\|/ Turn 31, dark
Last dark I had cramps from hunger again. It's been three turns since we last ate. At least before the heat death of this planet, there were a lot of berries, even if we were lacking on protein.
Now, there is nothing but white water.
I woke up about the same time as Mik. Light was still faint from outside, and Mik was starting to stir. I didn't feel rested at all.
I also didn't feel any stronger from the last turn. Malnutrition was biting. My scales itched badly.
After Mik rubbed its eyes, I tapped it to ask a question.
It looked at me with an extremely groggy expression.
I took out my journal and tapped it. I stared at the pocket where it kept its journal.
Mik breathed deeply and put a hand under the cloak, into a pocket in its tattered clothes and retrieved the journal. It handed the journal to me.
I flipped to the turn passing drawing and tapped it urgently.
It looked confused and slightly annoyed, still rubbing its eyes. It counted out five, and then four more.
Mik went to grab the journal back. I pulled it away, straining my left arm in the motion, making me wince, before tapping the journal again.
It looked genuinely annoyed now and said, out loud, what I remembered to be its vocal version of the number nine. It repeated it and showed the number with its fingers, five and four.
I silently gave the journal back.
I was out for nine turns…
Mik took the journal and saw my blank stare into the ground. Mik tapped my tail once and got up. It went over to the bowls and picked one up, drinking from it before coming to me.
Mik put the bowl on the ground right next to me and tapped it a few times. It repeated something a few times while doing this.
Despite not understanding it vocally, I understood what it was saying.
"This turn."
Mik was saying it would find food this turn. It seemed determined to find food.
I didn't believe it.
There was nothing out there. It had probably hunted the last things that are able to survive in this death. Mik was only offering false hope.
It left the tent shortly after, dark cloak on, hatchet in right hand.
This time I managed to get up as Mik was leaving. I got to the tent entrance and watched it leave.
The white water was almost to its waist now and still falling. It was hard to see, and too cold to even bear. My snout felt immediately numb from just looking outside.
Again, I was powerless to help.
I went back inside and paced around, lightheaded, but stable.
It's too damn cold for me to do anything.
Even with my cloak and two blankets I freeze when I even think about going outside.
I couldn't gather wood. I couldn't gather leaves for more insulation. I couldn't hunt.
At this point I was willing to give up my right arm to help in any capacity.
But I couldn't.
Mik is already thinner than I remember it being. I'll be fine for a few more turns…
I calculated how to get any caloric value from anything within reach.
I couldn't think of anything.
No foraging. No hunting.
How does one survive in a dead world?
Borrowed time. That's all we have…
More time passed. I couldn't figure anything out. No resources were available for me to go outside instead of Mik. Even if I took its cloak, which would then make Mik freeze, it wouldn't help. Even if my extremities weren't at risk, and they would be, having my cloak, two blankets and Mik's cloak would make me over encumbered. This was already uncomfortably heavy.
…
Borrowed time.
Maybe I can extend the borrowed time…?
If I couldn't get more resources, I could try conserving what we have.
But we have nothing but ourselves and our weapons. The tent is stable, and there is enough wood for a while, given Mik is able to get it. Water isn't a problem since it won't stop killing everything.
…
Conserving energy.
That was my last bet.
Conserve energy by any means.
Since I couldn't contribute, I could help by burdening less. Less calories wasted.
And the only way I could use less calories was… brumation.
I shuddered at the thought.
I just got back to being conscious. I was already gone for nine turns.
But what was the point of consciousness if death was certain? Living out my last moments as Mik and I withered from starvation?
I don't want this!
I kicked a bowl in frustration.
i don't want this
I sat down and held my head, my own thorns burrowing into my hands.
I had survived so much. My ship crashing, meeting Mik, the shadow, my own idiocy, extreme cold. Mik and I just can't get a break, no matter what we do. I felt my sanity flay at the edges.
What energy is there to conserve?
There wasn't any evidence to suggest that the freezing of Tau would stop. Why would it?
The planet is dead.
…
There is nothing left.
…
I laughed. I was right about calling this planet a dead rock.
…
I continued thinking about brumation more.
When I was on the ship, SILT induced brumation by getting the ship to low temperatures, about four warmth. I could emulate that…
The dreams…
I remembered the dreams.
The feverish state of my dreams in brumation. It wasn't like the fever wake-dreams of seeing Mik torture me or seeing eyes everywhere.
It was my family. Doing stupid stuff with friends. Having an actual life.
…
A few marks passed. Mik still wasn't back.
Is it cruel to leave Mik alone again?
I would be out completely. Mik would be alone for the third time now.
But this time, I didn't feel guilty.
