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Kaveh is a man of art.
He is constantly creating, trying to reach his own ideals, yet unable to act on them nonetheless. Why must artists always be failed perfectionists?
Some people want to have an enormous talent when it comes to art, but when he hears the word ‘talent’ being used to describe him, conflicted feelings mix inside his head, creating a muddy concoction.
On the one hand, it feels as though people are ignoring all his hard work, his shattered nerves in that way. It feels degrading, discrediting. Like someone not looking at the facts, at the story behind all his work, but just at some sweetened reality of ignorance.
On the other hand, however, it means he did his job well and his work is viewed as one of a talented man. Thus, he should be happy. He should feel like he accomplished something. But then, why doesn’t he?
Unfortunately, in art there is no such a thing as ‘talent’ . An artist is never talented. Talent is a myth. The more an artist adores art, the more he struggles — misunderstood, never able to express himself enough ( well enough). And the more an artist struggles, the more cursed he is, and as the curse grows, it becomes apparent that the artist has sold his soul to a devil that eats at him, pulling the toxin-laced chains around his limbs. And the devil has many names — be it perfectionism, motivation, dreams, desire, passion. The toxins feed the artist frustration to no end because the devil knows things not of this world, therefore he’ll never be satisfied enough.
Art is dangerous.
In Kaveh’s life, it might have taken a literal meaning — the fact that most artists die young or kill themselves (it’s all the devils’ fault; the vile creature of no body; the bane of an artist’s life, feeding on his ideas, ideals, and ambitions) aside, it did lead him to a debt, after all.
And he enjoys all forms of art. He seeks it in his day-to-day life, and it all feeds on him to no end like a poison, a parasite, polluting his glorious mind.
He loves art with his whole heart (a slave seeing freedom, opportunity, salvation in a cage).
All his hobbies are frustrating him lately. He keeps getting sudden ideas and immediately wanting to act on them. They bring motivation to his life, it feels as though they grant him purpose, but only for a while. Without art he’d be aimless. He’s certain.
One such idea was to make a bracelet. A relatively simple idea, seemingly out of nowhere. The idea took over his thoughts almost entirely. Picturing how it could look made his heart flutter in excitement.
It could complement his earrings. It’d be such a small thing that probably nobody would even notice it appearing on his wrist one day, but still — he deemed the idea amazing. Something that would make him happier. Just like his houses make others happier. Maybe not as much because a bracelet can’t be comparable to a house .
Jewellery.
It’s such an interesting way to express oneself. Even though this form of art requires a lot of precision, it shouldn’t be an issue for him at all (he made Mehrak, which should be enough proof of how capable he is).
And so it starts.
He goes to the Grand Bazaar and looks for the necessary things. He didn’t think it’d be as difficult as it’s proven to be. One of the main issues is that he can’t find the corals of the exact colour he seeks.
He switches between a few stands, hoping that one would finally have what he needs (and at an acceptable price).
When looking at some tiny crystals that have caught his attention, despite being pretty much useless to him, he hears a shuffle on his side. Turning his head to the side, he spots red hair. Of a shade that can be connected to a quite infamous person.
Nilou.
“They’re really pretty,” she states, unprompted. “I didn’t expect to see you looking at such small trinkets here, Kaveh.”
Of course Nilou would be here. That’s no surprise at all, although he can’t say he knows her well. He can’t find the time to watch her dance either. He’s only seen her a couple of times and briefly talked with her. Unfortunately.
“Ah, I’m just looking for some— interesting decor.” He tries to give her some valid excuse or sound nonchalant about the situation, but he might well be failing to do so.
Why is he giving Nilou an excuse instead of being straightforward? It seems like not a big deal, but the mere thought of somebody finding out about his idea fills him with embarrassment, even though there’s really nothing weird about art of any kind.
He would know.
But what he doesn’t know for sure is what ornaments such small pieces would be used for. He hopes she won’t question it, though.
And she doesn’t. She simply hums in acknowledgement. “I imagine it’s going to look nice.”
“It sure is,” he agrees, smiling subconsciously at the thought of making a nice bracelet. A pretty form of self-expression.
“Well, I know we aren’t really close, but I’d like to see the outcome,” she proposes. “If I could, of course.”
“Sure,” he finds himself saying because how could he refuse? How to go about fulfilling the promise will be a problem for the future Kaveh.
