Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The architect maneuvered through the crowd, hastily scribbling on the tattered notepad. Books piled between his arm and chest tested the steadiness of his pen. A bag weighed down his shoulder creating a tingling sensation in his drawing hand, but this self-inflicted predicament was insignificant to his materialized burst of inspiration.

Doodles of various support beams, walls, and roofs filled the pages, but the rough sketch of a floor plan was at the center of Kaveh’s attention. Mehrak, his mechanical toolbox, floated by trying to keep up with his pace like a duckling swimming behind its mother. Only occasionally would Kaveh check its green projection to reference measurements.

Out of nowhere, a silhouette plummeted down in his peripheral vision. With Kaveh’s slow reaction, Mehrak took initiative and shoved him backwards. He toppled to the ground and Kaveh’s full hands emptied on the floor, splattering in every direction.

The land came with a thud that sent a shockwave through his spine. The sound of bricks smashed on the pavement echoed under the branches of the Divine Tree. When the pain rushed to the rest of his body, he groaned and retracted his hand from the floor. Imprints of the rubble made his palm bright red.

How annoying such an inconvenience came to him.

Suddenly, Mehrak’s worried beeps became the least of his concern. When that isometric skit and those light blue twintails swept into view, embarrassment flooded his cheeks.

How fortuitous.

“Young people these days don’t watch where they’re going,” Faruzan said. Prim footsteps carried her to Kaveh, and she extended a hand ready to return his books. “You should look up from your notepad from time to time!”

Over the many years of his project cramming and bursts of inspiration, Kaveh learned to avoid running into people. The ability to anticipate a falling pot somehow escaped him.

He never lacked spatial awareness, but correcting Faruzan invoked her scolding claws. Despite her size, confidence and age made her intimidation skills a camouflaged booming presence of authority.

“Sorry, Madam Faruzan,” he said, taking her hand and brushed himself off before fetching the books from her. “I’m in a rush to get home.” The warmth in his breath captured the loaded connotation of home.

Using Kaveh’s Vision, Mehrak floated the rest of the items into the shopping bag but not without a disturbance from Faruzan. She snatched the notepad from Mehrak’s grasp and waved it in his face. “Even so, you can afford to put the notepad down,” she said and plonked it into the bag. “I don’t know how poor Mehrak deals with your mess all the time. Luckily, it’s here to keep an eye on you, otherwise you would have ended up oh so tragic like that plant!”

“No tragedy happened here,” he deflected. “I’m fine.”

Concern beeps followed his words.

“Look, you have Mehrak worried sick. Go home and pay attention next time,” Faruzan enunciated. Sharp and asserting, but far more bearable than someone else he knew. She dismissed Kaveh and hurried along seemingly on the clock.

In her trail, he saw the aftermath of the broken garden bed. Shattered stones covered the area. A mound of moist and fertile dirt made a mess on the tile. The bush laid on the ground with droopy yellow flowers and exposed roots. These plants were all over Sumeru City. He remembered a passing comment during his studies at the Akademiya...

On the topic of Landscape Architecture, an assignment assessed the local flora and the significance of the dappled butterfly. True to its name, its flowers appeared like butterflies resting on tame branches. They were chosen for the city to sport the beauty of mundane life while leaving room for brighter flowers to shine. However, the peaceful allegory didn’t quite match the fate of this soppy plant.

What confused him the most was that no one took accountability for its predicament. The upper layer of the city lacked the eyes to see the broken railing and a tumbling garden bed.

The little toolbox bumped his shoulder. It shifted some of its outer components to appear sad like a worried puppy. A learned trait from its pattern recognition, but sadness in Kaveh’s eyes, nonetheless.

“I know, Mehrak. We’re leaving,” he said in a low, impatient voice.

Even if it lacked sentience, talking to Mehrak brought him a sense of comfort.

He waved down a member of the Corps of Thirty and informed him of the situation, but Kaveh stumbled his way through the events.

After his tragic retelling, the Corps of Thirty member left to gather the hands to clean up the mess. Kaveh loosened his taloned clasp of the books. The bag floated next to him with Mehrak’s Dendro-ignited grasp, and they left the scene.

Just around the corner and up the ramp, home finally came into view. He paused at the door and a short grumble came from the back of his throat. He muttered curses under his breath as he fumbled around his pockets for his key.

Once he made it inside, a sigh of relief exited his chest as if he held his breath from the moment he fell to the ground. It came as a surprise that he harbored so much stress since then.

He slipped off his shoes and heaved the books to the study, dropping them on his roommate’s desk with a thud and leaned on the pile to catch his breath.

“What took so long?” Alhaitham said, peering up from his own book in hand. His placid eyes watched Kaveh’s lethargic movements.

Tired arms tensed at Alhaitham’s calm demeanor. The gall to have impatience in his generosity while in the comfort of his own home—in the comfort of his own study. A part of Kaveh that would never be voiced envied him.

The shopping bag floated to the center of the desk—a momentary distraction from his peeved thoughts. He rummaged around for his notebook and pencil then took the bag himself. With an annoyed shake of the head, he said, “Help me set the table.”

Alhaitham closed his book and followed him to the main room. He brought matching sets of bowls and plates from a cabinet while Kaveh unpacked the rest.

The smell of warm food and cumin filled the room and relaxed his agitated breathing. When Kaveh opened the first box of butter chicken, he saw a lot of the sauce and rice splattered. He groaned and spent several minutes cleaning the mess.

“Run into trouble?” Alhaitham asked, setting down the last of their dinnerware. He sat comfortably at the divan with his legs crossed.

Kaveh served the other’s food, scraping everything into the bowl. His face contorted remembering the details but retold the story differently than earlier. “It came out of nowhere…I walked my normal route home. You know, the pathway to Treasure Street? Then suddenly, BAM! Mehrak shoved me to the ground. All of my belongings flew across the street. That’s…probably why the food splattered. It’s still good though!” he said and licked his finger of stray sauce while he served himself. “When I got up, I found the remnants of a broken garden bed in front of me. It somehow fell from the platform above.”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow. “Those stone garden beds on the inclines to the Akademiya?” he said with his bowl in hand.

“Yes, those.” Kaveh set the naan on a plate between them and grabbed one for himself. He teetered around the edge of the it to scoop up any stray bits of food.

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes. “How could something like that fall? They’re barely moveable by the average person,” he said.

With a mouth full of chicken and rice, Kaveh spoke, “Well, I probably have a bruise or two to show for it!” He swallowed and lowered his voice. “My tailbone has been hurting ever since I got home.” He rubbed his back in the place of the supposed bruise. It certainly did feel like one. He grabbed another piece of naan. “It probably was an accident. It’s not a big deal.”

Alhaitham held an overbearing silence. “You should be more aware of your surroundings next time.”

The surefooted and astute voice of Madam Faruzan echoed in his head. Before his next bite, he looked at the other’s untouched plate. “And you should stop talking and eat,” Kaveh said and gladly filled his stomach.

Some concern would be nice once in a while, he thought, but after Alhaitham picked up his plate, Kaveh saw the truth in his expression. To the untrained eye, that stoic face and still movements read as cold-hearted, but Kaveh noticed the slight crease in his brow and those wavering eyes. Bluntness was his specialty but not with reservations at times—like now. He wanted to let the subject die down. No complaints from Kaveh there.

The quiet moments of home gave him peace of mind. To relax behind closed walls, with the warmth of a nice meal, and in the presence of a somewhat tolerable person, Kaveh had a break from the stressors of the outside world. In a home where the shelves lined with his décor and belongings complimentary of another. The table adorned with jars of coffee beans, fruits, and other kitchenware with matching cups and utensils for two. Their books atop the dresser and two setars propped against the wall. This encumbering stillness of the space curated by the only two people at home.

Once refreshed by the ambience, he set his plate down as he finished the meal. He placed his elbow on the arm of the divan, resting his head on his fist. A casually playful energy encompassed him. “The books I brought are about King Deshret’s civilization, just like you asked,” he said as Alhaitham’s attention snapped to him with those daring words of his. “I couldn’t help but notice the pillar’s capital somewhat resembles the pillars in the desert temples. We’re on the right track, but I doubt we’ll discover anything new this way.” He sighed and disguised any form of emotion in his words, “It’s reasonable to say these waters have been tread before…” The pensive expression from Alhaitham created a tightness in the air. As if Kaveh walked over one of those glass platforms at the top of cliffs or between ravines to test the bravery of its visitors. For the serene atmosphere built here, they equally knew how to test its limits.

Alhaitham hummed and sat taller on the divan. He had that look that meant he was about to speak for a while—and a look that indicated his overconfidence.

With his back straight and his broad shoulders bolstering that lofty head of his, he spoke, “It’s likely to forget things from our prime. However, the selection of texts you bring serve a more speculative purpose than factual.” He proceeded to recite the contents of his reading from the book on the table, “The obsession which created Akhtamun has little documentation with the whereabouts of King Deshret during this time. For example, the brevity of the passage regarding his activity, especially concerning his developments in the conditions of his forbidden knowledge, is quite lackluster. ‘Al-Ahmar used a hundred years and a hundred years further to build a huge maze of his kingdom, before trapping himself deep within it in search of forbidden knowledge and an elixir with which he might abandon his mortal form.’

“Several other texts are equally taciturn towards the matter,” Alhaitham continued. “Various citations of murals or Desert Script are referenced, but even those are reserved in their descriptions. However, I did find the fact that ‘Al-Ahmar separated his mind from his flesh and bone, placing it within the corridors, stairways, doorways, and beams that crawled eternally into the depth,’ to be extremely vital to our findings.”

That sassy sarcasm fed Kaveh’s mood. The cheekiness that comes with relaxation and a full stomach. Like going out to Lambad’s with his friends and living off the boldness acquired with several sips of wine. It didn’t help that this situation felt all too familiar. The pining in his soul for academic debate made a slim smile appear on his lips. “A commentary on the quality of books I brought? I thought you were quick with your word, Haravatat,” he teased.

“It seems today I am speaking at the pace of your ability to find valuable material,” he responded. “If they’re not already destroyed, I hope the books you brought tonight would be more helpful.”

That talent to ruffle his feathers came from nothing but practiced skill. How bothersome.

Kaveh rolled his eyes and snatched the book out of Alhaitham’s hand. “I didn’t realize I grabbed this,” he said, flipping through the pages. Red and green ink lined the pages and annotated other sources that detailed these lackluster descriptions. “I can’t believe I’d forgotten…” he said with warmth in his voice. Reminiscent eyes followed their bygone conversations. Some distant life of theirs frolicked in the path of research without the degrading worries of the outside world.

“I’ll look through the books,” Alhaitham said with deep resonance in his voice.

Kaveh’s long stare made for an awkward silence. “Good,” he said definitively. “Until I’m done with this commission, you’re on your own.”

The other hummed quietly. “By then I would have poured through every book in the House of Daena.” That farce of a smile irritated Kaveh. “You are well aware that first drafts of your designs never get approved.”

Like a leaf flowing down the stream, Kaveh’s groan flowed naturally. “I didn’t even bring that up!” He prepared for the pressing jumble of words that would soon be their quarrel.

“It’s what you were thinking,” Alhaitham said in a provocative manner.

“It would help if you could be more positive sometimes,” he seethed.

“I prefer to tell it as it is,” Alhaitham said with flaunting gestures. “Fallacy is the pathway to unwanted conflict.”

“I see a very unwanted conflict now,” he huffed. What right did Alhaitham have to criticize his workflow anyway? Kaveh did his due diligence and Alhaitham had undisturbed afternoons.

Some time passed before Alhaitham rose to collect the dishes. A tired gaze fell to Kaveh. “Don’t stay up too late,” he said before heading off to clean their plates. He listened those words almost every night accompanied by long projects and grueling hours.

Somehow, the room grew quieter than their moments of silence. In that emptiness, he became reminded of his tiredness and not long after, he left for the study.

Piles of books encompassed Alhaitham’s desk like a nest built out of his most comforting objects. Outside of the nest laid the two small, pillar-like objects that laid at the center of their attention for the past few days. The reason why Kaveh spent so much unappreciated time creating Alhaitham’s nest.

Ever since those objects landed in their home, finding any useful information on the matter came to no avail. They even brought them to the market multiple times to see if any appraiser came across something similar. The most troubling part of that experience came from the question of where they found it because they never found it to begin with. Explaining the objects came from his toolbox to someone who didn’t know Mehrak became difficult. While Kaveh programmed in a few strings of beeps to format basic sentences, Mehrak lacked in its descriptive abilities, so no tracing them back to their source.

Even if their research led to nowhere and this turned out to be some person’s stolen sculpture, he did somewhat appreciate Alhaitham buzzing in. If anything, the project turned out to be stimulus keeping their minds busy while the world became monotonous.

At his desk, he draped his legs to the side fashioned as a princess with delicacy in her form. He took the notepad and placed it near Mehrak at the top of his desk. The rest of his space became engulfed by an empty blueprint.

