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Kaveh started in the living room because it felt easier. More impartial. It was a shared space, after all. It was Kaveh’s space, mostly. The pictures on the wall are his. He bought the fruit bowl, the serving platter for nuts and dragées, and a set of little mugs that were sold as ashtrays but in reality were used for the pistachio shells and the like. Smoking in the house? Insanity.
Next to them stood a little bouquet of white daffodils Kaveh bought from an elderly merchant whose hands shook like leaves on an autumn breeze. They had dried up and died. Kaveh had forgotten to water the flowers as needed.
A plant that’s been cut from its roots doesn’t show signs of life for long, unless it’s from some mythological place, like the Eternal Oasis. As romantic as Kaveh considered himself to be, he was a scientist through and through. The Eternal Oasis, most likely, didn’t exist.
What’s dead goes back to being mud no matter how magnificent it might have looked in life.
They could have at least found the body before approaching Kaveh with the idea of a funeral.
No. Absolutely not. Kaveh picked up the vase. Took it to the kitchen. The flowers were dead on arrival. They’d wither eventually, even if Kaveh watched over them twenty-four seven. They had to go in the bin, and not because it was Kaveh’s fault. He stared at the empty vase for a few seconds, where the water had stained the glass, leaving a few brownish rims that wouldn’t come off easily. So, Kaveh grabbed some descaler and a dish brush and scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed.
The combined hissing of the open tap and the bristles vigorously rubbing the glass made a sound loud enough to fill Kaveh’s head. It was pervasive enough to push out all his other thoughts—not that he had many to begin with.
He should probably next pull out that anemo-powered vacuum. It was loud enough, too It was all simple, familiar motions, a routine he had learned so well he could perform them with his eyes closed. He started in the kitchen. Followed by the study, the bathroom, the toilet, his bedroom, and before he went back to the salon, he…
No. Nevermind. The mop may be loud, but he’ll leave it for later. There’s still so much work to be done anyway.
Like, since he’s still in the kitchen, he should look for the biological hazards that have surely developed in their cryo-infused food storage. There was still some halva left. It smelled faintly of something sweet, some rose and cardamom—rose because it’s customary, cardamom because it was the spice most beloved by…
No.
He quickly covered the plate with parchment paper. The rhombic pattern he’d cut into it while it was still warm and pliant was visible through the sheet. Then he returned it to its place, and started opening the other containers, one by one. There was some kuku sabzi left. He had far too much leftover greens on the morning he cooked it, so he had to mix in an extra egg to balance the ingredients out. It was still good, he could warm it for breakfast tomorrow. The sarshir was at least a week old and could only be used as a butter substitute. Or as the base for a sauce. Why should he bother? It’s not like he ate much. Cooking could be a nice distraction, though. Besides, it’s not like he had enough money to throw away sarshir that was still technically edible.
The next box he reached for contained some grilled chicken that wasn’t browned enough to be his handiwork. As more proof that this dish wasn’t made by him, or for him—the fillet on the very top looked like it was returned with a bite taken out of it.
Kaveh wasn’t sure why he was so annoyed. He told him not to do that, that knives existed, that especially with chicken it was better to make sure that it was fully cooked. Yes, he didn’t like it when his food had a brown crust on it in any capacity, but what if he got food poisoning?
Kaveh also told (practically snarled at) him to not wear his cape off of a single shoulder in early March, given how deceptive the wind in Sumeru was. Sure, Alhaitham rarely caught colds, but why did he feel the need to teeter on the edge of a blade, when covering his arms and back properly wasn’t that difficult? Kaveh didn’t want an ill junior on his hands, not at all, and especially not right before Nowruz, when there was so much to do.
That morning, before all hell broke loose, he also yelled at Alhaitham for leaving a dirty cezve on the table—that time without some grand hidden motive to keep his junior safe. Then, not a day later, he was in that same kitchen, those familiar sensations were now barely recognizable. Even trying to operate his body normally felt foreign, making halva in loving memory of that said junior. He couldn’t help but raise his voice at Cyno for bringing up the funeral arrangements, and Kaveh desperately needed to leave the situation alone before he spilled any more words he could never take back to another person he held dear. He resorted to doing predictable, futile things. Things that would never make up for how he had treated Alhaitham this past year. Things that wouldn’t breach the gap that he kept reinforcing, in fear of letting the new wounds reopen the old ones that were already there—his and Alhaitham’s alike.
Ah. Right. The chicken. He wouldn’t eat this chicken.
Kaveh considered cutting it up and leaving it outside for the stray animals; it didn’t have any onions or garlic, from what he could see.
His shaky hand closed the lid. The box slipped out of his fingers, landing on the shelf with a loud clang, but this time the noise did nothing to silence his mind. Only then does the stinging wet heat on his face register, as does the difficulty breathing—he hoped he’d notice the first time he was going to cry for Alhaitham.
Was it really for Alhaitham? More likely, it was for himself. Despite the fact that the seasons eventually changed, it wouldn’t change the fact that Alhaitham died.
Archons, how was he supposed to still stay in this house with Alhaitham gone? How could he live in a place where everything reminded him of Alhaitham?
Where would he possibly go? Where could he possibly go?
He rubbed his forehead and exhaled. His destination doesn’t matter either. He needed to walk away.
“Mehrak,” Kaveh called out, not recognizing the sound of his own voice.
The night was chilly. Dew from the grass seeped through the fabric of Kaveh’s pants. The lattice of leaves above his head made it difficult to make out the stars in the sky, and nearly impossible to predict the weather. Even though he'd learned the skill long ago, it was one he'd nearly forgotten. He’d learned how to do it when he was a kid who knew no scars or loss. He had hugged his dad’s neck tight as they walked through the city’s upper gate, fewer and fewer lanterns around them making the sky clearer, the stars more visible. Dad told Kaveh stories, and he had listened and fidgeted and tried telling some in return as a weird way to thank him for sharing his wisdom.
Then Dad was gone, and with him went an entire world inside that Kaveh had never been able to explore. Dad was gone, and Kaveh couldn’t go see him again. There was a gray rectangular gravestone west of Sumeru City, of course, but Kaveh visited rarely, if at all. Not necessarily because he turned out to be such a dedicated follower of the rules and traditions—don’t weigh down the soul with tears, don’t tie your lost loved ones to the world of living, don’t visit the burial site.
It was just the emptiness beneath. A few personal belongings on the bottom of a dug hole, pointless rituals that made everything seem like a farce. His mother’s nails were poking hard into his shoulder when an auntie around Mother’s age came up to them and complimented Kaveh for having such a strong spirit and not crying.
He asked his mother later why they couldn’t at least try to find Dad, and all she responded with was a heavy stare, as if he asked something inconceivably outlandish. He decided never to repeat the question again. He thought it was one of those things that couldn’t be truly comprehended by a child’s mind, one of those things that would suddenly make sense the second he became an adult.
He was supposed to be an adult now. His age matched that title. His burdens and his responsibilities were as adult as they could be.
Yet when Cyno uttered those words about his funeral, Kevah couldn't stand it. He went on about how Alhaitham's status, if nothing else, warranted the circus. Kaveh fled, not wanting to hear another word of this nonsense. Cyno’s lack of understanding served as a perfect target for Kaveh’s rage.
First his dad, and now Alhaitham. Both lost somewhere in the mean wilds of Sumeru, leaving Kaveh without a chance to say one final goodbye.
Would seeing him actually solve anything? Would cupping his face one last time, before time could destroy it, help him move on? He was certain that it wouldn’t help Alhaitham in any significant way, so there must be something in it for himself. Archons know Alhaitham deserved better than to die and forever remain in the secret lab of some malicious, vengeful person, a threat Alhaitham severely underestimated.
Kaveh sighed and told Mehrak to open the holographic map of Sumeru, focusing it on the rainforest, the vast area all the way from the Wall of Samiel on the west to the Liyuean border on the east. How helpful. Shards of his conversation with Cyno— mostly Cyno’s monologue—were difficult to recollect, as if they were cut and rearranged, scratched out, and interchanged with unnecessary images and voices. His own voice. The blurry Vision in his hand.
“Bullshit. He has no other friends,” Kaveh had said aloud. A pulsating sensation coursed through his head as memories rushed back. There was a fairy that shut up the second Kaveh spoke, and he had started feeling bad about it two days later. Even later, he realized the one beside her was the Traveler, who looked at Kaveh with understanding in their eyes. Or was it really pity, instead?
He pieced together all the bits that eventually led him to narrow his search from the entire Rainforest down to the Apam Woods. The southern or perhaps western part. He wasn’t sure. Was he looking for some cavern in the roots of trees? Kaveh massaged his temples before pulling a blank Vision out of his pocket.
“Come on…” He whispered.
Shit, this thing should react to elemental energy, shouldn’t it? Yet when Kaveh summoned a flash of Dendro, absolutely nothing happened to the Vision.
How does one pep-talk themselves into action when all odds are stacked against them? Giving up is tempting, just sit back and let the Matra do their job. Hope everything goes well—because hoping anything could go well should come naturally now, right? Go back to your shared house filled with ghosts, and then what? The frame around the foggy Vision dug into Kaveh’s palm hard enough to leave bright red indents behind, but pain is not what made Kaveh release his grip—it’s something else; it’s cold fear.
What if he squeezed too hard, and it exploded? Then there would be even less left behind. Was that for the best, given that Kaveh was ready to do anything to escape all those things that reminded him of Alhaitham? Is it different if he was the cause of that disappearance ? Hell, he didn’t even have it in himself to throw out his chicken, even if it was hazardous, horrible, uninspired, and just like everything Alhaitham has ever cooked for himself.
He brushed his thumb against the glass, as if trying to polish the Vision. As if scrubbing away the dust hard enough would reveal the bright green glow that Kaveh had seen so many times. He scoffed. The Vision exploding like it was some cheap glass toy was a stupid idea. Something bordering on disrespect to their Archon. Then again, what he was looking at wasn’t supposed to happen, either. Not in the next few decades, at least.
“You never make it easy for me,” Kaveh whispered, placing the Vision back into his pocket.
If he had known he was going to the Apam Woods when he ran away from home, he would have prepared better.
“Scanning!” Kaveh exclaimed.
Mehrak’s laser drew a perfect circle around the two of them. It was raining hard enough to have Kaveh get drenched in seconds. The spot he was searching for was quite grandiose based on his scattered memories of Cyno’s description. Even if it wasn’t for the rain, half the root systems that were suitable to build anything that large were submerged into ponds. Kaveh’s teeth kept chattering. Another Dendro Core came to full bloom, exploding right behind Kaveh’s back. A momentary familiar sting, and then resonating with the first, another exploded, followed by a dissatisfied wheeze of a floating fungus. Thankfully it accepted the core as a product of its own elemental energy and didn’t attack. Mehrak finally produced a 3D scan of their surroundings for Kaveh to study. The nearby trees were dense structures, with healthy cores, and no mechanical interventions that could all have been potential telltales of a man-made cavern. After the tenth scan or so, Mehrak didn’t need to be told to mark yet another location as explored.
Unsuccessfully.
The morning sky peeked through the grove’s high canopy. Each step he took through the puddles came with a resulting splash. Kaveh told Mehrak the next location and walked. A liana, hanging off a branch of an oddly shaped tree, seemed sturdy enough. Kaveh sat on it, giving no warning to Mehrak whatsoever. The briefcase instantly became alert, flying closer to Kaveh and initializing another scan that, of course, launched even more Dendro Cores into the pond around them.
A slow bloom followed by a blast, and another and another.
“I’m fine, Mehrak,” Kaveh said quietly.
The pixels on the front panel formed a sad face, before fading back to black. Kaveh huffed a humorless smile, and gently wiped the screen with his sleeve. His own face stared back at him for a few seconds, before the reflection disappeared under the wet trails of pouring rain. A feather in his hair shifted under the weight of the water, laying flat against his head. His carefully pinned braid came undone. It might have been the black of Mehrak’s screen dampening the colors, but his eyes seemed so dull, the area under his eyes so dark, his freckles pale and gray, giving his skin a sickly look. He was far from fine. He didn’t need to be fully lucid and focused to see that. What could he say? A jungle trip searching for a dead roommate could hardly be classified as one of those relaxing and rejuvenating experiences. Less so when the dead roommate in question was also the only person around whom Kaveh felt comfortable showing his true self.
Even less so, when the dead roommate in question was also the person Kaveh…
He shook his head. Buried his face in his palms. This was why he needed to do something—even if there was someone more qualified for the job. This was why he needed to do the job better than the very people who were more qualified. He tried listening to Cyno’s advice to stay out of the Matra’s business. He tried pretending that nothing happened. He tried to not let himself think about Alhaitham, about things that would forever stay ‘what if’ scenarios, things that Alhaitham had meant for him. He did. He wanted to emerge from this entire cacophony of madness victorious, but now the dam had broken. It looked like no matter how far Kaveh ran, the stream would consume him, and break him, and spit him out so far away he’d never find a way home.
Who cared what Alhaitham was to him besides an accidental roommate? Sure enough, Kaveh hadn’t seemed to care enough back when he could have done anything about it. Just how many opportunities did he have to tell Alhaitham everything? Just how many times could he let it slip through and play it off as just drunk blabbering? It’s not like his sweet little junior, who didn’t even know how to shave before Kaveh had taught him, would make things awkward just because he had said something after a few too many glasses of wine, right?
