Log in

The Calendar of Chane

The year, the months, and the holy days of the Vale.

The Vale keeps a steady year. It runs for exactly three hundred and sixty days: twelve months of thirty days each, gathered into four seasons of ninety. Time is reckoned by the sun and the fixed stars, never by the moon — and because every month is the same length, the counting of days is a simple and dependable thing.

Why the sun and stars, and not the moon

The Vale keeps its time by the sun and the fixed stars. The single moon of Chane is a broken thing, irregular in shape and uncertain in its light, and it holds to no cycle that a farmer or a clerk might count upon. The sun, by contrast, keeps a fixed and faultless course, and the stars stand changeless in their places. From these two dependable lights the peoples of Chane drew their reckoning: the year measured by the sun's long circuit, the seasons by its height and its turning, and the holy days marked against the standing stars.

The years — Concordis and Discordis

Years are numbered from the rebellion against the monarchy, and the Crown Concordia that followed it (Year 0). The years after are reckoned in Concordis; those before, counted backward, in Discordis.

The months themselves are far older than the count. They were set in the Age of Song, exact — each precisely thirty days — because they were patterned upon Celestis and its faultless course; there are twelve, in an order whose first meaning is now lost to time. Some scholars hold that the count of days was broken in the Sundering and only restored long after; what is not disputed is that the modern reckoning was fixed as certain when Crownhold marked its rebellion, and has been kept unbroken since.

The year itself turns at the oldest of the new years — the seam between the last day of Decin and the first of Janvar — a turning far older than any throne or council. The rebellion is remembered separately, on its own day in spring: a day of rebirth, and by long custom an ordinary day rather than one of the great festivals.

The twelve months

Each month is thirty days. The names are old and worn-down forms, descended through long use, and they fall in easy step with the seasons.

MonthSeasonCharacter
JanvarWinterdeep winter; the hard heart of the cold
FevrarWinterlate winter; the first uncertain thaw
MartisWinterwinter's end; the thaw; closes at Evenspring
AvrilSpringspring proper; the green returns
MaianSpringhigh spring; blossom and bloom
JunethSpringspring into the solstice; closes at Midsummer
JulanSummerhigh summer; the long bright days
AugnamSummerlate summer; the heavy heat
SeptenSummersummer's end; the first harvest; closes at Evenfall
OctenAutumnautumn; the main harvest gathered in
NovenAutumnlate autumn; leaf-fall and the first frosts
DecinAutumnearly winter; the year's end; closes at Midwinter (the Turning)

The four seasons

Each season runs ninety days and opens on a festival that falls on the thirtieth of the preceding month — the threshold day shared between one season and the next.

SeasonMonthsOpens on
WinterJanvar · Fevrar · MartisMidwinter (30 Decin)
SpringAvril · Maian · JunethEvenspring (30 Martis)
SummerJulan · Augnam · SeptenMidsummer (30 Juneth)
AutumnOcten · Noven · DecinEvenfall (30 Septen)

Winter straddles the turn of the year, beginning on the Turning at the very close of Decin and carrying on into the new year's first three months, as winter does everywhere.

The week — the tenday

The Vale counts its weeks in tens. Where other peoples might quarter a moon, Chane keeps no moon worth quartering, and so the week answers to the month instead: a tenday of ten days, three to every month, exact and unbroken, the same way the months answer to the sun.

Each of the ten days carries the worn-down name of one of the gods — old forms smoothed by long use, the way the month-names are. They run in a fixed round:

#DayFor
1AundayAdûn — honest labour; the working week opens
2CalsdayCavall — law and lawful order
3OrsdayOrd — making and protection
4OnsdayOvanor — fate, knowledge, the finding of paths
5KuldayKul — wit and cunning
6RvisdayCyrvis — twisted fate and hidden things
7NixdayNikros — strength and storm
8SorndaySalorna — sun and the living green
9NebdayNebular — love
10ValdayVal — beauty and rest; the week's crown

The last two days, Nebday and Valday, are the Highdays — the rest at the tenday's end, what most folk simply call the weekend. Work stills, kin gather, and the round comes again to Aunday.

