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One of his earliest memories resides within a sea of flowers, nested deeply between the vestiges of a boundless, burning sky and the tender embrace of fragrant petals at his feet. In that time, careful vines still curled around each flower’s stem, leading up to the sweeping tree that hovered massively above, its branches and leaves providing loving shade from the everlasting sun. Beside him, his mistress softly placed a hand on his cheek, her touch a soft, sweet, and sacred blessing, as her other hand gently weaved through his hair.
“Tell me, my child, have the sands and forests been kind to you?” she asked him.
He blinked up at her. His mistress’s beauty had always been radiant, nearly blinding, yet in her hold, he had always felt safe, like a small bud that had yet to bloom, petals gradually unfurling beneath her cultivating warmth.
“They’ve been alright,” he answered. “I wish to learn from them.”
She smiled at him, “You are a special child, Alhaitham. You are unlike any of the other Jinn I have created, and I am delighted to watch you flourish. But I also worry that this means your existence will be a lonely, solitary one.”
“Isolation is peaceful, is it not?”
She closed her eyes in thought, and a mourning flower blossomed at her side, “Someday, when I no longer roam this world with you, I hope that you will find someone who loves you and whom you love equally in return. There is so much love in this world, and it is both strikingly terrifying and warmly comforting.”
“Why do you have to leave? Can I not come with you?”
His hands back then were still small, devoid of any strength or scar he would later accumulate, still so delicate and young. Slowly, he wrapped his little hand around his mistress’s thumb, stubbornly encompassing it within his hold.
“No, Alhaitham. This time, I will have to go to a place where you cannot follow.”
“Why?”
When the Goddess of Flowers opened her eyes once more, she turned her face up towards the all-consuming light of the sun, not once flinching at its luminosity and heat, “Because I love him.”
“Then,” he asked her, wondering why she stared so devotedly at something that could burn her leaves and wither her petals, weakening her stems until she could no longer hold herself to face upwards at it—
“—what does it mean to love someone?’
Kaveh sighs, absently gnawing at his lip. This isn’t good. Quite dreadful, in fact.
He’s currently part of an expedition team that has been assigned to survey and study the ancient ruins of Gurabad buried deep within the heart of the Desert of Hadramaveth. Akademiya-sponsored expeditions to the Desert of Hadramaveth are extremely rare, so as soon as he was informed of this expedition, he’d been entirely enticed by the promising allure of ancient architecture that has yet to be unearthed for human study. After all, the last time the Akademiya sent an expedition there, let alone to the ruins of Gurabad, was many, many years ago. How could he refuse such an opportunity, especially after having been personally invited as an honorary representative of the Kshahrewar Darshan?
If Kaveh had known, however, that the expedition would ultimately culminate in him becoming lost and separated from his team members while running low on both food and water within an exceedingly complex maze of crumbling ruins that could collapse on him at any given moment merely because one of his team members decided what a wonderful idea it was to activate an unknown mechanism out of curiosity, he may have thought twice before agreeing to this expedition.
“What a mess,” he grumbles to himself under his breath. When he gets out of here — if he gets out of here alive, even — he’s definitely going to file an adequately passive-aggressive complaint to the Akademiya’s administration demanding that all expedition members must be properly educated and trained on how to interact with ancient ruin mechanisms prior to any approval of joining.
In the midst of his spiraling thoughts and pounding headache, Kaveh hears a sudden crunch beneath his feet, much like the sound of foliage being stepped on, and swivels down to observe the ground.
“How strange…” he mutters.
Unlike the previous, uncountable chambers he found himself in prior to this, the ground here is interspersed with large, winding crevices from which bright green leaves and twisting branches burst forth between the cracks. He frowns in confusion. Foliage — here? Deep underground in a desolate desert ruin that has been largely untouched for centuries? Has he gotten so dehydrated already that he’s beginning to hallucinate?
Follow the path.
A gentle, ethereal whisper floats into his ear, almost like an ephemeral tendril of smoke curling around his neck and pulling him forward to where the path of leaves and greenery beckons. Kaveh jolts into movement as though entranced, compelled to obey despite his delirious, hungry, and dehydrated state. As his feet trudge forward, he briefly touches his cheek. For a moment then, it almost felt like the voice was speaking right beside his ear.
Follow the path and find me.
Before he realizes it, Kaveh finds himself in a large underground cavern, right where the ruins of the ancient building fall away into the earth. Unlike anywhere else in the ruins, the cavern is filled with lush greenery and softly glowing flowers, their stems reaching upwards at his feet as he walks forward. In the midst of the cavern, illuminated by a small crack in the surface far above that invites a sliver of moonlight to descend like a translucent curtain, is a small, floating bottle. The bottle is exquisitely detailed and elegant slivers of gold wrap around its transparent frame. And to Kaveh’s utter surprise — he’s certain he must be hallucinating at this point — there appears to be a small person inside the beautiful glass bottle.
“You are in quite the predicament for a human,” says the small person inside the bottle to him.
Kaveh blinks, and the tiny figure blinks back at him, piercing turquoise eyes languidly opening and closing, as if it is simply any other typical day.
“I, uh, you,” Kaveh swallows through his dry and painful throat, “the bottle can talk, and it’s talking to me.”
“He is talking to you, indeed,” the little being hovers closer to the glass barrier of the bottle, peering up at Kaveh in consideration. “I haven’t seen a human in many centuries, but they certainly didn't used to look as terrible as you do right now. What is your name?”
“...Kaveh. My name is Kaveh.”
“Kaveh, you appear to be injured, dehydrated, and disoriented. I surmise that you may have gotten trapped in these structures as a result of activating one of the defense mechanisms that have been placed here to protect the ancient records. Is this a sound conclusion?”
“You’re… you’re correct, but – I’m sorry, what are you?”
The figure flutters around the bottle’s confines, angling his head from side to side to scrutinize Kaveh’s features. Unsettled, Kaveh shifts his weight from one foot to the other, all the while trying to determine precisely how his mind decided to conjure such a unique and novel hallucination. He’s certain he’s never dreamed of little people in floating glass bottles before.
“You’ll do,” the little person says to him, crossing his arms. “I am a Jinni, and I would like to propose that we make a contract. I will save your life from coming to an abrupt end through starving to death in this place, and in exchange, you will become my master whom I will serve until the end of your existence, thereby freeing me from my previous contract which has bound me to this place for the past centuries.”
A Jinni. Kaveh has certainly heard tales about the Jinn before — an ancient race that served the Goddess of Flowers as her loyal spirits. According to the cultural survey they conducted at the nearby tribes prior to entering the ruins, Kaveh was told that the Jinn were born from “the intoxicating dreams and the bitter memories of loss” of their goddess and that they are capable of granting any desire their master wishes with the consequence of one day facing the fearful vengeance of the Jinn for striking such a pact. Kaveh had assumed that these were merely fanciful myths passed down through generations in order to deter the locals from entering the dangerous ruins. Never did he think he would encounter one himself.
“W-Wait, my team members,” Kaveh wills himself to say. “I didn’t come here alone.”
