There is plenty on the topic, most of their knowledge comes from the triplets having lived in a Elan city for a time, but they have read on the topic too.

The forest gives away to fields and pastures. They point out how the cows are "regular" sized (maybe a bit bigger than Opero is familiar with, but they could just be well-fed), while the goats and chickens are noticeably larger. So is a dog larger than a wolf that is running around herding the animals. They say it's probably less dangerous than a regular dog, but for Opero to stay on the safe side and not set foot in the fenced area.

Fernando looks at his wristwatch, then up to the sky.

"Hey, guys, two things. Time to play another round of 'we are not prepared to explain our world' to Opero. And also, time for sunset, does anyone mind if I just fly ahead to deal with that?"

Opero will certainly remain outside the fences. He isn't truly worried for his safety, even if he did end up attracting the ire of one of the herding dogs, but it would certainly be an significant inconvenience, and a bit embarrassing.

"Hm. I did notice that the sky was in an odd sort of twilight, away from your town, and totally dark over the dead city. I guess there's maybe some sorcery involved with that as well?"

"You guys explains," Fernando says with unusual cheer, and then he flies away.

"I want to let it be registered that I knew we are going to explain it at some point. I just wanted to use that tacky geode diorama thing your aunt has," he informs Henry and Gabe.

"Okay... anyway, uh. So Elsewhere itself is not a planet? I am assuming your world has spherical planets? Anyway, Elsewhere is actually flat. Usually two-miles thick and almost three thousand miles in diameter. There are giants crystals on the bottom that keep it a float and regulate gravity, air, weather. And the 'stars' above us, are another kind of crystal that produces the twilight light. But we can tweak it to create a day-night cycle."

"Elsewhere also grows. Slowly, but steady. And the dead city hijacks and corrupts the system. The first sign the city is expanding is causing the crystal stars to fall, which is why the place is dark."

"Oh, and if you go a few miles away from the surface, space itself becomes weird. It eventually becomes so unstable that it destroys everything. Elsewhere, is safe in the surface," he quickly amends, "but going too far has that risk."

"And our job is literally Lightkeeper apprentices, so we have to tell the stars to turn the day into night or the daylight becomes wobbly."

"Approximately spherical, discounting surface details and oblation due to spin and whatnot, yes, and I'll make sure to warn my people to not fly directly upwards for several miles." He pauses for a moment as he considers things. "I suppose it's good that Elsewhere grows, given it seems to naturally attract some populace, but it's concerning that the dead city is also expanding. I can only assume that someone, somewhere is working on a way to stop that?"

"Currently, digging all the way down and pretty much cut off the infected parts. Which is the cheaper solution that means politicians don't have to deal with it today."

"It's not... that bad. But, like, thirty years trying to find a better solution and people's hope lost steam. The dead city is not an urgent problem in the scale of years, not even in decades. But if your kind of magic can help with controlled demolition and digging, that is sure something people would be interested in."

" Oh, that chasm was for containment, that makes sense. I don't know how well spiritism and humorism compare to sorcery at that sort of thing, but I'll certainly look into it." Opero looks back up to the not-stars briefly as he thinks. "You know, if the length of day and night is a construct, how do you know when to change them? I mean, I saw the wristwatch, my people have clocks, but how do you decide how long the day is? Is it just tradition, or made to match the daylight of whichever other world, or other town even I suppose, that you trade most with, or something else?"

"All of the above. Most settlements start sponsored by someone which tends to be the deciding factor. Sometimes it changes, it's rare for towns with disparate time standards to be close enough to be a problem, but usually they negotiate to stick a new one."

"There are, like, three 'universal' standards."

They are getting close enough to see "traffic" in the form of trucks and horse-drawn carts. Some of the horses and their riders are enormous. People seen to be mostly avoiding them.

Interesting. Automobiles seem more common than Opero is used to, but that seems like one of many natural consequences of these people's more advanced technology. "So, what are those standards? And, how long should I expect days to be around your town in particular?"

"There is 'Improved Central Time Standard', and 'True Elan-Elsewhere Standardized Time', and 'Lake Turquoise Standard.' That last one is what Ashenville," he points at the town. "And our days are 24 hours long, each hour is sixty minutes."

They can use their watches to see how long a minute is and extrapolate how long they have been walking.

The not-stars start to demean gradually, faster than a sunset, but not all at once. The streetlights turn on.

Where Opero comes from, an hour is defined as one twenty-fourth of a day, and a minute as one sixtieth of an hour, so yes, finding out what that actually amounts to is necessary. After considering it for a moment, and drawing on some crystallized memory from his armor, Opero's change in stance again expresses some surprise. "Huh. That's remarkably close to how it is in my world. Another strange alignment of circumstance."

"Huh, I think that particular division is a mathematical convenience thing? Easy fractions to split the day, or the hour. Though, if I recall, 'Improved Central Time' uses a time system with multiples of ten."

"Just to be sure your world doesn't happen to have cities called Rome, Athens... Constantinople?"

"Istanbul, not Constantinople," Thomas sing songs.

"No, though I'm not familiar with every name of every little town. Though, actually, hm." He pronounces 'Athens' in isolation a few times, varying it slightly each time. "It sounds like it could be a mangled pronunciation of Adienie? Maybe a mistranslation even? Is yours also known for being the birthplace of olive tree cultivation?"

"I am not sure about the birthplace of olive tree cultivation, but there is a legend that it got its name from a goddess that gift the city with a olive tree? It was an olive tree, right?" That is asked to the others.

"Don't ask me. I don't know about mythology."

"No, an olive tree sounds right."