Curious Blue

"So they believed that, somewhere beyond the stars, other life may exist!"

One thing led to another, and now I'm listening to an Earth otaku ramble on about the truths he has pieced together from writings of His memories.
Yes, this Landark guy isn't old enough to actually have any memories of Earth, but he seems to have fallen for a fantasy described by a teacher at his university—a teacher who was named Arthright Crom.

"It'd be foolish to ever venture beyond the sky, of course. Where would one even begin?"

He chuckles to himself in a snobbish tone. The rest of the room laughs in kind.
I'm learning about Earth from a guy who has heard some other guy redescribe His memories. Keeping in mind, He clearly didn't come from the modern day, even if the memories were perfectly conveyed, their knowledge within would be out of date by a hundred years at the minimum.
Wait, isn't this the perfect opportunity to learn which time period He came from?
I raise my hand before really thinking about how to even ask this without sounding odd...

"Yes, my friend. What question plagues your mind?"
"Uh, so... Time works differently on Earth, right? How did they write dates and stuff?"
"Oh! A fascinating topic! It's really the most curious thing!"

I wish he'd just give me an immediate answer... but I keep a smile on my face and pretend to care.

"At the time He walked the Earth, their way of telling the dates had changed many a time. From one calendar to another!"

A bungled story begins about the Roman Empire. I quickly stop paying attention when I realise I'm not getting the answer I was hoping for, and then, when his story concludes, he looks to me with an expectant smile.

"A wonderful story, is it not?"
"So how many years were there?"
"Oh ho ho, I like someone who's eager to learn. Pay attention, everyone; you can always tell how interested someone is in what you have to say by how many questions they ask!"

...Sorry, I wasn't interested in your storytelling at all. I hope no one in the audience believes his advice.

"Well, an exact number is hard to pinpoint because... Time! Time is always changing!"
"So...?"
"He lived somewhere within the 1800s, if I do so recall. It was a time of much change, much advancement. Sometimes I believe they chased progress as a way of... keeping up with the spin of the Earth!"

Please don't turn this into a poetry recital... I quickly zone out before his poeticisms get beyond "anima mundi's march towards tomorrow is-".
Frankly, I'm not sure I can trust anything he says, but "1800s" is a vast enough period of time to be believable. He probably came from the latter half of the period, if I had to guess; the terminology Larila's universal language uses isn't a world away from the modern day, but they clearly don't know about rocket ships or mobile phones.

So... for the sake of easy mental math, let's just say he came from 1880. He arrived here, then finally returned home 50 years ago. So if time here is equal to time on Earth, he would've gotten back to Earth in the 1970s. Oh god, that's 90 years! That's an entire life! He came here as an adult, right? Did he age while he was here or what?
Okay, maybe time is different between worlds. That'd make sense anyway—they're different planets and all. If I get the opportunity, I should try finding the earliest report of His existence in Larila. If he were here for 90 years, then... I guess I'm on the right track. If not, then... I'll find out how time works when I get back home, maybe. The more I think about it, the more confused I get, so I'm just going to stop.
Wait, I should write some of this time. Where's my notebook? ...Aha, there it is! Okay, 1880, 1970, 90 years...

"What a blessed day it is to see someone taking notes during one of my talks! You should know—and this may be hard to believe—but this is the first time I've witnessed such studious behaviour. Perhaps we have a young Soonsiter on our hands?"

I put on a smile, feeling a bit awkward at all the attention I'm getting. The weirdo quickly flies off into another epic tale of Earth's fantastical reality.
At least I learned something. It's questionable, but I'll take an estimate within the 1800s over nothing.

◇ ◇ ◇

After what feels like an hour, I'm freed from the hell of Lankard's "discussions". He ushers us out of the room dramatically, peddling his newest book, 'Curious Blue', all the while.
I take a look at the cover, because... why not? It reads: "Fascinating facts that feel yet as fiction. Oh wonderous Earth!"
...awful subtitle.

"Interested? Well, as you're such a dedicated reader, I wouldn't mind signing a copy!"

With a smile, I begrudgingly buy a copy. I'm mostly paying to get him to leave me alone at this point.
Drained from this whole experience (or maybe I'm still tired from being on guard during the drive into Yve), I drag myself out of the place... but of course, as soon as I let my guard down, the thing I was worrying about happens: suspicion from locals.

"Excuse me, you. Boy. Have we met?"
"Umm... No, I don't think so."
"And yet, I make it a habit to approach each member on their welcoming day. So why, I ask, have we not met?"
"Maybe I didn't stand out enough? I'm nowhere near as lovely looking as the young lady who just left."
"Quite. However, I-"

I tried to come up with a plausible excuse that'd... suit her standards, but I'm clearly not very good at this. But in swoops a saviour.

"Anambert, dear. Do you hold issue with this young man?"
"Mr. Phlark! Is your talk already done? I'd expect a man of your kind to continue at least an hour beyond what is permitted."
"It seems that you aren't quite as familiar with your surrounding peoples as you might believe. Isn't that right?"

Lankard looks at me for confirmation. Nope, sorry, I'm not getting involved in this. Don't tag me in right now.

"I merely ask for the young boy's identity. Is that so wrong?"
"I take issue with your attitude, my lady."
"How is one to know how to act in the presence of he with unknown status?"
"My dear readers deserve the utmost respect regardless of their status."
"Your dear readers are buffoons."

Before the conversation can devolve into whatever constitutes a fight in this kind of place, I remember the ring Ms. Tsa gave me. I hold up my hand and, trusting that I understood Ms. Tsa's words correctly, introduce my "self".

"I'm very sorry. I'm Hildna, a diplomat."

To this, there's a pause. Uh oh, did I misjudge things?
Lankard looks stunned. No, he looks... overjoyed? "Witness this, Anambert. My lovely reader Hildna here is beholden by the princess. You would question that?"
She glares at him before turning to me with a forced smile. "I'm very sorry for this, young sir."
"No no", I try to put an end to this before it can blow up again. "I should've introduced myself with more presence."
The woman makes some sort of formal parting gesture (I'm pretty sure that's what it was) before making a quick exit. Lankard, on the other hand, looks offended.

"Why shake blame for that foolish woman's misjudgement?"
"I'm tired. I just want to go to bed."
"Hmm... Pyrrhic yet tactical. I understand."

How the hell does "pyrrhic" describe that decision? This guy's either crazy or he's plainly dumb and confident.
Well, he did try to defend me. He wasn't very good at it, but it gave me time to scramble to my own defence...
Nah, I just want to go to bed.

"Sorry, I'm done. Thanks for the help, bye."

With that disrespectful (for the establishment) exit, I bid him adieu. Behind me, Philio Lankard looks on in wonder.
Unknown to I, this thought filled his mind:

"To think somebody could embody an Earthling's flippant want for time with such ease!"

Unknown to Lankard, he looked upon an Earthling.