Archons above. This was just a slightly grown version of the same kid who wanted to impress Kaveh with some Fontaine-style dinner because he wouldn’t shut up about a steak he had at his mother’s wedding. The same kid who ended up burning an expensive cut of meat, a cast iron skillet, and the stove itself, forcing them to use the second floor’s kitchen for a month. The same kid who would pout, looking from under his lashes with beautiful teal eyes like an ocean shore at dawn. He’d lose the attitude the second Kaveh stopped laughing, and propose they go to that small restaurant that had the best pilaf in the city—for laughably little Mora, too!
To think that Kaveh would never get to see those eyes again. To think that his only way of setting things right (for his own conscience, and not for Alhaitham) was finishing this self-assigned task. So, he cried until no more tears were left, splashed some water on his face, and walked to his next destination, trusting Mehrak to follow him without a command—which she does. Well, at least he couldn’t say that he was completely alone now.
Regardless, hadn’t he gotten used to solitude after all those years that followed Alhaitham and him parting ways? Of course, he had friends, and he had human contact—too much of it at some points. He’d spent weeks, sometimes even months sharing living space with men at the construction sites. He’d drink and go visit Tighnari on the weekends. He’d stay for a quick gossip break in the Akademiya after delivering a guest lecture, but somehow ended up alone, even as he found himself in the middle of a room where conversation wouldn’t stop. He started thinking of it as of independence, as something that was supposed to be cherished. Archons, as if living with Alhaitham was that different from living alone! Please, they’d barely exchanged words some evenings. He would often leave to down a glass of wine or two at Lambad’s and would come back when Alhaitham was getting ready for bed. Their schedules didn’t match, and their…
Any attempts to convince himself this didn’t matter were futile.
The birds chirped. Kaveh wasn’t sure whether it was the wetness, or the sleep deprivation, but there was this deep discomfort in the marrow of his bones, something that was entirely impossible to shake off and ignore.
“Oh!” Kaveh heard a vaguely familiar, high-pitched voice not far behind him. So he turned, in time for the voice to continue. “It’s him, isn’t it? Traveler?”
Paimon. He remembered the name now. Sure enough, the two were already steadily approaching.
“Ah. It’s you two,” Kaveh said, trying to force a smile. “...Looking for me, I assume.”
“Kaveh, correct?” The Traveler asked as they approached, their eyes serious.
“Oh wow, you look absolutely horrible!” Paimon gasped.
Kaveh ignored the comment, accepting what little support came with the Traveler exclaiming, “Paimon!” in a hushed and annoyed tone. A moment of awkward silence; Kaveh swallowed, and tried to gather his thoughts.
“Let me guess. Cyno sent you my way?” Kaveh asked. The Traveler looked uneasy, and, under any other circumstance, Kaveh would have probably laughed. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it if I blew your cover. Cyno isn’t exactly subtle with these things. I bet he’d find me on his own even if it wasn’t for you two. So, I’ll tell you exactly what I told him. I’m not leaving until I’m done, and I’m not done yet.”
“Well…” Paimon sighed.
“Cyno really urged you to stop what you’re doing,” the Traveler finally spoke. “He is worried. It’s not safe, considering Siraj escaped. He might still be lurking somewhere near here. Yes, Alhaitham was able to shut the Hive down, but nobody could have predicted Siraj would turn this aggressive when he realized that the trial was awaiting him, and—...” Kaveh didn’t want to know what came after that, cutting the Traveler off.
“I’m not looking for Siraj.”
“Right, of course you’re not,” Paimon scoffed, crossing her little arms over her chest. Her expression changed quickly. “Oh? You’re serious?”
Kaveh didn’t have a good way to explain himself, nor did he think that any explanations were in order. When did he stop caring about coming off as rude?
Honestly, he simply didn’t have words that wouldn’t put him at risk of breaking down one more time, so he refused to speak any of them out loud. Not in front of complete strangers, at least. Not even if they felt a weird sort of camaraderie to Kaveh just because they happened to share a few mutual friends. Apparently including Alhaitham. Paimon must have mistaken Kaveh’s silence for an invitation to pry further.
“Well, what are you looking for, then?”
“Listen,” a shaky exhale was Kaveh’s first response to her question. “I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but I’m not just… Going to go back home with my hands empty. Tell Cyno you tried. Call it a day. Tell him my location, if it helps your conscience.”
That was it, then. Kaveh turned, and started walking away. He roughly remembered his next destination, so he had even less reason to stay with these two. He could check in with Mehrak later to be sure he was headed to the right location. Then the Traveler’s voice caught up to him.
“Even if you’re not trying to find Siraj specifically, it’s his lair that you’re after, yes?” After a short nod in response, the Traveler spoke again, “We’ve been there. We can show you the way.”
Kaveh didn’t speak at first. Nor did he simply keep walking away like he initially intended to.
“Allow us to come along with you. It’s dangerous. You can deal with your thing, and I won’t have to tell Cyno any lies.”
Archons, why would Kaveh possibly want company? Yes, tales of the Traveler’s adventures were on everyone’s lips. Knowing the exact location of the Hive would make Kaveh’s job easier, but at what cost? The Traveler seemed tactful enough, but Paimon didn’t feel like a joy to be around given the final goal of Kaveh’s journey. He had all the tools he needed to discover the Hive on his own. The glow of the status the Traveler had as a hero of the nation, one who had helped to preserve Sumeru’s independence from the Fatui, didn’t blind Kaveh either. After all, Alhaitham had them on his side. Evidently, it didn’t save him.
Yet the Traveler knew where the lair was. Kaveh could get lucky, (as if!) and the next system marked on his map would be the one he was looking for.
“Will you let me help you?” The Traveler’s voice broke through the sudden, eerie silence.
The chances that he wouldn’t were still higher. Was Kaveh’s wish to remain in solitude that important? He thought of the withered daffodils he threw away before leaving Sumeru City. He thought of the Eternal Oasis, of how even if it were to exist, it wouldn’t be located here, in the vast swamp of the Apam Woods. Alhaitham wouldn’t wait for him there forever.
Time was of essence, as much as Kaveh didn’t want to admit it. He had to be a realist. The fight left his body. His shoulders deflated, and he cleared his throat before speaking.
“Sure. Lead the way.”
“Traveler? Traveler! Paimon’s tired from walking,” Paimon whined for what must have been the hundredth time during the last hour.Then a tiny hand grabbed onto the fabric of their scarf and tugged hard, slowing the Traveler down further.
“You’re floating, Paimon.”
“It’s figurative! Don’t you know it’s figurative?!”
“Using big words now?”
The Traveler stopped for a few seconds, thinking. Then took a turn to their left, passing through a gap that at first didn’t look suspicious at all. The foliage above their heads quickly bridged the remaining gap, blocking out the last of the night sky and giving them much needed shelter from the rain. Kaveh peeled off his drenched cape, and wrung it out. It would have to go to the dry cleaners once he’d have to return to Sumeru City. His white shoes were in an even more miserable state, covered in mud. Paimon and the Traveler were busy fixing their clothes too, their bickering not stopping for a second, and seemingly growing louder, and louder, and louder.
Kaveh tried scraping some of the excess mud off his shoes, but it was hopeless. He would probably need to get a new pair. His earrings felt enormously heavy. He threw them into his pouch, then massaged his sore earlobes. Tighnari would tell him stories of the city folk going into the depth of the jungle completely unprepared. Kaveh had always snickered in response, finding Tighnari’s annoyance as amusing as some people’s naïvety. He was supposed to know better, and usually he did.
“And you’re teasing me now, too! Paimon hasn’t had a bite to eat in so long…” Paimon’s shrill voice resonated like a dull toothache.
“We can take a break,” Kaveh finally interrupted the complaining, hating how raspy his voice sounded. He stopped trying to inhale through his nose. It was too stuffed up.
The break wasn’t warranted given how long it had taken them to reach this spot, but Kaveh was honestly ready to say anything to make it stop. He sat on a tall tree root that looked comfortable. Well, as comfortable as anything could be in a grove.
A grove that also happened to be the entrance to the abandoned base of the Hive project.
The short silence was a blessing, no matter how little it actually did to help calm his unrelenting headache. He rested his head against a tree, sighing deeply. The grove the Traveler led him to wasn’t that far from the part of the woods he was exploring when they met, but if Kaveh went by the scheme he designed with Mehrak’s help, it would have taken another day at best to get here. How close were they to his destination, now? How far was Kaveh from the end of this self-assigned mission? After the end came… then what?
He heard the noises. Shuffling, as the Traveler searched through their bag. He heard some birds singing in the distance. A constant, rhythmic buzzing of insects. Quiet wind rustling the leaves. They sounded like the pre-recorded ambience Alhaitham had in his headphones. He used to find those sounds calming.
Their paths merged again years later, but long before they had to become strangers, he had told Kaveh about a summer house his grandmother owned, in the southern part of the rainforest. He’d said they’d spend a good half a year there sometimes. It wasn’t far from Port Ormos, giving the place a breathtaking sea view. Alhaitham’s days passed on a hammock in the garden. He was busy reading his books, all while his grandmother had worked on her little projects, checking out the watermelons, tomatoes, and all the other things that she used to grow there. He’d said that he often found himself drifting to sleep in the middle of the day, only to be woken up when Grandma would take a break to stretch her back. She’d gently rouse him, holding a hand-carved wooden tray with two cut glasses filled with thyme-infused tea standing in metal cup holders. She’d make some spiced milk and sugar candies to go with it, and the tea would be so hot it’d burn his throat. Kaveh said it sounded like a war crime the first time he’d heard about it. A pause followed, so he instantly apologized, but Alhaitham just smirked and said that it was the best cure there is on a hot summer day.
So, they’d drink some tea, and have some sugar together, and sometimes Alhaitham would have so much sugar that his tongue would go numb from all the spice and walnuts mixed in. Then he could barely feel how hot the tea was. They’d talk with his Grandma about everything in the world during those tea breaks, and once the conversation died, she’d kiss his forehead, and comb her fingers through his hair. Alhaitham would watch her slowly walk back to their house, before picking up his book again. He told Kaveh that in those moments, it felt like the garden’s background hum ambushed him. That it sounded just like the rainforest.
He’d said he missed those sounds whenever they went back to Sumeru City. It was some important date when Alhaitham had suddenly opened up about it. Kaveh couldn’t remember whether it was her birthday, or a death anniversary, but Alhaitham grew dangerously quiet afterwards, his teal eyes looking into nowhere in particular. Kaveh stared at his full cheeks. He didn’t know back then that would disappear once Alhaitham grew up, making him regret that he didn’t pay enough attention to them. He then lightly pinched one and asked if Alhaitham would take him there someday.
Back then, Alhaitham blinked slowly, and said that he would. Yet back then, nobody could foresee how badly their differences would backfire. There were probably more than a thousand opportunities for them to go on a trip like that.Take all those times when they were picking out furniture together on their days-off, and Kaveh got annoyed by the lack of selection in Sumeru City. He would whine and complain about how masters in Port Ormos had never failed to impress him, while Alhaitham would throw annoyed glances at Kaveh as they waited to board the ferry to Port Ormos. What had stopped Kaveh from asking whether they could visit Alhaitham’s grandma’s summer house on days like those?
Probably the very same force that stopped him from saying all the things he wanted to say to Alhaitham, and from doing all those things that they used to do as students. The very same force that lied, whispering into Kaveh’s ear that they had so much time on their hands to mend things. That he could have waited a day, and another day, and another day.
Until he couldn’t.
Even if Kaveh went out of his way and found the spot, the summerhouse had now turned into a mythological entity. A little part of the world that perished the second Alhaitham’s heart stopped beating.
“Kaveh,” a voice called. Despite his eyes being closed, he saw him.
Alhaitham. He hovered above Kaveh, his arms crossed over his chest, the cold familiar beauty. The pattern of flat moles on his face. The slightly crooked nose. A tight line to his lips. A barely visible frown between his eyebrows. “You’ll have wrinkles young,” Kaveh would say when they were in the Akademiya, smacking Alhaitham playfully with a textbook. His heart beat fast, and he wanted to reach up to cup Alhaitham’s cheek. Before he could, his eyes shot open. The image faded into golden dust. It was just the Traveler, holding out a pita pocket for him.
“Is that alright? I don’t have much else on me. There should be a few chicken and mushroom skewers, and—...”
“This will suffice. Thank you,” Kaveh forced a smile, and accepted the food. His pulse drummed loudly in his ears.
There was silence as they ate. Paimon looked way more content afterwards, sitting cozy on a tree branch. She and Kaveh eyed each other quietly for a few minutes.
“So, you’re the roommate,” She said, finally letting curiosity take over.
“Yes,” Kaveh said, taking another bite from his pita. Weirdly enough, despite it looking saucy and rich, it tasted impossibly bland. Every bite was a struggle to force down. “I am the roommate. I wish we’d met under better circumstances, I wasn’t… a good host on the day when the two of you came.”
“Oh, no, we understand,” the Traveler quickly replied.
“Yes. Yes, of course we do. You’ve lived with him for some time, you must have been at least somewhat friendly. And even if you weren’t, it’s not easy news to take, even when it’s someone like Alhaitham-...” Paimon started, and shut up the second the Traveler began glaring at her.
“You’re right, it’s not,” Kaveh agreed, trying to ignore the second part, what little appetite he had completely disappearing.
