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“We need to appoint the new sages soon.”
The stack of books on Alhaitham’s desk seemed only to continue piling up, a never-ending loop of finishing a book and putting a new one at the bottom of the pile. The papers in front of him were relatively untouched, his handwriting scribbled about on referrals, official documents, and proposals from all over the Akademiya.
“Scribe Alhaitham, we’d like to ask if you’d wish to be the Grand Sage.”
Despite being a profound strategist, Alhaitham is not a leader. He does not wish to be in the spotlight, nor does he see himself to be adept in guiding others. Why the Akademiya believed him to be the best candidate for Great Sage after Azar’s corrupt leadership, he doesn’t know. He already has enough paperwork on his desk, of which seems to only grow with each passing day.
Without Lesser Lord Kusanali guiding them, the Akademiya surely would’ve collapsed into ruin by now. It’s thanks to her efforts and his work that it hasn’t delved into complete chaos. By now, the work’s starting to take its toll on him.
“I do not wish to be the Grand Sage. I am not a leader, therefore I would be unfit for the role. I much prefer working as a scribe.”
The dark bags under his eyes have never felt heavier, weighing him down while he struggled to keep his hand moving. His shoulders were slumped, back hunched over, head held down. Any attempt to correct his posture, to move just a little, would be met with his body’s immediate refusal. The words on the papers in front of him were starting to blur and mesh together, leaving a garbled mess he couldn’t read. Even his own handwriting was illegible.
His room was growing dark with the setting of the sun. Kaveh wasn’t home yet, still out on some business trip asked of him by the Akedemiya. The silence was nice, he’d admit, but uncomfortable at the same time. Any second, he could pass out, and Kaveh wouldn’t be there to wake him up.
“With all due respect, Scribe Alhaitham, you are our best candidate. There’s nobody else who could fulfill the role better than you-”
“I’m not interested.”
He felt a wave of dizziness, the hand holding his pen trembling. He dropped the pen, placing both hands over his face with his elbows on his desk. Alhaitham let out a labored breath, straining to keep his consciousness intact just a little longer. Just long enough to finish this last sentence. It was pointless.
He’s worked himself too much this time.
Alhaitham lost his strength, his head hitting the desk while his consciousness slipped through his fingers like grains of sand from the desert. The inkwell on his desk toppled over and spilled ink over his paperwork, his pen clattering to the floor next to him. He didn’t hear the door to his apartment open, and a dramatic exclamation from his roommate signaling his return.
He didn’t hear footsteps approaching his study, and the complaints that escaped Kaveh’s lips at the sight of him knocked out cold on his desk with a temperature a little higher than average.
He didn’t feel his body get picked up and flung onto Kaveh’s back.
He wasn’t going to wake up for a few hours.
When Alhaitham finally opened his eyes, the last thing he expected was to see Kaveh sitting at his bedside with a book in hand. Though Kaveh was also a scholar from the Akademiya–and his senior, at that–he was never as interested in texts as Alhaitham was. That much was obvious after their meeting in the House of Daena. What struck him as odd, however, was the cold, damp washcloth placed neatly onto his forehead. That was new, did Kaveh do that for him? Or was this just another lucid dream?
“You…! Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused me this time?!” Kaveh slammed his book shut, looking at Alhaitham with narrowed eyes.
Any small chance that this was just a lucid dream brought on from the termination of the Akasha was crushed then and there. Kaveh was very much in front of him, and very much irritated. As always.
“Quiet down. You’re giving me a headache,” Alhaitham hissed, narrowing his own tired eyes at Kaveh.
“I come home from my exceedingly boring business trip,” Kaveh continued on, ignoring Alhaitham’s complaints, “Only to find you passed out on your desk with ink spilled everywhere. Do you know how long that took me to clean up?”
“Oh, I could only imagine.” Alhaitham offered him a look that screamed “I don’t care.”
Kaveh wasn’t done. “Not only that, I had to drag you all the way to your room! Where’s my thank you?”
If a headache wasn’t in the picture before, it definitely was now. “Need I remind you that you’re staying in my house? I don’t believe I need to thank you for anything.”
Kaveh looked absolutely livid at that. It was almost amusing watching him get offended before proceeding to shout at him for whatever he decided to do that day. It seems his actions irritate people like him more often than not.
“I should have just left you at your desk! It seems my acts of kindness are unwanted here.” He stood up from his seat, leaving his book in his spot.
Something about the way Kaveh looked almost… Disappointed at his refusal to thank him struck him as odd. Did Kaveh actually care about him that much? He stared, watching Kaveh walk closer towards the door to his bedroom. Thinking to himself, waiting more, he spoke.
“Kaveh, wait,” He called out, watching the blond-haired man turn to look at him.
“Oh, what could it be this time?” He asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
“...Thank you.” That was all he needed to say for the light in Kaveh’s eyes to become apparent.
He grinned, a smug grin that told him he may as well have made a mistake, “Well, it seems I’m appreciated after all.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Alhaitham warned, narrowing his eyes at him once again.
“Whatever you say, Alhaitham. Get some rest, I’ll be back later with some food.” Kaveh’s back turned towards him, the door opening and closing just as quick.
Get some rest, yeah right.
Alhaitham thinks he’ll do the exact opposite, if only to irritate Kaveh just a little more.