3 Ymiden, 717
Cal’nist had gotten extremely tired of not being understood and not understanding most of what was said around him. It was difficult, almost impossible, to make a living without being able to communicate. It was humiliating, frankly. He wasn't an idiot -- far from it, he hoped -- and so every time he saw someone give him a pitying or contemptuous look, he seethed inside. Of course, he understood where they were coming from, but it didn't give them the right to belittle him or act superior. If they were in Desinid, Cal’nist would treat people with the utmost respect. But the outside world wasn't quite as kind to strangers as the Sev’ryn were, and he'd learn that a long time ago.Still, it had been long enough, and he was sick enough of the ridicule that he'd decided to make a concerted effort to at least learn enough Common to get by. Still, it was almost impossible for him to learn the language on his own, so he'd set out to see if there was a teacher of some sort or some place that would have the knowledge he required. After making inquiries among individuals more familiar with Ne’haer, he'd finally hit the jackpot. Apparently Ne’haer had a library, a depository of books, that was actually open to the public. It seemed extravagant, but Cal’nist was grateful for it. Even if it didn't have exactly what he needed, he would bet that whoever was in charge of such a place would know who else in the city might be able to help him.
Unfortunately, he was quite lost. Ne’haer might be a beautiful city, although nothing in Cal’nist’s mind could ever compare to the wonder of Desinid in his mind. Still, there was something rather awe inspiring about the white stones, especially as they sparkled in the direct sunlight. Still, the whole effect could be rather disorienting, especially when they dazzled his eyes and all started to blur together and look the same. After he wandered aimlessly, trying to find the exact location of the library, he realized that he was going to have to do something he dreaded: ask for directions. Although asking for help nearly paralyzed him with fear, both because of the language barrier and because the idea of talking to people in general made Cal’nist want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world. Still, there wasn't much choice at this current moment in time. Scanning the faces of the passerby, Cal’nist decided to stop an elderly looking man on the assumption that he would look more kindly, based off the smile lines on his face.
Walking towards the gentlemen, Cal’nist cleared his throat, at which the older man turned around. ”Excuse me,” he began haltingly, ”Where li-brair-ee?” sounding out the syllables in the word. Cal’nist could hear his heart beat faster and faster, and he hoped his cheeks weren't red with mortification.
Thank Moseke, the man didn't seem to mind the interruption. ”Just around the corner, son,” the old man replied jovially, accompanying his directions with a hand gesture.
Cal’nist breathed a sigh of relief. ”Thank you! the Sev’ryn exclaimed, and the older man inclined his head to accept Cal’nist’s appreciation. Cal’nist made a note to remember the old man’s face, in case they ever encountered each other again and the Sev’ryn was in a position to return the favor. Breaking into a jog, despite the punishing heat and the unrelenting sun overhead, Cal’nist rounded the corner, and right there, in all its glory was a building with a sign that had a book on it. Cal’nist sighed in relief. He had no idea what the words were written on the sign, but apparently this was a common enough problem that the library managed to find a way to identify itself clearly. Of course, it could have been some other building that had something to do with books, but that was unlikely. Even if it was, Cal’nist could, probably find what he was looking for in there.