Kaveh stared at the paper and tried to refocus himself on his work. He copied the sketch of his floor plan and refurbished it to better suit his idea of the building. He worked several hours into the night torn between his commission, Mehrak and the pillars, and Alhaitham.

*

The commissioner unrolled the blueprint, unfazed by any immediate observations. Kaveh’s heart sunk a little as the paper crinkled in the other’s hands. The disappointment crushed his soul.

“What is your opinion on what you just gave me?” Bes asked with a deep, imposing voice. One that Kaveh was overawed by ever since he first approached.

Startled by this strange and unexpected question, Kaveh felt the lack of sleep catch up to him. “Oh.” Honesty escaped him, but he felt confined by the option of lies. His next words were far too important to throw around carelessly.

A heavy sigh reached Kaveh with incredible force as the commissioner rolled up the blueprint and held it tight. “You seem so…young,” Bes started, looking Kaveh up and down with an obligatory sadness. “You meticulously crafted your skills to perfection, but I am led to believe these commissions you do for the untrained eye watered down your skills. I must conclude you’ve lost yourself to the masses.”

That hoity expression threw away Kaveh’s illusion of Bes’ authority. Sporting a goofy confidence like that made Kaveh feel a little better.

“You are supposed to be the promising Light of Kshahrewar. Not just anyone can earn that title…” Bes said, waving around his finger like a pretentious Akademiya student. “Which is why I refuse to see this as your best work,” he said all agog.

Bes handed Kaveh the blueprint with a resolute strength that caused him to stammer back. Who knew that a quiet, unsuspecting night would be the precursor to some great challenge of his skills.

For a long time, the kindled flame in his spirit dwindled, but rather than fizzling out now, a strong breeze fanned the flame to burn brighter.

“Bes, the type of work you want from me will require more than a few days of drafts,” Kaveh said with a subtle confidence.

“In that case, the library is not worth your time.” Bes waved his hand like a king dismissing his subjects and carried his voice through the trembling air, “Create a palace fit enough for even the gods to inhabit.”

Words so portent, Kaveh could hardly believe them to be real. How could logic ordain such an absurd request?

A troubled breath escaped Kaveh. He placed a hand on his forehead as if preventing his circling thoughts from pouring out. “Has Rex Lapis revived himself and gifted you a wealth ten times Lord Sangemah Bay’s? A commission of that scale is not something to decide on a whim,” he warned.

The overpowering thoughts of his harrowing half criticized his feeble attempt at taking control of the situation. “No” was the answer of a well-rounded individual and “Yes” the answer of an altruist, but the lofty smirk on Bes’ face rendered Kaveh speechless.

“I expect to meet you again in three days’ time.”

“Three days!?”

“The location is irrelevant. I will find you again.”

Before Kaveh processed the moment, the commissioner left as mysteriously as he appeared. The wind’s breath adorned Kaveh as if bidding him farewell.

Difficult commissioners were commonplace in his line of work. From the picky to the unknowledgeable. This one decided to add a new category of difficulty to the mix and without the discretion of Kaveh. Only one person has properly played the game of his time and patience, and this commissioner’s attempt felt like the most pitiful.

The absolute gall of this man to insult his work and challenge his limits without clarification. Kaveh did spent an excess of time on needless commissions and clients and not without reason, but they certainly did not water down his skills. That commissioner must’ve studied Kaveh’s impulse well because whether a sincere commission or not, he planned to have a result in three days.

After this unnecessary stress, his mind left for a quiet space in the House of Daena. His notepad laid empty at the prospect of his thoughts. The hand rested on his forehead shielded the light from his eyes.

“Oh good. You’ve secured a table for me,” said a familiar flippant voice. A thud on the table whisked away Kaveh’s laziness. Alhaitham assumed the chair next to him.

Kaveh sat up to save himself from unnecessary judgement. “Come to bask in my misery?”

“No, I’ve come to the House of Daena just as any normal person would—to read,” he said plainly. The pile of books favored his argument.

In a low, defeated tone, Kaveh said, “So, you really did take it upon yourself to snuff the middleman.”

“I came to return the others to the House of Daena. It’s only natural I search for books myself,” he said, opening the first book from the pile. He leaned back in the chair in the silence of the aftermath.

Jealous of his calm presence and unbothered attitude, Kaveh boiled inside. With no one else around to hear his rambling, Kaveh spilled his woes to Alhaitham.

“The meeting with the commissioner was far beyond what I expected. For every arrogant commissioner I’ve dealt with, he somehow surpassed their level of ignorance towards my work. And to challenge me in such a convoluted manner…” he growled in rage, “Ohh it makes my blood boil. I mean, can you believe it? ‘A palace fit enough for even the gods to inhabit,’ he said. What kind of request is that!?”

Suddenly Kaveh sat back in his chair, ready to let the flame fizzle out. Teeming with hesitation to voice his familiar thoughts, he placed his hand on his forehead almost in disbelief of his realization.

A sigh full of longing encompassed his words. “Last time I was given such free reign was when I constructed the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Even then I didn’t have three days to come up with a draft of some sort.” Expectant eyes shifted towards the other and awaited his response.

Alhaitham hadn’t budged or even lifted his eyes from the book. “I see you’re utilizing your time wisely with such a short deadline,” Alhaitham said and Kaveh took it in such a cold manner that he flared up in his seat again.

“Don’t criticize me!” he shouted all too loudly for a library.

“It was merely an observation,” Alhaitham responded in a hushed tone. This time, he glared at Kaveh for his loudness. “Why you choose to take on such a mentally demanding task is beyond me.”

In the moment, he couldn’t give a straight answer to Alhaitham’s face. Whether for pride, proof of his skill, or simply for the Mora, those realistic motives were never true to himself. The thought felt meaningless now. His determination to humble that man overwhelmed all deeper feelings about his ambitions, and he believed they would continue to for the next three days.

“I take it you wouldn’t be willing to read through these books then?” Alhaitham said.

Since he was here, he could give at least an hour or so.

“No…I need something to refresh my mind,” he said with false confidence.

Alhaitham scooted the pile to the middle of the table. Kaveh sat comfortably and grabbed from the top, pulling a book with a large index that held a comprehensive guide to all historical books related to Deshret’s civilization. A pleasant change of pace was in order.

Whether the pillar-like objects hailed from the realm of art, the mundane, or cultural, every aspect of documentation lacked results. For all they knew, it could be a simple paper weight, but the node of curiosity and hints from the imagination left them enthralled.

Kaveh read passage after passage about technologies and theories of mathematics, astronomy, the art of irrigation and surveying; investigation into the origin of primal constructs and the philosophies related to the Golden Slumber. All that was known about the Eternal Dream and King Deshret’s downfall. Some of these texts were new to Kaveh, written after the learned history of the Dendro Archon’s friendship with the previous gods.

It would be unfair to say Kaveh hadn’t indulged in these topics out of pure curiosity. In the back of his mind, he imagined Alhaitham scolding him for straying so far, but even he spent extra time with some books unrelated to the pillars.

When it came to indulgence, books were the only thing they could agree on. Alhaitham’s gluttonous eye for horrid décor deterred Kaveh, and Kaveh’s so-called impulsiveness with decision making were the peeves that sparked their disputes. Knowledge, however, never had its limits.

This quiet moment in the House of Daena reminded Kaveh about his old Akademiya days with Alhaitham. Fond hours spent over homework, research, and even just pure conversation came to the surface of his mind, and as if it triggered the sudden disarray of a ley line disorder, the memories of their fallout followed. This time, it felt like an emotionless, blank slate of a memory. He associated it with those negative emotions back then, but it felt as if he could never reprimand that same feeling again. For as agonizing as Alhaitham could be, were they ever at risk of that happening again?

He caught himself skimming through the pages of another text about the architecture in King Deshret’s ancient civilization. His eyes were dry, and his yawn as ample as a lion’s.

Alhaitham’s book joined his in the pile of discarded material. “Tired already?” he said.

“You know I never quite had the reading stamina you have,” Kaveh said and sighed. “I couldn’t find anything useful anyway. Best I leave it to you.” He rubbed his eyes and felt the heaviness of his head.

Alhaitham opened his mouth to say something, but a familiar voice butted in. “Hey you two!” Excited green eyes and curly hair crossed their path, bringing a bright smile that gave Kaveh the pep he needed. “Enjoying your time together, are we?” Sethos hovered over the pile of books on the other side of the desk.

“Ah, I didn’t expect to run into you here,” Kaveh said warmly.

“The Temple of Silence is currently working with the new Grand Conservator to update the House of Daena’s catalogue with some of their own,” Alhaitham explained. “Although, I thought with the Akademiya’s resources, he wouldn’t make you travel so far.”

Sethos cocked his head with a curious gaze. “It’s no trouble at all, Alhaitham. I invited myself here. I thought it would be more useful to come in person. More useful for myself that is.” He ran his hand across the pile of books, scanning their titles. “The scholars here have done a fine job with research when it comes to history, but quite a few important details slipped through the cracks. The Temple stands as the line between truth and speculation, and I should know how to maintain it.” Slim eyes followed his mysterious allure.

When Cyno first introduced Sethos, that guileful attitude festered Kaveh’s fascination with the heaps of secrets in the Temple of Silence—knowledge behind the walls shielded from time. The thought of escaping in the pages of old tales and preserved history tingled as he left his mind to wander. As much as the idea appealed to him, he acknowledged that some texts should remain in more capable and devoted hands. After all, silence was the key to the operations of the Temple.

As for the guy behind the archival of truth, he melded into their conversations quicker than Kaveh expected. On some evenings when Sethos arrived in the city, he showed himself to their gathering at Lambad’s. His presence never unwelcome and never undermined.

For the leader of the Temple of Silence, he in fact, was not silent. No tavern outing with him left unfruitful in terms of gossip. Somehow, the person who traveled the least to the city heard plenty of interesting stories. He kept everyone entertained and had the tolerance to fit in their group. To say Cyno brought home a good brother was an understatement.

“I digress,” Sethos said. “What are you two here for?”

That’s when it clicked. If the House of Daena lacked knowledge on such an ancient piece of desert history, surely the keeper of truth and speculation would have a clue.

As always, Alhaitham cut to the conversation first. “These came into our hands recently,” he said, placing the artifacts on the table. “Do you know what they are?”

Curious eyes grazed over the artifact’s features. Sethos leaned closer to observe the objects. “Do you mind?” he asked, pointing at them. Alhaitham shook his head and watched Sethos pinch one between his fingers. “I never thought I’d see one with my own eyes…”

“Ah, you know what this is?” Kaveh asked. He leaned forward as if taking a closer look would also allow him to know more information.

Sethos left the object back on the table with the other. “It’s called a Djed Pillar,” he said, straightening his back as if given a formal decree. “In King Deshret’s time, these objects were only given to those close to him and typically of higher status. The original sages were each given one.

“I only know this off the top of my head because Hermanubis has one of his own that rests in the Temple of Silence. Of course, King Deshret wasn’t around to give it to him, but it was made in advance. Several other important figures received one after that, but they were not hand crafted by King Deshret himself.”

“For ornamental purposes, I assume?” Alhaitham said.

Sethos gave a “something like that” expression. “It’s more of a gift and a celebration of life, if you will.” Concern fell on his face. “It’s a gift only given after death…”

At the very least, they had an answer, but that was the last thing Kaveh expected.

“…How did you come across two of them?” Sethos continued.

“Mehrak brought them to us,” Kaveh said slowly, trying to piece the puzzle together now that Sethos created the picture’s border. “I truthfully don’t know how they got in its hands.” Mehrak materialized and floated beside him. It looked at them with excitement likely because of the mention of its name. A tinge of Kaveh wished Mehrak could spell out how it pulled them into this situation.

He felt Sethos’s close examination of Mehrak as if he were the one held under the microscope. “You once told me Mehrak was made from a machine core from the desert. It’s possible it had some connection with these artifacts and took them.”

Kaveh assumed as much, but some instinct never let him cross into the waters of belief.

“There are people at the Temple of Silence that could look into it. I’m heading back tomorrow, so I could bring you and Mehrak along,” he suggested.

An invitation to the Temple meant an opportunity to see its history, but the way Sethos said it so casually, it felt like he invited them home.

As much as Kaveh wanted to go, he had his priorities to attend to.

“Ah, I’ll be held up with work for a few days.” Kaveh shook his head, brushing away the thought. “The main thing was finding out what the artifacts were. It’s not as important to discover where they came from,” he said, routinely downplaying his feelings.

Then, Kaveh jerked his head towards Alhaitham to what he thought was a sigh of disappointment.

“Regardless, I would still like to visit the Temple of Silence one day,” Alhaitham said casually. “I am interested to see your catalogue.”

Kaveh grinded his teeth as he witnessed Alhaitham blatantly use him to slip in that suggestion. He tried to pinpoint the boiling feeling in his gut since jealousy felt like an understatement.

Sethos laughed at the request and rightfully so. “Just between us, the Temple of Silence does have some secrets kept close to its chest. Not all our texts are being shown to the House of Daena. I can tell you’d be interested in some of them.” Sethos had a smug look on his face.

