal and Horne; a big reason why Tal inherited the cafe was her ability to be among Humans as needed to upkeep the centuries old cafe.

“Yeah, maybe.” Horne replied, “Humans look at me and just see what their stories say. You can go to a shop! In daylight! Imagine…”

Horne thought.

Tal ignored Horne's remarks, placing a drink on the “PICK-UP” end of the counter. Tal’s assistant and only employee looked at the clock on the wall, and like clockwork, situated themself underneath a more metal fixture that looks as though it came from the gilded age.

“Who’d run this place, you?” Tal asked, checking her watch expectantly.

“True enough.” Horne smiled.

“I’ve got a frappuccino for Dark Envoy, Shadowy Eminence of Dreams and Nightmares!” Tal called out.

The ground of the building shook, and signage that had been clearly bolted down began to rumble. The impossibly large cafe interior, and its cavernous length breathed and rumbled. Areas that had been fixed or re-upholstered countless times for centuries cracked and shook, and a fog emerged within the cafe. Within the fog, two glowing eyes appeared, materializing as if the fog itself had been the being’s body. A long, sinewy arm slithered from the thickest parts of the fog, and slithered along the ground like a cobra, before meeting the Frappuccino that Tal had placed at the “PICK-UP” end of the table. In a flash, the fog had lifted, and the eyes and arm were gone. The only evidence of another being having been there was the colder temperature, the cracks along the cafe, and a bizarre trail of cobweb and condensation that ran along the path the sinewy arm had traveled.

Tal sighed, reached over to a corner to grab a mop, and tossed it to her assistant, who immediately began to clean up.

“Every time.” Tal muttered.

Just as the cafe began to settle, a second, smaller shaking erupted, but this time coming from outside of the cafe. The sound of horses stampeding, and chatter getting closer towards the cafe. Nearly simultaneously, a bat crashed through the window of one of the stained glass windows of the cafe, and footsteps from where the bat crash landed became audible as an unknown and cloaked individual ran to hide into the cafe’s utility closet.

Tal looked to Horne, then the assistant, and they went towards the direction of the utility closet, whereas Tal stepped outside to speak with the Humans riding towards the cafe.

Outside, there were significantly less Humans than Tal feared; 4 on horseback, with only one in more polished, and pristine armament. Tal directed her attention to this individual.

“Octavia Tallon?” the man asked pointedly, though it was spoken more like a command.

“Are you asking me for my name, or is that who you’ve sent for?” Tal responded, her question also not sounding quite like a question.

“There have been reports of an individual seen exclusively going out at night, visiting inns, bars, cafes, the like. Abnormally tall, and other strange reports–”

“And they were last seen here?” Tal asked.

“Well, no. We understand that you live alone.” the man responded, the patient professionalism of his voice growing thin.

“I do. I’m sorry to say that I haven’t seen anybody of that description, but I do hope that you find them.” Tal responded.

The man speaking with Tal began to say more, but a crack deeper in the woods cut him off. This prompted them all to look at one another, before giving each other a confirming nod.

“Stay safe, Ms. Tallon.” the man said, the pleasantries of professionalism prompting the end of the interaction.

“Thank you.” Tal responded.

As the men rode off, Tal turned back around to enter the cafe. On the outside, it looked like an unimpressive and small shack. It was completely innocuous. The most bizarre thing about it was that there was anyone of residence inside, especially as the nearby town speaks rumors of there being unexplained happenings in “that side of the woods”. The rumors keep humans from traveling far enough to the cafe. Unfortunately, they also breed suspicion of Tal, labeling her all the things one might label a Human outsider.

“A new patron?” Tal asks Horne, who along with the assistant, stands outside of the utility closet door, still shut.

“They won’t say. No clue who this is. Were you expecting anyone new?” Horne asks.

“No.” Tal responds.

“You don’t seem fond of Humans, either. You’ll be safe here, but you can stay there for as long as you like.” Tal called out towards the utility closet, waving Horne, her assistant, and a few other evening patrons who had shuffled in to go back to their seats.

Tal picks up a broom, and hands it to her assistant.

“Could you clean that up, please? I’ve got to prepare a drink for our new friend.” Tal says, walking back over to the counter, and getting ready for the night shift.