“That is fine. I will save them as well. Then, do you agree to this contract, Kaveh?”
Kaveh stares in contemplation at the little person who has held out a hand at him through the bottle before the ache in his shoulder, gashes on his limbs, and dryness of his throat remind him of his current desperate situation. Surely, even if he is dreaming, there isn’t any harm in trying.
“I agree.”
As Kaveh nods cautiously in confirmation, he catches the faintest view of a flickering, momentary smile on the Jinni’s face — relieved, inviting, and laced with an exhausted thread of sorrow. He has a fraction of a heartbeat to think to himself what a beautiful sight it is before his entire world bursts into a blinding, enrapturing white, and he finds himself falling and falling.
When Kaveh wakes up, he discovers that he is outside, lying on the ground at the entrance to the ruins of Gurabad. Around him, his expedition team members slumber peacefully in similar positions, bodies scattered about but otherwise unharmed. His own injuries, too, have miraculously disappeared from his body. Was it all just a dream? Some sort of a mass hallucination as a result of exposure to an unknown desert plant or environmental factor?
The round bottle in his hands definitively says otherwise.
Kaveh peers down at the unconscious Jinni in the bottle, his small frame gently rising and falling as he rests in silence within his transparent cage. In Kaveh’s grasp, the bottle emits a dim, eerie glow.
Resting upon a chair in the comfort of his home, Kaveh gazes contemplatively at the bottle in front of him. Without the slightest hints of noise, the bottle hovers in the air right above where he has his hand placed beneath it. Inside, the little Jinni remains oddly dull and silent, eyes closed and body lax against the glass walls. If not for the tender rhythm of the Jinni’s chest rising and falling along with his peaceful breathing, Kaveh might have mistaken him for a small toy figure.
“Can you hear me, little one?” Kaveh says, inching his face closer.
No response. He sighs, leaning back against the chair’s frame.
Following the events with the Jinni in the bottle, the desert expedition came to an abrupt, uneventful end. The “official” story documented in the reports is that Kaveh had discovered a way to escape and undo the triggered mechanism, found the bodies of his teammates who had all collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration, and carried them out of the ruins before collapsing himself. Aside from a few minor scratches and bruises, the entire team came out relatively unscathed, which was odd considering that Kaveh remembered he’d definitely dislocated his shoulder and badly injured his ribs from a bad fall when the mechanism was first triggered and the ground suddenly gave way beneath his feet.
Of course, the Akademiya will be suspending any further expeditions to the Gurabad ruins until they are able to better comprehend and anticipate the hidden mechanisms and traps as the ruins are now deemed to be too dangerous for further exploration. Inwardly, Kaveh laments the fact that he lost the notebook he’d been using to sketch out some of the ancient architecture there sometime during the fall.
“I didn’t even get the chance to thank you,” he says to the unresponsive, sleeping Jinni inside. “What am I going to do with you?”
The Jinni’s long eyelashes wisp against his cheeks as his long gray hair pools around him like a cascading waterfall, curling around the bottom as trapped currents with nowhere to flow save for its bare, bottled cage.
Kaveh lets out a deep, tense breath, deciding that he’s had enough to ponder about for the night. As he turns to retire to his bedroom, he carefully takes the bottle into the warmth of his hands and carries it with him, meticulously aware of the precious cargo it holds. When he falls asleep that night, it is with the bottle placed carefully beside his ear upon the pillow, and he almost thinks he hears a serene whisper before descending into the dark embrace of sleep.
The first thing Kaveh feels is a gentle, caressing breeze upon his skin and the faintest touch of a flower petal falling onto his cheek. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself staring face to face with a beautiful, ethereal man, his long strands of gray hair fluttering about between them as he gazes down at Kaveh with a knowing and strangely familiar gaze.
The man’s beauty and allure are like nothing Kaveh has ever seen before – palpably inhuman. Behind him, an unmoving, perpetual sunset casts a delicate light around his silhouette, encompassing him like the endless fields of flowers that encircle their bodies. Here, in dreaming, the air tastes sweet, and the fragrance of a bygone era wafts into Kaveh’s nose, devotedly mumbling unknowable promises in a language he does not recognize.
“Kaveh,” the man says to him, and the sound of his name falling from those elegant lips reminds him of the twinkling of little bells on a dancer’s costume, clear and precise.
The man places a hand on Kaveh’s cheek, leaning in closer and closer until he can feel the man’s breath on his own lips.
“Thank you for setting me free,” he says to Kaveh.
Captivated, Kaveh's eyes remain frozen wide open, and he forces his voice out from where it was lodged speechlessly in his throat, “It’s you…”
The Jinni tilts his head to the side, moving even closer still until Kaveh feels the cool touch of his mouth pressed against Kaveh’s ear. And in a slow, graceful voice, the final thing he hears is the Jinni whispering a chant in an ancient language that Kaveh is strangely now able to comprehend.
“My true name is Alhaitham. Hold this true name of mine, and I shall do whatever you, and only you, desire. With this, we are now bound as master and servant until the end of your days.”
“Do all humans normally sleep this much, or are you just an odd one?”
At the sound of a rich, smooth voice right by his ear, Kaveh is abruptly shocked into waking, to which he is immediately greeted by the sight of a very naked — and well-endowed — chest owned by a very attractive man who is lying on his bed next to him beneath the covers.
“W-W-Who–!” Kaveh stammers, falling right off the bed and dragging the covers with him, which unfortunately reveals more and more of the sight of the naked man he woke up with. “Who are you and how did you get inside my house!”
The man amusedly raises an eyebrow at him, choosing not to move from where he has made himself fairly comfortable on Kaveh’s bed, “I suppose you are just an odd one, then.”
“What does that even mean! No, wait — you’re…” within several rapid seconds, Kaveh scrunches his face in confusion, then in contemplation, and then finally in astounded realization, “You’re the Jinni! And you’re — you’re normal-sized now?”
“I am quite concerned for my master’s psychological well-being if he has already forgotten something I told him mere moments ago,” the Jinni languidly props his face up with his hand, his movements all relaxed and graceful like a bored cat despite being in another man’s bed while completely unclothed. “Do you not remember? My true name, the name that has bound me to you, is Alhaitham.”
“I… I thought I was dreaming.”
“Yes, you certainly were dreaming, but that is how I was able to communicate with you. The sacred pact between a Jinni and its master necessitates that the fabric of our minds has been weaved together, connecting elements such as our dreams into one.”
Kaveh frowns, “But weren’t you in some sort of a hibernating state before this? And in your small bottle, too. Why do you now…” Kaveh trails off, cautiously averting his gaze to the floor and far, far away from the man in his bed, “…look like that?”
“Does my appearance displease you? I can shift into any form that you desire if you wish to use me in that way, Master Kaveh. Would you prefer the appearance of a young dancer or a noble concubine? Or an alluringly dangerous bandit, perhaps?”
“No!” Kaveh immediately responds, pulling the covers he dragged with him up to his face in order to conceal the vivid flush now blooming across his cheeks. “Have you no shame?”
