Fear of the unknown

Clad in the blue gown, Arabella returned to the tavern's main room, her transformation startling yet seamless. She resumed her place on the stool, reaching for her untouched glass of high-quality brew with a calm, composed demeanor.

Seated nearby, the trio of men continued their spirited conversation, their voices carrying across the room like waves on the sea.

"Did you know it's illegal to move to the South?" queried the far-end man, taking a sip of his own beverage.

"Illegal?" The young man next to Arabella wearing a black todor bonnet echoed, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "Why is that? What's to be found in the South that's so forbidden?"

"I can't say for sure," the far-end man admitted with a shrug, "but those who've dared to venture there have met with a grisly fate at the hands of the demons, so it's best to stay away."

The man in the middle chuckled, his expression bemused. "You and your yarns, they always keep us on our toes." His hand flapped lazily through the air, dismissing his companion's fantastical account.

"I assure you, these are truths I speak," the far-end man declared, his eyes dancing with the thrill of recounting his adventure. "It's a well-known fact amongst travelers, if not those rooted to one place."

"Surely you jest," the man in the middle replied, his tone dripped with skepticism.

The trio exchanged amused glances, their laughter punctuating the conversation as Arabella sat silently, her mind ticking with possibilities.

"Where on earth did you hear that?" the man in the middle inquired, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Are you sure this isn't just one of your made up stories?"

"I assure you, it's no mere tale," the far-end man insisted, his expression deadly serious. "As a trader, I've traveled far and wide, and this is what I heard when selling my wheat in Central's main town."

"Speaking of Central's main town, how is business there with the demons allover the place?" The young man near Arabella chimed in, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Terrible," the far-end man replied, shaking his head. "There are few buyers, most people too scared to venture into the town, with all those demons wandering the streets. It's a shame, really."

"It's not all bad," interjected the man in the middle, his eyes alight with a glint of pride.

"Indeed, we're lucky that our small town has been spared from the demons," he continued, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Though we may have few resources here, in times like these, I'd rather be here than in the midst of danger."

"That's true," agreed the far-end man, taking a sip of his drink. "But it's not just Central that's occupied by these demons. I've traveled to the West, and the situation there is just as dire."

"The only place that's different is the East," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if afraid of sharing too much. "But when I ventured there, I found nothing but desolation and emptiness. Not a soul, not even a demon, to be found."

"So the East is a ghost town, then?" the man in the middle inquired, a hint of skepticism still lingering in his tone.

"Yes, and I wasted precious time and energy searching for signs of life," the far-end man sighed, his frustration evident in his voice.

"Ooh, my goods are going bad!" he exclaimed, his voice rising in volume. "I should have stayed here in our little town, where business may be slow but at least it's safe."

"Are you sure you explored the entire East?" the young man asked, his brow furrowed with skepticism. "There must be at least a few demons lurking in the shadows. I find it hard to believe that an entire region could be completely devoid of life."

"I can't say with certainty that I covered every inch," the far-end man replied, his expression hardening. "But from what I saw, the East appeared to be completely barren."

The man in the middle let out a derisive chuckle, his lips curving into a skeptical smirk. "That makes your entire story unreliable, my friend. How can we trust your account if you haven't even fully explored the region yourself?"

The far-end man shrugged nonchalantly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a wry smile. "It's not my problem if you don't believe me. I'm merely sharing what I saw, whether you accept it or not."

He lifted his glass to his lips, draining the last dregs of his drink in a single, fluid motion. Standing, he glanced at his companions, his expression a mix of defiance and amusement. "My wife will be worried if I'm late. It's time for me to go."

Without another word, he turned and strode towards the tavern's door, the man in the middle scurrying to catch up, his face a mask of anxious worry.

"Wait for me!" he cried, his voice rising in pitch, his eyes darting about nervously.

"The night is full of shadows," he muttered under his breath, quickening his step to match the pace of his departing companion. "I'd rather not be left alone with my thoughts tonight."

The far-end man, now standing in the tavern's doorway, turned to regard the young man still seated within, his gaze cool and calculating. "My advice to you, young one, is to find yourself a wife," he called out, his voice loud and booming in the hushed silence. "There are plenty of fish in the sea."

With those final words, the men disappeared into the night, the sound of their footsteps fading away into the darkness. The young man remained seated at the bar, staring into his glass, his mind churning with thoughts and possibilities. And Arabella, observing it all, could feel the first tendrils of a plan begin to take shape within her mind.