Whatever that was supposed to mean. No, he knew what that was supposed to mean. As if he didn’t call Alhaitham insufferable, or difficult on purpose—the list went on. What could he say? Paimon curled into herself, quietly looking somewhere in the distance.
“Look, I’m sorry,” the Traveler began. “Paimon didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
Was there a possible context where that phrase could have been said in good faith? Kaveh’s headache spiked. He rubbed his temples. This was a temporary arrangement. One little break, and after a few more hours he’d never have to see these two again. Not until Kaveh’s blood stopped boiling at the mere sound of their voices, at least.
“I get it. Not everyone can understand his character. I struggle, too, sometimes. And I’ve known him for years.” Kaveh said through his teeth, wrapping the remains of his pita in parchment paper. “He can be a handful. A consequence that came as a result of being a genius in a nation like Sumeru, if you will. Or anywhere, for that matter. Not that… Not that he is arrogant, or anything. Far from it, actually. But people do tend to perceive him that way, and then he won’t try to change how he behaves to not feed into that narrative further, and so the idea stays, and… Optics matter, whether we like to accept it or not.”
Kaveh sighed, bringing his palms together. Then he pressed his fingers against his lips.
“Or maybe they don’t. Maybe I sound like I blame Alhaitham for what happened. Like I blame him for angering people who jump to violence the second they encounter someone or… something they don’t understand.” Kaveh swallowed, digging the blank Vision out and holding it in his hand. Cold. Foggy. His voice dropped to a whisper, “That’s not what I’m trying to say… Not that he should have… I just… I just wish it hadn’t come to this. I just wish I could do more than… Than just try and return him home.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Paimon’s voice sounded much softer, not the shrill pitch Kaveh had already grown to associate with her. A sudden change, but not unwelcome.
Kaveh simply nodded. What else could he do?
“There was an explosion,” Traveler started saying carefully. “So…”
“So, I’ll at least try.”
Paimon sighed, flying up to Kaveh and looking at the Vision.
“Well, for what it’s worth, having Alhaitham’s Vision helps. The Traveler can scan it for traces of elemental energy.”
“Really?” Kaveh turned to the Traveler, received a curt nod, and finally exhaled. His nose was still blocked, chest still constricted, but for some reason breathing around these two suddenly became somewhat easier. “Huh. Given the situation, I should count myself lucky for bumping into the two of you. Who knows how long I’d be stuck here otherwise.”
The road leading deeper into the grove was silent. It was an odd sensation walking past remnants of the holographic barriers that could be removed so easily by almost anyone, let alone Matra, or Alhaitham. Equally as odd he felt was finding a few wooden planks from what must have been a chest under fallen leaves. Dendro was thick in some places. Probably elemental energy left behind by the Funghi. A few more days, and new ones would appear. It looked like there was nothing that could have been a grave danger. There was nothing of grave danger. Were Alhaitham’s inhibitions lowered because of how lackluster the security around the place was? An easy puzzle, a few monsters. Alhaitham had always been smarter than this, hadn’t he? He wouldn’t let his guard down that easily.
Would a day come when Kaveh would stop searching for a reason as to why everything had ended the way it did? Maybe it would. Was it really any easier to think that there was a set of measures that could have been taken to prevent this outcome? Was it easier to believe that Alhaitham made a miscalculation, that there was an inherent aspect of control and responsibility on his part, than to accept things as they were?
The human body is fragile. Alhaitham is… was only a human. Meaning a snap of fingers could shut down the little world he carried inside him.
He kept going deeper, following after the Traveler. Every subsequent step felt heavier than the previous one. The story Cyno told the night everything happened had suddenly started making sense, details arranging themselves into a somewhat sensible picture, a string Kaveh could hold between his fingers and follow.
Alhaitham used to have a classmate in the Akademiya, whose name was Siraj.
After they graduated, Siraj had proposed an idea on a project that explored an idea of the collective mind. It went against the Akademiya’s policy on research into human evolution. When Alhaitham’s input was asked for, he simply did his job by pointing the problematic aspects out.
Siraj went ahead and proceeded with his research in secret. He knew that Matra would eventually shut the project down and lock him up. He thought that the only way to avoid that fate was to become a Grand Sage. Instability in the nation was an opportunity he’d waited for: the overthrowing and the subsequent arrest of the Sages for getting into cahoots with Fatui meant huge changes in the state. The coup that Alhaitham, ironically, had a hand in was the perfect moment of instability that could help Siraj achieve his goal. Then the Lesser Lord Kusanali asked Alhaitham to temporarily take the position. He naturally became Siraj’s target, both because he decided that Alhaitham was his arch nemesis, and because he took the post he wanted for himself.
A member of the Hive had lured Alhaitham in, but he foresaw Siraj’s plan and managed to shut it down. Then, in a desperate attempt to evade justice, Siraj had killed him. Archons, why did he come here without having Matra as backup? Why did he throw himself in the middle of the action before Cyno could show up? How could one have so little care in the world for their own well-being?
Then again, what grand things awaited Alhaitham on the outside? A job that he disliked whole-heartedly? He was counting the days till he could resign without leaving the Akademiya in a vulnerable position. These past months had turned him into an insufferable brat who couldn’t find a good emotional outlet, and when he came home, it was Kaveh who greeted him.
And what did Kaveh do? He ignored all the signs, no matter how blatant. He’d kept up appearances, acting as a situational roommate who had nothing to offer except for snark. He was too afraid of the way the new grown-up version of his junior would react if he tried any of the things that used to work when they were younger. He was afraid of hugging Alhaitham, and feeling his body freeze in Kaveh’s grip, before a hand would carefully push him away. He was afraid that Alhaitham would leave without saying a word. He was afraid that if he just sat next to him, offering silent solidarity, he’d just see Alhaitham clear his throat and leave for his study or bedroom, the book he’d be reading in his hand.
The fear of rejection was nothing but chains, and he’s bound himself tight. He could have broken free. He could have probably helped Alhaitham, but he didn’t. It all seemed so incredibly dumb now that Kaveh couldn’t possibly change anything.
The Traveler stopped. There was a half-ruined platform in the middle of the woods, with traces of a recent thorough search by the Matra. Empty huts elevated from the tree floor stretched far into the grove. There were floating holographic control panels, not currently in use. Kaveh kneeled to inspect something dark on the stone and immediately yanked his hand away, realizing that it was dried blood.
This was really it. He peered into the chasm, a huge pile of ashes and rubble remained beneath his feet at the center of the explosion. No way anyone could have survived such a violent force. No way anybody would still be in one piece. Even if Alhaitham had tried teleporting, with the sudden ambush he wouldn’t have had any time to prepare, likely messing up the trajectory. So he fell, and ended up buried by all the rubble. Or he fell further, off the edge of the platform.
Kaveh rushed to the edge, his foot slipping as he slid down into the pile of rubble to have a closer look. The wreckage was unstable under his feet and he struggled to maintain his balance for a few seconds. His heart was pounding so loud it overpowered the sounds of the rainforest, the distressed beep Mehrak let out, and Paimon’s horrified scream of, “Careful!”
Below the metal base, the integrity of which was mostly intact after the explosion, there was a deep, seemingly bottomless pit. Even if Alhaitham had managed to teleport in time, the distance he could have traveled wouldn’t allow for a safe landing. He was probably too disoriented to open his wing glider in time, and the big branches jutting out made the fall even more dangerous. One wrong gust of wind... Kaveh swallowed. If only he teleported to the side, where he could have easily reached one of the huts, or the nearest tree. Even if he did have time for a maneuver like that, it wasn’t calculated in advance. Just an instinctual ‘get as far away from the explosion as possible.’ If that was even what happened, it was arguably worse than being instantaneously blown into pieces.
“Kaveh,” the Traveler’s trembling voice called out.
Kaveh heard himself let out a shaky exhale. It was difficult to take his eyes off the sight of destruction, of how the untamed wilds of the rainforest carried on into the cavernous depths underneath the platform, but he forced himself to turn and face the Traveler. They outstretched their hand to him, their amber eyes opened wide in distress.
He accepted their hand, climbing back onto the solid ground. He felt like his spine had been replaced with a weak wobbly spring.
This isn’t real. This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this…
“The Vision,” the Traveler’s voice had this very careful edge that made Kaveh want to scream that he wasn’t insane, but he had enough self-awareness to realize that wouldn’t exactly help his case.
It took a few moments for Kaveh to understand what the Traveler was referring to, but eventually it clicked. So he searched his pocket, and handed them the foggy marble.
He took a few slow steps, clutching his head, and closing his eyes. It was as if every part of his body had turned against him, every sensation too heavy, too bright, too loud, too cold. The odd desire to escape his own physical shell to hide from the painfully growing discomfort was getting more tempting by the second.
Fuck, he was so, so tired.
Kaveh turned his head to watch the Traveler, as they interacted with the Vision. He couldn’t see what they were doing, exactly. There was a disturbance in the air Kaveh would sometimes sense when interacting with areas with unusual Ley Line activity, but not a single visual indicator of what was going on. Except for a frown that seemed to be gradually growing as they tried something, and tried again, and again.
Kaveh felt he must be a bad person, because it wasn’t until the Traveler’s demeanor became this distressed that he developed any sympathy for them. The disturbance Kaveh felt slowly faded. He watched them stare at the Vision.
“Traveler! What is it?” Paimon flew closer and lowered herself, watching the marble intently, as if trying to make it give her the answers that the Traveler wouldn’t.
Kaveh wanted to scream, when they finally turned to face him.
“I’ve interacted with ‘dead’ Visions before. This one is different. It doesn’t have any traces of elemental energy in it. It’s as if this is just a mock-up. A souvenir. Or a genuine Vision… But it’s foggy and gray not because the owner is deceased, but because it was never activated by any Archon-like power to begin with. Not yet at least.”
The words the Traveler spoke had turned into a collage where Kaveh could make sense of the individual pieces, but the overall composition was so messed up that it didn’t make any sense. Think, Kaveh, he told himself, but his brain refused to cooperate.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kaveh asked, his voice hoarse and colorless.
“I don’t know what it is, but it’s not Alhaitham’s Vision, Kaveh.”
Kaveh only remembered flashes afterwards. Mehrak scanned the rubble. No signs of any variation in density were present. Nothing that would indicate that there was a body. What was that Vision there for? Where was Alhaitham’s real one? Didn’t Kaveh deserve to at least keep this little piece of his junior, of his unyielding ambition?
Paimon’s insistent whining made them take another break a few hours down the line. Kaveh couldn’t tell whether it was day or night, he only allowed himself to idly wait till his accidental companions had rested and then throw himself back into search. They descended to the bottom afterwards. Kaveh had never found maneuvering his wing glider this difficult, the ever-growing ache in his bones not helping one bit. He was frantically glancing at the branches, what little hope he had left giving way to fear. Alas, they were just that, just empty branches, save for a bird nest here, a Rukkhashava mushroom there. Then the inky black emptiness soon lightened, switching out with another image. One of a too-large leaf, and a rotten log. Once they were on the ground, anything that seemed to be out of place made Kaveh’s heart constrict painfully, and he’d rush onward, each time finding out that it was nothing yet again. It only served to mock him. So did Mehrak’s beeps meant to confirm yet again what Kaveh had alreasdy seen wtih his own eyes.
Blasts and beeps, voices of Traveler and Paimon from the parts of the grove they were supposed to search getting closer, then farther, rainforest ambience, his own breathing all came together to serve as a background noice as Kaveh searched, and searched, and searched losing the track of what he was looking for more times than he could count.
He found himself much later, seated on one of those logs he’d confused with something else, staring into the distance empty-headed. Part of him was sure he’d already been here before during the past day, another not so much. It was then when the Traveler approached him and proposed that they should go back to Sumeru City.
What a spectacularly bad idea, Kaveh thought. Like a Mondstadtian windmill crushing grain, the city would grind him to dust. Still, one glance at the Traveler, their disheveled clothes, the tired expression on their face that was such a stark contrast to the aura of confidence they eluded when they first stumbled into each other, he reluctantly agreed, not believing the words he was hearing himself speak. Maybe he could come back later, when the Traveler’s off their back, and Kaveh wouldn’t feel like he was responsible for them, too. Maybe he’d already seen enough to not come back. Maybe the unforgiving rhythm of Sumeru City was exactly what he needed to forget how badly he had failed. Maybe the hustle of the Grand Bazaar, the familiar cold walls of the Akademiya’s main building, the endless loop of meeting clients and making revisions to his projects were all parts of the cure he needed. He tried to get up from the log he sat on to only find out that his body resisted the urge to move entirely, even though his scrambled mind had already managed to convince him that returning to the city was the best course of action.
Time seemed to lose all meaning, shrinking and expanding beyond Kaveh’s control. For all he knew, the road back to the cavern exit could have taken a few seconds, or a few weeks. Hell, Kaveh wouldn’t have even realized they were out in the ponds again if it wasn’t for the sight of Cyno and Tighnari making him hyper-aware of his surroundings. Only then did it click that it was the night sky looming over them, and not the patchwork of branches and leaves.
Kaveh blinked once, and saw Tighnari’s annoyed expression. He blinked the second time, and saw his friend’s eyes widen, mouth parted slightly in worry. Tighnari pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, and with a growl, grabbed Kaveh’s sleeve, dragging him off somewhere.
“I want to go home,” Kaveh protested, once he found himself sitting in Tighnari’s hut.
He couldn’t remember when or how he got there.
