Day 3 of Winter, AV 511 The Enclave |
It was hard for Enric to stop working, making money, earning food, and make a living just so he could take that spare time, and donate it to something that felt so foreign, so unnatural, so beyond his grasp that it was little more than a dreamlike outcome for him. Yet, the outcome wasn't even for him, and that's why he was able to do this at all. It was for Loralynn, his daughter. Well, sort of his daughter. Actually, she wasn't immediate family of him, nor extended. Sure, somewhere along they line they were distant distant cousins, but her parents are unknown to her, and Enric had no children. It was a strange bonding, yet she latched to him for comfort, protection, and survival, and he to her because she reminded him so much of who he was when he was her age. And that's why they were here now, at the Enclave. Because he knew how he turned out from his neglected knowledge at such a young age, he turned out low class, a tanner, foul job. He wanted to rescue Loralynn from what he was forced into, and where he now remained. "Se-seme-lie? Sesemelie... Sesemelie." Loralynn stuttered as she struggled to form words from the book, the Library's book. The cute freckle-infested girl sitting in the wooden chair, her legs swinging back and forth only an inch from the floor. Enric stood abover her, hunched over with his finger pressed violently into the pages. He was never taught to read as a child, not well at least. The most of what he knew, he learned himself (poetry as a passion and hobby had some advantages). "It says, Semele. Sem-el-ee." Loralynn stared at the word for a minute or two, her lower lip was sucked in over her teeth, a clear sign she was either concentrating intently, or she bloodied her lip and was desperately licking it clean. "Sm... Smiley. What's a smiley Enric?" Enric's teeth instinctively clenched behind his closed lips as he smiled. He knew it wasn't Loralynn's fault for not pronouncing it correctly, but it was so frustrating for him to teach whenever he knew absolutely nothing about teaching at all, and he was attempting to teach something he himself was less that exceptional with. "A smiley? That's how you get when you get tickled. You smile a lot, you get smiley." Enric demonstrated by prodding the little girl in the side, which provoked a series of giggles and squirms. "But, Semele is a goddess that we trust to keep us safe. That's why we do many things in her name, so she is happy with us. I've heard that she is so beautiful and actually shines when you see her." Enric chuckled lightly as he once again pointed to the word on the page, Semele, the name of the goddess of the earth and stones. "Let's try it again, in little parts. Say it like I do. Se. Mel. Ee. Semele." This little struggle would go on for a long time, several seasons to be exact, and today was just one of many little grains of sand that would eventually, hopefully, form some sturdy structure. Yet, today would be one of the lesser productive days. Enric lifted his gaze from the pages as his attention was provoked (either by voice or uncanny intuition) and fell on someone he knew. At one point, they were close, dear friends, and happened to be separated at some point within their formal education. That's when Enric was given to the apprenticeship of tanners and leatherworkers, and only the gods knew where she went. In Semele's name... I know you." Enric whispered to himself as he stared for a long moment, Loralynn shifted gazes between the two faces, though she obviously had no recollection of the woman. |