Nilou suddenly looks to the side, and Kaveh, following her gaze, spots some people waving at her. She smiles gently at him and announces, “Well, I’m off— I have a show tomorrow and things won’t organise themselves!” She doesn’t even give him a chance to bid any farewells. His eyes follow her retreating form.
Kaveh makes a quiet promise to himself to finally watch her dance someday.
Maybe even tomorrow.
Now that Nilou has left, he continues his search for the small jewels and shiny rocks of those specific shades. And, of course, he doesn’t find them, having to settle for some other colours and shapes. He had to find ones that would fit his budget, but despite them not being perfect, he left the Grand Bazaar feeling content with the small purchase.
The weather only served to amplify Kaveh’s good mood with its warm sun rays staining his face. He hums to himself while carrying the materials in Mehrak.
While traversing the streets back home, he hopes not to bump into any more familiar faces, though. Come to think of it, there shouldn’t be anything unusual about trying out some relaxing manual activity which some people even do for a living. Yet, still, it’s him . It surely must be a weird thing to do when it’s him .
The whole trip back from the Grand Bazaar had him filled with a bit of nervous energy, keeping him on his toes the whole time. (He was mostly looking out for Alhaitham, though. Unreasonably so because he was working at that time. Still— better to be safe than sorry. If that saying even applies in this situation)
Upon reaching home, Kaveh immediately beelines for his bedroom. Luckily, today he made sure specifically not to forget his keys. Otherwise, he’d still be stuck outside. Met with the terrible fate of Alhaitham finding out about his new idea.
Not dwelling too much on the ‘what if’ s, he sets everything down on his desk and gets to planning everything out. Well— there isn’t much to plan out because he knows exactly what he wants the bracelet to look like.
After a very brief contemplation, he grabs a string and puts the first crystals through it. Every three of them he makes small knots and changes the colour, dividing them by a long white ornament.
Yet, frustration builds up inside his chest, spreading to his limbs, making his sloppy work even sloppier and jerkier.
For some reason .
He’s no stranger to precise manual work, so then why? Logically, he knows everything requires practice. He doesn’t like it when people call him talented, but he still expects to be good at a form of art that he just picked up because— because what?
That’s such a damn paradox.
He looks down at the bracelet in his hands. It’s almost finished. Full of lost potential, money. And motivation.
The crystals are loosely hanging at the end, not yet put in place. But they— something is off about them. Maybe it’s the knots. Maybe one is bigger than the other.
Yes, that must be it.
There’s no way to quickly fix it though.
The motivation just evaporated out of Kaveh’s body almost as if it’d never been there to begin with (a bout of creativity lost— just an art-less husk left in its stead). But if it were never there then he wouldn’t feel disappointed. Frustrated. Angry. Defeated.
But he’s not upset. Just… hopeless. Tired. Crushed by the reality. All he does is sigh and leave the bracelet in the corner of his desk (he’ll worry about it later; he’ll finish it someday). He puts the jewels inside a random box for now and—
goes to his bed and lays down on it.
End of story.
Well, not exactly the end of the story. Because, of course , the cycle must continue. Not too much later at that. Because just one day later Kaveh goes to watch Nilou’s show, just as he promised himself.
And it certainly is not disappointing. He never expected dancing to look so—
He could say beautiful, but it’d be too obvious. He could say nice, but it’d be too bland, and he could say magical, but that’d be overtly cliché. There are simply no words fitting to describe those moves. It feels like they’re speaking outside of any bounds of non-verbal language. They’re a story, a spell, a conversation, a thought, an expressed idea, an abstract concept brought to life through abstract means.
His eyes must have been sparkling all throughout it.
Obviously. Dancing is an art. As beautiful as all of them. If not more.
But still— it felt like a new flower bloomed in his mind, bringing a new idea to his mind along with new life. It’s spring all over again. It’s time to wake up and do something new, try to live a bit more once again. (as if his current life is boring; as if it couldn’t ever be enough; as if that idea would solve every single one of his issues, even though he knows it won’t)
And the flower smells so beautiful and tempting as Kaveh can’t help taking it into his metaphorical hands and accepting its temptation.
And he can’t help but—
“Nilou,” he says after the show has ended.
Her surprised face speaks for itself (just like her dance moves— she’s embraced them so much), but she still says, “I didn’t expect you to come watch me today.”
“Well,” he starts sheepishly, “I decided to see with my own two eyes how magical your performances are.” Soon he adds, “And, honestly, words could not describe them at all.”
