Calcedny and youWhere:
9th, early morningStyle:
[A boy clad in armor (sans the wings and sword) prowls the plaza. His hair is slightly damp, dried from his initial plunge, and he holds a towel in his left hand. He wanders aimlessly about the Lamufao, eyes searching with pursed lips. He checks every nook and cranny, eventually returning to visited spots for a second, third, fourth attempt, all of which clearly prove fruitless.
A native strides up and plants a calendar in Calcedny's hands. He studies the calendar, bemused.
Wait, this isn't—
[With a toothy grin and a boisterous "you're welcome," the native leaves.
Calcedny straightens, then exhales deeply through his nose. His shoulders are squared, tense. Though he takes cares not to disturb the passersby, his frustration is obvious, underlined by a scowl as he looks around for the umpteenth time.
Where is it?