The Jinni — Alhaitham — scoffs lightly, “I am a Jinni. Frivolous things like shame, embarrassment, or propriety do not exist within our realm. I only exist to fulfill my master’s wishes, whatever they may be.”
“Well they should!” Kaveh straightens up, bringing himself up to his feet. “Jinni or not, everyone deserves to have a choice in life. And just to make this clear, I do not know what sort of experiences you’ve had in the past, but I’m not that sort of man, Alhaitham. If anything, I wanted to thank you for saving my life in those ruins.”
Alhaitham blinks at him, considering his new master from head to toe in his rumpled, unrefined sleepwear and disheveled bed hair, before he swiftly turns away, “It’s nothing. I was merely fulfilling my end of our contract. Although because my power has diminished over the centuries, I was much weaker than I anticipated and needed time to recover after expending my energy on saving you and your allies from the ruins as well as healing your injuries. That is why I slept in that state inside the bottle for a few days before I could finalize our pact.”
Kaveh steps closer, wary in his movements as one would be around a wounded animal, “So, this is your true form then?”
Alhaitham turns back around to meet his eyes, and Kaveh remembers the first time he happened across that piercing turquoise gaze, beckoning him to follow. And him, besotted.
“Yes, you are correct.”
Sighing, Kaveh brings a hand up to massage his temple. This is his life now. Master to the ancient awakened Jinni, Alhaitham. How utterly characteristic of him to stumble from one strange predicament into another.
“Let's start by getting you some clothes.”
“Master Kaveh—”
“Just Kaveh is fine, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham pauses for a moment, staring at him incomprehensibly as though Kaveh has grown a second head.
“Kaveh,” he tries again. “What do you require of me?”
“Ah, I suppose… could you pass me that drafting pen over there?”
Kaveh only manages to complete a single line of ink before he hears a loud clatter beside him, and when he looks up from his working table at last, he finds that a pile of multiple pens have unceremoniously manifested upon his table. A nervous chuckle leaves his lips, “I didn’t mean this many, but uh, thank you.”
Alhaitham nods, now fully clothed and somewhat settled in after having spent a few days growing accustomed to this new life. Regardless, Kaveh can feel the way Alhaitham has been restlessly hovering over Kaveh, watching over his shoulder with mild curiosity and quiet unease as he repeatedly flits between Kaveh’s side and peering around the study while observing the books and sketches haphazardly lying around. Kaveh has commissions he needs to work on and clients awaiting his response now that he’s returned from the desert expedition, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t aware of the new resident in his home and his aforementioned strange behavior.
“Do you… need something to do?” Kaveh finally asks, shifting around to face the Jinni he’s found himself contracted to.
“That depends on you, M—” Alhaitham halts, correcting himself, “—Kaveh. Do you not require me to work on something on your behalf?”
“Not particularly, no. I didn’t really anticipate your… presence here.”
“Is there not some sort of desire that you want me to fulfill for you?”
Kaveh taps his pen against his cheek once in thought before he catches himself. He really needs to stop doing that habit of his. If he shows up to another high-profile client meeting with ink stains on his cheek, he might just combust out of embarrassment.
“I have desires, sure, but they’re not anything that I need other people to do for me. I am working towards goals I have for myself, and I am content with that,” he tells Alhaitham, who — despite his outwardly composed appearance — holds himself with a certain air of wariness and confusion. Maybe it’s a form of culture shock? Alhaitham did say it has been many centuries since he’s last seen a human. “I suppose I should be the one asking you that question. You told me you were trapped in the ruins of Gurabad for several long centuries. Now that you’re finally out, is there anything that you want to do?”
Alhaitham opens his mouth to speak before closing it in reflection and then opening it once more, “I’ve never had the opportunity to consider that.”
Kaveh frowns, concerned, “What have you been working towards in your life, then?”
“To fulfill the desires of my masters, and,” Alhaitham pauses, absently toying with a stray lock of hair in his hand, “to live peacefully without annoyances.”
Kaveh chuckles, “Sounds rather monotonous.”
“Yes, I believe that would be rather nice — to have a monotonous life.”
In between his musings, Kaveh spares a glance at his sketches — a design for a potential expansion of Port Ormos’s old lighthouse, ideas for a client seeking to build a new private educational center for orphans, and sketches of a potential collaboration with the Amurta Darshan to build another greenhouse facility. There is so much of the current world that Alhaitham has yet to see since his time in the ruins.
“Why don’t I show you around Sumeru as it is now? I’m sure many things have changed since your time. Perhaps then you might find something that you want to do or be. In the meantime, I’ll think about any wishes I might like you to grant for me,” Kaveh says, smiling at the flakes of light dancing in Alhaitham’s eyes. Objectively speaking, Alhaitham truly is very pleasing to look at. The mythical stories of the Jinn and their alluring beauty truly do not exaggerate. “Is there somewhere you’d like to start?”
Alhaitham’s gaze flickers to the rows of books upon Kaveh’s shelves, scanning across the titles and covers.
“Does this current city of yours have a library?”
Kaveh beams at the question.
“The House of Daena is currently the largest library in all of Teyvat,” Kaveh explains, bringing along a silent and wide-eyed Alhaitham with him, who studies the view of countless books that crawl up to the ceilings of the intricately designed interior as if he’s entered a temple, presented with an altar of worship. “You’ll find books on essentially any topic here, ranging from academic texts to mythical legends.”
“And is anyone able to access these books?” Alhaitham quietly wonders aloud, already approaching the shelves to take a closer look.
Around them, various Akademiya students and researchers sneak glances at the odd pair — Kaveh the Master Architect and Light of Kshahrewar strolling around with a never-before-seen beautiful man whose charm and voice are so delightful that one finds it incredibly difficult to look away. Kaveh sniffs. How typical of this place, filled with nosy students and even nosier researchers.
“Sure. Only Akademiya students, teachers, and graduates are allowed to borrow the books here, but anyone is welcome to enter and read the books while they’re here. I’m an Akademiya alumni, so if you’d like to borrow anything, I can help you with that.”
In hushed fascination, Kaveh observes as Alhaitham pulls several books from the shelves, eagerly flipping through the pages in spite of the seemingly aloof expression he wears.
“Did you have libraries like this back then too? Before the fall of Gurabad, that is.”
“Yes,” Alhaitham’s fingers ghost over the spine of a book with a majestic purple cover that depicts a floating glass bottle not unlike his own. “After our mistress fell into a deep slumber in the Eternal Oasis, all of the Jinn who served her pledged our loyalty to the Lord of the Sands, confining ourselves within glass bottles to live a life of servitude designed to power the kingdoms and cities he ruled over, where our mistress’s legacy persists.”
A faraway look settles upon Alhaitham’s eyes like the slow-moving descent of a morning mist, clouding the prior luster with the haze of past memories and centuries of solitude.