“Sure you do,” Tighnari said. His lips were pressed into a thin line, the upset frown wrinkling his brow.
He shoved a cup of some concoction into Kaveh’s hands with a face that allowed no room for argument. Everything seemed blurry for a second and then came a long, dreamless sleep.
Kaveh jolted awake at the sudden intrusion of hushed voices. Everything felt off. He was drenched in sweat, and the fabric of the shirt latching onto his body was too rough to be anything from his personal wardrobe. He reached for his carafe on the nightstand. His hand ended up caressing the empty wooden surface, to only stop once his finger reached an unfamiliar gap. Kaveh’s eyebrows furrowed. A few more seconds passed before the pieces started to come together. There was no nightstand, and what he felt underneath his hand was a junction between floorboards. The ceiling looked off because of the triangular shape that was typical for a ranger’s hut in Gandharva Ville. It made sense that the way the clothes hugged his body felt strange, because he was probably wearing the Forest Ranger attire.
The conversation that woke him up went on. Kaveh saw light under the gap of the door to his left, a figure passing by blocking it for a few seconds. He sat up, massaging the back of his neck. A narrow dresser stood by the wall opposite to the door. On top of it lay his Vision, casting a weak glow on his neatly folded clothes and Mehrak.
He slowly got up. It felt like weights were strapped around his ankles. Even the few steps it took to reach and open the door felt like too much of a strain. The creak of the door had instantly stopped the chatter, and after a few seconds of squinting needed to adjust to the bright yellow light, Kaveh saw all the familiar faces. The Traveler, Paimon, Cyno and Tighnari, all seated on pillows around a low, round table. Kaveh joined them. In the windows he saw the dark sky, and the black silhouettes of the trees. The same sight that greeted him when he’d first arrived in the forest. Nevertheless, he didn’t have any idea how long had passed since then. He was still stuck in a weird limbo between confusion and hyperawareness, and he watched Tighnari get up and get him a glass of water that he didn’t know he needed until he took the first sip.
Archons, he felt so, so excruciatingly cold.
“How do you feel?” Tighnari asked. Kaveh shrugged in response, not expecting his non-answer to annoy Tighnari as much as it did. “Why did you get up? You need to rest and recover properly. Oh, and if you’re going to start again about wanting to go home—...”
“I am, actually,” Kaveh cut him off. He didn’t want to hear this. Any of this.
“Yes. I figured that much. Guess what? That’s not happening. You had your opportunity to stay home, and you threw it away. You’re not going anywhere until I see with my own eyes that you’re capable of taking care of yourself.”
Kaveh opened his mouth, but then simply shook his head and looked off to the side, away from the others. It was easy to study a wall, the few cupboards where Tighnari kept his carefully curated collection of medicinal herbs, the kitchenette where a set of teacups stood on a wooden tray that he got for Tighnari in Port Ormos a few years ago. It was much harder to look at any of the eyes staring at him with varying levels of concern. Archons, he wanted to be left alone. Was being left alone too much to ask? He loved Tighnari and Cyno, and he found the disdain toward the Traveler and Paimon had faded. None of them were the worst company he’d had.
With Tighnari for instance, Kaveh would normally close his eyes and ignore the fact that he could be overbearing with his care sometimes. Normally he could brush it off. It was so easy to imagine how this would have played out if Alhaitham had been there.
Kaveh once had a client who kept trying to push him into doing things that went against every principle he held as an architect. He loved a challenge, but refused to compromise on the quality of his work. Kaveh wouldn’t refuse to work with that rich merchant, but he grew antsy, and a weird rash developed on his neck. He sacrificed many sleepless nights trying to find a way to satisfy everyone.
When Tighnari tried to intervene, it was Alhaitham who had saved Kaveh from his mother hen tendencies. He would have saved him now, too. Kaveh was sure of that.
He’d say that he’d keep an eye on Kaveh and take him home. He wouldn’t ask a single question. They’d simply walk along, the elevation climbing as they made their way back to the house. The only sounds between them would be gentle clinking of accessories on Alhaitham’s pouch, and the Sumerian winds. Kaveh’s shoulders would slowly relax, and he’d take a tiny step closer to Alhaitham. The lantern would cast a soft golden glow on Alhaitham’s features, and the stark contrast between the shadow and the light would be so disorienting that it would make it look like Alhaitham was smiling a little.
As an architect, Kaveh had spent so much time observing the world around him from the perspective of scale, balance and proportions. His designs would always lean to organic shapes. However, while knowing how to convince his clients to join the columns with an arch, or to give the roof of a building a gentle bend, he’d often fail to do so when it came to introducing round and curved objects into the interior design. For instance, he’d almost always hear that a round table took up too much space. He’d disagree, saying that a round table would allow for flexibility that a simple rectangle wouldn’t permit. Almost always it was so much easier to squeeze in one more person at a round table if the need arose. In a nation like Sumeru, where hospitality bears cultural importance, something like that was a big positive.
Now that he had a rare chance to sit at a round table, he didn’t feel like that flexibility was a positive at all. If anything, that extra space around him seemed to put a huge weight on Kaveh’s shoulders. With the way it surrounded him it was all too easy to imagine one more person joining them. He could readily picture a familiar figure dressed in dark colors entering the hut, sitting by his side, and putting his messy nest of gray hair into Kaveh’s peripheral vision.
Nobody would save him. He was alone now. He had no safe space. He was an exposed nerve, even the lightest pressure resulting in excruciating agony. It didn’t matter if the intentions of the one poking at it were good.
“Kaveh,” Cyno’s voice called out. “Listen, we all understand you. If anything happened to ‘Nari—...”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Kaveh interrupted Cyno through grit teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, I know you all are trying to help, but I don’t want to hear it. I don’t ask for much now, do I? I just don’t want to be held back and pampered like I’m incapable of meeting my own basic needs. I don’t want to end up missing a bunch of work deadlines and lectures! I don’t want to lose one, yet alone both of my jobs when work is the only thing keeping me sane. I don’t want to hear how you’d understand when you don’t. I just—... I just want to go home.”
“I will reiterate, that you could have stayed home, you could have worked on your projects, you could have proven that you’re able to cope on your own. Yet, you ran away into the rainforest, entered an active investigation zone, and threw yourself into danger. You were delirious with fever when you came out! Don’t even get me started on what could have happened if you went in alone,” Tighnari snarled, his ears going flatter with each word he spoke, pressed to his head by the end of his tirade.
“Pray tell, what could have happened if I went in alone? I am not a child requiring supervision! I am not incapable of standing my ground if the need arises!” Kaveh raised his voice, matching Tighnari’s.
“Hey! Stop it this instant, both of you! Nobody’s accusing you of those things, Kaveh” Cyno intervened, squeezing both Tighnari and Kaveh’s hands. Judging by Tighnari’s scowl, if it wasn’t for Cyno interrupting the two of them, Tighnari was about to give a very detailed answer to Kaveh’s question, and that made Kaveh’s blood boil even more. Cyno continued, “We know that you’re more than able to stand up for yourself. And nobody will make you stay in Gandharva Ville against your will.”
If Tighnari’s glares could burn, Cyno would have been a pile of ash, and Kaveh was going to join him in his fate.
“All we’re asking for is for you to hang around till after your cold is better. I’ll take you back home once you regain enough strength to endure the road. I promise, so long as you promise to not go and do reckless things, or break the law. And, as unwelcome as it may be, you’ll have to tolerate ‘Nari or me visiting you daily for a while. Do we have an agreement?”
“We could stop by, too!” Paimon chimed in, and Cyno gratefully nodded, his eyes still trained on Kaveh.
Kaveh slowly exhaled, letting his rushing heartbeat slow down until it was back to normal. Then he simply nodded, bitterly. Compromises would have to be made. After all, as long as he wasn’t forced into temporarily becoming a Forest Ranger under Tighnari’s inescapable supervision, he’d agree to the check-ups. He brushed Cyno’s hand off, and looked down at the glass of water in another attempt to avoid all the peering eyes. The silence hung heavily. Kaveh searched for any thread he could catch to break it, and if he was lucky enough the conversation would go on without his participation, and wouldn’t end with Tighnari chastising him again.
“So the Vision is not Alhaitham’s,” Kaveh said, taking a while to get his thoughts together. So much for finding a good topic that wouldn’t upset anyone. “The Traveler must have told you that.”
“Ah, yes. That. It was an oversight on our part to not get it checked as soon as we found it. I’ve taken it to a Spantamad lab to try and understand where it could come from in case there is some other criminal activity that will have to be investigated. Potential black market involvement in a case like this won’t surprise me one bit. The Kshahrewar researcher who was supposed to give Siraj everything necessary for the Hive’s creation got stood up. This can only mean that someone else must have supplied him with the equipment he needed. Suppose my suspicion is confirmed, and this is just an unpowered fake Vision that Siraj had acquired, then the number of potential trader collaborators narrows down significantly. I’ve had to deal with these kinds of merchants before. Most of them will gladly jump at the opportunity to bring competition down.”
Kaveh didn’t need to be told about merchants and their ethics, given his history with the Lord Sangemah Bay, and the debt that left him homeless. He gave Cyno an empty stare. He didn’t know what kind of answer he was looking for, or if there was an answer at all, but what he heard was even more disappointing than he could have imagined.
“I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but finding the merchant who cooperated with Siraj is a thread that may lead us to the man himself. Unfortunately, all the members of the Hive that had been arrested so far have zero recollection of what was going on during the project. They can’t even name any of their fellow members, let alone help the Matra find Siraj. I may be wrong for putting all my eggs in one basket, but I have a hunch that uncovering the secret behind this Vision will help the investigation move forward. Besides, it’s not like we need to wait long. The lab results will be out any minute now. I told Aarav, who was responsible for the Hive case from day one, to send the results my way the second the analysis is completed.”
“Any minute now?” Kaveh absentmindedly repeated. “How long was I out for?”
“About a day,” Tighnari’s voice now sounded deflated, placing a seed of guilt into Kaveh’s heart. “You were in really, really bad shape when the three of you got out of the cavern. At least you’re coherent enough now. Come, let’s find you something to eat, you must be starving.”
“I’ll help,” Kaveh tried to get up, but got pressed back into a sitting position. Tighnari’s short claws poked at his shoulder.
“Kaveh, just rest,” Tighnari sighed as he got up. His ears were still flat, but he too, had no intention to fight over the situation anymore, not when they clearly had much larger troubles to face. “Archons know you need it, even if you refuse to admit it yourself.”
Kaveh let the Valuka Shuna do his thing. After all, making an enemy out of one of the only people who cared enough to be there for him wasn’t the smartest course of action, even if every fibre of Kaveh’s soul violently resisted anyone getting too close. Especially given that the clouds in the sky continued to thicken. At this rate, they’d turn into something solid and fall under their own weight, crushing everything beneath.
“Siraj is still missing, and the Matra have no leads,” was all he could produce in response. Any additional thoughts or elaboration disappeared into the fog.
“He is, though something strange is happening,” Cyno said. “Alhaitham and the Traveler discovered that Siraj numbered the members of the Hive. He himself was number one. Ilyas, who was sent to lure Alhaitham to the base of the Hive, was named Siraj number thirty six. Alhaitham assumed that the numbering was assigned based on importance. Everyone we’ve detained, both in the cavern and the suspicious individuals outside, seemed to have a higher number than fifteen.”
“There are also other peculiarities. We ended up finding a list featuring the names of several individuals who were registered as co-authors of Siraj’s initial project. According to that, there shouldn’t be anyone left to arrest. This could mean that Siraj had given his second in command the number sixteen, but we can’t properly confirm or deny it, given the memory loss the ex-Hive members had suffered. I think that right now it’s reckless to assume that. It is way more likely that the people who rank from two to fifteen are walking around freely. That Siraj has always had a plan B, and the list with the first fourteen members hasn’t been discovered. I’ll go as far as to assume that another secret base is either being built right now or has existed all along. We just haven’t found any clues about its location yet.
“Well, that would be stupid, wouldn’t it?” Paimon cut in, “Siraj’s entire goal was to murder Alhaitham in secret and then be elected as a Grand Sage. However, with the way things turned out, there were multiple witnesses. The Matra are after Siraj. He’s a wanted criminal. Even if he has managed to preserve parts of the Hive through numbers two-to-fifteen, the second he shows up himself, he’s done for.”
“This is research into a collective mind. Siraj can dedicate another member of the Hive as… well… the walking representation. Right?” Kaveh quietly said. “Who has to know it’s Siraj, when it can be presented as… I don’t know, some senior researcher named Jamal from a different Darshan? Besides, do we fully exclude the possibility that the goals of the project haven’t changed? What if he’s not after the Grand Sage position anymore? He may simply keep a low profile, and continue pursuing his other research goals, whatever they may be.”
“For your first question, you’re absolutely correct. A potential Siraj number two may be walking the halls of the Akademiya as we speak, completing the orders of the Overmind. No one would know it’s him. Siraj isn’t stupid enough to show up himself. His research breaks one of the Akademiya’s laws, which is enough of a reason in itself to detain him,” Cyno said. For a second Kaveh could swear that he saw Tighnari, who was currently busy in the kitchenette, freeze before he continued on like nothing happened. “But the murder of the Acting Grand Sage? Of the one who held the position of Sumeru’s highest moral authority? The Matra shouldn’t exist as an organization if they don’t take this matter as seriously as humanly possible. I doubt that Siraj hopes that we will let it slide with time. I will see to his arrest, no matter the cost. I would have, even if Alhaitham wasn’t my friend.”