Kaveh knew what overconfidence looked like, and Sethos did not fit that mold.

“You know you’re welcome any time. I’d be happy to have you over,” Sethos said.

Some part of Alhaitham’s burglary remained intact but luckily nothing lost for Kaveh. A silent win in the face of a greedy bookworm.

“Hm, then another time,” Alhaitham said.

Kaveh snickered. “Here I was thinking you’d drop everything and take a trip to the desert.”

Then he gave an incessant smirk agitated Kaveh to the bone.

“I have other matters to attend to,” he said, organizing the books on the desk.

“Like what?” Kaveh challenged.

“I must do my due diligence at work today,” he responded. “Don’t you have a commission to finish?”

So, all of a sudden Alhaitham acted responsible and productive. Had Sethos’ offer gone to his head? Of course it had, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to rile him up.

Meanwhile, Sethos tilted his head, finding amusement out of their interactions. The only times Sethos remained truly silent was when he gave way for the two to speak, or rather, bicker.

Kaveh cleared his throat. “Fine then. I will take my leave if that’s what you want.”

He said his goodbyes, collected his things, and left. The two continued their conversation without him. Whatever the subject was, Kaveh focused on going home. After all, Alhaitham’s words about his commission were truthful, he always just put them in a frustrating manner.

A hint of dread stirred in Kaveh as he thought about the project ahead.

*

Trudging through the streets sent jolts down Kaveh’s spine that rang at the base of his neck. Normally his posture never suffered unless he spent long hours enveloped in something enough to forgo his health. He already felt the stress in his wrist by imagining the even longer hours spent at his desk drafting designs. The weight of his thoughts distracted him from his surroundings.

Suddenly, a soft voice echoed from the corridor inward of the Divine Tree. Footsteps tapped the stone with delicate haste. “Kaveh!” she called.

The headdress of the Goddess of Flowers appeared in Kaveh’s sight. Nilou emulated what was known of Nabu Malikata as much as her personality emulated the kindness of her art.

She stood by him unintentionally blocking his path. “I’m so glad I caught you!” she said.

“You were looking for me?” he asked, oblivious to her motives.

“Yes! Now come to the Grand Bazaar. I need to talk to you about the festival’s progress,” Nilou said. Seeing his hesitation, she grabbed his arm and dragged him inside before he put in another word.

The Grand Bazaar welcomed Kaveh with a warm embrace. Vendors at their stalls adored customers of all kinds—artisans and samaritans alike, but their conversations humbled amidst the busy stage. Decorations and props created for the festival occupied backstage. A planning board with notes and schedules stood in the center as the main character of the show.

“Wow, Nilou.” Kaveh exclaimed. “Practically the whole Zubayr Theater is involved.”

“I like to think this is a result of all our work of bringing the arts back into the public eye. With the Akademiya’s past resentment of art, it seemed like a dream to pull something like this together. Even then, we quite literally couldn't dream of it. Now, everyone is working hard to make their dreams come true.”

Her serenade of admiration towards everyone’s efforts made Kaveh smile. Her sweet dream finally realized.

“Thank you again for designing the space,” she continued. “We wouldn't have been able to continue without a proper plan of the decorations and staging.”

Kaveh shook his head. “It was no problem, really,” he said.

“Oh, but it does mean a great deal to everyone here.” Her hand of sincerity reached her heart with gentle care. “Alright, I hope you have some time because I’m going to take you through what everyone is working on.”

No harm done if he spent just a little while longer here. Where would art be without the inspiration of other works?

Nilou showed him the props and decorations prepared for the festival and the performances and activities planned at each stand. Even the preparation for construction of the very stage was underway. She pointed out each and every way his concept art helped the work along, and Kaveh was impressed with the progress they made over the past week.

Although he was acquainted with some people in the theater, he never got to see their true skills and passions at work. His once unpopular and guarded opinion about art being another form of knowledge now truly came to light in this operation. Even if the Akademiya’s official stance towards art changed, the general public never understood the amount of work and skill it took to pull this together. He hoped this would be a budding opportunity of growth.

He stopped in front of a large display of pottery against the back wall of the theater. The vases depicted various patterns of people and dancers. “What’s this?” he asked out of curiosity.

Nilou burst with excitement after his showed interested. “These were recently unearthed from a desert ruin by a scholar. After she struggled with its interpretation, she brought them here for someone more versed in the arts to inspect them—isn’t that exciting?

“When I saw them, what interested me the most was the depictions of these dancers. They were so elegantly captured as if actually depicting a dance, but I didn’t recognize the order of these moves. I managed to contact Sorush, and she told me all about it! It’s a dance from thousands of years ago that showed dedication to the three God-Kings of Sumeru! At least a human interpretation of the original from the Jinni.”

“Fascinating,” Kaveh exclaimed.

“After the researcher and Akademiya heard about it, the pottery was then lent to the festival!” Her smile never ceased from her excitement. “It’s wonderful how something seemingly lost to time could be resurfaced through the arts.”

How times have changed in the Akademiya…if Kaveh heard this story years ago, he would’ve thought that was as likely as him living with Alhaitham.

“By the time of the festival, Sorush would help me learn the dance, and I can be the first to debut it to the people of Sumeru again,” Nilou said, bewildered by the idea.

He let out a hearty, excited chuckle. “That’s incredible, Nilou! You deserve to be the one to debut it.”

“Thank you, Kaveh. There’s one more thing I’d like to discuss with you.” She grabbed his hand and brought him to the schedule board. “We’ll have presentations and workshops all day at the stage. I do have a spot open in the presentations…I left that for you.”

There it was on the board: a large timeslot with his name on it.

“Nilou…” he said in a “you didn’t have to” tone.

“You’ve gone out of your way to help, and you have experience with art up your sleeve too. There’s no reason you shouldn’t get a place in the festival,” she reasoned.

Nilou really did look out for everyone. She had the heart of a Sumpter Beast and the soft words of a dewdrop on a flower petal, but Kaveh had a feeling that if that commissioner was serious, this would overload his plate far more than he could handle. A nagging, sarcastic voice in his head affirmed that thought.

“I’m grateful for your offer, Nilou, but I’m not entirely sure time is in my favor at the moment,” he said. “I was just handed a large project. Pulling together a whole presentation on top of it might be biting off more than I can chew…” He hoped he wouldn’t upset Nilou too much with his words. After all, she did go through the effort to give him a large opportunity at the festival, but a part of him didn’t even know where to start with his segment.

Her expression wavered, but with her determined eyes, she grabbed his hand and clasped it between hers. “I understand. I don’t want you to worry yourself over it, but I will still leave it open. Just in case you do find the time.”

How could he reject her resolute ambition again?

Kaveh unclenched his jaw from any stray words of rejection. “Okay. Thank you, Nilou.”

She jumped in triumph, but Kaveh stared at his time slot intently.

“Oh, it looks like you have company,” she said.

Kaveh heard the whirl of mechanical beeps behind him. He faced the little toolbox that was nothing short of happy to see him. “Ah, Mehrak, where have you been?” he said in a scolding tone. “We have a lot of work to do when we get home. I need you to work overtime with schematics.”

“I won’t hold you any longer,” Nilou said with a smile.

“Thanks, Nilou. I’ll see you soon. Hopefully before the festival!” Kaveh waved goodbye and left with Mehrak.

On his way back, he blabbed about all sorts of thoughts he had for the project. He asked Mehrak to pull up projections of past, unfinished ideas. The two were in their own world, completely ignoring any previous advice from a certain blue-haired madam given to him the last time his surroundings failed him.

When Kaveh stood at the front door of his home, he wondered if Alhaitham caught up to him—already inside waiting to criticize his lateness. Kaveh ruffled around his pockets for his keys before Mehrak signaled for his back pocket.

A passing thought of the ridiculousness of his living situation came to mind before he opened the door.

The quiet of the house dulled his mind. Before sitting down to work, he walked towards his room stopping at the vase of Fontainian Lumidouce Bells displayed on the table by the window. For as frequently as Kaveh changed the water, they started to droop and wilt. He should’ve thrown them away a long time ago, but it was as if he clung onto the last remnant of his mother’s affection—which was far from the case, he told himself. Over the years, their conversations became sporadic and letters vaguer than the last.

Beeps from Mehrak already in the study, caught him from moping any longer. He sunk into the chair, back arched and neck bent forward. Mehrak sat comfortably on the table prepared to help.

After what felt like a few hours of back-and-forth revisions and discarded papers, Kaveh’s mind started to wander. He lightly tapped the pencil’s eraser on his lip. Frazzled and wispy hair fell on his face. He sighed and pushed it out of the way. The soft patter of his knee hitting the leg of his desk filled Kaveh’s head and the lack of light narrowed his focus on the scribbled page.

Despite pushing through his boredom, he attempted to make progress until he fell asleep at his desk.

After Mehrak powered down, the room remained silent for a while until the soft click of the door’s hinges and the jingle of keys filled the distant rooms. Eventually, Alhaitham poked his head in and leaned against the door frame of the study. A solemn gaze landed on Kaveh.

Alhaitham brushed his hand over the papers and discarded drafts. He pushed the pencils and rulers away from Kaveh’s arms and turned off the lamp. Then, he quietly closed the curtains and left Kaveh to sleep.

*

Scents of warm stew and fresh meats drifted through Treasure Street. Kaveh’s stomach lurched as he and Alhaitham passed various food vendors. Their stoves sweltered and sounds of sizzling steak reached his ears and salivated his mouth. A groan of disappointment left Kaveh remembering his skipped meal from today. The habit Alhaitham adamantly reprimanded.

“I’d like to assume that was for something other than hunger,” Alhaitham said, commenting on Kaveh’s hand desperately clutched at his stomach.

Kaveh was left sizzling out for too long and Alhaitham’s comment was the final turn of the heat. “Like you’re any different. It’s around lunchtime, and you’re probably in the same boat.”

Alhaitham sighed in some pent-up attitude that made himself seem perfect. “Hardly. I’ve had at least one meal today clearly indicated by my upright and content posture.”

That bastard.

From the motley of fresh fruits in their bag, Alhaitham selected a Zaytun Peach and tossed it to the other. Kaveh stumbled to catch it.

At the very least, Alhaitham could have handed it to him like a normal person. Not to mention the fact that he rudely continued walking.

After he caught up, he bit into the peach and his hunger and thirst were instantly gratified.

“While we’re here, we should get food for the week. I think we’re running out of coffee beans too,” Kaveh noted.

Alhaitham hummed. “Be my guest, but I have business in Port Ormos.”

The words were so unexpected Kaveh nearly stopped in his tracks, but he couldn’t be seen taking big strides to Alhaitham again. “What kind of business? Since when do you suddenly leave for Port Ormos? And for an extended amount of time...”

“I will be there for the duration of my investigation which is an unspecified amount of time,” he said plainly.

Kaveh subconsciously gripped the peach. “Could you be any more cryptic? Use your words like a true Haravatat scholar, Alhaitham,” he complained.

“My cryptic words are a result of courtesy for that busy project of yours,” he said, completely condescending, “but it seems some minds will always be left to wander in the face of procrastination.”

Compared to Alhaitham’s low tone, Kaveh rushed to blurt his frustration with the other. “Stop pestering me and just tell me what it is already!” Some bystanders swept their gaze across the two. Had this have not been an embarrassing regular occurrence, perhaps someone would’ve intervened.

It might have been subtle, but the wavering expression from Alhaitham caught him off guard. Kaveh flailed as he followed Alhaitham to a secluded area. Kaveh was upset that this needed to be such a big deal and that of all things, Alhaitham’s hint of nerves was enough to keep Kaveh silent. So many things to say yet so unaware of how things would pan out.

At that point, Kaveh lost his appetite, so he threw out the peach.

When they were finally away from the crowded Treasure Street, Alhaitham faced him with a neutral expression. What happened to that timid look? Surely Alhaitham wasn’t that good an actor.

“According to Cyno, Port Ormos has spontaneously become a melting pot of opinions for a certain academic paper,” Alhaitham started.

“I don’t see why talk of an academic paper was so mysterious that you had to bring me all the way out here,” he said with some sass. The frustration for anticipation of this big conflict ate at him. “You do realize Sumeru is the melting pot of research. There is going to be talk of an academic paper here or there.”

Maybe Alhaitham took offense since he shuddered back in detest. “Perhaps your snarky tongue will be dry when you hear the paper in question is about the runes and architectural philosophy of King Deshret’s civilization.”

All it took was one peach to make Kaveh’s stomach churn.

“What in the world do people want with that dusty old thing!?” Kaveh exclaimed, catching Alhaitham off guard. “It’s unfinished, unorganized, and probably out of date! Who in their right mind would bright it to light again?”

Alhaitham didn’t answer.

“Ah, I see. You don’t know so you’re going to Port Ormos to find out,” he observed.

