Chapter Text
The world started noticing Kaveh for his brilliance right after he first approached the gray-haired Haravatat junior in the library.
It was not as though his professors hadn't already affirmed his choice of darshan, not with his powers of spatial awareness and manipulation making it the right—no, the only, choice for him. The Akademiya did not restrict entry to darshan by the prospective students’ powers, nor by their blood. A star mage could, if they desired it, just as well have applied as a student of Kshahrewar as Kaveh could. It was just difficult to deny the sheer advantage that a space mage such as he had over someone who was more predisposed to reading the stars. But art did not discriminate, and the teachers taught their students all the skills required to become competent, if not successful, creators: engineers, architects, inventors. Whether they would go on to pursue these professions full-time upon graduation was dependent on the student’s talent, powered or otherwise. After all, there were only so many space mages in Teyvat, and not all of them chose to pursue architecture.
All that is to say, the way Kaveh's talents aligned with his interest worked well in his favor, earning him recognition among his teachers and his peers. But not beyond.
At least, not until Alhaitham came into the picture.
When Alhaitham entered his life, the whole world suddenly noticed him. When Alhaitham entered the same frame as him, the world’s gaze swiveled to him.
Kaveh himself was too busy to notice his new fame. He was too busy, focusing on the debate at hand, the interesting discussion they were to have when they met next.
Rarely did any conclusion ever come of those interactions, save for one: that they were equal and opposite. Always pulling the other toward themself, always pushing the other away, yet always in equilibrium.
Then, Alhaitham left his life. But the world's attention did not. Kaveh suddenly realized that the world was looking at him. It was a little unsettling. How had he never noticed before? The world watched as he graduated, top of his darshan and of his class. What would he do next? Kaveh took it in stride. He knew he had the capability to live up to the expectations now heaped upon him, space mage and Kshahrewar.
And now that he was free of distractions, he could focus on the space, warped by the gravity of Alhaitham no longer.
Light of Kshahrewar , they called him.
His magnum opus, the Palace of Alcazarzaray, had risen to meet the expectations of its commissioner, and of the world. It drew praise from far and wide, and it was as though all the spotlights converged on Kaveh.
But Kaveh needed no spotlights now. He had exuded his own brilliance from even before the Palace’s conception. The Palace only served to prove to the world that he was deserving of its attention. Only then, did they finally acknowledge that he shone on his own merit.
Only now did Kaveh grant himself a moment of pause. He had delivered, lived up to expectations, and most importantly, proven that teamwork and aestheticism were not antithesis to productivity and practicality. The world approved. Even Alhaitham could not deny his achievement anymore.
It was not like he was there to do so, anyway.
Now on his tenth pint of the night, Kaveh's world was beginning to spin. Figuratively, of course, for his enhanced perception of space could never allow him to view it as anything different than what it truly was. Up was up, down was down; things that were there were there, and things that were not, would not be.
So, when the space before him bent into a not-unfamiliar, not-unwelcome shape that he never thought he would ever see again, he believed that he had found the tipping point at which alcohol finally affected his psyche enough to affect even his subconscious powers over space.
“Kaveh.”
It was that same voice, but Kaveh knew could not trust his senses anymore.
“G’way.”
It took the last shred of his soberness to rein in his powers of manipulation and not throw the illusionary mass away from him. Even if it were an illusion, there was a person there, just not the one he wished were.
“You're drunk.”
“Th’nks, I hadn't no’iced,” Kaveh retorted, then giggled. This was exactly how they communicated, back then. How ironic that he was doing this now, at his highest and simultaneously his lowest, with a figment of his imagination.
“Well, I noticed.”
“O’course ya did. Ev’ryone no’ices. Ev’ryone's lookin’t me. I thought… I thought they… I thought you wo’dnt find me… here.”
“You cannot hide from me. But I can hide you from the world, and I have. See for yourself.”
Kaveh raised his head to look around.
His companion had not lied. For the first time in years, Kaveh was free of the world’s watchful eyes. Everyone around was enjoying their night, nobody sparing a glance in his direction. Even though it was a party set up in his honor, they carried on celebrating the Light of Kshahrewar, looking for him, but never at him. Searching for him, but never finding him.
Kaveh was now free to be himself. Hidden in plain sight, the object of a single source of attention.
He knew at once, whose attention he had drawn.
“Please, hide me.”