Rewritten Fates: Alexandria's Tale

The Bistro

I adjusted my apron, glancing around the bistro as the morning light filtered through the pastel curtains. The soft hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes filled the air, creating a comforting rhythm that eased the tension in my shoulders. The whimsical decor, with its pastel blue, pink, and white hues accented by rose gold, felt both surreal and oddly familiar. It was as if I had stepped into a storybook, yet the constant motion of serving customers kept me grounded in reality.

The first few hours of the day were a blur. The line outside had stretched far down the cobblestone street, and now, the bistro was bustling with a curious mix of creatures. Some were familiar in form, like the tall elves with their porcelain-like skin and ethereal grace, while others were entirely new to me.

A customer approached the counter, drawing my attention. He was tall, even by elf standards, with skin that seemed to shimmer faintly under the bistro’s warm lights. His hair was a cascade of silver, and his sharp features gave him the appearance of a marble statue come to life.

"Do you have anything... crimson?" His voice was smooth, like velvet, and his eyes—red as rubies—glinted with a hint of mischief.

I hesitated, my mind racing. "Crimson?"

"Something that tastes... rich," he clarified, the corner of his mouth twitching in a barely suppressed smile.

I thought for a moment before offering, "We have cranberry scones. They’re tart, a bit sweet. Might fit the bill."

He nodded, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "That will do." As he turned to find a seat, I caught myself staring a second too long, captivated by his otherworldly presence.

"Still feeling that fever, Alex?" Pipsqueak’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. They were perched on a stool near the counter, watching me with a grin that hinted at their amusement. Their appearance today was just as whimsical as ever, with their vibrant hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, revealing their pointed ears.

"Just... adjusting," I muttered, returning to the task of preparing orders.

Next in line was a water nymph. She—or rather, it—seemed to be made of liquid, constantly shifting and shimmering. Her hair was like strands of kelp, her eyes pure white, devoid of pupils. The sight was mesmerizing, and for a moment, I lost track of what I was doing.

"Excuse me," the nymph’s voice was soft, like the lapping of waves against the shore. "I’d like to try something... unique."

"We have a lavender-infused lemonade," I suggested, trying to keep my composure. "It’s refreshing and a bit floral."

The nymph nodded, her form rippling gently as she waited. I quickly prepared the drink, handing it over with a smile that I hoped masked my awe.

As the morning wore on, I found myself falling into a rhythm, though my mind constantly buzzed with questions. Who were these creatures? How had I ended up here? And why did it all feel oddly... familiar? My thoughts drifted to the memories I had glimpsed the night before, vague flashes of a life shared with Pipsqueak in this world, yet so different from the life I remembered.

"You're staring again," Pipsqueak teased, handing me a tray of freshly baked scones.

"Sorry," I mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. "Just... taking it all in."

Pipsqueak chuckled, their eyes sparkling with amusement. "You'll get used to it. This is just the start."

Throughout the day, I found myself alternating between serving customers and sneaking glances at Pipsqueak. They were a constant enigma, flitting between flirtatious banter with patrons and casual conversation with me. Their energy was infectious, yet their gender remained a mystery, a detail that my fragmented memories couldn’t clarify.

"Ever figure out where you live?" I asked during a lull in the crowd.

Pipsqueak laughed, shaking their head. "Still stuck on that? I live in the big tree outside your place, silly."

I blinked, trying to process the image of them residing in a literal tree. "Like a Keebler elf?"

Pipsqueak shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across their face. "Something like that."

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of orders, conversations, and stolen moments of contemplation. As evening approached, the bistro gradually emptied, leaving just a few lingering patrons. Pipsqueak decided to take a break, disappearing into the back with a carefree wave.

I busied myself with cleaning up, grateful for the quiet. The last three customers sat in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and occasionally glancing my way. One of them, an elf with striking white hair, caught my eye, offering a gentle smile that sent a flutter through my chest.

Lost in thought, I nearly jumped when I heard a sound from the back. Remembering the trash needed to be taken out, I grabbed the bag and headed toward the rear exit. The back door was propped open, letting in the cool evening air. As I rounded the dumpster, I froze.

Pipsqueak was there, speaking softly with another creature—a succubus, if I wasn’t mistaken. Her skin was a soft blush pink, her features both delicate and striking. I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting to intrude on their private moment.

I threw the trash into the dumpster and hurried back inside, my mind racing. The day's events had been overwhelming enough without this unexpected glimpse into Pipsqueak's personal life. As I returned to the front, I tried to focus on the remaining tasks, pushing away the image of Pipsqueak and the succubus.

The last two patrons left, leaving only the tall elf with white hair. He approached the counter, his smile warm and inviting.

"Thank you for today," he said, his voice smooth and melodic. "The blueberry scone was delightful."

I nodded, managing a smile in return. "I’m glad you enjoyed it."

As he left, Pipsqueak reappeared, adjusting their apron with a sheepish grin. "Ready to close up?"

I nodded, flipping the sign to "Closed" and locking the door. The day had been a whirlwind, but somehow, it felt like I had taken a step closer to understanding this strange new world—and my place within it.