Kaveh sat silent. He knew that when it came to Alhaitham not many people shared his loss. He knew it so well it was really easy to forget he mattered to others as well. Cyno was one of those few people. The General Mahamatra didn’t have the privilege of calling many people his close friends, all because of his threatening status. The strongest of friendships are born in combat, and tested by combat, and the revolution where they were outmatched and outnumbered brought them together. His sadness wasn’t born out of empathy for a suffering friend, like Tighnari’s was. It was just as personal as his own.
Most of Cyno’s face was hidden under long strands of hair, his bangs covering one eye completely. His back was crooked, elbows pressed to his knees, mouth invisible behind his interlaced fingers. For a second, Kaveh wondered if any of the scars that laced Cyno’s skin had been inflicted when he shared the battlefield with Alhaitham, and Kaveh simply hadn’t noticed. With most of Cyno’s features not visible because of his pose it was hard to say what else, if anything, was going on in his mind.
“Thank you,” Kaveh exhaled. He couldn’t find any other words. Cyno simply nodded in response.
Cyno didn’t move for a while. When he eventually spoke again it was barely audible, as if he was thinking out loud and not talking to anyone in particular. A few phrases reached Kaveh’s ears. He didn’t know why they were stuck so deeply in Cyno’s mind, but he wouldn’t question them.
“Whether or not the aim of the project has changed, the next Grand Sage, or the Acting Grand Sage, is likely in grave danger… With Siraj potentially being able to control anyone between the ranks of two-to-fifteen, they could be anywhere, and we wouldn’t know until it’s too late…”
The Traveler and Paimon joined Kaveh in looking at Cyno, trying to understand whether he would come out of whatever trance-like state he was in. Tighnari kept cooking, the clatter of pots and pans turned into a background hum for Cyno’s mumbling. He was the last person who would be phased by Cyno’s quirks.
“It’s smart that the Lesser Lord Kusanali hasn’t announced who is going to be the new Acting Grand Sage… Working in secret, probably, till… Wait…”Cyno suddenly stood up, as if an invisible string under the pillow he sat on had launched him upward. His tan skin looked ashier, the blood-red glow of his visible eye peering at Kaveh like he just saw a ghost.
“What is it?” Now, this made Tighnari turn to look at Cyno as well. He had stopped mid-motion with a ladle held tightly in his hand.
“Maybe it’s nothing, but I might have had a breakthrough.” Cyno’s words were uncharacteristically slow.
“You need to tell us!” Paimon shouted, flying uncomfortably close to Cyno’s face, pointing her tiny finger at him, her brows drawn together. Kaveh could see a world where he would have found it funny.
However, Cyno looked straight past her, still holding Kaveh’s gaze. He didn’t know if it was remnants of his fever making him see things that weren’t there, but he could swear that for just a fraction of a second Cyno’s lips were creased upwards by the faintest of smiles.
“Apologies, but I’m afraid any further matters concerning this case will have to remain strictly confidential until the Matra arrest Siraj. I will now be returning to Sumeru City.”
Tighnari kept looking at Cyno with a frown, the very ends of his ears twitching slightly as he spoke.
“At this time of the night? What about Aarav, didn’t you tell him to come here once the lab results were out?”.
“If Aarav has already hit the road, our paths will cross. It won’t be a problem. As for the case itself… I think resolving it won’t take much longer. I need to discuss a further plan of action with my people, and the Lesser Lord Kusanali. You need to understand the urgency. Look after each other in the meantime and don’t do anything reckless.” Cyno instructed them in one breath.
His eyes then stopped on Kaveh one more time, as if he wanted to say something to him. As if he’d hate himself if he didn’t. As if he was torn between an urge to act on impulse, and the requirements of his duty.
“...Cyno?” Kaveh tried to call out, but it was one of the times the General Mahamatra won, rendering Cyno, his friend, almost speechless.
Almost.
“See you once this is all over, friends.”
A few days passed, but Cyno never returned. Kaveh was fully recovered, and Tighnari took it upon himself to escort him to Sumeru City. A step through the gates, and Kaveh’s senses were ambushed. The familiar cacophony of merchant voices trying to top one another, the clanging next to Ahangar’s booth, the chatter at the pier as people waited for ferries and boats to arrive, all that buzz filled the air. The alluring smell of spice reached the shore all the way from the Grand Bazaar and mixed with the seawater and the smoked kabobs that were grilled at Lambad’s. Tighnari lightly pressed his hand to Kaveh’s back, taking him out of the stupor he felt. He moved reluctantly. A few vendors walked between the booth of the Adventurer’s Guild where people were busy putting up, reading, and accepting commissions. They were carrying trays filled to the brim with tea and freshly squeezed juices.
A young merchant with a bunch of bagels hanging off of a wooden stick slung over his shoulders yelled out “Kaak! Kaak Alasreya, fresh out of the oven!” His forehead glistened with sweat, and he looked very tired, but he wouldn’t take a seat, even though there were benches available in the shadow of a spreading fig tree. They were placed here and there all over the city, meant for the citizens to rest, but remained empty most of the time, not even appealing to kids or the elderly. Of course, there were taverns, coffee shops, small restaurants, and performances, but even leisure in Sumeru City often involved rushing and work.
It was a normal feeling for Kaveh to instantly get infected with the flow, all thoughts except for the list of tasks and commissions leaving his mind. Even while walking to the Grand Bazaar he was trying to dissect and arrange the next several days into a schedule. A guest lecture here, a jury he was in a committee for there. He also wanted to catch another senior scholar, Amaya, who often did Kaveh favors. She gave critiques to his construction studio students whenever he had to be out, either on a research trip, or at one of the sites he managed. She loved Snezhnayan chocolates, especially those with cherry and liquor, and Kaveh made sure to always get her a box as a gesture of gratitude for her trouble. He had no doubt it was her who stepped up for him this time as well.
Would a box of chocolates suffice this time around? He typically gave her notice in advance before disappearing. Luckily enough, the same merchant who he’d purchased the chocolates from also sold an imported sparkling wine that was all the rage at one of the end of the academic year parties thrown by the Sage of Kshahrewar.
Which client’s project should be my highest priority? Kaveh thought to himself. He had to get in contact with Farid, his furniture master. One of his suppliers had also wanted Kaveh to arrange a meeting with the merchant who was planning to build a villa in Port Bayda. With the humid winter’s cold finally over, the work at his two temporarily suspended construction sites would resume, and it would inevitably lead to revisions, changes in the rank among the workers, more meetings, and more errands to run. Time was of the essence. During Nowruz many have fled the city in favor of calmer spots, be it Port Ormos, or Caravan Ribat. It would be simply impossible to catch some people until after the holiday week was over. If he managed to get everything in order, he’d hopefully be busy working on a new blueprint by the time the rest of the nation was busy celebrating.
As if those things were truly his first priority.
In a rare display of consideration, Alhaitham would have always made sure that the house was clean, the dishes were done, the dinner was cooked, and the pantries stocked after Kaveh returned from his trips, especially long ones. That allowed Kaveh to easily focus on his work for a day or two before the house errands naturally became his responsibility once more. He didn’t have that kind of a headstart this time around. He’d instead be met with cold walls and still air, layers of dust and just a few ingredients that he could use to make a decent meal.
He would also be met with silence, save for Mehrak’s occasional beeps and his own mumbling under his breath in hopes of preventing himself from going insane, which made his chest constrict even tighter. Tighnari headed for a shorter path home.
“Wait. Can we go to the Grand Bazaar?” Kaveh asked. “I need to get some groceries.”
Tighnari’s ear twitched. He knew why, and was sorry about it, imagining how annoying this place was for someone with hearing as sensitive as Tighnari’s. It didn’t help that Tighnari was on edge after Cyno went away and had kept them in the dark ever since. He sensed the subtle shift in Tighnari’s overall aura, but before he could comment on it, Tighnari replied.
“I suppose so,” Tighnari agreed, shrugging. “Do you have enough Mora on you?”
“Of course I do!” Kaveh exclaimed, annoyed, his cheeks warming. Except he wasn’t actually sure he did, if he thought about it for longer than a few seconds.
Archons, he really needed to get back into the flow, didn’t he? He needed to come to terms with what happened and focus on his own survival. At this point, what happened was just a common thread of events running through his life. Whatever Kaveh had held dear crumbled and disappeared. Some people perished, some changed nations. He watched his magnum opus succumb to the Withering, and lost everything to see it rebuilt. The rest of Kaveh’s life would look exactly the same. He’d find something new, and beautiful, and precious. He’d touch it, and it would turn into ugly black tar under his fingers. Kaveh would have to cut his losses, let himself be sad for a day or two, and then keep on going, trying to not crumble under the ever-increasing load of consequences and responsibilities. Such was life.
Maybe, a day would come when he could straighten his back under the weight of this new regret. It always had before. He’d relearn how to navigate the world without Alhaitham. That day wasn’t today, nor was it tomorrow, but what choice did Kaveh have except for working on slowly getting himself there?
He hoped that when the Matra finally announced that they’d arrested Siraj, it would hasten that day’s arrival. Maybe it wouldn’t.
Kaveh looked at the stalls. He wouldn’t be getting fresh fruit, it was too expensive. There was still some coffee in the pantry from what he could remember, enough to keep him up at night for a week or two. There was also some basmati rice left, and a few onions and tomatoes should have stayed somewhat decent. If he got some green lentils, he could make himself a meal that would last for days. Tighnari watched him quietly.
Kaveh’s hands were soon full of shopping bags. He broke out in a sweat under his cape as he dragged them through the Bazaar. Khabib, the son of the woman Kaveh usually got his greens from, threw a bunch of tarragon and spinach into a bag he was packing for Kaveh. He wouldn’t be needing those anytime soon. Tarragon was expensive, and Kaveh didn’t like spinach. Explaining that drained him as much as telling Jut, the spice vendor, that he wouldn’t need any turmeric or cumin for the pastries this year, since he wasn’t planning to celebrate.
The day was sunny. The wind was almost quiet even as they were getting closer to the crown of the Divine Tree. A little girl almost knocked Kaveh over as she ran past him, heading straight to the announcement board of the Zubair theater. The props used for the annual spring celebrations were largely the same, the theater staff busy dragging them up onto the wooden stage. Two of the theater’s engineers were testing the bonfire prop, which seemed to have had some improvements made to it, the flames now moving and shifting colors. He remembered Madam Faruzan mentioning something about lending a helping hand to the theater as a gesture of appreciation.
It was strange. Kaveh wanted to get home, but all of a sudden his limbs were filled with lead, even though he only had a couple of minutes worth of walking to get there. His mind was ready to overanalyze every detail of his surroundings, like he used to in the Akademiya. When he was a student, he had a good reason to do so. Now, he was just trying to postpone the inevitable. Eventually he found himself standing at the doorstep anyway.
He searched his pockets. There was still a familiar flicker of anxiety, but this time around he couldn’t have possibly blamed Alhaitham for grabbing both keys off the tray, even if he had an infuriating habit of doing so. It was on Kaveh if had lost them during his adventures. The door opened with a creak.
Would the sight of an empty apartment be any easier if Kaveh had found Alhaitham’s body? His throat tightened, but he pushed through. He changed his ruined shoes for a pair of home slippers, taking out another pair for Tighnari from the shoe rack. His body seemed to operate on its own as he presented what little hospitality he could, mumbling an apology for the mess. He headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee in an effort to keep Tighnari busy. Then he walked through the empty rooms, opening the windows to let the fresh air in. He cooked, refusing any help. Then he served the dinner for two, making sure that the spot opposite his own remained untouched by anyone. He even attempted to maintain a conversation about nothing in particular, but silence soon filled the air, because Kaveh neither wanted nor had the energy to have a conversation when the house’s true host was absent. He wasn’t a good enough actor to fake it either.
If he wanted to run away again and change careers, he’d have to find a different job since Sheikh Zubair was unlikely to offer him one. That was alright, if Kaveh had learnt anything about his existence in the past couple of weeks, it was that he didn’t belong anywhere anymore. Why search for a better alternative when there were none?
When the evening came, Kaveh made sure to pack some of the remaining food for Tighnari, along with a few pieces of leftover halva. Tighnari gave him some space despite Kaveh’s failure to perform normalcy. He hit the road before the sunset, much to Kaveh’s audible relief. He locked the door, and went to the kitchen to do the dishes. The sound of water hissing joyously as it hit the copper pan was his only company.
There was an entire crate of Kaveh’s favorite semi-sweet red that Alhaitham had bought a few months ago, a peace offering after a bad fight between them. Kaveh looked through the cupboards, and there it was, half-emptied over the course of many dinners they’d shared after. Sure enough, it was covered in a thin layer of dust. A bit of work with a dust rag, and a quick search for a bottle opener later, Kaveh took a large swig, forcing the warm liquid down his throat way too fast to feel anything except a burning sensation. Alhaitham would sometimes crave something salty to go with his thyme tea in the evening, so if Kaveh was lucky, he could find a snack to go with the drink. Which drawer did they store those in? He found little sesame rings, still as good as fresh ones but a messy choice. He took a bite, leaving crumbs all over the fabric of his black pants. At first he tried to force himself to take a bite each time he drank, but soon enough he gave up, not reaching into the narrow pastry box at all. He closed his eyes. The quiet ticking of the clock coming from the hallway annoyed him, when he had hoped to feel something else, or better yet, nothing at all. So he took another sip, and then another, and another..