“Throughout the countless desert cities that rose and fell over time, the Jinn were assigned to different roles for various purposes. There were those who controlled the raging sandstorms and others who managed the endless water flow to the cities up until one by one, all the desert cities eventually succumbed to the sands,” Alhaitham’s eyes distractedly scan over the pages of the book in his hold as he speaks. It’s almost as though he is recounting a life not of his own but a distant fairytale. “In Gurabad, I presided over all the ancient texts, serving as the sole record-keeper for the sacred languages to keep the flow of knowledge continuously alive. Back then, many libraries were built in honor of our mistress as well. However, when Gurabad was destroyed, I found myself sealed within its ruins as I no longer had the strength to sustain the city’s functions, and its secrets and texts, too, became lost to time.”
Kaveh watches as a hardly noticeable, tired smile unravels on the Jinni’s face, and the stark reality is all at once revealed to him that he’s currently speaking to a being who is far older than him and who has seen numerous dynasties in both their golden ages as well as their final moments.
“Perhaps it is for the best that fragments of such an era are now gone,” Alhaitham says, closing his eyes for a fleeting moment. “There is no practicality in clinging onto things that have long since passed.”
“If you choose not to linger on the past, do you instead strive forward for the future then?” Kaveh asks. “I find that to be an interesting thought, considering that it’s often said the Jinn are beings born from memories of loss as much as from dreams.”
“I don’t have an answer for you. I’m not quite certain we Jinn are capable of hoping for a future after having been used as a means to an end for so long. Still, I can tell the world has changed drastically compared to what it was like back then.”
From the high arched windows of the library’s ceiling above, a string of daylight dips into the large chamber where they stand as the clouds briefly part, flooding Kaveh’s side of the room while Alhaitham remains in the shadows. This way, Kaveh can’t quite make out the expression on his face.
“What sort of future do you strive for, Kaveh?”
Kaveh thinks of his buildings, each one lovingly designed and persistently imbued with a part of himself, “I suppose I yearn for a future where I can create beautiful monuments to leave a lasting mark in this world.”
“Hm, legacies can and will cost you.”
Alhaitham meets his eyes, unmovable and unshaken, and Kaveh stares right back, answering him with a bright laugh, “Perhaps so, but if I choose to leave one anyway, it is still my choice to make, is it not? My love for my craft is something that freely belongs to me, after all.”
“So be it then.” With a swift thud, Alhaitham snaps the book in his hands shut and turns away, breaking eye contact first, “I’ll pick out some books that I’d like to borrow from here. Aside from that, where to next?”
“You built this palace?”
Kaveh grins, crossing his arms with pride at the question Alhaitham directs at him as they gaze towards the massive, extravagant structure before them, revealed through the parting of trees on the cliffside where they stand, “Yes, I did. The Palace of Alcazarzaray is my magnum opus, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that gave me as much creative freedom as I could possibly have with its designs.”
“At what cost?” Alhaitham’s sharp eyes dart to the side, meeting his.
“Ah, well,” Kaveh chuckles quietly. “You sure know where to strike where it hurts. This project put me in massive debt, which I’m still trying to pay off to this day. The first few months after the completion of this project were perhaps some of the hardest times of my life. Living in debt is truly miserable, and everyone back then thought I’d lost my mind, but…”
Kaveh thinks back to the countless sleepless nights and the way his heart swelled whenever he envisioned his dreams coming to life by his own hands, scarred by his craft and his love for it, such that he is now able to stand here to declare that this is something he and he alone created, eternalizing his place in this world through his own arduous efforts, “But ultimately, I don’t regret my decision. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, and this work of art is a testament to that. Even if achieving my goals comes at a cost, I’m not the sort of person who turns back on my ambitions.”
For a moment, Alhaitham is silent, mutely observing Kaveh’s proud smile before turning away to study the elaborate, beautiful palace that lies in front of them and how evidently his master’s passion and love have been embedded into his designs. In that moment, his master reminded him greatly of someone else he once surrendered his loyalty to in the past.
“A tremendous cost for a tremendous ambition,” Alhaitham says, pondering out loud.
“You could say that.”
“Still, it is a masterful depiction of the heights of your expertise,” Alhaitham turns back towards Kaveh. “You are indeed an architect deserving of greatness, Kaveh.”
Kaveh’s face erupts into a bright flush, “...You think so?”
“I would not say something unless I am certain of it,” Alhaitham raises a hand, covering half of Kaveh’s face from his view as though he’s imagining a different version of him. “Perhaps if you lived during the peaks of the desert kingdoms, you likely would have been a favored subject of the Lord of the Sands. He was a great builder himself and had a profound appreciation for architecture and development. Like you, his ambitions knew no bounds, but it was precisely that which resulted in his own downfall as well.”
Kaveh gently pushes Alhaitham’s hand to the side, leaning in closer with a playful smile, “Is that an indirect form of warning to me, dear Jinni of mine? Are you prophesying my eventual downfall?”
Alhaitham huffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. I am not such an incapable Jinni that I’d allow my master to meet an untimely end. No harm will ever befall you so long as I serve you. If you wish for it, I could easily rid you of all your creditors. Is that something you desire?”
“Please don’t murder anyone, Alhaitham. You should not dirty your hands like that for my sake,” Kaveh laughs, his words light-hearted, but he isn’t quite sure he wants to know exactly how serious Alhaitham’s proposition is.
Alhaitham responds with a long, pensive look, searching for any deception in those words, before he sums up his impressions of his new master succinctly.
“You really are an odd human, Kaveh.”
“This is the final place that I wanted to show you today,” Kaveh says, swiveling to beam down at Alhaitham with a smile as radiant as the moon hovering above them as they climb to the top of the hill.
They’re situated atop a high hill right outside the borders of Sumeru City with a lovely view of the endless plains below, flowers and trees swaying rhythmically to the cool midnight breeze as the night weaves in and out of being by the sound of the softly flowing river nearby. High above, the moon rests amidst a boundless sea of stars, peering down at the two of them with her doting light.
When Kaveh turns to gaze upon Alhaitham, he finds that his Jinni is mesmerized, halted in place as he quietly stares upwards at the moon with a faraway look in his eyes. The wind dances in his long, gray hair, strands elegantly rippling through the breeze like waves of the finest silk, and the moonlight seems to pool in his turquoise eyes, gleaming with the luster of days dearly departed. In that moment, Kaveh wonders what it was like for Alhaitham to have spent seemingly unending centuries alone, sealed into an oath that he could not escape from until even the city he served so loyally in tribute of his goddess crumbled into ruins, unable to feel the slightest touch of moonlight on his skin.
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it? Especially with a night as clear as tonight,” Kaveh says, recalling fond memories. “I used to come here all the time with my father when I was younger. He used to be part of the Rtawahist Darshan in the Sumeru Akademiya, which meant he was a scholar of illuminationism, the study of the stars. And according to him, this is one of the best places to stargaze near the city.”
Kaveh holds his hand out, offering it to Alhaitham as they reach the very top of the hill. Noticeably, Alhaitham scrutinizes the hand being offered to him in mild confusion like he isn’t sure what to do with it, as though he’s never known what it is like to be given a lending hand from a human. And perhaps, Kaveh thinks, that is indeed true.
“Your hand,” Kaveh clarifies gently.
