Found:
Still nothing.
I'm not even halfway through all the books in this library yet. There's still a chance that I might find something, anything, concerning these so-called River-maidens. I'm not holding out much hope, of course, but as the resources here are not yet exhausted, so too does my drive to keep searching remain.
Ryheric dropped by twice. The first time, we began his reading and writing lessons. I hadn't thought much about his request for me to teach him initially. The nature of the man, and the time investment involved in such an undertaking suggested that he might not be too serious and, as such, I took it with a pinch of salt. However, he showed me a piece of paper upon which he had painstakingly copied some of the letters he had seen in missives sent to him. They weren't all there and certainly not in alphabetical order, but that he had tried at all was something to praise. It would seem that he really does have a will to learn, which should make this more pleasant for both of us.
I am not a tutor, though I have served that role a few times before. Willing students make for the easiest experience, even if the subject may not come naturally to them. We made it as far as the letter "F", which is a good start. Once he is more comfortable remembering the symbols, their names and how best to form them, we will move on to the next set of five.
After he left, I returned to my research. I'd not expected the man to return. He has his own business to attend to alongside the others, things in which I have no interest or desire to be included. Had I been considering anything other than the task in hand, I might have expected him to spend the rest of the day with the others. Bonding with your traveling companions is important after all, so him spending his days drinking and talking with them is to their mutual benefit.
I was surprised, then, to find that he was sitting in front of me, staring, when I looked up from the books. Again, his distraction was a welcome one. I'd likely have stayed there all night and not noticed my own weariness had he not appeared.
We spoke at length. Little truths for the most part but ones that matter nonetheless. A few of his admissions were unexpected and, at times, a little confusing. It's not always easy to follow his thoughts; they wind and come back on themselves several times, but I find they make sense come the end.
He is starting to form attachments to the girls. This is good, I think. He is hesitant still, he has his doubts, but that's to be expected. I'm not sure how much faith he places in the notion of meaningful friendship, but perhaps, in time, he may come to realise the same as I did... albeit a decade earlier than I.
He has a head start, thus better prospects in the long-run. For his sake, I hope that he leans into this rather than run away.
I think, perhaps, the most surprising admission is that he seems to have begun forming some attachment to me as well. He's happy to see me. He dislikes the idea of my demise or disappearance. Odd. Appreciated, but odd all the same. I'm not entirely certain what to think about this.
I like him, of course. I enjoy his company, appreciate his insightful nature. I take great delight in the push and pull, the playful battle of wills we seem to have fallen into. Likewise, I enjoy the company of the girls but... they don't know me and probably never will. He knows me better but even then...
I am an outsider. I always have been and always will be. It's just my nature, I suppose. I can pretend all I like, fool others into thinking me a part of their circle, but I know otherwise. I'm comfortable with that. I'm happy with who and what I am.
So, why wasn't I lying when I said I'd miss the man if I were to never see him again? Why do I believe him when he says he doesn't want me to vanish? Why should either of these things matter?
I like it, though, watching them all slowly come together into something more cohesive.