While speaking with Nilou, he can’t ignore that characteristic surge of adoration and motivation that floods his mind and heart all the same. Not exactly for her, but for what she’s capable of— the work she’s put into her craft. Kaveh would call her talented, had he not known better.
Trying out dancing couldn’t hurt, right?
But asking Nilou, on the other hand, would be way out of his comfort zone. Yet… learning to dance on his own would be even more of a disaster than his last attempt at making jewellery.
How should he go about this then…
“Listen— I have a request,” he says, hesitantly; as if the words burn his mouths. “But I’d like you to keep it a secret,” Kaveh adds quickly. (begging for mercy in his mind)
Nilou turns around and looks at him questioningly yet curiously. She was probably about to go and talk with other people after thanking Kaveh while he zoned out. “If I can help then I’ll try. How terrible is it, though, that you want me to keep it a secret?” She asks Kaveh jokingly.
He exhales slowly, preparing himself mentally for proceeding with another one of his impulsive passion-induced idea. It’s such a paradox to feel a lot of passion when thinking about something you’ve never done before.
“Could you teach me how to dance?”
“Teach you— how to dance?”
“Yes.” He confirms it calmly despite his heart squeezing with nervous energy and making it fill his whole body as it travels in his blood.
“Sure- sure, I can,” she agrees, taken off guard but smiling nonetheless. “I’ll be honest, you surprised me a bit with that one,” she laughs.
They did their little lessons whenever they both could find some time. Usually at night, when most people were asleep, so Kaveh didn’t feel the need to check every corner all the time, worried that someone might see him (because of course they’d do that near the city and not inside; Nilou insisted on dancing there because of the even ground).
Moreover, Nilou didn’t mind staying up a bit longer once in a while and Kaveh didn’t have to worry about Alhaitham getting suspicious. After all, it’s quite normal for him to go to the tavern at night, so there’s nothing unusual about his behaviour. No threat of ending up in an embarrassing situation.
And drinking after some more demanding physical activity was even more relaxing.
It’s been 3 weeks since their agreement. They’ve met about four times by now.
Kaveh came to enjoy Nilou’s company. It’s not surprising as she’s easy to talk to, yet, for some reason, he’d never expect this to happen.
Today, though, is Saturday. Alhaitham is staying home and Kaveh wanted to give him some peace (he surely would not help him relax; he’s certain that even the mere sound of his breathing would mercilessly distract him from his oh so lovely books). Thus, he has left the house and decided to roam around the city, looking for something interesting to do.
Somewhere along the way, he spotted Nilou. And she suggested a small practice. And, well, why shouldn’t he agree? He was bored anyway.
And dancing is quite fun.
But a new issue appeared.
It’s daytime so there are many people loitering around the city, so they can’t possibly do their lessons anywhere here. Because of that small (huge) problem, Kaveh decided that they should dance somewhere in the forest where there wouldn’t be many people. There must be places far away from the paths that would be secluded and safe.
They fortunately have found one.
Nilou agreed to do some simple moves here despite her worry about the rocks and sticks on the ground. It’d be so easy to trip on them, but she chose to trust Kaveh to have enough spacial awareness.
Right now, Nilou is showing him what to do. And she looks so happy, full of life when doing it. She clearly enjoys dancing. It’s clearly what she’s meant to do. Even the sun seems to be shining more brightly when she moves to the silent rhythm, approving of her actions.
Kaveh can’t help thinking he shouldn’t really dance. He’s already an architect, and a good one at that. Obviously, he’s meant to make houses, maybe draw something else from time to time if he wishes to do so, but why would he go on and make jewellery? Or dance? For what reason would the universe ever want him to do that?
He’s not meant for this.
He’s not supposed to be doing this.
He sighs, feeling that slimy feeling enter his chest. It’s like acid in his heart, then lungs, and finally in his ribcage.
The animals (why must they always flock to him so much?) sitting by his feet look over at him as if sensing his negative feelings.
But when Nilou asks him to try repeating what she just did, he does so as if no doubt has ever crossed his mind.
“It’s going to be difficult with these little creatures by my side,” Kaveh laments a bit annoyedly while rolling his eyes, though.
He stands up and tries to convince himself that he will do well. With the same arguments that he did when he was making jewellery because maybe this once his existing skills will pay off in another field of art.