“Ah,” Alhaitham slips his hand into Kaveh’s hold, and they take a seat upon the grass below together.
Alhaitham’s hands are extraordinarily soft. His fingers are long and graceful, moving with the poise of an experienced dancer and yet simultaneously possessing the strength of a hardened warrior. An enigma not unlike the man himself. Kaveh has a furtive moment to commit these details to memory before his hand falls away.
“What happened to your father?” Alhaitham asks slowly as they rest on the ground, gazing up at the starry night sky. “You referred to him in past tense.”
“He passed away a long time ago due to an accident in the desert when I was a child. I…” Kaveh pauses, searching for the right words to describe the gaping void that has been carved out of his chest since the day he lost his father. “…I was very close to him, and losing him causes me significant guilt to this day.”
Kaveh hears the sound of a body shifting against the grass, and though he does not turn to see, he can tell that Alhaitham has moved to observe him.
“Self-blame is a slow-killing poison. If it was an accidental death, you should not needlessly carry this guilt until it becomes a burden you can no longer bear.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Not a personal one, no. But I’ve seen what guilt has done to even those who history records as great men and women, and it never ends well,” Alhaitham remains silent for a fleeting second of respite before he turns back towards the sight of the stars. “Are you and your father alike?”
“In some ways, yes, and in other ways, no,” Kaveh helplessly finds a smile unraveling on his face as he thinks back to those days. The lighter, easier, brighter days. “I am told that I share his passion and love for life. We are both idealists, always striving to help other people and risking our lives for what we believe in. Although I eventually found my calling in architecture, when I’d come here to stargaze with him as a child, he would often teach me about the stars and their intertwinement with people’s destinies. Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like if I had gone on to become a Rtawahist scholar instead of a Kshahrewar one, spending countless nights beneath the stars and drawing star charts like he once did.”
Kaveh watches as a star twinkles at him, growing bright for a precious, fleeting instant before its luminosity hastily dims, “Even though I don’t regret the path I’ve chosen for myself now, I find myself thinking if perhaps my life might have been easier then.”
“No, I do not believe it would have been,” Alhaitham says to him, tracing something in the sky with his eyes. “Your constellation is the Paradisaea, is it not? According to the stars, regardless of your chosen career path, you are destined to live a difficult, arduous life, rife with obstacles for you to overcome and setbacks through which your strongly held beliefs will be continuously challenged.”
“Well,” Kaveh lets out a small, sad laugh, “that’s certainly reassuring.”
“However, despite all this, your life is also destined to be a long, fulfilling one, filled with valuable experiences, significant achievements, and lifelong companions. You will be loved, Kaveh, as how you love the world in turn. The choice ultimately rests upon your own hands to determine how well you will fare through the challenges that life flings at you. I’m sure you know by now that you cannot live on your altruism alone, hoping that other people will pull you out of the water as you would to them.”
Kaveh tilts his head to the side to where Alhaitham rests on his back, staring up at the same sight as him yet ultimately perceiving something entirely different. It’s baffling to him how it feels as if Alhaitham has known him for years despite having only met him recently.
“How do you know all this? Is a unique affinity for astrology also an inherent power of the Jinn?”
“No,” Alhaitham says, his eyelids lowering in thought, “I was taught this.”
The crisp night wind begins to pick up, brushing against Kaveh’s skin and bringing with it the taste of old memories, delicate and sweet, sacred yet perpetually out of reach.
“Do you know about the specific history of the Jinn?” Alhaitham asks, and Kaveh shakes his head in response. “We were created by our mistress, the Goddess of Flowers, and back when Sumeru still flourished under the rule of the three God-Kings, our mistress and the Lord of the Sands built and ruled over an ancient city dedicated specifically for the Jinn to live in — Ay-Khanoum, the City of the Moon Maiden in the Jinn’s ancient language.”
“What was it like?”
“Ay-Khanoum was beautiful. It was a culmination of the heights of language, learning, culture, the arts, and our mistress’s power. It was a garden of paradise, where padisarahs lined every pavement as numerous as the common flower and our ancient language prospered without end,” Alhaitham explains, his hand twisting around a stray blade of grass absently. “Astrology was one of the many educational disciplines that were practiced among the Jinn. The City of the Moon Maiden always yearns for the stars, so the saying went.”
Kaveh watches in hushed fascination as the blade of grass Alhaitham was toying with morphs beneath the Jinni’s touch, warping and distorting itself until the shape of a mourning flower is manifested, scarlet petals drooping like blood.
“My mistress was the one who taught me how to interpret the stars. She was well-versed in a wide variety of subjects, and as a young Jinni, I often found myself in her many libraries, sitting with her as she recounted stories from the past or lectured on obscure topics. It was through my mistress that I discovered my affinity for reading and learning, and there I was able to explore as many subjects as I desired,” Alhaitham says, plucking a petal from the mourning flower he brought forth into existence before releasing it into the wind, following its flickering movement down the hill’s edge and out of sight. “There, in Ay-Khanoum, we were free.”
“You’re free now, aren’t you?” Kaveh says, watching the petal descend into the distance, wondering if a gust of wind might suddenly bring it back into his hold.
“Yes and no. I am no longer trapped in a bottle deep within ancient abandoned ruins, but I am also bound to this contract with you as the nature of my being as a Jinni dictates.”
“Ah,” Kaveh winces in understanding. “Is there… nothing that I can do to help you?”
“Help me?” Alhaitham blinks at him with the faintest hints of confusion on his face. “Helping me would dictate that you will no longer be able to use me or my powers for your benefit. Why would any human want to do that?”
“Is that truly what you think of humanity and of yourself?” Kaveh, propelled into motion, pushes himself upright and hovers close above Alhaitham’s face, adamantly blocking his view of the sky and forcing the Jinni to meet his eyes, “I’m speaking to you from one soul to another, regardless of your history or being. I don’t have any ill intentions towards you nor do I view you as merely a tool to me. I enjoy your company, Alhaitham, and I care for your own wants and needs too.”
Alhaitham looks up at him as though Kaveh has grown a second head or an extra pair of eyes, and it is only then that Kaveh realizes their proximity, how close he is to Alhaitham’s face such that he can now study the long, lovely lashes that elegantly dust his cheeks with every slow blink and the exquisite curve of his lips, soft and pink.
“Sorry!” Kaveh scoots away, “I-I got carried away… What I wanted to say is that perhaps this can be a new beginning for you, one where you might have a different perspective of the world and humanity compared to what you’ve experienced in the past.”
Alhaitham lets out a light scoff, and Kaveh isn’t sure if he’s mocking him or chuckling at him in amusement, “That’s a rather bold undertaking. Are you sure that is something you want to be responsible for?”
“Well, like you said, under this contract I am your master, aren’t I?” Kaveh’s lips quirk to the side, head tilting alongside the movement with a brazenness only belonging to someone who has dared to defy fate in the past and faced the consequences with his unwavering strength. “So, allow me to be responsible for you, Alhaitham.”
