Chapter Forty-Seven: Time (Patreon)

Looking up at the sky, I try to estimate the time. Having paid close attention to my Energy gain by absorption over the last few days, I’ve concluded that there must be between twenty-seven and twenty-nine hours per day. Settling on twenty-eight as the average – and also easily divisible – number, I decide on a clock face with fourteen hours on it.

Based on the idea that the zenith of the sun is at fourteen o’clock pm, and therefore midnight is fourteen o’clock am, I estimate that the sun usually rises around five or six in the morning, and sets between nine and ten in the evening. That makes a day length of between seventeen and nineteen hours, and a night of between nine and eleven hours. Hah, no wonder I’m feeling well-rested at night, but just as equally completely exhausted by the end of the day. Even if we assume it’s the shorter end of the scale, and I’m not convinced it is, I’m active for seventeen hours. And not just mentally active, but intensely physically active as well.

Sure, I’ve worked long hours at work as well, but rarely more than fourteen hours in a day, so seventeen is a bit of a jump, especially since I’m not just sitting at a computer but often actually in a life-or-death situation. Just as equally, I tend to need about seven hours a night to feel well-rested so the fact that I’m getting at least nine explains why I always wake up naturally with the sun, despite being by nature more of a night owl than an early bird.

Is this even as long as the days get here? I have to wonder if this is spring, summer, or autumn – surely it’s not winter – or indeed if there are seasons here at all. It’s actually a more relevant question than it might first appear: if winter is coming, I need to prepare for it. Actually…

I stand up and walk over to the cave mouth. Peering in, my eyes adapt slowly to the dim light. It’s a quicker adaption that it used to be, though – I guess I have my increased Constitution to thank for that. Lathani is snuggled into her mother, though she’s moving rhythmically, probably drinking milk. Good: she’s not asleep.

“Kalanthia,” I start softly. She shifts a little, but otherwise doesn’t move.

Yes, Markus Wolfe, she invites after a moment.

“I was wondering...are there seasons here? I mean, changing of day length, temperature, weather…?”

Yes. OK, that’s...informative. I take a moment to think through my next question.

“What are they like? Is the temperature change drastic? Does the weather change dramatically?” Kalanthia huffs lightly.

Outside this valley, the changes are more obvious than inside it: here, we have a protected climate where the main change is day length. However, even that does not change significantly - perhaps the day in the dark season is as short as the night in the bright time. The main change with the weather is that there is significantly more rain. I sense her distaste for the wet, but keep my amusement to myself.

Along with her ‘words’ come the sense of wet moving to dry and back again, the river widening its banks and then narrowing again. The sky over head moves between overcast and clear and the temperature varies between chilly enough to be grateful for fur in the mornings to warm enough that fur is only tolerable in the shade.

“Right, thank you,” I reply, genuinely grateful for the information as well as the impressions sent along with it. Good to know that I don’t need to worry about preparing to be buried under metres of snow, at least. Though, one more question… “So which season are we in now? The bright or the dark? Or an in between one? And how long does each season last?” I lied. Two more questions.

Hmm, we are past the brightest point of the year, but not by long. OK, so in that case, if I say that the summer solstice has a daylight period of eighteen hours and a night period of ten hours, does that mean that the winter solstice has a daylight period of ten hours and a night period of eighteen hours? If so, that’s really not too bad: I’m used to London and its less than eight daylight hours at the darkest, so at least ten is an improvement on that.

As for the length of the seasons, Kalanthia continues, it is hard to approximate in terms that your human mind will comprehend. Perhaps...she flicks her tail thoughtfully. If you consider the cycle to be as long as you are tall, the time since you have been here is the equivalent of your shortest finger. The brightest time and darkest time are equal distances apart, and the temperature is coldest in the short time following the darkest night just as the warmest time is the period directly after the brightest day. The rain comes in the period surrounding the darkest night, perhaps the equivalent of your knee to your foot, though it is not constant, simply annoyingly frequent. The driest time directly precedes the start of the rain.

It’s an interesting way of describing time, but effective enough. I can’t get an exact idea of how long a year is here, but if we approximate that two weeks is the equivalent of around five centimetres, and then divide my height of one hundred and seventy-seven centimetres by that, we get approximately thirty-five times two weeks. Hence, we can estimate the year length to be around seventy weeks.

I suddenly have a thought: I’m supposed to survive in this world for a ‘year’. Which year?

Are they talking about an Earth year of three hundred and sixty-five point two five days? Or a year on this planet of approximately four hundred and ninety days? Actually, even more than that in Earth’s terms considering that the day length here is longer than on Earth. Or, even more panic-inducing, a year on Nicholas’ world which could be significantly longer – or significantly shorter?