The room tilted ever so slightly when Kaveh slid down the counter to grab the second bottle, still in search of the sweet relief of nothingness. He left the kitchen without switching off the light, his steps small and unsteady as the space around him kept swaying like a ship in a storm.
Kaveh walked past his bedroom and stopped, realizing his mistake. He inhaled deeply. It would be easy to just walk back a couple meters down the hallway, enter his bedroom, and call it a night. His body and mind seemed to be in disagreement. He pushed the door open into a room that seemed naked in contrast with Kaveh’s own heavily-decorated one. A little bookshelf in one corner, a wardrobe that was twice as narrow in another, a nightstand, and a bed was all Alhaitham had. The walls were white, without a single picture hanging on them. Archons, Kaveh was almost impressed that Alhaitham had bothered to buy a simple ceiling light, and didn’t let an uncovered bulb hang from the cable in the middle of the room. He’d have given Alhaitham a piece of his mind if he had seen his junior’s bedroom before, especially considering that Alhaitham had known where the home decor stalls were located in the Grand Bazaar. The ugly wooden carving that he had dragged into their shared study a few weeks ago was a good indicator of that.
Who was he kidding? Alhaitham would chew his ear off if he entered his bedroom then the way he did now. He made his way to the nightstand, setting the bottle down next to a book that lay there. Then, he felt the sheets. The thread count wasn’t something Kaveh would have chosen, but it made sense given Alhaitham liked the rougher fabric. He then hesitantly lay down, as if the grind of the mattress springs would cause someone to come and shoo him away. As Kaveh timidly inhaled the scent of the sheets, the lingering mixture of sandalwood and pine trickled up his nose. It unscrewed something inside him, and his bitter tears flowed freely until they were absorbed by the fabric.
He spoke to the one who couldn’t hear him. Said the words he should have said weeks, months, or years ago. Hoped to fall asleep before the last syllable came off his lips so as to not hear the inevitable, deafening silence that would be the only response.
“I love you.”
“Did you hear? They’ve arrested more of Siraj’s associates!”
“How’s that possible? Wasn’t everyone already arrested from that Hive base?”
“No, at the time, some of them were detained in the Akademiya, but I thought—”
“Don’t you two have better things to busy yourselves with?!” An annoyed voice interrupted the hushed dialogue, and the two startled Haravatats fled, muttering apologies to Madam Faruzan.
Kaveh found the sight of two beanpoles getting scared off by a smaller and seemingly younger woman amusing. Madam Faruzan looked proud of herself. She headed straight to the stairs that bridged the entrance of the Akademiya with the house of Daena. Frankly speaking, if she was going to stop every conversation discussing the scorching hot news surrounding the Hive case, she’d never make it to her destination, no matter how short her route was. Kaveh and Tighnari watched her figure mix in with the crowd. The sight of her turquoise pigtails soon disappeared completely.
“I haven’t seen the Akademiya this enthusiastic in a while,” Tighnari noted, and Kaveh hummed in quiet agreement.
He tried to not read too much into it. Why should he be a buzzkill when something good finally happened? So what if the crime being solved wouldn’t return a life? The crime was still getting solved. The criminal was getting punished. If it was a little consolation to anyone at all, then Kaveh should be grateful too. He’d grow to appreciate it getting resolved later. He would be glad in a year, when Siraj would still be imprisoned, unlike all the citizens of Sumeru who followed the law.
He just needed to keep quiet. He’d finished giving the morning lecture about half an hour ago, met up with Tighnari after grabbing a few of his belongings in the Kshahrewar wing, and walked to a place Kaveh never thought he’d get to see with his own two eyes. The Sanctuary of Surasthana. The cradle of their Archon sat on the very top of the Divine Tree, only accessible to most Sumerians as a solitary shrine, a small structure resembling a leaf made of white marble, gilded metal and green glass. It was the resolution of Siraj case that made the Lesser Lord Kusanali bless him with an invitation to visit the Sanctuary.
Not that he deserved to be there.
They passed by the Haravatat wing. Kaveh looked to his side, at the simple memorial board standing next to the entrance door. Just a few lines of text Kaveh absentmindedly approved and a portrait, a candle and a few Sumeru roses that were replaced daily. It was the maximum Kaveh allowed after Cyno had a long conversation with him about the necessity of doing at least something in memory of Alhaitham. The board grew from something that bothered Kaveh on a level he couldn’t explain to something that he was used to seeing, even looking forward to seeing on the days he was in the Akademiya. Even though he knew that the board was placed next to Alhaitham’s alma mater only temporarily, when he saw a couple of Matra remove the flowers and the candle, his vision went red.
“What are you doing?” Kaveh yelled, appearing next to one of the Matra in seconds. He couldn’t care less that Tighnari’s fingers grabbed his wrist, or that they were supposed to go to the Sanctuary of Surasthana now. He found himself shaking in rage as he brushed off Tighnari’s hand and yanked the framed portrait out of the young Matra’s hands. He kept a deadly white knuckle grip on it as he continued, “It hasn’t even been forty days!”
“It’s… It’s per General Mahamatra’s orders…” The Matra in question mumbled, looking like a frightened hare, eyes frantically searching for something, or someone. He sighed in visible relief, as another Matra approached, her arms crossed.
“What seems to be the issue?” She asked, but Kaveh was too outraged to even try to explain his issue, the younger Matra’s words pounding in his head.
“Per General Mahamatra’s order?” Kaveh repeated the words out loud in disbelief, turning to the woman.
First he tried to push Kaveh into agreeing to stage a farce of a funeral because, apparently, Alhaitham’s status as Acting Grand Sage required the pomp and circumstance. Then when he agreed to a memorial, they couldn’t wait out the respectable mourning period? Sure, Akademiya was rotten with bureaucracy through and through, but this was a bit too dry even for them, wasn’t it? And Cyno ordered this? Fat chance!
“Yes. The instructions came in this morning,” she confirmed, without a shadow of doubt in her face.
This was a nightmare, or a bad joke, or a mix of both. She didn’t look like she was lying. She couldn’t be lying, she looked way too self-assured. Did he have to take her words at face value and accept that Cyno could have done something this callous?
“Kaveh, let’s—” Tighnari started again.
“Your name,” Kaveh demanded in a hiss, his eyes locked with the woman’s.
He’d see with his own two eyes whether General Mahamatra actually had given out an order like this. If it wasn’t him, and Kaveh sure hoped this wasn’t him, because it couldn’t have been him, he’d gladly tell Cyno how one of his people was making arbitrary decisions like these. He’d be even more glad to see how Cyno reacted to a Matra doing something like this on her own.
“Fidan,” the Matra answered. She had the audacity to narrow her eyes at him, her expression one of tired, sarcastic amusement.
“Kaveh, I said let’s go,” Tighnari’s voice sounded stern, and he pushed Kaveh’s shoulder forward, making him stumble forward a few steps towards the stairs. Kaveh kept glaring. He knew he deserved the lecture on his behavior, but he wouldn’t say he’d act much differently if he wasn’t pushed into action by sheer outrage. He still was aware that he was a total hypocrite, and that he was the first one to chastise Alhaitham for not being softer around the edges or for not caring about anyone else’s opinion. Apparently, he was also the kind of person to get into a loud argument in the middle of the Akademiya hallway with those who had the authority to arrest him. “What are you doing, trying to get into fights with the Matra? This is not healthy at this point, and doing so while we’re on our way to meet our Archon, too? Are you out of your mind?”
Alhaitham would have found the situation humorous. Kaveh’s fingers held onto the portrait even tighter. Tighnari’s hand kept pushing him all the way up the stairs and into the entrance hall. They passed through the door leading to the Razan Gardens, where the bright midday sunlight disoriented him for a good second.
“Everyone is in such high spirits, as though Siraj’s arrest undid everything that happened prior to it,” Kaveh started. “What, couldn’t these jerks have waited the customary forty days before dismantling the memorial? What happened now? Is asking the Akademiya to pay respects to a man who would have been well and alive if he hadn’t taken a position he never wanted to hold too much?”
Kaveh kept walking, until they reached one of the gazebos. Strange. He’ never felt like the elevation here was that steep. He saw to it himself when he worked on the renovations that the ramp didn’t exceed the allowed incline, and yet he was out of breath. Tighnari stopped next to him, observing the outstretched greenery below the Divine Tree, fading into blue on the horizon.
“You, of all people,” Kaveh continued. “I’d see how you’d keep your calm if this concerned Cyno, or Collei. You wouldn’t give a damn who was in front of you, a Matra or the Archon herself. This isn’t fair.”
Tighnari glared at Kaveh.
“None of it is fair. The Akademiya not waiting an appropriate period isn’t fair. Alhaitham’s fate isn’t fair. You having to suffer through this loss isn’t fair,” Tighnari spoke. Kaveh turned, watching his profile, the sunlight casting an overhead light on his features. Then, the Valuka Shuna continued, “But you know what else isn’t fair? The way you keep lashing out at everyone like it will change anything. I know that you’re hurting, but I’m at my limit. I see you digging yourself into a hole, and I don’t know what to say or do anymore, Kaveh. I don’t know how to help. You will have a chance to speak to Cyno after we’re done in the Sanctuary. You’ll have your chance to demand the memorial reinstatement, and I will happily support you there. It’s not like picking a fight with the Matra is how you ever solve anything in this nation, and even if you do, why resort to this when better approaches are easily accessible to you?”
Kaveh swallowed, lowering his head as he spoke. “I do it because I can’t stand this anymore.”
“That much I can see,” Tighnari agreed, urging him to continue.
“It’s really not about the memorial. It’s about… us. You know, when Alhaitham was alive, I kept trying to hide the truth even from myself. You know, you saw me do it.”
Tighnari offered him an understanding smile, and Kaveh reluctantly kept going.
“I wasn’t nice to him. Ever. Well, maybe “ever” is too strong of a word, but I wasn’t nice to him ever since our paths crossed again. When we fought all those years back in the Akademiya, I told him I regretted meeting him. You’d think after he took me in and kept me from crumbling under my debt, I’d apologize for saying those awful words, or at least thank him for doing this life-saving favor for me, wouldn’t you? Guess what? I never did. I acted like I didn’t care. I told him I couldn’t stand his personality not too long ago. When I think back on our interactions, it’s like every time I wanted to be there for him, I instead picked a fight over the stupidest reason I could find. I acted even worse than all those people who never cared, and couldn’t pretend that they did even after what happened to him.”
“I’ve tried to calm my conscience by saying that Alhaitham never cared for the opinions other people had for him, which also means that he didn’t care if my performative disdain was sincere. The thing is that… He still had opinions of other people. He had an opinion about me. And now, whenever I see anything related to him, I can’t help but feel horrible because he died thinking that I didn’t care about him. He died, thinking that I perceived his company as nothing more than a convenient living situation. That he was a nuisance to me. I can’t stand that thought. I just… I can’t.”
Tighnari listened to him carefully, and watched Kaveh lift the portrait to look at it.
“Part of me has accepted that he passed. Part of me simply can’t come to terms with the idea that I never tried to fix our relationship. I thought that the worst thing that could happen was Alhaitham brushing me off, but now I feel like I’d rather have been humiliated, if it meant I didn’t have the weight of all these regrets on my shoulders. Going there makes it all resurface, like it hasn’t been weeks at this point.” Kaveh said.
Tighnari’s hand snaked around his shoulder.
“I’ve only seen Alhaitham a few times, so, take my insight with a grain of salt, but there is something I can share. Alhaitham was a clever guy. I do remember you mentioning that he had an emotional intelligence of a pistachio shell,” Tighnari started to say, and Kaveh couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh, nodding. He continued, “but you’ve admitted yourself that you didn’t always speak fairly about him, right? So I’ll reiterate. Alhaitham was a clever guy, and while your demeanor around him didn’t reflect what you felt in an obvious way, I am sure he could tell that you cared.”
Kaveh nodded. It was little solace, but it was the best anyone could offer, so he accepted it. Tighnari took a step back on the pavement, gently nudging Kaveh in the direction of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. He then urged him to be the first to step inside the green glass doors that opened before them. Kaveh did so.
How does one leave behind all their pain, anger, despair, and sadness when those are the only elements woven into the tapestry of existence at this very moment? The air of the Sanctuary felt different on his face; Tighnari’s steps didn’t even register in Kaveh’s head—he just assumed that Tighnari followed because there was a heavy, dull thud of the door closing behind him.
Kaveh’s breath hitched in his throat. In a smaller cocoon of symmetrical, organic shapes, ones that mimicked the patterns and lines of the larger shell that surrounded them, he saw a little girl on a swing. Even as spectacular as the surroundings were, she was the first image to register in his mind.
“Ah. It finally seems that everybody is here.” The voice was quiet and serene, but it filled the room fully as if echoing off of every shape of the Sanctuary. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Kaveh.”
With every gentle swing forward, a sound akin to the singing of a wind chime rang out. Kaveh took a hesitant step forward, giving the Sanctuary a second look-over. Only then, as he slowly approached the ramp that connected the edge of the platform to the center, did a few figures swim into his vision, standing in front of the stone cradle of their Archon.