Now Kaveh fully understood why Alhaitham withheld the information in the first place. The topic of their research project never reached their conversations. Since Kaveh moved in, even the vilest of arguments never touched that subject. Their fallout during their collaboration of that thesis was one they didn’t recover from for seven years. Yet, had recovery been an accurate way to describe their current situation?

How cruel had fate been to reintroduce this into their lives? Especially at a stressful time for Kaveh. Fate was nearly as annoying as Alhaitham.

The blasphemy of it all was that Kaveh seriously considered his options. After frankly not long enough thought, he said, “You know what, that commissioner was creepy anyway. The ‘I’ll find you’ attitude is not something I want to deal with. I’m coming with you!” he asserted.

Alhaitham rolled his eyes…eye rolling! That was what Kaveh got for a response like that!

“You’re making an impulsive decision,” Alhaitham said with his arms crossed.

Kaveh grit his teeth. “Why would you care? I’m the only one who will reap the consequences,” he argued.

“You’re forgetting I must deal with your haphazard mood swings when you come home empty handed and begging to extend your rent dues,” he said flatly as if he had that sentence prepared this whole time.

For all of the seething Kaveh did behind the scenes, he decided to be the better person and not instigate more of Alhaitham’s trickery. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m getting on a boat tomorrow to Port Ormos whether you like it or not. I’m going home to pack my bags.”

Kaveh turned around to walk back, but Alhaitham sped ahead. “Will you at least slow down!?” Kaveh’s growls were soon silenced by the appearance of Mehrak with a small bag in its possession, and his entire demeanor completely changed. “Oh good. You managed to get the coffee beans,” he said with the gentleness of a mother.

“Not the same ones from last week I hope,” Alhaitham said.

“I removed those from Mehrak’s catalogue,” he replied. “Just the usual this time.”

Alhaitham hummed in acceptance as they continued their trek home.

Chapter Text

The swaying boat left Kaveh ill. Especially since he kept his nose buried in his bag. Overnight clothes and toiletries hid the trenches of his subconscious from Alhaitham and himself. The mere thought of what nuisances lurked made him ache.

“Unless you’re planning to trek back on your own, it’s far too late to recover anything from home,” Alhaitham said.

The innocent beeps from his toolbox offered assistance.

“No, Mehrak,” Kaveh murmured with a gentle caress of its metal. “You’re not going that far alone. Besides, I’m not missing anything!” he retorted—an eager jab at the man who couldn’t mind his own business. As timely as the sun’s rise and fall, his irritation fed into Alhaitham’s lousy attempt for attention.

With a hand on his hip and an accusatory finger, Kaveh spouted, “You will never understand the importance of precaution with that dangerously light load of yours. How is it that you survive on a few garments and a toothbrush!?”

Alhaitham bore that stuck-up smile that Kaveh tried so hard to ignore. “Port Ormos is more than capable of supplying its guests with cosmetics. If we were to stay the night, I would simply utilize the hotel room supplies and purchase whatever else I need. You would understand if you had the Mora to spare.”

Yet again Alhaitham pulled the lowest of low insults: commenting on his lack of Mora.

“Or perhaps organization would better suit your time,” he continued. “The error may not be your contents, but your disheveled belongings.”

Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose in attempt to filter out every word of his. “No more, Alhaitham. Can you at least allow me a peaceful boat ride?” he pleaded.

With no qualms from Alhaitham, Kaveh dropped his bag and slumped in the nearest seat. Soon after, Mehrak brushed his leg and powered off at his side. On the other hand, Alhaitham found a seat as well and pulled out a book as if all were right with the world.

Finally, after that chaotic morning, he had peace and quiet.

The quiet chatter of Vimara Village filled their silence. Kaveh shifted in his seat to escape the stress of their travel. Yesterday, the moment Alhaitham brought up the ongoings of their thesis, Kaveh realized he barely brushed the surface of his woes. For the rest of the day, his mind teetered on questions like how in Teyvat it became popular in the first place, to imagined conversations between them stemming from this mess.

Although Kaveh’s feelings about their dispute were distant, they had a nasty habit of rehashing themselves. Case in point: the puffiness under his eyes from a lack of sleep. Did Alhaitham feel same way? Knowing him and his reactions from yesterday, he probably had some reservations, but it was hard to imagine where they stood.

“It’s not unlikely a change in scenery would aid inspiration,” Alhaitham said amidst the silence. Such an unexpected sentence…

“What could you possibly mean by that?” Kaveh said flatly.

Alhaitham glanced at the bag. “You brought your sketchbook, right?”

An internal gasp sent Kaveh for a spin. “How do you know that!?”

“The door was cracked open while you were packing,” he explained.

After that, Kaveh couldn’t relinquish a single word from his addled mind, so instead, he sat back and sighed. “As if I haven't been to Port Ormos a million times,” he complained. “It’s not unfamiliar to me and therefore provides no source of inspiration.” Rattled sentences fueled an underlying sense of detest towards his pen.

“Then you are blind to your own significance,” Alhaitham uttered. Narrow eyes penetrated Kaveh’s attention.

What did that even mean…?

Unamused by whatever the other man tried to imply, Kaveh gazed at their destination. The arch bridge connecting the gargantuan tree stump of Port Ormos came into view. A sigh reverberated in his hollowed thoughts at the fortuitous sight.

Long ago, a fresh-out-of-the-Akademiya Kaveh carried his highly accredited resume with pride. Flooded with promises of grand horizons, people gawked at his abilities both in and out of the Akademiya. Reputation carried him through commissions even if his personal thoughts about the growing distain towards art saw difficulties maintaining it.

To forgo humility, assigned head of Port Ormos’s bridge project did not surprise him. This was the crux of his career, of course a lofty assignment lingered around the corner.

Brimming with excitement, he turned to his paper with disposition. Chosen for his finesse, he handled the complexities of the design with attentiveness. At times, he would overthink, overdo, redo, yet his saving grace was never the pressure of getting it right, but the idea of his art appreciated by some future artist.

For the average person, they concerned themselves with functionality. For an architect, they understood a bridge used as a practical centerpiece needed to subtly compliment the surrounding structures. For Kaveh, a foundation worthy of heartfelt preservation meant passing his art onto the next generation of architects. Like the function of renovations for the Pharos Lighthouse, they would add their own interpretation onto his own. A living commentary of the space.

A greater purpose for this bridge—artistic expression, he once thought, but during a time when the Akademiya increasingly resented the arts, he hid this philosophy entirely.

From all-nighter after all-nighter, just like any of his other works, the bridge came out flawless. Despite the stress, seeing the finished product meant his lofty ideals subtly carried themselves beyond his lifetime.

Festering in his very soul was an understanding of what Alhaitham meant. Subtle reminders of his past work pulled him through the headache of this brief blinding light of such an irritable project request. One he, despite his best interest, couldn't put down.

The light bump of the boat chased Kaveh out of his head. The waves gurgled through the port as the captain docked the small sailboat. Alhaitham, already stood, tipped the captain a generous amount and stepped off. Kaveh gritted his teeth at the Mora he threw around—not that the captain didn’t deserve the tip, but that Alhaitham didn’t deserve to be rolling in its excess.

“You’re eager,” Kaveh mumbled as he fumbled behind. Mehrak’s energized mechanisms copied Kaveh’s rancor before disappearing into the realm Kaveh calls him from.

“Preparation is key to efficiency. Something you should take time to learn,” he bit back.

A muted groan at the back of his throat tugged at his thoughts as he squeezed the strap of his bag. That man didn’t even have the time of day to look at him while he spoke. How annoying.

Fighting words stood at the tip of his tongue, but Alhaitham didn’t hesitate to continue walking. “We are to meet Cyno soon.”

“He’s still here?” Kaveh said, trying to keep with Alhaitham’s pace.

“He surveyed the situation ever since he informed me about it. You should know disturbances related to the Akademiya and its subsequent research are his specialty,” he said, almost a little cocky.

Cocking his head in return, Kaveh muttered, “Obviously.” Then, he pressed his lips together in unease, piecing together Alhaitham’s plan. “In that case, there’s no reason for you to investigate the situation. Instead, the true reason you’re here is to act as bait.” His persuasive glare prompted Alhaitham to admit the other was right.

Alhaitham did meet his gaze but didn’t give him the satisfaction. “And I expect you to fulfill that role too,” he said, soft-spoken.

Those delicate words caught Kaveh by surprise.

Mere seconds later, he noticed a few keen eyes following them. An unusual number of Akademiya students wandered the streets. Those who identified Kaveh and Alhaitham whispered amongst themselves and a merchant or two eyed their movements.

Agitation grazed Kaveh’s body like the light scrape of a stray, barren branch in the forest. This many eyes searching for answers on his person made him uncomfortable. So much so that he hadn’t noticed Alhaitham’s slower pace until now.

Nerves?

No, that wasn’t Alhaitham, but to stray back for Kaveh to be near in a moment of unpleasant stares? Arguably, that could be. Sometimes, the man had his moments.

“How bothersome,” he breathed.

Kaveh matched his hushed tone, “How did someone even dig up that paper anyway?”

“Begrudgingly, we weren’t the only ones who had a copy. I suspect the others who trickled out of the project may still have remnants of old drafts,” he said while scanning the area. “I doubt any of it is substantial because what was publish is unfinished.”

The ocean breeze disheveled Kaveh’s lengthy accessories and parted his hair awkwardly. In the time it took him to collect himself, a young Akademiya student approached and blocked their path.

The student held a stack of fresh papers with unfamiliar writing. “You’re…Kaveh and…Alhaitham, right?” he asked, reading through their names carefully on the front page. “Your names are on this research. Could you tell me about it?”

Assuming those papers were indeed a reprint of their thesis, Kaveh quickly saw through the incorrect formatting and lack of formality for an Akademiya paper. This student appeared far too innocent to realize he acquired a fake.

Alhaitham glared at the student, causing him to fall silent.

With an elbow to Alhaitham’s side, Kaveh said, “I would, but surely you haven’t read through it yet?” The student looked at him with a drawn-out frown. “It lacks the clarity of a proper report,” he lectured. “You don’t believe this to be the real version, do you?”

“Oh…I just got it today. I tried my best to read some of it, but I couldn’t make sense of it. I assumed I’m not worthy enough to understand, but then I saw you two. I thought it would be better if you explained it to me than if I read it myself.” Alhaitham crossed his arms. “I did spend a great sum of Mora on this. I really need your help to graduate,” he pleaded.

Kaveh knew all too well how a person like this frustrated Alhaitham—him too—but he had to get the first word in before the other began his usual criticizing.

“What value does this paper have to you? And so much so it’s enough to make a market from selling it…” Kaveh trailed off in thought. “It’s just an outdated, incomplete thesis,” he said dismissively.

“But your name is on the paper…How do you not see the value in it?” the student argued.

A shattered breath ruptured Kaveh’s lungs. He squeezed his hands into a fist, digging his nails into his palms. The pressure gave him a release from his boiling thoughts.

“I’ve heard there’s a secret so rich buried in its conclusion that it could change the researcher’s life forever.” The student’s eyes filled with stars. The type of wonder that a child gave for a fairytale.

Any form of professionalism as a graduate talking to a student slipped from his grasp because this whimsy from their paper felt like a joke. “Hah! That’s ridiculous!” he laughed and held out a hand. As he calmed down, he said, “Indulge me, will you?”

The student obeyed and gave the uniform stack of fresh paper to him. Such a meaningless weight came into his hands. Kaveh couldn’t help but recoil his expression. The feather in his hair held more emotional depth than this tactile lie.

Alhaitham stood over his shoulder as he flipped through the pages. “It’s useless to teach someone these concepts if they are only interested in some fantastical outcome. Besides, he is far beyond the academic prowess capable of understanding it. He couldn’t even decipher this scam.”

There it was. Alhaitham’s snarky response.

The paper left his hands in a brisk upheaval. “I will take this with me. Let it be known that your Mora’s only use will be towards evidence of the seller’s transgressions,” Alhaitham asserted.

The student panicked. “I…spent all my savings on it. You can’t just take it from me!”

Kaveh raised his voice, “Alhaitham…!” In quick movements, he grabbed his wrist, keeping the paper at arm’s length, but Alhaitham hadn’t jut back or refused his touch. Instead, Alhaitham relaxed his grip, and so did Kaveh. If he wanted to return it to the student, he had all the reasons and opportunity to do so, but he hesitated. This hadn’t turned into a full-blown argument, yet, but in all the words they threw around, they never got physical. Never had to fight for control of an object or fear for the opposing hand. Some never-established line of theirs was nearly crossed. All for this incessant paper.

Luckily, Alhaitham wasn’t so bothered and Kaveh brushed it off for other pressing matters.

“You shouldn’t insult someone to their face like that. You’re kicking him while he’s down,” Kaveh said in a calmer tone. “Even if he made a mistake, you can’t ruin all his chances of redeeming himself. Maybe he could go back and return it—”

“You should’ve looked at the paper more carefully. The seller clarified they wouldn’t accept refunds,” he said, showing Kaveh the fine print of a stamp at the bottom corner of the first page. It in fact read, “No refunds!”