I absently thank Kalanthia again for the information, returning outside to chew it over. A sense of fear rises in my chest at the thought of the answer being Nicholas’ world, and of me overestimating how much time I have to earn the Energy. I check my status screen, noticing that I have some messages to investigate. I’ll look at them later. No, nothing on my screen. No countdown, no indication of how long I have to earn the Energy. Nothing.

I close the screen and force myself to breathe. If I don’t know the information, I can’t make plans based on it. I’ll just have to make plans based on what I do know, and try to earn the Energy for my debt as soon as possible without stymieing my progress.

Wait...A thought suddenly strikes. The System stone. Maybe that would have the information I seek? I focus on the knowledge I absorbed from the stone, trying to trigger some sort of latent knowledge about Nicholas’ world. To no avail: no new information comes up to smack me in the face.

Still, I’m not completely disheartened – I worked out a theory about Earth based on circumstantial evidence in the memories I absorbed; it’s possible I can do that again. It’ll take longer than I’d like to spend while the sun is up to do that, though, so I put it off to ruminate in the back of my mind until this evening.

In the meantime, I check out the messages I saw I’ve received. As expected, they’re all about stat gains, though none of them are offering me the point for free, unfortunately.

Two points in Strength...I whistle in appreciation. Still, I suppose all of these make sense. If my theory of day length is right, I’ve probably spent about eight hours in intense physical effort, the length of time improving my muscle endurance, and the repetitive actions themselves improving my muscle power. As for Constitution, I suppose I have been putting my body through the mill today. A muscle twinges to remind me of exactly what I’ve asked of it and I wince.

I pull up my status screen mourning the fact that my Energy toward the next level, which had been almost into the last fifth of the way to level two, has dropped significantly. Still, since I don’t have a Skill to shoot for, the next one being available at level five, I don’t feel too bad. Yes, six more stats to assign would be good, but I’ve just gained three through hard work and an injection of Energy so...

Deciding I’ve sat around for too long and feeling a bit restless with the uncertainty about the length of time I have until my debt becomes due, I get up and head off to collect some firewood.

It would be nice if I can avoid a confrontation today – after all the physical labour, I don’t feel in a good condition to get into a life-death struggle. I decide not to venture too far since I reckon that Kalanthia’s presence is a good deterrent. For sure there are far fewer tracks in the area immediately surrounding the hill. Either she’s hunted enough creatures close to her den to keep others away out of fear of being hunted in turn, or the animals detect a superior predator in the neighbourhood and react to that.

Either way, I take advantage of the zone of tranquility to find firewood with less risk of suddenly being jumped. I still keep my eyes out, though – I’d be stupid not to. The downside of searching in this spot is that I’ve already been through this area a few times so there are fewer sticks and branches available.

By the time the sun is close to the horizon and I’m heading back, I’ve actually succeeded in avoiding being attacked! A miracle. On the downside, I haven’t managed to collect as much firewood as I might have hoped. Still, I’ve made some inroads on the large amount I’m going to need for firing my pottery. A few more trips into the woods, maybe going a bit further, and I should be golden.

The sky is darkening as I climb the slope; I’m glad I didn’t leave it any later to come back. Kalanthia’s lying in the entrance of the cave and Lathani’s playing with a stick nearby.

“How’s the war-wound?” I ask the cub after saying a quick hello to her mother. The baby nunda chirps at me and rubs her head against my knee, having to lean up a bit to reach. She’s clearly not yet capable of communicating like her mother is, but I get the impression that she’s happy to see me. The thought sends warmth through me and I lean down to stroke her head.

Suddenly wondering whether her mother would approve, considering her strong opinions about Taming, I pull my hand back quickly, glancing up at the giant leopard. Kalanthia isn’t looking, her golden eyes instead shut as she rests her head on her paws. Lathani clearly liked the caress, though, as she butts at my head insistently. I hesitate, not sure if I should or not.

Why did you stop, Markus Wolfe? Kalanthia’s rumbling voice speaks into my head, making me jump. Clearly, even though her eyes are closed, she’s still completely aware of her surroundings. Lathani was enjoying that.

So she doesn’t mind. Mentally shrugging, I crouch down to continue scratching at Lathani’s ears and neck, stroking the fur on her head and down her spine to her shoulders. Her fur is far softer than her mother’s. Fluffy, even. The cub half-closes her eyes in contentment and the warmth inside me grows. There’s nothing like giving such simple pleasure to an animal and seeing them enjoy it without any sense of shame or self-consciousness.

But all things come to an end, and I have tasks to do before the night closes in completely.