Kaveh’s hand is held forward at Alhaitham, fingers splayed open with hope and palm faced upwards such that all of his scars and calluses are revealed. Beneath the moonlight, they dazzle like jewels, gleaming with the promise of a new life.
“If that is what you desire, my master,” Alhaitham says, sliding his hand into Kaveh’s grasp where it seems to fit perfectly.
And as the smooth expanse of his skin weaves itself between the lines of Kaveh’s palm, binding an oath within their hold, Kaveh feels a smile unraveling on his lips, one that mirrors the momentary one that unfolds on Alhaitham’s graceful features as well.
That night, as Kaveh wades through the currents of sleep, hovering between the borders of dreaming and waking, he hears the vague noise of his bedroom door creaking open and the sound of light and airy footsteps coming closer until they pause at the edge of his bed frame. With effort, he forces one eye open, eyelid as heavy as lead, and discovers the sight of Alhaitham standing immediately before him.
“…Alhaitham?” Kaveh murmurs, his voice like gravel. “Is something wrong?”
“…I can’t sleep.”
Prior to this, Kaveh had set up a temporary sleeping arrangement in which he converted his living room sofa into a bed. Seeing as though Alhaitham no longer resides within his glass bottle and is now the size of a regular human being, this seemed to be the most sensible solution for now until he could figure out something more permanent. He’s certain that it won’t take him very long to draft up the design for a new bed frame that he can quickly put together and squeeze in somewhere in a spare room perhaps.
“Oh,” Kaveh says, right as he feels a large yawn coming on and his eyelids drooping close once more. “Is it the sofa? …Or the pillows?”
“No,” he hears Alhaitham shift closer, and a gentle wisp of air against his cheek indicates the movement of Alhaitham’s hand, almost as though he is reaching out for Kaveh. “The silent darkness and solitude remind me of the ruins. Therefore, it is difficult for me to fall asleep in an environment reminiscent of my time there.”
“I’m sorry I hadn’t thought of that,” Kaveh frowns, before shifting to the far side of the bed and sluggishly holding the covers open in invitation. “Just sleep here with me then.”
There is a pause, fraught with reluctance. But Kaveh is far too drowsy to bother with such hesitance. “But—”
“Shhh, it’s really fine. That way, you know I’m here with you.”
Eventually, he feels the mattress dip beneath the weight of another person and the covers fall on top of the shape of the person now in bed with him. Kaveh typically sleeps without a shirt on, and so the emanating warmth of Alhaitham’s body behind him wraps its tendrils around the bare skin of his back, soothing like moonlight. A huff of air is released onto the skin of his back, and he hears Alhaitham shuffling closer. Suddenly, he feels a nose at his nape, taking in his scent, and the ghost of a whisper against his neck.
Alhaitham’s quiet voice laces through the silence of the room, “Do you really not desire to use me for anything? Any selfish desire you might have, even.”
Kaveh, very much half asleep and already accustomed to Alhaitham’s strange mannerisms and even stranger questions, simply turns around, wraps an arm around Alhaitham’s waist (which he finds with difficulty in the darkness), and gently pulls him close.
“Nope, nothing at all. Now, stop thinking so loudly and let’s sleep, Haitham.”
“…Very well then.”
And as Kaveh sinks into the depths of sleep, he thinks he feels Alhaitham’s ears growing warm against his chest and a cautiously reciprocating hand coming to rest around his arm, holding onto it like the first slivers of an embrace. This, altogether with the sweet lull of a seemingly faraway lullaby, muttered in an ancient language he’s only ever heard in a dream, beckons him into one of the best sleeps he’s had in his life.
Kaveh discovers that the days pass with ease when he’s with Alhaitham. Much to his amusement, it appears that his Jinni falls into the domesticity of a mundane routine quite effortlessly, growing more and more accustomed to modern human society. One of Alhaitham’s new favorite pastimes includes spending entire days in the House of Daena, coming in and out of the library with newfound knowledge on all the history of the world that he’s missed out on since his time in the ruins. Unfortunately for Kaveh, on the other hand, this means that he now often gets countless probing questions from curious onlookers about Alhaitham’s identity.
“Mr. Kaveh, do you know who that man you often come here with is?” a curious researcher once approached him. “I’ve never seen him as an Akademiya student before nor as a visiting researcher from an overseas institution. Is he your acquaintance?”
Another person, one of the staff working at the House of Daena who was once Kaveh’s junior at the Akademiya, had been far more forthcoming with his intentions, “Is he single? If so, won’t you do your poor junior a favor and introduce me to him please, Senior Kaveh?”
Kaveh had swiftly shut every single one of them down, claiming that Alhaitham is simply a close friend of his who has returned from a long time living abroad and is now his roommate.
“Why do you have to be so physically attractive?” Kaveh groans at Alhaitham one day, flinging himself onto the couch after another long, exhausting day of work, topped with having to dodge questions about Alhaitham once again after he stopped by the House of Daena for reference materials on the way home.
Alhaitham turns towards Kaveh with an unamused expression from where he’s currently stirring a pot of meat stew by the stove, adorning a recently purchased apron.
Kaveh also learns that another one of Alhaitham’s new favorite pastimes is using Kaveh’s hard-earned money to purchase various, not particularly useful and somewhat aesthetically questionable items from the local market. The new odd-looking Aranara carving that now sits with contentment on top of a living room shelf is the newest addition to Alhaitham’s growing collection of objects that seem to prove the Jinni’s arguable tastes. Alhaitham merely contended that it was all in an effort to better understand modern Sumeru culture and immerse himself in the current craftsmanship of Sumeru’s people. Kaveh has other opinions, however.
“Would you prefer that I shift into an appearance that is physically unattractive instead?” Alhaitham says.
“Maybe,” Kaveh’s reply is muffled through the pillow pressed against his face, but as he gives more thought to his response, he rapidly shoots up from the couch. “On second thought, no! I like the way you look. Oh! But not in a strange way, of course — which is to say, I’m fine with it if you want to change your appearance, but uh—”
“I understand, Kaveh,” a tiny, playful smile finds its way to Alhaitham’s lips. “You’ve said enough.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing at all. What brought on the sudden question?” Alhaitham beckons Kaveh to come closer, lifting a spoon of the meat stew in a gesture that tells him that Alhaitham needs an objective tester. And as always, Kaveh obediently follows.
“Your physical qualities have led to a thousand questions constantly being thrown at me, pestering me about who you are and your relationship status and your occupation and so on,” Kaveh whines before letting Alhaitham guide the spoon into his mouth. “Oh, this is better than your previous attempt! I think it should be done now.”
Alhaitham huffs softly, which Kaveh can now deftly translate into a sign of satisfaction, “I followed your advice.”
Alhaitham’s cooking is definitely not bad per se, but it’s not particularly great, either. Between the two of them, Kaveh believes with definitive reason that he’s the better cook, but upon casually voicing these thoughts to Alhaitham one day not too long ago, Alhaitham perceived that as a sort of challenge and has now taken to cooking many of their daily meals together. Meanwhile, Kaveh has become the begrudging taste tester in this culinary journey of his, and after suffering through various failed attempts, he’s decided he has the right to impart some of his own advice and tips.