Everyone who was supposed to be there had already arrived. He saw Cyno standing to the left, Paimon floating around the Traveler. And next to them was a familiar silhouette. A tall man with a muscled back. The green glow stretching from the center of the Sanctuary to its very edges skewed the color, but Kaveh could make out a greyish nest of unkempt hair, the slightly darker lines of where the shirt hugged his back, and the gilded edges on the gloves wrapping around his upper arms. The cape wasn’t there. It wasn’t all that surprising, given that Kaveh had hung the cape on the tall, mahogany and dark-green velour armchair in the study. The very sight that used to annoy him, provoking one of the never-ending arguments about the owner of the cape tossing things around and never tidying up after himself. The very sight that was one of the rare things to keep Kaveh’s nerves calm these past few weeks.
He hesitantly took a few steps forward. Of course, the headphones were securely placed around the man’s ears, and the gilded details were hanging off the emerald silk accessory decorating the belt pouch, and the leaf pendants that reflected the light. There was no doubt, but this couldn’t be happening, not after everything Kaveh had seen with his own two eyes?
One step more, and he saw a small, understanding smile on the face of the little girl whose green eerie pupils seemed so off on the face of a child. Kaveh wanted an explanation, no, needed an explanation, because unlike the Lesser Lord Kusanali, he couldn’t make sense of the sight that unfolded before him. The tall man turned. The teal eyes stared at Kaveh, making his heart nearly stop.
Alhaitham?
Of course, it was him. Who else could it be? Right there, within arm’s reach, his arms crossed on his chest. There was a familiar itch to scold him. His posture was too relaxed. Couldn’t he try a bit harder, in front of their Archon? If there was any time to at least try and display a little reverence, wasn’t it now? Maybe it was good that Kaveh felt like a fishbone was stuck in his throat.
Kaveh kept walking. Their Goddess was a master of delusion, traveling through dreams and invading bodies of the living. Their Goddess could use her powers to wreck a human’s mind, erase someone’s existence, and even make someone go mad. Their Goddess could create a projection that looked and smelled like Alhaitham, that radiated the same energy, but their Goddess was also merciful. She wouldn’t create an image like this just to tease Kaveh. As detached from human emotion as she might have been, even she would realize how cruel this was, right?
“Oh, do not doubt me,” Lesser Lord Kusanali said, a burst of sweet, silvery laughter in her voice that melted into the air becoming the same with the wind chimes he couldn’t see. “I do realize that it would have been cruel, and I would not willingly subject anyone in Sumeru to a hallucination like this. What, or rather who you see is real.”
“I apologize, Lesser Lord Kusanali. I did not want to start our acquaintance by questioning the kindness of your will,” Kaveh said, surprised to hear his voice tremble as little as it did. It’s not like he was calm. Not at all. Lesser Lord Kusanali’s confirmation of the reality of Kaveh’s vision didn’t help to ease his mind, but he held himself well.
At least he hoped that he did.
Tighnari followed after him, giving Cyno a deadpan glare. Kaveh stood next to Alhaitham, looking at the familiar crook of his nose, the pattern of moles on his face, and the shade of teal in his eyes. He felt ashamed that he had already begun to forget them, as apparently spending years observing the world didn’t make him any better at capturing something so unique in his memory.
He stood next to Alhaitham, and there was the familiar fresh scent of sandalwood and pines. He could feel the warmth radiating from his body. He was so close, that if he moved his han the accessories on his pouch would clink against it.
That was all he dreamed about, wasn’t it? There he was. He stood next to Alhaitham, because once again he got a do-over he told himself he needed so badly. Archons, why couldn’t he even bring himself to look at Alhaitham after that initial eye contact?
“Call me Nahida. It is I who has to apologize. After all, had it not been for my insistence that Alhaitham accepted the position of Acting Grand Sage, you could have continued your lives peacefully, without this disruption. It might be of little consolation given the turmoil I subjected you to by allowing this lie, but this is all in the past now.”
The consolation was indeed little, though Kaveh didn’t blame Lesser Lord Kusanali for it. Oh, they’d get home. This meeting would end eventually, and sometime soon they’d get home and Kaveh would tell Alhaitham all he thought about it. Alhaitham was probably over the Moon that Kaveh couldn’t do it right then and there. Kaveh stared, wanting to find a trace in his roommate’s statuesque face that would have confirmed his theory.
Was it hurt in Alhaitham’s eyes when he turned to face Kaveh? Was there worry, too? Was it supposed to stir anything in Kaveh except for anger and sadness? Was it supposed to make him feel those feelings to begin with? It’s not like he’d given a reason to Alhaitham to think that his life mattered to Kaveh.
It still was unfair.
“You knew, too,” Tighnari sounded outraged. Kaveh turned his head to see him give Cyno an accusatory stare.
“Not immediately. It truly was a murder investigation in the beginning. If it wasn’t for the truth about the Vision that we initially thought was Alhaitham’s coming up, I would have probably continued treating it as such. I’d even say that I was so tunnel-visioned on the murder investigation, that when the Traveler had said that the Vision looked like it didn’t belong to anyone, I didn’t realize what was going on.”
“When the Traveler and I went into the cavern,” Alhaitham started to say, “I had my suspicions that Siraj may have a backup plan in case the first Hive was destroyed. I also knew that there were only so many attempts on my life that I could have successfully evaded. Besides, there was no guarantee that the second time he’d try to kill me, it would happen outside the city. The battle ground would have expanded to include everything. Even my house. That’s not something I’m comfortable with. So I prepared for two scenarios. Scenario one: Siraj gives up. In that case, the Matra would have arrested him and the Hive members, and a normal investigation would ensue. Siraj would have given the Matra the names of the Hive members ranked two-to-fifteen, and appropriate action would have been taken against them. Scenario two: Siraj tries to kill me. I teleport but leave behind my cape, a fake ‘deceased’ Vision, and some blood. The Bimarstan’s blood bank was helpful in that regard. I play dead, while the second sect of the Hive and Siraj get caught, and I’d help to monitor the investigation from afar. Unfortunately, this… More complicated route had to be taken.”
“You should have told us you were alive,” Kaveh whispered.
I am glad you are alive, he meant to say. How difficult was it to try and leave behind a coded message?
Why would he go out of his way for someone who didn’t care, though?
“Ilyas, who Siraj sent my way, had proven one method to be effective: to make your lie believable, you have to believe it yourself. In my case, I had to absolutely sell it to the Matra, the Corps of Thirty, and the Akademiya at large that I was dead.”
“You’ve managed to, that’s for sure,” Cyno nodded. “Again, if it wasn’t for Kaveh going into the Rainforest in hopes of retrieving your body, I would have been investigating the murder till the very end.”
What little Kaveh change could see with his peripheral vision could have been called a reaction, given that it was Alhaitham. His head seemed to have lowered. Did Cyno tell him everything about Kaveh’s questionable attempts to cope?
How embarrassing.
“I will admit I’ve miscalculated certain aspects,” Alhaitham said when he finally spoke. His voice lost the annoying know-it-all edge that drove Kaveh up a wall most of the time. Kaveh was glad for the change, even if it lasted just a moment.
“Oh, don’t dwell on it too much,” Tighnari chimed in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “At least you’ve managed to ‘absolutely sell your death’ to the larger public.”
Kaveh could feel Alhaitham’s eyes still on him. Archons, he felt stupid standing there, still holding Alhaitham’s portrait he’d taken from the memorial, having gone all that way to find a dead man who never died.
“‘Nari,” Cyno said, his voice soft.
“And you. How could you remain silent after you’d figured it all out?” Tighnari asked Cyno with a scathing tone.
“It was a hypothesis that needed confirmation. Say I’d voiced the assumption that Alhaitham was still alive—and he wasn’t. Would it be better for anyone, to be given false hope, then have to relive that devastation all over again?”
“Well, devastation is a rather strong word,” Alhaitham began to say, causing Kaveh’s blood to simmer at the implication of the words that were to follow. Oh, was Alhaitham about to debate semantics now? Thankfully, Nahida intervened.
“Let’s not lose control of our conversation by focusing too much on things that matter little. What we are here for is to clear out some fog surrounding Siraj’s case. All I can say is that I am grateful for each contribution towards resolving this case, and I apologize to those whose lives were disturbed in the process. Siraj no longer poses a threat to the Akademiya, or to the peace of the nation as a whole. Starting now, you all may enjoy your lives just like you did before this case unfolded. As for Alhaitham, I only think that it is fair that this event concludes your duty as an Acting Grand Sage. I expect you to return to your position as a Scribe after the holidays are over. Unless you changed your mind, and are willing to keep the position?”
“I am not. Thank you.”
That was a relief.
“I do have some questions I want to ask,” the Traveler said, stepping forward.
Nahida simply nodded, leaving Kaveh confused. What now? Should they stay? Was it time for them to leave? The atmosphere of the Sanctuary helped him to stay calm, but the bigger world was going to ambush his senses eventually. Kaveh didn’t know if he was ready—no, he was sure he wasn’t ready. A hand landed on his shoulder, the warmth he knew all too well made all the seeds of doubt and disbelief die out in Kaveh’s heart. He found it in himself to look at Alhaitham, as he pointed at the door with his eyes.
The sight was still painful, but Kaveh had no choice. So he nodded, following his lead.
He was the biggest fool alive. What’s worse, he didn’t have anyone he could blame for it.
Things were supposed to feel like they all suddenly fell into place. A silver key joined Kaveh’s gilded one with a Kshahrewar Lion keychain in the turquoise tray. A pair of boots stood next to Kaveh’s new shoes. The sound of water flowing was audible from the bathroom as Kaveh retreated into the kitchen. Tighnari brought him some fish the other day. Apparently, the Forest Rangers had stumbled into someone who’d been fishing in the waters of Sumeru without a license, and had confiscated the entire catch. There was nothing Kaveh had heard that would have supported such a claim, but Kaveh was in no position to be picky. He’d accepted the fish, only hoping that the next excuse Tighnari would come up with would be more believable.
The leftovers of the said fish were in the cupboard, stored in one of the containers. They were enough to feed them both for an evening. Kaveh had no reason to act this busy, hacking away at whatever vegetable he could find, but he hoped Alhaitham’s laziness would keep him far away from the kitchen for the time being. After all, while Kaveh wasn’t exactly familiar with the daily routines of dead men who turned out to be alive, he could hardly imagine cooking being the first thing they’d get to when they just appeared alive and well in public.
Apparently, Kaveh’s expectations were wrong. It’s not like he hadn’t been wrong about many things these past few weeks.
He had that nagging burning sensation on the back of his neck one gets when they are watched. His hand slowed down for a split of a second. He didn’t turn fully, just enough to get a glimpse of Alhaitham’s figure in the door frame in his peripheral vision, then tightened his lips, focusing again on his task.
Archons, wasn’t this supposed to be a relief? Wasn’t this supposed to feel like a weight fell off his shoulders now that the horrible thing that happened turned out to be a lie orchestrated for everyone’s safety? What a killjoy Kaveh was. His vision turned blurry for a fraction of a moment, but he refused to let himself cry. Not like this. Not when he could see it. Not when he was within arm’s reach, and could give an unsolicited opinion of Kaveh’s reaction, breaking down to molecules all the reasons as to why Kaveh’s behavior was hypocritical at best.
Kaveh still wasn’t the only hypocrite. He wasn’t, right? He still didn’t turn to face Alhaitham. He was afraid of many things. He was afraid of breaking down, afraid of not breaking down, afraid of getting angry, afraid to see that stupid, infuriating tightness to Alhaitham’s features that made it look like he felt worried, or hurt, or whatever it was that Kaveh imagined in the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Whatever superpower he got when he stepped into the chambers of their Archon and managed to keep his cool disappeared into thin air the second he was out.
It didn’t help that Alhaitham acted odd.
Maybe if he said anything, anything at all, Kaveh would have snapped at him, they’d argue, and things would have fixed themselves. Except nothing would have been fixed. Their coexistence before Alhaitham did the things he did, and Kaveh reacted the way he reacted had only been possible as long as the shaky foundation of their presumed absence of feelings for each other was somewhat believable. A new status quo that could allow them to keep living together wouldn’t appear out of the thin air. There had to be something. A conversation, perhaps? Archons above, Kaveh loathed those.
Maybe it was easier for Kaveh to find himself a new living arrangement. He was better off now than he was, say, a year and a half ago when Alhaitham had stumbled into him in the bar on that fateful night that resulted in Kaveh finding a shelter. He drank less, and while his debt was still huge, it was more manageable. He could rent a room somewhere in the city. In Gandharva Ville, worst-case scenario. Yes, that would have been more difficult to manage, and yes, Kaveh was now used to some level of comfort. It would have sucked to move back down in life.
How much longer was he planning to keep running from himself? Fuck, he didn’t have the right to feel this hurt and betrayed. He really didn’t.
Kaveh swallowed, his face scrunching as if in pain. It was as if he still had a fishbone stuck in his throat. He heard a few quiet, cat-like steps; felt the presence of a body, warmth right behind his back. For a split second, his grip on the knife had almost gone slack, but Kaveh was quick to readjust it, the sound of chop, chop, chopping getting quicker. How stupid. The non-existent fishbone probed and poked harder, so he cleared his throat.
The pause stretched and stretched, like a bowstring. At some point, the tension would become too strong, and the fingers holding the string would be pressed open, letting the arrow fly free, forcing the shot to be fired. His heart thudded so loud it was in his ears. Someone had to break first. He was oh so tempted to yell at Alhaitham, to demand him to speak up or leave Kaveh alone.