“Then…after we bring this in, he can be reimbursed,” Kaveh assured, pointing his attention to the student who stood shaken at their debate.

Alhaitham growled, “The Matra only reimburse to a certain amount,” which Kaveh hoped included “all my savings.”

“Who’s to say he doesn’t turn around and buy into other shortcuts?” Alhaitham’s cautionary glower served well towards the student’s silence. The paper crinkled in Alhaitham’s hand which snapped Kaveh’s attention back on him. “Besides, I should have autonomy over my own research, no? I don’t approve of people selling it. No academic paper should be bought and sold.”

His eyes, his expression…they looked tired. Tired of this student and tired of this conversation. Specifically, the grand scheme of this conversation. Conflicts often arose from the manipulation of knowledge from research flooding the market.

The student, now accepting the lost cause, ceased all concepts of attempts to retrieve the paper and sighed at his defeat.

Kaveh turned to the student. “I’m sorry your money was spent on this. I’ll see what I can do.” He perked up at the mere glimmer of hope. The Akademiya hat fell over his eyes, and he hurried to take it off. “Don’t depend on someone else’s skills in place of your own ability to reason. Keep working hard at the Akademiya.” Hopefully, those words broke through that student’s encompassing need to cut corners.

With an intuitive smile, he stepped away and joined Alhaitham walking further into the heart of Port Ormos.

“You handled that very poorly,” Kaveh muttered.

Alhaitham flailed the paper around. “I should expect to hear thanks for obtaining evidence, yet you criticize my methods.”

“He was just a kid…”

“A kid who was on his way to graduating soon. His final thesis should not have basis in stolen and counterfeit information. For that matter, he should stay in the Akademiya a few more years to learn to decipher reliable sources and the value of his own work,” Alhaitham argued.

An all-encompassing sigh ran through Kaveh’s body. “You never give it a break, do you?” The hand on his forehead prepared for the eventual headache of this conversation. “If you even had a slither of compassion, you might just be liked by a few people, you know.”

“It’s far beyond my concern to care what passersby think of me,” he said. A pregnant pause rested between his words. “Kaveh, you are not obliged to cater to everyone.”

Those words were…dangerously close to scraping up old wounds. For some reason, the millions of times he warned Kaveh of his altruism before didn’t gnaw at him like this time…or the first.

Kaveh followed Alhaitham to the Djafar Tavern, but not without his blood boiling from Alhaitham’s nonchalant attitude. The attentive waiters and their services prepared for the upcoming lunch hour. Surrounding the tavern, several shop owners and workers grew lethargic from the afternoon, prepared to halt their attention. While everyone was at the brink of leaving work, Kaveh and Alhaitham just began theirs.

As they turned to the tables, Cyno’s curious glare at Kaveh overtook greetings. Kaveh stared back with a lackadaisical sigh. Alhaitham stood between their silent exchange and took the first seat. Quieting his thoughts, Kaveh took the seat next to him and got comfortable for the conversation ahead.

“I’m all caught up, Cyno. Tell it like it is,” Kaveh started.

“Then I’m not surprised considering this does heavily involve you too.” Cyno peered at Alhaitham as if there was an exchange prior to this where someone advocated for Kaveh’s presence.

Cyno relaxed his shoulders and cleared his throat. “As you can see, we’re here under the inconspicuous umbrella. No one will notice us,” he said with a playful tone. Clearly to ease the mood. For some reason, it did set Kaveh’s mind in the right space.

“How was the trip?” Cyno asked. “Run into any interested parties?”

They did. They definitely did, and Alhaitham gracefully procured evidence.

“An Akademiya scholar asking us for an explanation of the thesis.” Alhaitham placed the copy on the table, but Kaveh looked bitterly at the pile of papers.

Cyno sifted through the pages. “I heard there was a market for it. I’m glad you managed to obtain a copy,” he affirmed.

Kaveh rested a cheek on his hand. The wooden table scraped at his elbow, but he managed. A small distraction for his burning thoughts of Alhaitham’s interaction with that kid. He needed to cool down.

Cyno sat upright leaving the fake thesis limp on the table. “I may have an idea who it is judging by the quality of the ink and paper. I also have some reliable leads. I’m confident I’ll have confirmation by the end of the day.”

This would be over soon. The best news to receive, right?

Then, a question pressed at the forefront of his mind practically giving Kaveh a headache. Cyno caught him pondering and expected him to speak.

“Out of all the papers in the Akademiya, who would be interested enough to spread a dangerous rumor about this one?” Kaveh looked down and clasped his hands together. “A paper that’s not even properly published?”

“I assume the scholar had the same motives exhibited by everyone else,” Cyno said.

“Some secret buried in the conclusion,” Kaveh said with disinterest. “With emphasis on the, ‘would change your life’ part.” A not particularly good attempt was made to hide his sneer.

“Yes, it seems ridiculous that people would believe this claim, but inherently it’s not. If you’re down on your luck and searching for something—anything to keep you afloat,” Kaveh shifted in his seat, “with such a large sample size, greed and desire would certainly make themselves known,” Cyno explained. “The fact that it’s not fully published gave the origin of this rumor its backbone to spread creating interested parties that think they can be the ones to obtain this so-called miracle.

“One of your previous research partners finding their own incomplete copy simply fueled the flame.”

“So, our assumptions were right,” Kaveh said, melancholy at the prospect of it all.

A lock of hair fell in his view. He tucked it behind his ear, revealing Alhaitham’s face and unequivocal words. “Greed and desire are dangerous in a person. Only an individual can know what lengths they would go through to fulfill those motives.”

The wind blew, interjecting in their conversation for a second.

“And you’re sure you’re okay to go through with this plan?” Cyno said. “Your presence alone is enough to draw out prying eyes.”

“We noticed,” Kaveh said flatly.

Cyno clenched his jaw. “I will be here the whole time, but you must be careful.”

The last thing Kaveh wanted was to make him worry. “We’ll be fine,” he reassured. “It’s not like we haven’t gotten in a snag before.”

Cyno took one heavy breath and exhaled to calm his nerves. “Okay.” He launched out of his seat with such a force, the bench moved back, scraping against the stone. “Then you two should take advantage of today.” He pointed to the sky imitating the insightfulness of a professor. “If you’re ever in any danger, Cy-know where to find you.”

A begrudging moan escaped Kaveh’s lips. Even Alhaitham couldn’t hide his discontent. “Sometimes I wonder how Tighnari ever puts up with you,” Kaveh said lightheartedly.

Cyno placed his hand on Alhaitham’s shoulder on his way out. “I wonder the same thing,” he said, but Kaveh felt Tighnari wasn’t the one he referred to.

Lucky. Cyno was lucky Kaveh wasn’t in the mood for tearing him to pieces after that comment.

Not too long after, Cyno disappeared into the trickling crowd.

The shop owners flipped their signs that now said, “Be back after lunch.” They gathered their belongings, said hi to friends, and made their way to the tavern. Today, Kaveh needed to be more observant than usual. Who among the crowd had prying eyes and papers in their hands. Kaveh still wasn’t exactly sure what they looked for but if their stance as bait held true, a clue must show itself at some point.

“A potato boat will do,” Alhaitham said casually.

A waitress stood at their table. Kaveh looked Alhaitham up and down as if he said something preposterous. “Hm? You’re hungry now?” He didn’t mean for his words to come out the way they did—judgmental and overzealous, because he too felt the hunger settle in.

“I’d recommending eating before the rain comes in.”

Just moments ago, the clouds were few and far between, but it’s not uncommon for the sea to bring in windy weather and quick rain.

Kaveh hummed in contemplation. “I’ll have the same,” he said to the waitress. She nodded and left them to their own accord.

Among the crowds and noisy conversations, the two had a quiet space to themselves. Kaveh slipped a hand into his bag. The thought of his sketchbook prickled at him in absence of conversation, but their food arrived, and the chatter of people picked up as customers filled up the remaining tables.

As luck had it, no one paid much attention to the two. The umbrella really was inconspicuous.

At the mere mention of their project by someone in passing, Kaveh understood Alhaitham’s silence. It became a simple topic of gossip among several people as they slid between other small talk and scuttlebutt. The general public didn’t necessarily care about the paper’s implications and instead utilized it as a talking point.

However, one person put their unruly two cents in and explained how they were beyond the genius of the Akademiya Scribe and the Light of Kshahrewar. A comment which replaced the satisfaction of cheese and mushroom with a bitter sensation.

The whole time, Alhaitham remained composed. Perhaps these unorthodox praises went to his head. Or his food settled in his stomach, occupying any breath for commentary surrounding their people watching. After staring at him for so long, Alhaitham noticed and gave him an offended look as if Kaveh rudely interrupted his meal. That’s when it clicked. His eyes darted back and forth from ear to ear remembering how Alhaitham adjusted his headphones before they ate. Those noise canceling headphones of his were turned on!

Kaveh slammed his hands down on the table a little too loudly. “You haven’t heard a thing since we started eating! Done collecting evidence now that Cyno’s busy!?”

Alhaitham paused, not because he couldn’t hear him, because he certainly did, but probably because he expected more from Kaveh’s frustration. Kaveh truly had nothing more to say because he actually envied Alhaitham’s peace. If he had the ability to block the sounds of needless chatter right now of all times, he too would take it.

“Precisely,” Alhaitham answered.

Kaveh sighed and slouched in his chair. Alhaitham appeared more prepared, more in control of the situation. He had more time to process this mess, and Kaveh threw himself in the deep end without learning to tread the water. He drowned in the realization that painful memories seeped through the cracks in the dam.

By the time they paid the bill, a light drizzle reached the port.

“I thought we should stop by the market under the canopy. It would at least get us out of the rain.” Kaveh said.

So, Alhaitham slipped away from the table and trailed behind Kaveh into the stony entryway held by the roots of the hallowed tree. The rain blew in just after they made in under. Past the boxes and storage containers, they entered to the tranquil side of Port Ormos. While sailors and dockworkers busied the port and braved the weather, the warm lights of homes and shops beckoned them in. From the other entrance, a few people rushed into the clutches of the tree and various tarps strung across the open ceiling. The smell of spices relaxed the moist air, and the light chatter drowned out the patter outside. This secluded corner was perfectly made for quiet shopping after a meal.

Despite the odd glance here or there, Kaveh felt relatively comfortable in the space. “I guess we’re stuck here for the time being,” he said.

“Hardly an inconvenience. I can find use in a place like this,” Alhaitham said, turning to a decorative stand with a variety of antiques.

The stand consisted of large vases, old tapestries, jewelry, and many trinkets, but what caught Kaveh’s eye were the old artifacts. He heard of this place before. The shop owner delivered the most reliable appraisals and was popular among historians and Haravatat scholars. He wondered how much Alhaitham frequented if ever at all.

Taking in the variety of goods, he browsed the collection of items. While most were from the past century, there were a few sections of relics of varying eras from the three God-Kings. The Dendro Archon’s were the most recent out of the three but still before she dawned the child form of today. Dinnerware, decorative glass pieces, and furnishings littered the tables. While antique and still well over 500 years old, these were likely family heirlooms preserved through the generations. Traditionally, families would maintain the same house their entire life. Only in recent decades did that tradition break. Perhaps one of his own heirlooms lied here.

Kaveh joined Alhaitham who caught the attention of the owner. “Could you have a look at these?” he asked, handing over the Djed Pillars.

Kaveh blinked and pointed at the objects. “You don’t plan on selling them, do you?”

“What other use for them did you have in mind? Care to have them as décor?” Alhaitham’s sarcasm left Kaveh in a sour state.

Then, Kaveh scrunched his nose at a terrifying thought: “You don’t need any more Mora!”

“These are Djed Pillars!” The appraiser’s astonishment cut through their bickering quicker than the rain through the serene day. In the possession of the shop owner, the pillars were treated like delicate specimens. “How did you come across these? And two nonetheless!”

“You know what they are?” Kaveh asked. Since the texts in the Akademiya were few and far between, he assumed only the Temple of Silence had information on them. Odd…Sethos was surprised, but not this antsy.

“Coming from a long line of appraisers, my family would pick up a thing or two spread through word of mouth or ancient artifacts people brought in. It’s a wonder what people have lying around their house…case in point. Never in my life did I think I’d see…these.” He looked at them very closely, admiring their condition and shape. “The Djed was created in remembrance of the dead and placed with the deceased in their tomb as a gift.”

That much they knew.

“However, not a single Djed was known to leave its owner’s tomb,” he continued. “It’s assumed some elemental property keeps them tied to it so if someone were to take one, it’d eventually find its way back through unknown means.”

That information was entirely new.

The appraiser laughed at the implications of it all. “It’s a miracle you’ve had these in your hands long enough to bring them to me.”

Sethos didn’t tell them this. Did he know? Or is this information just unreliable word of mouth? Even so, Sethos did let them keep the artifacts, and they’ve stayed in their possession for weeks on end.

The shop owner scratched his chin and stared. “How did you obtain these?”