“So then, how do you respond to those questions?” Alhaitham asks, directing his attention back to the stew to turn the heat off .
“I tell them to mind their own business and that you’re unavailable.”
Alhaitham chuckles at him, teasing him in his tone, “How admirable of you to defend my honor on my behalf.”
In turn, Kaveh lets out a loud laugh of his own as he reaches for the bowls on the top cupboard to begin setting the table for dinner. Their evenings are always like this — Alhaitham’s reserved chuckles and Kaveh’s unabashed, boisterous laughter, interspersed with healthy bouts of bickering, moments of fussing over little things, and recountings of their day, allowing for the tender, heartfelt passing of time to blanket their lives without even being aware of it.
“Precisely! Aren’t you so lucky to be contracted to such an admirable, considerate person?”
Carefully, Alhaitham sets the bowls of steaming hot meat stew on the table just as Kaveh brings them two mugs. And when Kaveh meets Alhaitham’s stare from the seat across from him, he sees the delicate hush of the evening swirling in the depths of those ringed turquoise eyes, once unknown to him yet now wholly familiar.
“Yes,” Alhaitham says. “How lucky am I indeed.”
The steam from the stew rises and curls between them, and Kaveh grins, a little shy, “Well, shall we eat?”
Furtively, in the way that one would press a flower between the pages of a book, Kaveh tucks away a precious thought in the back of his mind at the sight before him — that it has been a terribly long time since he’s had the chance to regularly share a meal with someone in the comfort of his home like this, knowing that he won’t have to come home to an empty house everyday in reminder of everything he’s lost any longer. That at the end of every day, Alhaitham will be there for him, steadfast and unfaltering. And Kaveh wonders if perhaps he is the lucky one instead.
Kaveh further discovers that the more time Alhaitham spends in Sumeru City, the more well-liked he is becoming among a highly specific group of people. Most of the time, people are attracted to his ethereal looks but promptly grow uncomfortable at his blunt and straightforward tendencies, finding him to be unapproachable. In Alhaitham’s words, if it isn’t related to Kaveh or his current reading material, then he isn’t interested. For this specific group of people, however, Alhaitham is adored and doted on, and they are entirely unbothered by Alhaitham’s unique disposition.
“The neighborhood grannies really adore you, don’t they?” Kaveh brings this up one day, watching as Alhaitham enters their home with an overflowing bag of fruits and vegetables that was gifted to him by one of those aforementioned neighborhood grannies.
“I am grateful for their care and attention,” Alhaitham says, placing the bag on top of the kitchen counter before briefly peering inside. “Though it is quite amusing to see how they worry over me considering that I am fully capable of looking after myself. Jinn are not as fragile as humans, and in truth I am far older than any of them are.”
It is not uncommon for Kaveh to stumble upon Alhaitham spending his afternoons having tea with some of them, sharing old tales and legends, or accompanying a few of them to the local market. More often than not, Alhaitham will come home with novel insights on how to haggle with human merchants or which stalls to get the best prices from. Regardless, it warms Kaveh’s heart to witness how much more trusting of humans Alhaitham is now becoming.
Kaveh rises from his seat, approaching the counter to pick out an apple from the bag, “How interesting. What sort of things do they worry about?”
“For instance, they often tell me that it’s improper to be living together with an unmarried man and that they’re concerned about you treating me right.”
At that moment, Kaveh instantly finds himself choking on the apple chunk he just happened to swallow.
“They w-what?!”
And yet Alhaitham keeps going, revealing a charming little smirk, “According to them, they’re well aware of how much of a ‘pretty young thing’ I am and so they sincerely hope you’re not taking advantage of me in your home.”
“I-I would never!” Kaveh asserts and furiously pats his chest in an effort to get the apple chunk to go down smoothly. “Please tell me you told them I’m not doing anything of the sort and that I’m a good, honest man.”
“You humans always have such interesting reactions,” Alhaitham waves him off. “I told them you were treating me well and honorably. I would not do my master such a disservice by causing the spread of unpleasant rumors about you.”
“…Do you truly mean that?”
“What exactly?”
Kaveh nervously meets his gaze, thinking back to his Jinni’s words on the night they went stargazing together. It’s rather odd that it seems as if time has passed by in such a rapid blur since then.
“About me treating you well. Do you really enjoy being here with me?”
Kaveh notices how Alhaitham’s eyes briefly scan over the house, swiveling across the strange Aranara carving on their living room shelf to the assortment of books that now fill the bookshelves with material unrelated to architecture or the arts to the eternally fresh flowers placed in a vase on their dining table courtesy of Alhaitham’s rejuvenating powers as a Jinni; over all the marks that he has made in this home, in a life that does not only belong to Kaveh alone anymore but that is now shared and united.
“I do,” Alhaitham tells him, smiling almost imperceptibly as he wipes a stray tiny piece of apple off Kaveh’s cheek. “I enjoy being with you, Kaveh.”
One night, on his way to pour himself a glass of water from the kitchen, Kaveh stumbles upon the book that Alhaitham borrowed when Kaveh had first shown him to the House of Daena. Its cover is dipped in a rich purple color, depicting the image of a Jinni’s bottle, and it lies open on the dining table to a particular page, most likely after having been read by Alhaitham prior to bed and then left there despite Kaveh’s insistence that books should always be put back to their place.
Fleetingly, Kaveh sneaks a glance at the slightly opened crack of his bedroom door, where he can see Alhaitham sleeping peacefully inside. Over time, Alhaitham has gotten used to sleeping in the same bed as him, and it has gradually become the expectation for him to slip inside with Kaveh at some point in the night.
The Jinni’s face is completely relaxed, mouth slightly parted as his chest rises and falls tenderly with every slumbering breath he takes, pliant and trusting. Around him, his long hair spills across the pillows in a pool, framing his strong yet elegant and refined features. And Kaveh realizes that Alhaitham looks—
Alhaitham looks at home here.
Before Kaveh returns to bed with him, he takes a mindful look at the page the book is open to, and it reads as follows.
"Yet the dead moon cast a glow over the quicksand dunes, and over me... and I suddenly realized how lovely the world is."
"And so this poor Jinni, like a chick struggling to break through its egg, has hopelessly fallen in love with this barren and ravaged world and its circle of life and death. The proud Jinni, once nourished by the delicacies of roses, has fallen for the land infested with toads and vipers..."
“So, tell me a story, little raven. Let me see the world.”
The night envelops them in a fragile stillness, the stars in the sky above almost appearing as though they are descending onto them, floating nearer and nearer the longer that Kaveh looks up at them. Alhaitham had told him earlier he wanted to see the stars again, so Kaveh took him to the same hill from many nights ago as he often would whenever they find themselves with free time in the late evenings.
A fraction of a heartbeat elapses in the tranquil reticence, and Kaveh turns his head to look at Alhaitham lying beside him upon the grass. His eyes are always so bright, yearning for something beyond what fate has granted to him.
“Alhaitham.”
“Hm?”
“Are you cold?”