He turned, knife still in his hand, ready to do just that, and was disarmed. Alhaitham broke the silence first.
“Say something. Please.”
Kaveh’s breath was knocked out of his lungs. He stared, and stared, and stared.
I missed you. You should have told me something. How could you disappear like this and say nothing? Did you really think I wouldn’t worry? Thanks to the Seven Archons you’re alive. I’m so happy you’re alive. What an idiot you are, do you have any idea what you’ve put everyone through?
He gritted his teeth.
“I have nothing to say to you,” he finally spoke, and tried turning away, but a grip on his arm stopped him.
“Don’t do this. Come on. Don’t do this. This doesn’t ever happen to you. You always have something to say,” Alhaitham said. It was probably supposed to sound like a demand. Kaveh could have sworn Alhaitham’s voice broke a little.
“You’re one to talk. You may need a refresher after spending all that time wherever you were, but among the two of us I’m not the one who’s supposed to be good with words in multiple languages,” Kaveh argued back. Alhaitham’s grip wasn’t even that strong. Kaveh could have just turned and resumed his fool’s errand. He stayed put for some reason.
“Kaveh.”
“What? What?! If I was told in advance I was supposed to prepare a speech to greet my dead roommate back into the world of living, I’d have been prepared! Let me process, will you?”
Archons, Kaveh was blowing off this opportunity in the most spectacular way possible. So much for honesty, so much for making it clear to Alhaitham that he cared. It took just Alhaitham’s presence before he fell right back into the habits he’d beat himself over mere hours ago.
“Then do it. Process. You’d normally yell at me for doing something stupid, and reckless, and only thinking about myself while at it, wouldn’t you? Do just that. Just don’t be so quiet,” Alhaitham said. Kaveh would normally act exactly how Alhaitham described, wouldn’t he? Alhaitham read him like an open book. He didn’t know which of these thoughts made him sick to his core.
“What if I don’t want to yell?”
Alhaitham let go of Kaveh’s arm, his gaze now directed at the floor. This was unsalvageable. They couldn’t even force themselves to look into each other’s eyes. Kaveh only saw Alhaitham this lost a few times. Such a kid.
“You went into the deep of the Apam Woods to retrieve my body,” He spoke again. If it was anyone else, they’d probably not notice a subtle shift in his voice. Kaveh wasn’t anyone else, though. If he wasn’t going completely insane, Alhaitham did sound desperate. That was the only thing that made the sudden fire Kaveh felt under the skin of his face less embarrassing. “Cyno told me everything.”
“Yes. Yes, I did. I couldn’t stand the idea of you being lost somewhere in the Hive base,” Kaveh cleared his throat. Odd. He was given yet another opportunityto turn away, to end the conversation. He didn’t, and, moreover, he continued it in a way that killed any chance for him to come off as someone impartial. As someone who was just a compassionate citizen. Even the most compassionate citizens wouldn’t go this far. Alhaitham carefully tilted his head; Kaveh tried his best to not look away. The surreal teal that couldn’t be replicated even in an artist’s memory stared right into his soul. His hollow confession to the walls from days ago finally echoed, and rang loud in his ears.
“You did that, and you got so ill that Tighnari had to carry you on his back all the way to Gandharva Ville,” Alhaitham continued. Kaveh squinted.
“Your point?”
“Then,” Alhaitham continued, ignoring the question, “you apparently fought a Matra for dismantling my memorial before the forty days were up.”
“That was just disrespectful,” Kaveh whispered, latching on to the opportunity to preserve at least some dignity. “What citizen of Sumeru wouldn’t have been outraged to see their Acting Grand Sage disrespected?”
“It seems that every single one of them wouldn’t. At least none would have gotten outraged enough to act on it.” Kaveh could have sworn there was this microscopic change, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of Alhaitham’s lips. He wanted to feel like he could laugh, too. He wanted to feel like he wasn’t too vulnerable, too exposed, like Alhaitham wasn’t mocking him for once.
Asshole.
“I wish I could find this as humorous as you do. I suppose I would have if I was the one who watched someone else make a total fool of themselves, though,” Kaveh hissed, finally returning to his task.
“I don’t think you made a fool of yourself,” Alhaitham said. His voice shouldn’t have been soft. He shouldn’t have taken this for an invitation to step closer. He definitely shouldn’t have placed his hand on Kaveh’s shoulder. His touch was ginger, as if Kaveh was made of some fragile material. “You didn’t know.”
“You would have saved me from embarrassment if you just said something. Archons… Why didn’t you tell me anything? Why?!”
“I thought you’d be safer if you bought the story. I miscalculated. I’m ready to admit that I have. I’m sorry.”
Kaveh frowned, ignoring the way his heart had skipped a beat. It was nothing big. Sometimes the oddest things would happen. Not a single snowflake would fall in the winter from the clouds in Snezhnayan sky, renowned Akademiya scholars would swear on their lives and their Archon that they’d seen Aranara with their own eyes, Alhaitham would apologize after messing up. They stayed silent for a few moments. Alhaitham had more words, but Kaveh cut in before any of them could come.
“It does make me happy to hear you admit that you’ve messed up. I still want to ask you something. Why the farce to begin with? I know you’re more than capable of coming up with intricate plans, but I also know you. You never hide. You never strategize in a way that puts your safety at the forefront. If anything, your life is the biggest gamble in many of your plans. I’ve seen you neglect your perfect talent to communicate with words like a normal human being to fight like a child instead more times than I could count. What happened now? Why is a potential face-off in your house a problem now all off a sudden?”
“Why ask questions you know the answers to?” Alhaitham retorted.
“Is the pot calling the kettle black, now?” Kaveh snarled, but there was no true bite. He hummed, repeating Alhaitham’s words. “What was that thing you said? “The battle ground would have expanded to include everything. Even my house. That’s not something I’m comfortable with.” You would have been prepared for a potential ambush. You would have been expecting it, even, and you would have been fine with it. That way it would have been over so much quicker. You wouldn’t have to cut communication with Cyno and, by extension, the Matra. You wouldn’t have to trust everyone to come to the same conclusions with you, to wait for things to fall magically into place.”
Alhaitham said nothing, so Kaveh kept going, aggravated.
“This is the most stupid plan I’ve seen you come up with. There is a certain portion of luck that’s needed for any operation to be successful, but this one? It’s on another level. It’s success relied almost fully on everything coming together without your control, or help. Sheer dumb luck. Do I think too highly of you by expecting you to have another motive to act the way you did? A gamble you couldn’t risk in all the better iterations of the plan. Something.”
“Maybe I’ve learned to trust people,” Alhaitham said too defensively for Kaveh to buy it.
“Maybe you have, but a grand change like this wouldn’t have occurred overnight. Maybe if you did, you would have at least given me a courtesy of letting me know you were alright. How many people in Sumeru know that language of Deshret’s era we’d learned for our thesis? Other students who joined our research initially didn’t. It would take a sentence to let me, and nobody else know! Trust people? You’ve learned to trust people? You didn’t trust me with keeping my mouth shut, and I sure hope I’d be in the circle of those you trust, as your… roommate. What was this very important thing you could have lost if you chose a more sensible course of action and didn’t pretend you were dead?” Kaveh raised his voice.
“You.”
For what it was worth, this made Kaveh stare at Alhaitham, wide-eyed. He had a hunch, or, rather, a childish hope. Hearing Alhaitham confirm it, using his own words hit in a way Kaveh didn’t expect. He attentively searched Alhaitham’s face. A trace of deception in the teal eyes, an off-placement of a mole, indicating that this was a stupid drunken dream, just like Kaveh suspected it was. He found nothing he looked for. Just Alhaitham, as honest as he could be, save for the little indignation, the oh-so-Alhaitham “how do you not comprehend something this obvious?” frown.
“You wouldn’t have been prepared for an ambush. You wouldn’t have been fine with it. You could have been hurt. One thing you haven’t considered in your masterful comparative analysis of my previous plans with this one is the fact that none of them could potentially affect, or hurt you. I thought it was easy enough to understand,” Alhaitham’s words caused Kaveh’s brain to short-circuit. “Maybe, it wasn’t. Me taking your safety into the equation must feel as jarring to you as your reaction to my… well, death feels to me.”
Kaveh put the knife down.
“Can we talk properly now?” Alhaitham asked, his voice losing some of the annoyed tone.
What was there to talk about anymore? Kaveh brushed his tongue against the edge of his teeth, thinking hard. Somehow, the two of them only managed to mess everything up as badly as possible when they talked. None of the things Kaveh thought he’d want to say to Alhaitham were said. Weren’t they true anymore?
Did it matter that they were spoken? Kaveh was bothered that Alhaitham didn’t know that he cared, but he now knew that Kaveh cared a whole lot. Alhaitham, apparently, cared a whole lot as well. He cared enough to put additional obstacles to his end goal to make sure Kaveh would come out of the entire mess unscathed. Kaveh did, didn’t he? Well, not Kaveh’s pride, and not if Kaveh remembered about the few nights he had to spend in Gandharva Ville. Not if he thought of the crate of wine he downed in a week or so, either, but those were all little things. All collateral damage of Alhaitham not predicting that Kaveh would be this affected.
How could he predict it? Kaveh’s reaction was jarring, as Alhaitham put it.
Jarring.
“I honestly don’t understand you sometimes. How did you expect me to react , Alhaitham?” Kaveh said quietly, a non-answer to Alhaitham’s question.
“I don’t know,” Alhaitham shrugged, his posture more relaxed. “Maybe, you could have rejoiced in the fact that you had the house all to yourself now, and—... Hey…”
Kaveh’s head dropped. Not like he was surprised that this was what Alhaitham said. Usually, Kaveh would have stormed out, said something biting. Alternatively, he would just call Alhaitham an idiot and move the cutting board over to show that the dinner was on Alhaitham now, and Alhaitham likely wanted to provoke one of these reactions, something that would result in them bickering, the ice breaking, things going back to normal. Kaveh would be oh so glad to bite the bait, but he couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” This was a dream, a sick, twisted dream, because there was no way Alhaitham was apologizing to him again. “I’m so sorry.”
Fingers wrapped around Kaveh’s wrist, moving his palm away from his mouth. He was pulled into a hug, strong and tight, warm dry lips pressing against his cheek. It’s been so long since they did anything like this it simply couldn’t be real, so Kaveh didn’t respond to the hug at first. His hands trembled lightly. If he hugged Alhaitham back, was there any guarantee he’d remain there? His arms felt real enough. Kaveh wrapped his hands around Alhaitham, the feather-like touch turning into a viciously desperate grip in a matter of seconds, and his head turned just a little, his nose brushing against Alhaitham’s.
Real. He was real, he was right there. There was a faint smell of coffee on his breath, and his skin felt hot. Kaveh could trace a unique pattern between his moles, with his fingers, or with his lips. Just like when he was a kid, and the math textbook would have that one ‘connect the dots’ exercise that Kaveh was all too eager to get to.
Alhaitham was real. Wasn’t fate weird? A redo like the one Kaveh got was a one in a million opportunity—multiply that million by ten, given how misfortune seemed to be Kaveh’s only companion for years. A chance to close the distance between their lips, and kiss Alhaitham, sweet and deep. To feel his large, warm palm cup Kaveh’s cheek, as Alhaitham responded, feeling the light scratch of his stubble Kaveh didn’t notice initially.
To finally hope and plan that one day, they’d take that trip to his grandma’s summer house in Port Ormos, and drink some scorching hot tea on a hot summer’s day, as horrible as it sounded. To share a hammock together in an old garden. To know that they’d get to share a few dozens more walks back home in comfortable silence, that he wouldn’t hesitate to hug Alhaitham the next time he lashed out, that when he got courage to tell Alhaitham ‘I love you’ again, the response wouldn’t be silence, but his familiar voice saying it back.
Alhaitham pulled away. There was a frown, like he was busy questioning the reality of what was going on as much as Kaveh did. His hair was a mess, his breath hitched, shirt wrinkled where Kaveh grabbed it. Did Kaveh go too far? Did Alhaitham still need to talk? Fuck, what’s gotten into Kaveh? Alhaitham just hugged him, that was it, Kaveh couldn’t just throw himself at his junior like this. Kaveh had plenty of time to contemplate and understand his feelings, but they were just that. His feelings. Not Alhaitham’s. Alhaitham was busy dealing with Siraj’s case, after all. His entire world didn’t narrow down to dissect every interaction they’ve had in the past year and a half. Kaveh took a step back, half-formed apology in the back of his throat, but Alhaitham did something Kaveh wasn’t prepared for. Alhaitham’s hand pulled him back, another pressing on the nape of his neck, making their lips clash again.
Kaveh sighed, the spike of cold, sticky anxiety dissolving almost entirely, replaced by something warm, something Kaveh couldn’t quite define, not when he was busy kissing Alhaitham and lacing his fingers through Alhaitham’s hair.
He hated how in that moment where everything came together perfectly, when all his troubles seemed to have disappeared, he still felt a pang of fear, the dull ache that weakly tugged at him, trying to shift his attention from how right it felt to finally find himself in Alhaitham’s embrace to all the horrible what ifs, possible future losses and uncertainty.
Still, when Alhaitham broke the kiss once more and didn’t pull away entirely, keeping their foreheads pressed together, and Kaveh heard him huff out a rare smile, small but genuine, everything seemed to be perfectly fine.
Kaveh allowed himself to believe that, even if it only was for a second.