Kaveh kneaded his hands together in nervous motions. “Well, after you explained everything like that…would you believe they just…appeared?” Kaveh said nervously. “I promise we didn’t steal them! We just came across them…”

The shop owner hesitated. “I believe you,” he said as if thinking about potential regret, “but I cannot appraise such things. They deserve to be returned to the desert and whoever’s tomb they belong to.”

He took Alhaitham’s hand and curled his fingers around the Djed Pillars to ensure he didn't drop them.

“Understood…” Kaveh said, confused and a little lethargic. He thought this matter was long done and dealt with, but how did it snowball? How did such a complicated matter end up in their hands?

Two in fact. Two complicated matters.

Alhaitham pocketed the pillars. “We’ll be on our way then,” he said.

“No, we won’t!” Kaveh interjected. “I want to look around.”

“Fine.” He followed Kaveh to another half of the stand.

An empty stare fell on the collection of antiques. Thoughts piled in his head, waiting for the right ones to come into words. Something about the conflicting rationale from Sethos and this shop owner sat uneasy with him. Word of mouth was a truth wrapped in a game of Liyue whispers. Even if this truth wasn’t entirely plausible, Kaveh couldn’t shake a feeling his concerns weren’t unwarranted.

“Sethos didn’t say anything about elemental energy binding it to the owner’s tomb,” Kaveh whispered.

“I know.”

“There’s got to be more to these than just—”

“Let’s focus on one thing at a time.” His tender hand pressed on Kaveh’s back and walked him to the jewelry. “You were trying to pick something out?”

Just like that, Kaveh shoved aside his pressing thoughts to make room for this glaring eye candy of antiques. Amulets of dazzling gems that caught the light in glorious colors reflected on his face as he held them to the sky. A green gem with a kite shaped cut mirrored his curiosity. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought the very presence of King Deshret remained within it.

While his knowledge was limited, he once splurged in the history of jewelry and accessories enough to notice details of their origin. He brushed his hand over the pieces he observed were in commemoration of the Goddess of Flowers and artistry from her era. Beyond the flower symbolism, the purple hues and specific cut of the material invoked her influence. For example, the marquise cut interwoven with the band reflected the flow of her dance and the gracefulness of her nature. A piece or two here reminded him of Nilou’s style.

Interested in a broach, he examined its unique Padisarah design and deep purple color.

“That one is a family heirloom of mine—only by association of never selling,” the owner joked. Kaveh turned it around, noticing the lack of a maker’s mark. “It’s said to have been in the hands of the Goddess of Flowers herself. However, the craftsmanship seems a couple hundred years ahead of its time,” he chuckled.

He rubbed his thumb on the silver, imagining himself polishing the tarnish and brightening that purple hue. Regardless of its fallacious story, the broach was pretty.

“You are good people,” the owner said walking towards the scene. “Why don’t you take it? As a promise you’ll return the Djed Pillars.”

“Oh, but there’s no need for that,” Kaveh said. He quickly clinked it back on the table. “You don’t want to let go something that’s been with you for so long for free, do you? Let me pay…” Kaveh reached for his very Mora scarce bag, unprepared for its value. Embarrassment flooded his cheeks just imagining Alhaitham mocking him for biting off more than he could chew.

The appraiser picked it up himself and offered it once again. “Ah, there is some sentiment I hold for it, but I think it would have better use in your hands. Please, take it,” he said.

“You should accept it, Kaveh. It’s not every day you’re relieved from dipping into your bank account,” Alhaitham said.

While Kaveh appreciated he didn’t necessarily reveal his debt to the world, the subtext of the remark left him very annoyed. Only Alhaitham knew words to pick at him with while the outside laid in wait to know their meaning.

A sour glare bled into appreciation as soon as he turned back to the appraiser. “I guess I will take this then. Thank you.” Kaveh squeezed the broach in hand. “As promised, we’ll see what we can do about the Djed Pillars.”

The shop owner nodded and said, “Good luck.” He might as well have added, “You’re going to need it.”

As they continued down the street, the other shoppers and residents passed by, communally enjoying themselves. Even if he hadn’t bought anything yet, spending a moment on retail therapy felt like a nice change of pace. It certainly calmed his agitated mood and kept his mind present rather than dazed from the hypothetical.

Even if this day developed from the looming presence of their thesis, he felt grateful for the break. Especially since his other option was that daunting commission.

The gentle music that carried a street performer through her movements quelled Kaveh’s growing sense of someone following them.

That’s when someone stopped them in their tracks. A person with loose clothing, frayed hair, and a relaxed demeanor. “I’m Jayant,” he said with confidence. “I’ve gathered a lot of information surrounding your little project.”

“Oh? And what might that be?” Alhaitham said, sporting a sincerity that Kaveh knew all too well disguised an unserious and derisive tone.

A heavy sigh from Kaveh followed suit for whatever antics were about to ensue.

With a hand on his hip and a braggart smile, Jayant spoke with confidence about his findings, “For one, I think the paper on the market is far from the real one you wrote. I heard from many Akademiya scholars that it’s far from the vocabulary of a Haravatat scholar.” A confident smile ensued. “As for why the conclusion isn’t written…it’s because you abandoned the project.”

So far so good…enough to keep Alhaitham entertained who lifted an eyebrow in interest.

Jayant continued, “Buuuut, you abandoned it because…you found something during your research!”

There it is.

“That’s why people are so interested in it! But it must be dangerous. And you’re here to prevent people from finding out the truth. Am I right?” Jayant awaited their affirmation. Affirmation that would never come to pass.

The collective sigh from Kaveh and Alhaitham rang loudly through their system. Both him and Alhaitham walked away, but Jayant wouldn’t let up.

“Hey, where are you going?” he called. “You can at least give me a hint if I’m headed in the right direction.”

In their effortless attempt to escape, they heard a strained, frail voice call them over, “You two! Over here!” They sped up their pace to the old man beckoning them to his shop, and as soon as Jayant saw them occupied, he gave up.

“Your time is better spent outside all these rumors,” the shop owner said. “An old man like me has no interest in such things. I’m Pooria.”

Kaveh smiled. “Thank you, Pooria.” Then, the display of jewelry caught Kaveh’s eye.

“Feel free to look around,” Pooria said.

Beautiful gold pieces were laid out for display on tables of soft cloth. Necklaces, rings, and earpieces, all crafted with extreme care, captured his fine taste. Gold always complimented Kaveh’s palette, and he shopped almost exclusively for this metal. Albeit he did just acquire a piece outside of that exclusivity, but while antiques were polite, these were classy and of fine quality…but also reasonably exorbitant.

“Maybe once you finish that commission of yours, you could afford this jewelry,” Alhaitham teased.

What a rather unnecessary jab at him…With a scoff, Kaveh said, “An architect’s job involves finding the beauty in things and only by filling my mind with tasteful crafts can I truly be inspired for anything.” He poked an accusatory finger on Alhaitham’s chest. “You were the one who said a change of scenery would do me some good.”

Alhaitham’s deadpan stare crawled up Kaveh’s spine, eating away at any self-sustaining resolve he maintained. “It doesn’t hurt to look!” he blurted.

Alhaitham stood up straight and crossed his arms with an annoying confidence. What Kaveh wouldn’t do to humble him. “How about this…Next time I spot a good furniture piece in which you so hastily say is a waste of Mora, I’ll make up some lofty excuse similar to the one you just gave me so I can browse,” Alhaitham said with an all too smug expression.

With an eye roll Kaveh said, “Your definition of good should be reworked entirely if that’s what you call your taste in furniture.”

Kaveh clenched his jaw and stared into Alhaitham’s unbothered eyes.

That look of victory…

That smile of satisfaction…

That familiar…care—the type he puts into his exasperating words!

“Ugh, never mind,” Kaveh groaned. Then, his inattention to his mumbling revealed too much from his mind, “I may have come here for you, but if you could grant me indulgence for just one moment…”

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Pooria said.

Kaveh whipped his head around to address the shopkeeper he forgot about. The separation between their conversations and the rest of the world became more of a window than a fine veil.

“Might I ask if you would be interested in a custom-made piece? I would be willing to give you a hefty discount, and you wouldn’t even have to pay for it today!” he offered. “An old man like me with little use for Mora appreciates my craft more than what I make out of it.” Wrinkles moved with his smile.

Kaveh waved his hands around dismissing the notion. He wasn’t even sure he could afford a discount. “Oh, that’s very kind of you but…”

The old man advanced and took Kaveh’s hand. He wrapped his ribbon measuring tape around his ring finger. “I only ask because I know I would enjoy making jewelry for you two.”

The hitch in his breath felt painfully obvious. He slipped his hand away and shook his head. “I-It’s not like that…I appreciate the offer, but we’re just passing through.”

He backed into Alhaitham who caught him by the shoulders. The touch caught him off guard and he gasped. Embarrassment killed him on the inside, and it didn't help that his heart sped up by the second. Flushed cheeks gave him away, but not enough to distract him from the conspicuous glances a few eremites gave to the scene.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Pooria said. “Please come back if you ever change your mind. I would be happy to offer you the same deal.”

“Right…thank you,” Kaveh said awkwardly.

The next thing he knew, he grabbed Alhaitham’s wrist and pulled him away from the stand. “I can’t be around you anywhere without needless bickering and unnecessary exchanges!” The audacity to have made him deal with the situation by himself! The audacity to let that man whittle him down to some wannabe spouse.

Out of earshot from the stand, Kaveh halted with Alhaitham at his beckoning command. Good. Kaveh shot piecing arrows at the other with his eyes. “You’re so infuriating. Maybe I should get back to my commission. Would that make you happy? Then I could scrounge enough Mora to get out of your way. I didn’t come to tail you all day.”

Completely unfazed, Alhaitham spoke in the regular sarcastic and taunting tone he only used to pester his roommate, “Hmm…but you don’t mean that. You said something different earlier.”

“What do you mean? What did I say!?” His own agitation fueled Alhaitham’s barely recognizable smile as he turned and walked away.

“Alhaitham!!!”

The market practically echoed with Kaveh’s voice, but no matter, because they left rather quickly. He followed Alhaitham up the hill beside Port Ormos’s tree. A gentle breeze parted the clouds just enough to see the sun setting along the horizon. It gently lit their faces with soft orange hues and shining gold. Several birds flew nearby, picked worms off the ground, and bathed in puddles of water. A passing thought from Kaveh grew jealous of their free life.

On the hill, they had the perfect view of ships coming into the harbor. Even for a moment of sunlight, there was just enough darkness for the lighthouse to activate. Another laborious thought.

An eternity passed before one of them spoke.

“Did you always look at your work with dread?” Alhaitham said.

“No,” Kaveh said defensively. Then, he spoke in hushed tones. “I don’t normally. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Someone promises all the creative freedom I want and suddenly I feel dejected. I’m afraid…” Kaveh didn’t want to voice those thoughts. “And with this situation going…”

 “Well, you look ridiculous with those thoughts,” Alhaitham said plainly.

“What?” he breathed.

“You wouldn’t fret over these projects so much if you didn’t love them.” Alhaitham stared at the sea.

“Of course I love my work.” Kaveh huffed a self-deprecating breath. “I’m just impatient. Sometimes clients give me so many restrictions that my work loses all artistry attached. Other times they don’t give me any at all…which can be even more cumbersome. I think one day…I want to be able to create something for myself.”

“Hm. You have your work cut out for you then.”

Kaveh scoffed. For someone forced to endure his antics, Alhaitham sure knew how to play with his strings.

Kaveh crossed his arms and jutted his hips. “And you’re no help!”

Alhaitham gave a rare smile with his eyes. Kaveh couldn't help but smile too.

The moment quickly faded.

Kaveh noticed it. The looming thread of the reason they were at Port Ormos in the first place—their research paper. It shrouded over them the second Alhaitham mentioned it yesterday. Like the rain that followed them throughout the day, they hid for cover for a few hours, but the parting clouds only lasted for so long.

“You did want me here, didn’t you?” Sorrow replaced Kaveh’s jubilant demeanor. “To talk about…”

“The project’s conclusion, yes,” Alhaitham interjected.

That’s…odd. He thought he understood the situation.

Then, the tussle of leaves and quiet movements surrounding them became all too obvious. The audible sigh ran the disappointment through his body. He thought they finally had the space to get somewhere.

“I think you’ll find it’s only applicable to discuss it here,” Alhaitham reminded.

“Fine.” Kaveh relaxed his posture and put on his best researcher mindset. “Let’s start with your report on the technical aspect of the runes. Not as straightforward as you would’ve hoped?”

Alhaitham nodded. Kaveh understood it both to confirm this scenario as true as the marketed paper, and to affirm his direction of discussion.

“In fact, they were about just as straightforward as I expected. I think they were severely overlooked in the context of their setting,” Alhaitham said. “Not that it can be helped with the lack of competence from the rest of the people collecting data. Doing make-up work or others is not efficient.”

Somehow, Alhaitham argued his case so close to the truth. Perhaps only the best lies were wrapped in truth.