But then again, why does he struggle with coordination so much? Or does he just focus too much and tha——
In a second, he loses all focus, knowing only that his heart is about to break his ribcage (still with a bit of acid left on it). Next thing he knows he’s on the slightly wet grass and his foot feels… weird. It’s a numbing, throbbing kind of pain and he doesn’t dare move it.
Nilou immediately appears beside Kaveh, her hands hovering over his silhouette, her expression speaking silently of nothing but worry.
“Are you alright?” She asks with a sense of urgency.
“Yeah - it’s fine - nothing major. Just some scratches,” he reassures her, ignoring the fact that there are no visible scratches on his body.
And with that, he goes to stand up.
And stand up he does, but he clearly clenches his jaw and doesn’t fully touch the ground with his both his feet.
“Ka—”
“It’s just a twisted ankle. It’ll be gone soon.”
It doesn’t help, though, as she still seems willing to argue. So Kaveh relents and gets and idea as he spots her Hydro Vision and gets an idea.
“Use your Vision to wet my hands,” he points at the shiny orb attached to her side and she looks at him as if he just grew a second head.
“But I’m not a healer. You know that, right?” Nilou asks, sceptically.
“Just trust me.”
And she hesitantly takes his hands in hers, calling forth some Hydro, after he sits back down. After doing so, she questioningly looks at his face, searching for some semblance of an answer.
“What now?”
He simply smiles reassuringly at her and causes a bloom reaction on his palms, successfully creating a Dendro Core, which immediately makes Nilou look at him alarmedly.
“But they hurt when they burst—”
“I can use them for healing, don’t worry,” he says calmly while putting the Dendro Core on his ankle.
And she looks like she doesn’t quite believe him, which he can’t exactly blame her for. Until he uses more Dendro to pop the Core and gains no new injuries.
This is what finally makes her let Kaveh walk back to the Sumeru City on his own. What she doesn’t need to know is that the Core was apparently barely enough to fix his twisted ankle wholly. So the entire way back was long, slow, and a bit difficult too.
When he finally reaches home, he heaves a sigh of relief— glad that this long trek is over.
Well, that is until Alhaitham opens the door and looks intently at his silhouette retreating to his bedroom. Because, of course , he’d notice.
“What happened to your leg? Did you trip on the pavement?”
That would be his best cover up story, even if it’d give Alhaitham a reason to chastise Kaveh for being too careless once again. He finds himself unable to confirm that theory because how could he ever throw himself basically under his blade, asking to be cut?
On the other hand, he’d be very dumb to tell him the embarrassing truth. That is only between him, Celestia, and Nilou.
Alhaitham lets out an exasperated sigh. Despite getting no confirmation of his theory, he continues, thinking Kaveh is simply too ashamed to agree with him. “Seriously, if you didn’t have your head stuck in the clouds then maybe—”
Except Kaveh is too exhausted to protect his dignity right now. So he just goes to his bedroom. (Well, perhaps beforehand he showed Alhaitham his middle finger and received and incredulous look in return)
But when he finally reaches the bed, he begins to think about the recent events. And the bracelet hidden on his desk is taunting him with its sole existence.
He thinks about Nilou. How perfect she is with so much experience, maybe she is just talented? Maybe talent really does exist?
And he’s not talented at all. Maybe that’s what it is.
He’s too old to learn anyway. He’s even so clumsy that he’d tripped on a rock.
And thus he decided to drop this.
The talk with Nilou was a difficult one. It left him feeling crushing guilt. Because it felt like lost friendship, even though he subconsciously knew it wasn’t the truth. Nilou wasn’t mad (there was mute sadness in her eyes; artists wear hearts on their sleeves, but dancers talk with their bodies for a living - it’s all too visible, he swears), she would still talk to him (it was him who didn’t stay around after announcing defeat).
He decided never to pick any other hobby up. Or at least not to invite any other people into his new interests, ideas or whatever because it’d only make them upset when it inevitably doesn’t work out because he keeps hoping too much. He gets blinded by the light of the spring embracing his heart and mind.
Oh, what a surprise it was when he got proposed with an idea.
By Lumine.
To try and play a lyre.
Kaveh is sitting with her, in the middle of a forest, remembering the days spent practising with Nilou. He feels gloom wash over him like foamy waves of sea. He is looking at the grass beneath him, playing with its strands similarly to how the guilt is playing with his thoughts.
