Library Time

After the training session, Seja showed us to the library. There, Elana wanted to start teaching me the language of the locals. It was too bad that her ability to understand any human language didn’t come with actual knowledge about grammar. While it provided her the intuitive proficiency of a native speaker, it was also the proficiency of someone who never graduated beyond elementary school. With the aid of Seja, we hoped to achieve some basic insight. Not only to figure out a learning schedule for me, but also to achieve a better understanding of this world.

The dust was blown from the giant book which’s leather binding was worn down by time. It was heavy, grainy dust that you didn’t want to breath in. For what ever reason unsurprisingly, Seja blew it directly into my face. I had to sneeze several times before my nose finally decided to cease the rampage.

Seja immediately apologized for her carelessness and bowed her head. She stretched out her hands offering me her handkerchief.

“Thank you!” I happily snatched it from her.

She understood and relaxed.

Having nothing to clean my nose would mean my eventual demise. I was sure of it. There were only four things you needed to have at home at days when shops are closed: Food, something to drink, chocolate and tissue. Using toilet paper (untouched by dirty hands of course) was the last resort, but as it was rough, using too much of it hurt the nose. By the way… “Elana, do they have proper toilets here?”

“Yes, they have.”

“Thank the heavens…”

“My words.”

We burst out laughing.

Seja placed the grimoire on a table. “What are you talking about?”

Elan whipped tears from her eyes. “Nothing.” The toll of seven days of serious business and paranoid nights in a foreign place was lifted from her spirit. She added in our language: “They got proper sanitation too. Seems like we’re not going to die from infection.”

I dropped into one of the padded chairs. Let’s hope that our vaccinations do their job even on otherworldly germs… I kept this thought to myself, for the answer to this hope was this: Unlikely.

Wait… “Li…uhm, Elana, is your arm really alright? What if, I mean…” I felt unwell.

“It wouldn’t be healing if it didn’t take care of infections, right?” For her own mental health, she had no choice but to firmly believe that, to know it. “You wouldn’t succumb to this place anyway.”

She was right. I would come back to life even if some illness got me.

“Goddamn it! Am I immortal?”

“Just don’t forget that we are not.”

And those guys wanted them to fight a war…

Seja pulled a seat to the table and sat down, but only after flattening out her dress first. “So”, she began, “this should cover the basic vocabulary and letters, as well general foundations in grammar, polite speech and cultural background”, translated by Elana. Our teacher opened the first page, which was filled with lines over lines of indeciverable, eldritch runes. “It is mono language, made to aid both elementary teachers in lesson planning, as well as the lot of you, who won’t be helped by having to learn another language first. In fact, there have been more otherworlders beside you in the past centuries. Well, you could not learn any language of our world if you had to know one first.”

“How would it work without my ability?”

“Depends. It may not take you ten years to become truly fluent, but thirty. The two of you may handle it in six.” She looked at the boys in the room.

The candle lit our faces in a fleeting red.

Her gazes shifted to Elana. “You may need nine.”

She lost her reservedness for a while.

The first lesson took up the whole afternoon. Seja made me write – or should I say, draw – the same letters over and over again. Once, a gust of wind blew threw the window and made Elana shiver, as well the pages flip wildly. Seja’s gemstone hair rustled like a wind chime. She stroke it from her face, uncovering a tiny skar on her left temple. We were going to attend her lesson day for day, for many days.