“You’re seriously blaming others? Alhaitham, the very aspect of a project is to work together. How could you discredit them?”

“Working together requires those of level knowledge and those who could understand the basic concepts required of the project,” he said.

“Ugh, forget it,” Kaveh placed his palm on his forehead. He couldn’t bear this line of conversation any longer just like he couldn’t back then.

The weight in his bag became more noticeable with each passing minute.

“What about the large manuscript over the desert script? I still think it’s a viable source to include for background information. Even if you didn’t end up using it much because you practically have the whole thing memorized, the reader doesn’t and still needs to understand its concepts before we discuss the runes.”

“Fine. Include it if you want, but I will not write that portion,” he said. “I think my resources are better allocated towards the body of the work.” Alhaitham looked him up and down as if wanting Kaveh to pull more weight in this made-up scenario. “What about your half? Surely you didn’t come here empty handed.”

He gave that teasing glare of his, almost expecting to put Kaveh in a tough spot. Their charades seemed amusing, sure, but Alhaitham clearly attempted to test just how long Kaveh could keep this up.

Little did that man know, Kaveh carried this heavy burden around all day. Relief washed over him at the prospect of it coming in handy. That morning, Alhaitham made him feel senseless for wasting space in his bag, but now he got to rub that wasted space in his face.

“Here.”

Kaveh pulled out a stack of papers crumpled and frantically taped together. The edges lost their color and began to turn yellow. Its constitution became brittle from creases and a few water stains. Especially around the various clips that held it together.

“I brought it with me. You should look it over.” He offered the papers with the title facing Alhaitham clear as day. Clearly, he didn’t see Kaveh pack this one.

Upon the sight of their thesis, several Eremites revealed themselves and surrounded the two, but neither of them paid any attention to them.

Alhaitham took their thesis with gentle hands. His eyes were…hurt…vulnerable. “Is this how you felt?” He spoke in a low, mellow tone, transporting Kaveh back to a world where only they resided.

A hint of deeply buried anger rose to his senses, reminding Kaveh what a heartache the aftermath was. A gaping hole of seven years remained in their understanding of each other. Alhaitham had no idea how Kaveh recovered, and now, Kaveh wasn’t sure if he recovered. This felt like an opportunity. “What did you expect?” he said sharply, but retreated his tone, “I felt like I was betrayed by my best friend.”

“Hey! Are you even listening to us?” one of the Eremites yelled, pointing his weapon.

A concentration of bitterness rose in Alhaitham as if he prepared for a worded defense to his actions back then.

“Don’t bother,” Kaveh said, holding up a hand to silence him. “I know it wasn’t like that. That’s just how I felt at the time, okay? You can see the result clear as day.” He gestured towards the paper.

Their eyes met once more in the midst of their feathered argument.

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” Alhaitham said.

Another lousy statement brings another eye roll. “Get off your high horse and speak to me about it properly,” he said in a playful manner that surprised even himself.

Used to their banter, it slipped out. The tone utilized to understand their words held no true and harmful substance. That became an unspoken vow—a simulation of debate without any stakes. However, this held a lot of stakes and a lot of very true and very harmful substance. Years of pining dulled down by bickering and fluff was not the result of this outcome, nor had all been forgiven and forgotten. So where did this lighthearted tone come from?

Intolerant footsteps of Eremites darting toward the two made for quite mindset breaker. Before they reached them, a flash of purple lightning filled the darkness of the overcast.

The two stepped aside. Alhaitham clutched the papers in hand as if protecting them from the elements.

“Let me…put this away,” Kaveh said.

Alhaitham relinquished their thesis, and Kaveh put it safely in the abyss from which it came from. How annoying they felt the need to be so careful around a crumbled stack of papers.

Cyno, on the other hand, made quick work of the Eremites. He outmatched them in skill and stamina, throwing their weapons and knocking them to their feet. Other than his flashy entrance, Cyno never used his vision. In seconds, he conveyed not even the full force of the General Mahamatra, yet the leader, on one knee, panted and admitted defeat. Considering Kaveh always saw him outside of his work, it slipped his mind just how strong he was.

Cyno cast aside his weapon and acknowledge Kaveh and Alhaitham with a nod, never breaking attention away from the stray group of Eremites. “Everything alright?” he asked the two.

“Physically, yes,” Kaveh grumbled, trying not to remind himself of their exchange.

Several Matra ran towards their location. Clearly Cyno had the head start. They surrounded the Eremites, taking some of them into custody. “This group has caused far too much trouble beyond your situation,” he announced to everyone. “That being said…” He turned his attention to the leader. “What were you doing tailing these two?”

The leader, a larger built guy out of the group, paused, then spoke in a low, gruff voice. “We just take any job we can. Our most recent being this one. To find secrets behind that paper of theirs…”

“Is that so?” Cyno stepped directly in front of the man. “Why don’t you tell me who hired you? Your sentence would be far less longer than the one you’re up for now.” The man turned his head in refusal. Cyno called upon the divine spirit. A purple jackal head and ribbons of purple electro energy surrounded him. Giant claws pointed at the Eremite leader.

The leader’s eyes widened. “Fine! Just back off, will you?” he croaked. Cyno powered down. “Didn’t recognize the guy, but he was from the desert. He wasn’t affiliated with any Eremite group I’m familiar with and had expensive apparel.” He shook his head. “If that’s not sufficient for you, we got most of our information from the black market—Lord Sangemah Bay’s associates.”

The disheveled groan that emerged from Kaveh’s core caught the attention of the Eremite leader, but Cyno quickly stepped in front of him to block his view. “That’s enough,” Cyno said and signaled to the rest of the Matra to take him away.

Relieved of the situation, Cyno turned to his friends. “Well, you heard him,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders. He handed them a paper of scribbled accounts and stapled documents from the Wikala Funduq of Dori’s movements in Port Ormos over the past week. “Still not entirely sure about the origins of the rumor, but it’s certain Dori is the one spreading it.”

Just as Kaveh came to terms with Dori’s role in his life, there she went to mess with him once more. A cruel joke and terrible luck, if you ask him.

Then, a terrible thought popped into his head. Overbearing confidence that exuded from his chest felt out of place for a time like this. Where did it come from anyway?

“Then I’ll talk to her,” he said.

That certainly got reactions from the other two. It wasn’t as if he kept his history with Dori a secret. With his friends at least, they knew ups and downs from his tangles with her, and Alhaitham knew the embarrassing amount Mora he owed her. In an ideal world, he kept it all to himself, but with a few drinks and trusted friends, and whatever he and Alhaitham were at the time, he became an open book.

With a simple glance, Alhaitham eased Cyno’s worries. Somehow it angered Kaveh to know that’s all it took—whatever reassurance Alhaitham gave because Cyno knew he always trailed Kaveh’s steps. Could he not manage it on his own? …But did he really want to?

“If you two go, then you have to promise to tell me about it at Lambad’s tomorrow night,” Cyno said.

“Deal.”

Cyno hummed in content. “I’ll see you then.”

Not too long after, Cyno and the rest of the Matra left with the Eremite group and Kaveh and Alhaitham made their way back to the center of Port Ormos. The streetlamps replaced the absent sun, and the wind quelled the ocean waves.

Alhaitham led Kaveh to Shapur Hotel where they planned to stay before departing in the morning.

The rain continued a little while after they settled. Alhaitham sat against the headboard reading a book he packed and Kaveh reluctantly sat at the desk with an open sketchbook. He brought a travel size kit of drafting and measuring tools, some sketching tools, and even a stray bag of chalk he accidentally grabbed. He gulped down the thought that Alhaitham was right about his disorganized packing habits.

Their situation was not too dissimilar to the set up in their study—Kaveh sitting by the window with his back towards Alhaitham, but Kaveh couldn’t shake the feeling of Alhaitham’s watchful eyes this time. Especially when Alhaitham kept his mouth shut. No criticisms for recessing back to the idea of this project, no fracas over sleep, not even a comment about his lack of concentration.

The day put enough of a toll on them, maybe he lent mercy for just tonight…or maybe he agonized over the very real conversation ahead of them as Kaveh did.

Mehrak appeared and floated steadily by Kaveh’s side, displaying some previous drafts of his for inspiration. This was sufficient enough to distract him.

Every now and then, when it switched projections, Mehrak’s light flashed. Not enough to be an issue, but something Kaveh noted down to fix later.

An hour or so passed until Kaveh heard the sheets shuffling.

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham said with a groggy voice. Suddenly, his unspoken feelings about their research project came back to mind, freezing Kaveh in place. “I’m going to bed.” An innocent declaration for such provocative thoughts. “Don’t keep the light on for so long. I’d like to sleep well tonight.”

The click of the beside light fizzling out echoed in his mind. He didn’t realize how long he held his breath.

“I’ll be done in a minute. I know you need your beauty sleep,” he said.

In a few minutes, Kaveh did pack up for the night. With swift and quiet movement, he gathered his things together and turned off the table lamp. Soon, he settled into his own bed and stared at the empty ceiling until he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

The boat ride out of Port Ormos felt much longer than to it.

Earlier, Alhaitham emptied another bag of Mora for the captain who graciously indulged them in this excursion, sailing through the waters around the city. A far cry from the usual route to and from Port Ormos he made a living on. The Palace of Alcazarzaray took more than enough of Kaveh’s Mora, it was nice Alhaitham dug into his own pockets for a change. Despite petty thoughts and the extra distance here, the ride felt long for other more pressing reasons…

All they managed that morning was small talk. Small talk. The kind of talk Alhaitham never troubled himself with. Time he could spend on more useful things, he deemed it, yet after the delicacy of yesterday evening, their conversations today did in fact amount to small talk. At least, Kaveh assumed that to be the cause because between this and his hesitancy at the market that first day, Alhaitham’s out of the ordinary behavior began to add up. With that connection, Kaveh agonized the whole morning over the true reason small talk was all they could muster. The moisture hanging in the air teetered Kaveh to the edge as the grueling anticipation of a real conversation made him sweat.

The trek up the beaten path swelled with tension. A knot in his stomach tugged him down as he lagged behind Alhaitham. When they made it to the intended viewpoint, Kaveh braced himself.

Through the brush and cliff’s edge, the entrance to the Palace of Alcazarzaray revealed itself. The world registered before his very eyes at the hidden haven ahead. The cliffside reared the building with gray rock that brightened the palace colors. Morning light glimmered on the roof like sparkles from a fading firework. To the left, a waterfall made the type of soft white noise that some people used to fall asleep to; and moats isolated the structure like those fairytale castles from Mondstadt stories—dragon and all. All intentional on Kaveh’s part—he always loved playing with perspective, and as much as that view never ceased to make him proud, it also filled him with dread. A dread entirely new to this visit. The evil dragon that wasted no time licking fire at the back of his neck to keep him away. Twisted and contorted old wounds wound up in his mind, and he couldn't help but think of this scar too. Those very words uttered by Alhaitham in the tavern haunted him.

How has realizing your ideals gone for you?

It plagued his work even today with this haphazard liability of a new commission. He realized the unreliableness of that commission was never the problem, but his antagonistic mindset on a chance for creative freedom. It was so clear with the very result of that outcome in front of him. A beauty locked away for himself behind the consequences of his ideals. The damsel in distress at the quaking fear of the dragon circling the tower. He shuttered at the thought, but that was the least of his anxieties now.

He couldn't go on like this any longer. Even if Alhaitham didn't share his stress, Kaveh held it regardless.

In the small patch of flowers ahead of them, Kaveh stepped off the beaten path and distracted himself with the view. On the outskirts of the Palace of Alcazarzaray, their tension became a single thread of silk preventing the unraveling of a tapestry of patterned emotions.

Alhaitham stood beside him. “Feeling sentimental?”

Unspoken words tingled on the tip of his tongue. He was not in the mood for Alhaitham’s jest. He sucked in air through his teeth, shaking an uncomfortable feeling away. “I’ve already raked myself over the coals for this. Sentiment is hardly the word to describe it,” he said haphazardly.

Alhaitham sighed with his woes. “Then you’re biding your time for something else?”

“Mhm.”

“The thesis.”

“Yeah.”

Avoidance finally led here, to this moment. It was finally time to address the thorn in their side. Despite his initial uncollected thoughts, that’s definitely how Kaveh felt about it now. To dance around this topic these past two days made the weight of it all so clear. To neglect was not to forgive. Time once filed his emotions away. Now those emotions engulfed him.

“Now that we don’t have an audience, I’ll speak my mind,” Alhaitham said in a voice much more sincere. He gazed at the palace before them. “You are brilliant and always have been.”

Somber eyes faded and rested on Alhaitham.

Alhaitham turned his body, aiming his words directly for Kaveh. “I enjoyed our work together because you were a cut above the rest. You wore your intelligence on your sleeve, but I realized that as a result, you were plagued by your own mindset.”