A nice sound reaches his ears. He knows where it came from. Its source is right next to him. It’s the instrument in her arms. He’s seen it countless times in the streets.
“I enjoy playing it when travelling. It makes the view all the more beautiful,” Lumine remarks semi-quietly. “Sorry,” she adds after a while, “it’s unlike me to be so poetic,” her voice fades away along with the strumming, a thoughtful expression appears on her face despite the small laugh that slipped through her lips not too long ago. “Would you like to play some tunes? It’s some kind of a tradition for me to let everyone play a few notes.”
Kaveh truly doesn’t wish to repeat the past mistakes, but he wants to make her happy and it’d be just so easy to do exactly that.
“Sure,” he says after a while of consideration because now he really is certain (he is not).
He gently accepts the instrument from her hands, carefully holding it lest it breaks in his unsure grip. He’s never held an instrument in his entire life. Surprisingly.
He worries he’s going to offend Lumine’s ears with the sounds he’ll create with the lyre’s strings. He doesn’t want the Nilou situation to repeat.
He looks down at the thing and puts his fingers on the strings, clearly unsure of what he’s doing (maybe a bit afraid to mess up too).
“This is the simplest, try it,” she encourages Kaveh, leaning forward and showing him the strings he’s supposed to strum for the melody to come out.
And he does try it. It sounds clumsy and uneven but it’s not that terrible. He can’t say he hated the sound of it. All it would require is simple practice .
Oh, how he’s grown to hate this word practice.
At least he’s precise and Nilou taught him more rhythm. The only issue is remembering the order of the strings. Nothing too difficult.
Lumine cheers, “Congratulations for playing your first melody!”
And he can’t help smiling in response.
“Want to try another one?”
“Why not.”
And he does mean it. Playing a lyre is unexpectedly fun.
The next one is just as easy, but he keeps mixing up the sounds he’s supposed to play. “Maybe I should’ve stuck to practising the first one for now,” he says sheepishly. “It seems my brain isn’t too good at memorising all of this so quickly.”
And logically, he shouldn’t feel this frustrated. But, nonetheless, he does. Of course he could play the first melody— it was the simplest one. Even a desert fox could play that one, he bets. He’s nothing special. As always. Why would he be special at something he just started doing? And why can’t he just understand that simplest of concepts?
"That's normal. I learnt to play lyre fairly easily, but I know others aren't as quick to take in new information."
She reassures him and it feels condescending. As if she knows that he has trouble with self esteem and accepting the smallest failures of his. It just makes him feel worse.
Why can't he be like her— fast to understand everything and able to hone the skill soon after?
“Well, it was nice trying it out anyways,” he says, trying to change the topic, to bring their attention away from his failure.
A thoughtful expression spills across Lumine’s face. She leans forward, her head in her hands as she looks down at the grass. Kaveh wouldn’t know what she’s thinking about even if his life depended on it. Thankfully, it doesn’t. But maybe it would be better if it did. He doesn’t know if he should ask.
And he doesn’t. He chooses to wait.
He doesn’t have to wait long anyway.
“I could lend you the lyre for a few days.”
“Lumine, there’s no need.”
He can feel the nervous energy somewhere in his limbs and chest. He shouldn’t be so alarmed, but if Lumine lent her souvenir from Mondstadt to him, it would feel like a waste. Something useless. Unnecessary. At least she can play it and he has no need for learning such a skill. Giving him any instrument would be so counterproductive.
“Kaveh, I have many instruments— drums and zithers. It’s no big deal to me. Just take it.”
She pushes the instrument into his hands, but he tries to give it back to her anyways. She pouts but doesn’t insist on it anymore.
Good. That’s how it should go.
A few days later, while he’s in the house, there’s a knock on the door. He wouldn’t even approach the door were it not for the sound of Lumine’s voice coming from the other side.
So, he goes to open it for her, but when he does so, he’s greeted by no one. The only thing there is a lyre with a red ribbon on it. And he screams internally.
Lumine really gave him no choice. He either takes it or Alhaitham will find it when he comes back and question him about it. Well, he could always play dumb, but is the possibility of another argument worth it? Nope. Totally not. Too tiring. He’s too tired for this.
So he took the instrument to his room, intending to hide it somewhere later. So it may never remind him of his silly ambition again.
But for now the bracelet making parts and the lyre on his bed will be a reminder of all his failures and wasted opportunities, time and money. Not to mention all the people involved in this.