One day keeps a small trick in it. Rvisday is written with an R that is never sounded: the day is said 'Vizday.' It belongs to Cyrvis, god of cunning and hidden things, and the saying goes that he is well pleased with a day that trips the unwary tongue. To say it right is a small mark of belonging; to stumble over it, a small joke at your own expense.

The holy days

There is an observance at the close of every month — the last day, the thirtieth, is always a little set apart. Four of these are the great festivals, falling on the turns between the seasons; the other eight are smaller, lesser month-end days, and largely local.

The four great festivals

DateFestivalWhat it marks
30 MartisEvenspringThe spring equinox. Day and night stand equal, and from here the light gains on the dark. The year's first balance-point, tipping toward life: planting, beginnings, oaths sworn for the season ahead.
30 JunethMidsummerThe summer solstice. The longest day, the sun at its height. The great open-air feast of the year: abundance, travel, fairs, courtship, bonfires; the loudest and most public day.
30 SeptenEvenfallThe autumn equinox. Day and night equal again, though now the dark gains on the light. The mirror of Evenspring: the harvest is in, the stores laid by; gratitude shading into the bracing for cold.
30 DecinMidwinter, the TurningThe winter solstice — the longest night and shortest day, and the last day of the year. The sun reaches its lowest and turns back; the old year ends and the new is welcomed in.

Evenspring and Evenfall are a matched pair — the two days when light and dark stand equal, one rising, one failing. 'Even' carries both senses: the equality of day and night, and the evening of the year's scale.

The Turning — the year's end

The close of the year is not one day but a small season of its own, the way the holidays run together. In common speech the Turning names the whole stretch as well as the solstice day at its heart.

DateDayWhat it is
28 DecinKindling EveThe run-up — kin travel home, gather, and the first lamps are lit.
29 DecinKindling Day (anciently Starwake)The heart of the season — the great festival of remembrance and of one another.
30 DecinMidwinter / the TurningThe solstice; the longest night; the year's hinge. The old year ends, the new is welcomed in.
1 JanvarJanvar DayThe New Year — the first morning of the new count, for fresh starts, oaths, and open celebration.

Kindling Day, and the old name Starwake

Kindling Day falls on the eve of the Turning. It is not the longest night of the year — that is the Turning itself, the night after — but it sits deep in the dark, and for most folk it is the greater of the two: the night of remembrance, and of one another. Through it people kindle light against the dark — the hearth, the lamps, candles set in windows — and gather close with kin. They remember their dead, each region of the Vale keeping its own traditions for how that is done. And they give thanks to those who carried them through the year, and the thanks takes a form one can hold: a gift.

In common speech the name has worn smooth. The thing everyone does on the night is kindle — the hearth, the lamps, and, in the old figure, kin and memory and hope against the dark — until the act became the name, and people simply called the day Kindling, and then bolted 'Day' back onto it without hearing the doubling, the way a name does once it has forgotten what it meant. The temples keep its ancient name, Starwake — the night kept watch by the stars, a wake for the dead and a vigil held until the sun turns. And some have taken to calling it Gracenight.

The lesser month-end days

The thirtieth of each of the other eight months is a smaller observance — a month's-end day that gives the year a steady pulse beneath the four great festivals. These are mostly local: a town's market-day, a guild's feast, a temple's patron, a simple day of rest.

Reckoning a date

A date is written with the weekday first, set off by a middot, and then the day, month, and year: Calsday · 12th of Maian, 412 Concordis, or in brief Calsday · 12th of Maian, 412 C. In passing the weekday is often dropped — 12th of Maian, 412 Concordis — and a festival is simply named: Midsummer, 412 Concordis. Years before the rebellion are counted in Discordis: 3rd of Octen, 1600 Discordis.

The count is dependable enough that no one need keep a table: the first of every month is always Aunday, the tenth always Valday, and the round of ten holds unbroken three times to a month. Name any day of the month and its weekday follows.