Alhaitham turns to look at him and considers him for a moment. Kaveh has his arm held out, signifying an empty space next to him where Alhaitham can huddle close in. Perhaps the truth is that Alhaitham is not cold at all — he’s a Jinni and thus likely immune to changes in temperature and such — but perhaps then Kaveh might be able to offer something aside from merely physical warmth; emotional warmth, the kind that burrows itself deep inside the caverns of your heart, the kind that lasts.
“Mm,” Alhaitham nods. “Slightly.”
So Alhaitham gingerly shifts close until he’s laying on Kaveh’s chest with Kaveh’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, cheek pressed against Kaveh’s heart, gazing up at the stars. And Kaveh can only hope that Alhaitham won’t be able to hear the furious beating of his heart in his ribcage, thundering with honesty.
“Alhaitham, can I talk to you about something?”
“You already are, and I’m certainly not stopping you.”
How uncute, Kaveh wants to laugh.
“You asked me once when we first met if there’s any wish that I want you to fulfill for me.”
“Yes, I did.”
High above, the moon casts her light on Kaveh’s face, bestowing upon him a certain sense of calm as he runs his fingers through Alhaitham’s hair.
“I think I know now — what that wish is.”
Kaveh feels Alhaitham’s fingers curl around the collar of his shirt, clinging onto him, “Alright. What is it? I’ll do my best to make it true for you.”
“You said that it can be anything at all, right?”
“Yes, anything that is within my power to do.”
“Then,” Kaveh presses his arm tighter around Alhaitham’s shoulder, though still gentle, always gentle. “I’ve decided that I wish for you to be free. Entirely, truly free. To be set free from your contract with me, so that you can roam and see the world in whatever way you desire to and find happiness wherever it may be for you. You deserve that, Alhaitham.”
Even if that means Kaveh won’t be able to see him any longer.
Alhaitham is silent for a pause that to Kaveh feels as if it’s stretching out into eternity before he shifts his face to turn to Kaveh, “Alright, done.”
“Huh?”
Like a cat, Alhaitham blinks languidly at him, “It’s done.”
“But,” Kaveh feels his face heating up, a tingling that rushes down to his fingertips where they curl around Alhaitham’s arm, “but, you’re still here. What do you mean that it’s done?”
Alhaitham laughs, and it’s a sound akin to the twinkling of bells in the distance, fervent and adoring, “I mean,” slowly, he lifts himself off Kaveh’s chest so that he can peer down at him directly, his long hair spilling like silk curtains around Kaveh’s face, “that the state of me now is the state of your wish granted, so consider it done. I’ve fulfilled my end of our bargain.”
“But shouldn’t you be gone, then? Going out into the world to do whatever you want instead of being bound to me here?”
“Perhaps that is what I might have done if I hadn’t spent all this time with you,” Alhaitham smiles. “I only have a simple desire, and that is to have a peaceful life. And, as baffling as this may sound, I’ve realized that I’m happy, free, and at peace precisely when I am with you, Kaveh.”
Kaveh feels his mouth gape open in surprise like a fish out of water. This isn’t how he imagined this conversation going.
“Why would I needlessly expel my energy searching and encountering troublesome things out in the world to find where my happiness and peace might be when I’ve already found it here,” Alhaitham raises a hand to momentarily cup Kaveh’s cheek, “with you.”
“Alhaitham,” Kaveh groans, pushing his now free arm over his eyes as he feels a crimson flush bursting across his face. “You can’t just say things like that.”
Though Kaveh can’t see it at the moment, he definitely knows that Alhaitham is currently smirking down at him, “Why can’t I? As you wished, I’m free to do whatever I want now.”
Kaveh peeks at Alhaitham from under his arm before he finally relents and drops his arm, laughing blatantly, torn between bone-deep exasperation and utter adoration, “Oh, you’re such an insufferable man! I’ll have you know I had a whole farewell speech thought out in my head thanking you for bringing your presence into my life and everything!”
“How touching,” Alhaitham grins then unceremoniously drops back down on Kaveh’s chest. “I should also thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
With Alhaitham assuredly in his hold now, Kaveh lets himself press his face into Alhaitham’s hair, feeling the warmth and fragrance of flowers envelop him like a reverie, a semblance of mercy for his tired heart, “I suppose I won’t be getting rid of you for a long, long time, then.”
“No, you won’t indeed. You wouldn’t last very long in your current lifestyle without me being here to chase away all those opportunists seeking to exploit your altruism or any untrustworthy creditors.”
“You were the one who threatened them? I was wondering why my finances have been so steady lately…”
“‘Threaten’ is quite a strong word. It would be more appropriate to say that I simply gave them a stern reprimand.”
Kaveh chuckles, “And what about when I no longer need you to chase away such exploiters. Will you still stay with me then?”
“I’ll stay.”
“And what about when I grow old and weary, my hair growing silver and my handsome face lined with deep wrinkles. What then?”
“I’ll stay.”
“Even if there may come a time in the far future when I’m no longer able to remember your name?”
“Even then, I’ll stay,” Alhaitham says, and Kaveh can feel from the way his cheek is pressed against his chest that his Jinni is smiling fondly. “Until your last breath, Kaveh, I will stay with you. That is my promise now to you regardless of our previous contract as Master and Jinni.”
“And you’re certain about this?”
“Entirely, truly certain,” Alhaitham answers, echoing Kaveh’s previous words.
And as Kaveh laughs, bright and dazed beneath the stars with Alhaitham in his arms, he thinks of how fortunate he is to share a home — to share a life; to be able to fill his home not with the presence of empty ghosts and bygone memories or regrets from the past but with the light and heartfelt joy of knowing that Alhaitham will always be there as Kaveh is there for him too.
So Kaveh turns his face up towards the expansive sky where the moon smiles down at him with all her blessings, counts his lucky stars, and tells Alhaitham—
“Well, then, shall we go home?”
“Yes, let’s go home.”
One of Alhaitham’s earliest memories resides within a sea of flowers, nested deeply between the vestiges of a boundless, burning sky and the tender embrace of fragrant petals at his feet. In that time, careful vines still curled around each flower’s stem, leading up to the sweeping tree that hovered massively above, its branches and leaves providing loving shade from the everlasting sun.
There, centuries and centuries ago, as a young Jinni, he asked his mistress, “Then, what does it mean to love someone?”
And the Goddess of Flowers answered him as she stared unflinchingly at the burning sun high above, “Love is one of the few choices we can make with true freedom, and nothing in this world can take that ability away from us. My dear child, to love someone is to be truly free.”
Back then, Alhaitham did nothing but remain silent, unable to comprehend the meaning behind her words. Even as his mistress vanished in the name of such love, he could not understand what she had meant. And so he would spend innumerable long, enduring years in solitude with these thoughts in mind until one day, a young architect stumbled into the ruins where he was sealed and formed a new contract with him.
Now, within Kaveh’s arms in their home together, Alhaitham believes he finally understands with certainty what his mistress meant. He loves Kaveh and in doing so, he’s found what it means to be free at last, and not a single thing in this world can take this away from him.