Chapter Text
Kaveh knew his mother had tried her best to raise him, she did everything she possibly could after his father's disappearance. Kaveh found it admirable how well she was able to parent a child like him all on her own. He had so much love for his mother and he knows deep down that she had cared for him too at some point. He just finds it difficult to remember that time of his life.
He remembers the day his mother told him he was moving to Fontaine like it was yesterday. He had thought life was going well for them, he had been enrolled under Kshahrewar at the Akademiya for about a year when his mother dropped the bomb on him. Two weeks later, she was gone, leaving behind their home, some belongings, and her only child. Kaveh had kept a brave face for his mother, not wanting her to change her mind because of him and his feelings. As much as he didn't want to part with his mother, he knew that he needed to let her go and find her own happiness. Since his father's disappearance, he hadn’t been enough for her. The hole that his father had left in her heart was too great for Kaveh to fill. It was two years after that that he received a letter from her letting her know that she had been seeing a man for a while and that they were now engaged.
It had been over ten years since his mother moved, over a decade since he was left alone in his family home. For the first five years, he and his mother sent letters to each other every two weeks like clockwork. Even if nothing big happened, it still brought Kaveh comfort to know that his mother was doing well on her own. With each letter received though, Kaveh couldn’t help but think his mother only sent letters as much as she did for his sake. He wondered if she even wanted to hear from him sometimes.
His depressing thoughts rang true when eventually the time between his mother’s letters grew longer between each one. Kaveh still sent a letter her way once a month, now that he was an adult with a real job it was harder to make time to write stuff down as frequently as he used to, he still wanted his mother to think his life in Sumeru was going well. However, nearly four years ago now, Kaveh stopped receiving letters altogether. Despite still sending his own, Kaveh hasn’t heard from his mother in years. When he spiraled, he would panic and think that she must be dead or maybe she moved and didn’t bother telling him? He would quickly realize how illogical that was. Surely if she had died or moved, his letters would have gotten sent back to him or the new tenants would have sent a message his way urging him to stop sending them unwanted letters.
He tried his best to live life not knowing anything about his mother. He thought he was doing well when one day, he finally received a letter.
It was one of the rare days when Kaveh had to head to the Akademiya to get some paperwork done for a job. He was sitting in one of the Kshahrewar study rooms, giving some new students some tips while waiting for approval on his latest commission, when a Vahumana student hesitantly slipped into the room.
“Excuse me?” they shakily asked, “I’m wondering if any of you know where I can find the Light of Kshahrewar?”
Kaveh looked up from the student’s work he was holding, “You’re in luck,” he laughed, “I’m right here. What can I help you with?”
The Vahumana student strode across the room and held something out to Kaveh, “The main offices received a letter addressed to you. It seems the sender only knew of your Darshan, not your personal address, and took the liberty of sending this letter directly to the Akademiya. I’ve been tasked to hand out the random mail the Akademiya accidentally receives so here you go.”
Kaveh placed the blueprint down on the table and took the letter from the student, “ I see. Thank you.” he smiled, “I’ll make sure whoever this is gets my correct information so this doesn’t happen again.” As the student left, Kaveh peered down at the envelope. There was no sender's name on the front, only his own and the address of the Akademiya. He flipped it over and nearly fainted when he realized where this letter was sent from.
“Mr. Kaveh?” one of the students timidly asked, “Are you alright? You look a little pale.”
Kaveh cleared his throat, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I need to go now.” With that, Kaveh grabbed Mehrak and sped out of the room. The letter he received was from Fontaine, but Kaveh couldn’t understand why it hadn’t been sent to his home, or why the sender didn’t leave a name on the envelope. Panic was settling in his stomach as his mind raced with what this could possibly mean.
Kaveh raced out of the Akademiya, down past the home he shared with Alhaitham, and sometimes Cyno and Tighnari, and made his way out of Sumeru City. He trekked north until he found the solitude spot nearby the Palace of Alcazarzaray he often went to when he felt overwhelmed. As he sat down, carefully placing Mehrak on a nearby tree stump he pulled the letter out of his pocket. His hands shook as he stared at the envelope, trying to find any resemblance in the handwriting to how he remembers his mother’s being.
Kaveh took in a shaky breath and whispered, “Let’s get this over with.” Mehrak softly beeped next to him, their own way of offering comfort. Kaveh’s hands trembled as he turned the letter over once more and gently peeled the envelope open. He slowly unfolded the paper inside and began reading.
“Dear Kaveh of Kshahrewar,
You may not know who I am. My name is Claude.
I met your mother when she first moved here from Sumeru and soon after we started courting and eventually, we married. Your mother was a mystery to me when we first met. She told me little of her past, only said she needed a change of environment and that was why she moved to Fontaine so late in life. I knew next to nothing of her life before coming to this land.
This never bothered me. I was happy to know her as she was in the present, I had thought her past would mean nothing to me. I knew she received letters from Sumeru, but she never spoke of them and I assumed they were from old friends and acquaintances. Oh how wrong I was.
It saddens me that I have to tell you this over letter. I wish I could make the trip to Sumeru but, at this time, that is impossible for me. Perhaps one day, we may meet in person. Either in Fontaine or Sumeru, or anywhere else for that matter. I’d love to tell you anything you’d like to know and, if you’re up to it, I’d be grateful to learn more about what your mother was like before I met her.
It pains me so to write this, but I must cut to the chase. You must be wondering, why is my mother’s husband writing to me after all this time without having ever met?
In truth, I knew nothing of your existence until recently. Faranak never made any mention of her late husband or the son she left behind when she moved to Fontaine. However, Faranak fell ill a few months back. A few weeks ago, while slightly delirious from the medicine, she cried to me about how she had been lying to me. She told me everything. How your father died, how she raised you alone, how you followed in her footsteps to become an architect. She also told me how she left you and how she eventually stopped replying to your letters. She said she knew how much pain she must be causing you, but her desire to let go of her life in Sumeru was too great to keep up the facade of a loving and caring mother any longer.
She passed away from her illness two weeks ago today, on April 17th. I know this letter will take much longer to reach you and I apologize greatly that you are receiving this horrible news so late. Before your mother passed, she tasked me with having something made for you. She and I both knew it wouldn’t be the apology you deserve, but after I talked with her, she agreed it was best that you, as her son, be given a piece of her upon her passing. In this envelope, I included a necklace. Inside the pendant is a portion of your mother’s ashes.
I cannot speak on your mother’s feelings for you. I wish I could confidently say that she loved you unconditionally and regretted everything she had done wrong by you, but that would be me telling a story we both would know is untrue. However, I found your letters to her a few weeks back and it is clear to me that you still have so much love for your mother, despite everything. I hope having a piece of her can bring you some comfort.
I am deeply sorry for your loss. I wish you and your mother had had a chance for a happier ending.
If you wish to write back my address is 37b Brook Court in Fontaine City, though I understand if you don’t.
If you ever find yourself in Fontaine, or if I find myself in Sumeru one day, I hope we can chat over some coffee.
Best wishes,
Claude.”
The letter slipped out of Kaveh’s grasp as he sobbed into his hands. His mother was dead, gone from this world, just like his father. Mehrak beeped aggressively nearby, using its limited abilities to try to help its owner, though it was futile. Kaveh continued to sob his heart out for his mother, for his father, and even for himself. The weight of this news was too much for the fragile architect to bear. After years of pent-up feelings, Kaveh finally started to break.