If it finds food, it can eat it and survive.
…
And I get to die happy.
What better ending is there? Dying of starvation in my sleep is better than dying while awake and wasting more resources.
And if Mik goes insane from starving, it can kill me.
I didn't want to see Mik lose its sanity while I sat around. I didn't want to lose my sanity while I did nothing.
If I were sleeping, dreaming of my life and Mik killed me, I wouldn't feel betrayal or pain.
Only dreams.
Life is a dream, isn't it?
…
Having decided on dying on my terms, I started preparing everything Mik would need to understand.
I took time to draw what was happening. I decided to use a whole page to elaborate.
On the top there were a few panels. The first was Mik and me in Mik's line drawing fashion under the tent. We were both standing. The second panel was both of us, but the lines signifying our bodies were thinner. The third was both of us, on the ground, scribbled out.
I drew the second row of panels. In the first panel was Mik standing, and my lying down in the tent. I drew the blankets and my cloak separated from where I was. The second panel was Mik standing and me lying down. The third panel was Mik standing with some cubes (meat like it cuts it) and me lying down. I didn't scribble anything out.
The third drawing was Mik standing and me lying down. The second panel was Mik standing, thinner, and me lying down. The third panel was Mik, full again. I wasn't in the picture.
And that would be that. If it finds food - great. It continues to live, and I die peacefully. If it found plentiful food somewhere, it could wake me up. Though this was more of a joke.
If it didn't find food… I would have a final use.
At least it already knew how to descale.
…
After drawing this I took the time to write a bunch of things down, as easy to understand as can be. I drew the Varanth universal alphabet, more numbers (going past just 10 that Mik liked), Varanth the planet, the system (in more detail) and so on. I was quite space efficient, and it only took another page. At least Mik would have something from me.
I waited for Mik to come back.
…
Mik came back after a few more marks. It entered the tent with its cloak completely covered in white water.
It threw a few logs onto the pile in complete frustration. It took a few dry logs and lit the fire. Mik was visibly furious. It didn't pay attention to me.
Mik didn't bring any food.
I went to it and enveloped it with my arms. Its flesh didn't give way now.
I felt it tense up. I had never done the action before, being reluctant to touch it. The closest thing was me clinging to its leg once, or when it enveloped me, but I was never the initiator.
It tapped my arm a few times, careful of the dulled thorns, confused.
I sat down next to it, cheerful, and went to my drawing.
I showed Mik the first drawing. I saw Mik understand and grow uncomfortable.
Then the second drawing. It tapped that one.
I tapped the third one.
"You are not going to find anything out there, Mik."
It tapped the second drawing, saying something.
"Don't be delusional. This is best for both of us."
I tapped the third drawing one final time and closed the journal.
It continued talking, but I enveloped it again. It tried to pry me off. I didn't let it.
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be…" I whispered to Mik. I wouldn't let go.
Mik was really making it more difficult than I envisioned. It had too much false hope. It made me sad to have to show it the reality of the situation.
I stopped enveloping it and went to the far side of the tent, furthest from the fire.
I took the blankets off, leaving only my cloak that was still painted black from the shadow's blood.
I was immediately hit by the cold.
Mik stood up and ran to me, trying to put my blankets on.
I looked at it and bared my teeth.
"No, Mik. This is it."
"This is goodbye."
I pushed the blankets back to Mik and sat down. Mik held the blankets.
Mik then stormed over to me and took my right hand aggressively, pulling me up with overwhelming strength and placing me by the fire.
"Mik…"
It said something loud and gave me my blankets.
I placed them slowly to the side and stood up.
Mik crouched and placed a hand on my shoulder. It kept repeating "Maya" and other words. It was the clearest Mik had ever hissed "Maya".
"It's over, Mik."
It got louder, water beginning to form in its eyes. It released me and took the bowl, placing it in front of me. It took its journal and flipped to the turn images, tapping the red dwarf.
It was saying just another turn.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Mik stared at me with an increasingly horrified expression.
I enveloped Mik, one last time, still laughing. I hoped it understood now.
I took one last look at it and went over to the same corner, lying down with just my cloak. I didn't look at Mik anymore. I heard it walking around, talking, drawing, calling my name, but it didn't try to stop me anymore.
I'm finishing writing this now. I am lethargic, but not cold. I feel calm.
I got to say goodbye, and I'll get to see my family and friends again.
I hope I'll dream of SILT as well. I miss its sarcastic remarks, even when I was imagining them.
I'll give the journal to Mik now. I hope it survives. It understands what I'm doing is best for both of us.
Mik, if you ever figure out my writing:
Thank you.
Everything will be fine.