At the Akademiya, Kaveh never desired popularity. In fact, he craved to be part of the crowd and never climbed that empyrean stairway, but avoidance never did him any well. Since the other probable candidate to seek assistance from, Alhaitham, was too stern and unapproachable, peers often sought Kaveh’s help with their studies. Even with classes in other Darshans. The predicament left him at the House of Daena until after the sun set, yet Kaveh told himself it wasn’t a bother. The attention brought a semblance of feeling needed. Their company in the evening light held a warmth…or a simulation of warmth…that his own house lacked.

“Your own brilliance suffered for keeping everyone up to par,” Alhaitham continued.

Kaveh remembered tiring nights sitting in the empty halls of the Akademiya. The white hue of the moonlight through the windows wore his eyes out. Words in the textbook became fuzzy and their meaning blurred in his mind. He read them over a few times before he became cross-eyed and plopped his head on the page. Maybe thirty minutes or so passed until he woke himself up and returned to his own doorstep in a dreary state.

The next day, he barely kept awake after lecture. Alhaitham was the first to criticize him for his lack of sleep and Kaveh vehemently denied it. After that day, out of spite, he did make a habit of going home after his self-inflicted tutoring sessions, but his sleep hardly improved.

“That day, my words were not out of bitterness, nor intended to push you away, but to help you understand,” Alhaitham reasoned.

Understanding. Alhaitham understood Kaveh more than Kaveh understood himself. An unfortunate happenstance from years of knowing each other. Control of his image was lost on Alhaitham, but Kaveh accepted that. That acceptance came after he moved in. He was sure of it. Tolerance of Alhaitham’s presence again was more like a slow progression than a flip of a switch. It seeped into his mind like the slow spread of watercolor on the page. The color blended with his, painting layers of shades creating depth and maturity.

Too much time and energy was spent on this painting to deny Alhaitham’s presence in his life. The lethargic mornings of coffee brewing and quiet conversations, walking in on evening reading at the divan, the bustling market grocery shopping—he felt each gentle brush stroke of Alhaitham’s color on his own and understanding accompanied the full painting.

This time, Kaveh believed he got to understand himself before Alhaitham. Kaveh once appreciated Alhaitham’s friendship and now he appreciated his company. He forgave the gaping hole in his life absent of Alhaitham—with time, they made up for it. What he never forgave were the words that caused it all.

“A harsh truth is all I told you.”

The very foretelling of that truth stood in front of them. Beautiful and pristine but left Kaveh clawing for its mercy. “A truth…” he winced, “I wasn't ready for.” His pulse throbbed in his head and outweighed his senses. He clutched his arms against his stomach. “Did you even know what grief you unearthed that day?” he murmured. A hint of shame persisted from being affected by the grief in the first place.

Alhaitham waited for those unraveled emotions in geometrical motifs.

“You said my altruism comes from guilt,” he said, abashed, shaking his head in disbelief. “All I ever felt those days was guilt.”

Uncomfortable voicing his frustrations, a tense groan left his throat. Like wine down his dreary gullet, this wasn't the first time he spilled his troubles to Alhaitham. The same day Alhaitham offered him a place to stay, Kaveh opened up then too.

Today, the sensitivity came from the tiring patterns of how many times he did vent to Alhaitham. Sometimes, he forgot how much Alhaitham knew about him, and it caught him off guard when that man made connections about his life that Kaveh couldn't.

This time, however, would be different.

“I suspected its origin back then, but until recently, you hadn't told me the full story about your mother and father, so I wasn’t fully aware you lost them both,” he consoled.

Kaveh reiterated those words in his head. Lost them both…Alhaitham knew his mother was alive and well in Fontaine. He was even the one who handed Kaveh her most recent letter, so of course Alhaitham didn’t mean that literally.

He racked his brain for any other answer…In the sense of Kaveh’s guilt, had he implied Kaveh felt guilty for her too? He never saw it like that, but now this new understanding began to overtake his very soul.

Guilt lingered for encouraging his father to take part in the Interdarshan Championship, and furthermore, cause his death. The sound of his father’s lively voice echoed in his ears. A smile that cheered him up on any rainy day burned his eyes. The final moment before he left for the championship played over in his head. Regretful memories of that kind laugh with a promise to bring him something nice when he returned left a guilty pang that poked needles at his heart. To him, that was as familiar as emotions got. Even after the events of the last Interdarshan Championship, the guilt still lingered. A mindset like that was hard to change.

For that guilt to spread to his mother, he unraveled more of that carefully woven tapestry.

When his father died, Kaveh sidestepped his own emotions and helped his mother through her grief. Without his father, his mother became a completely different person. She said living with someone with such a kind heart as her husband’s fulfilled her. Maybe she never meant to imply Kaveh did not have that kind heart, but Kaveh always took it that way. How would someone responsible for his father’s death be anywhere near kind?

Now, he realized he felt guilty for her grief too.

He felt guilty for the absence of warmth in their home. The warmth his father brought to the table in those colorful mornings, filling the room with the nutty aroma of coffee. Kaveh still remembered the smell of those specific beans he used but could never find the same ones. He remembered his father’s soft eyes while quietly reading to a young Kaveh at night. Kaveh was always far too interested in the contents of the book to actually fall asleep, so sometimes he closed his eyes, pretending to doze off so as to put his father to bed as well. Despite his best efforts, Kaveh always had a sneaking suspicion his father knew about his antics. On those nights, he kept reading until his mother, Faranak, came to retrieve her husband.

Kaveh missed the vibrancy of their market outings. Faranak sometimes went to replenish her supplies for work, and his father smiled at Kaveh when he too browsed the selection of pencils and sketchbooks. He always told Faranak that Kaveh took after her more, and she always denied it saying Kaveh shared his bright smile. Therein lay the intimate feeling of family that Kaveh felt guilty for ripping away.

A month or two after his death, when his mother tried to pick up a pencil but stared at an empty page, Kaveh felt guilty for that too.

Kaveh remembered the day she announced her job offer in Fontaine as clear as the morning dew. A small curve of the lips, a hopeful giggle, and the color returning to her cheeks all indicated a happiness he hadn’t seen on her in a long time. The tang of guilt replaced the blood pumping through his heart once he realized her leaving wasn’t a decision he had say in.

At her wedding, he was happy for her when she found a new husband, but the guilt still ate at him inside. Guilt that she had to find a new husband. After that trip to Fontaine, he was alone in the shell of his former home with belongings left over from not only his father, but his mother as well.

It became all the more clear that he did in fact lose his mother, and he carried that guilt inside too.

How had Alhaitham seen that before him?

Realization struck at how upset that made him and how considerably his body exhibited it. He choked on his words, throat agape and dry. The sting in his eyes made them water. “That…” he breathed, “is another harsh truth told before I’ve even come to understand it.”

Concern swept across Alhaitham’s face, and he reached out for him. At least this time, he had the heart to attempt to soothe, but Kaveh still didn’t have the forbearance. He shuttered away at Alhaitham’s touch.

“Kaveh—”

“I feel guilty for anyone who has to hurt like I do. I tuck myself away to help others.” The words soothed his tongue as if his body made room for them to come out one day. The quaint life from his childhood ceased the moment Kaveh interfered. All these years he spent away from his family were punishment for his actions. Driven by guilt, he found comfort in altruism. It gave him the chance to help others not make the same mistakes, and maybe, just maybe, he could be liberated from his.

That's when a heavy reality from his subconscious dawned on him.

“People deserve to make amends, but I…”

The thought seized his nerves and left room for only the movement of his mouth for one realization he lived by.

“I don’t.”

Suddenly, Kaveh’s flawless sculpture suffered utter destruction as the weak point in his core shattered. A bare pedestal remained in the wake of broken marble, and his exposed pain whisked into the air with the dust.

Tears filled his eyes and made the world around him blurry and obsolete, but he barely made out Alhaitham’s panicked expression. With the snap of that thin thread, Alhaitham finally witnessed Kaveh break.

At the Akademiya, Kaveh didn’t understand. The seven years of their scuffles on papers and bulletin boards, Kaveh didn’t have close friends to spill his sorrows to. This was a vulnerability Kaveh never allowed himself to reach. Now, only Alhaitham coaxed it out of him. Only Alhaitham had that ability, and it scared him.

Kaveh lost control of his brush, letting the water spread too much on the page. Suddenly he had the urge to make quick work of this painting just as he did with their thesis.

He bit his tongue as tears ran down his cheeks. He held his ground and tried not to bawl his eyes out.

“We should go home,” Alhaitham offered, and Kaveh relaxed a little. “You are in no state to keep your footing. You are relapsing at the fundamentally unstable foundation of your philosophy.”

Kaveh jolted his head towards those words.

Alhaitham gave him an out—a reason to cease this causational dispute, but the wind picked up and carried Kaveh’s glare directly to the other. To think they were beyond noxious words and jabs at his philosophy became ludicrous now.

“If you are here again to criticize my perspectives because you find them disdainful, then I don’t want to hear it anymore,” Kaveh snapped. He spoke through the cracks in his voice holding back violent sobs. After all his vulnerability, Alhaitham just had to say that. “No matter what you say, I still don’t find your beliefs any more appealing than you find mine.”

“I have no need to be a prophet of my own philosophy,” Alhaitham hissed, taken aback by the course of the conversation. Kaveh thought this wound never healed, but Alhaitham must’ve seen him picking at the scab. “I assumed someone as bright as you would see these burdens of yours for what they are. After all this time, you still defend your self-sacrificing nature even when you know it hurts you.”

Yet again, Kaveh felt like the vanguard of their frustrations. He felt as if all this weighed on him giving up on his ideals for the sake of resolution.

As if…

Kaveh was the reason they split.

No. How could such personable nature be the cause? Alhaitham was just as responsible if not more, and Kaveh needed him to see that

“And why do you get to come out unscathed?” Kaveh glowered. Alhaitham recoiled with a crease of his brow. “You are not without fault in your philosophy either. You are the most important person in your life. You always focus on yourself and do everything to your behest.” He remembered how people approached him in the Akademiya asking him if he could make Alhaitham lighten up a little. Maybe his impromptu tutoring would’ve gone quicker if that were the case. “People are afraid to be in the presence of a genius. They would like you far more if you were a little more welcoming.”

“I don’t care what those people think,” he argued. “If they had any ounce of intelligence, they would spend more time elevating themselves than focusing on me.”

“There you go again with your societal separation of the talented and people’s differing mental capacities.” He shook his head and scoffed. “How can you be so cruel? To deem people as uncapable and unintelligent is not your responsibility.”

“It’s not yours either, but rather their own,” Alhaitham said.

Kaveh groaned in frustration. He’d fallen into the pitfalls of this mindless argument before, and he was not about to tread the same spiraling path. His thoughts erupted from anger. An anger originating from Alhaitham’s logic.

If everyone was the judge of their own ability, then Kaveh judged himself unworthy of ridding himself of his guilt. Whatever path Alhaitham saw for him without his altruism was not possible.

“Who even taught you to be such an egotistical and conceited individual?” He paused to inhale. “I’m sure they would be proud to see how unpleasantly lonely your life will become. These demeaning behaviors are the path your philosophy leads you towards. If you want to focus on yourself, then yourself is all you get.”

Any semblance of fight Alhaitham had in him receded because Kaveh just implied he would leave him again, tearing the painting of watercolors. Somehow, everything came in full circle.

“Kaveh…” Alhaitham’s voice sounded hurt and in disarray.

“We don’t fit, Alhaitham,” he said between broken sobs. “With your selfishness and my selflessness, I can’t even imagine how we continue on like this. Butting heads once is enough but this cuts deeper than last time. You cut deeper than last time.”

A worry blipped in his mind wondering if it was even right to accuse him at all, but Alhaitham was the one who knocked down his defenses. Of course this was his fault. If Alhaitham hadn’t shown him his guilt towards his mother, maybe they could’ve pretended everything was normal again.

“Kaveh.”

Rapid breaths hurt his lungs, and his tear-stained face grew exhausted. He spoke slowly and with an agony that broke his voice. “I tore apart my family, Alhaitham. You’ll never understand what that’s like.”

“Kaveh, stop!”

The mess of his words ceased at Alhaitham’s plead, and he froze. Kaveh never heard him yell before. Only then did he realize the damage he did.

“I’ve offered you an olive branch time and time again, yet you’ve reluctantly accepted my goodwill once. When you hurt yourself, you inversely hurt the people around you.” That look of resentfulness and misery…it shook Kaveh’s soul. “It seems I won’t ever understand how you feel. My grandmother was the last of my family until you came along, but it looks like you’ve torn this one apart too,” he said coldly.

Kaveh’s heart stopped.

Family?

No, no no no…

What have I done?

This time, Kaveh tried to reach out to him for any hope he would let him fix this, but Alhaitham stayed put. He turned his head away and ignored him. Cold, grueling eyes looked at the Palace of Alcazarzaray.

“I shouldn’t have told you about the paper,” he said. “You should go home while I deal with Dori.”

Suddenly, Kaveh wished he took up that first offer to go home.

Alhaitham turned around to head towards the palace. Kaveh stammered his words, “Alhaitham…I didn’t mean to—”

But he did. That pent-up anger had every intention to ignore his guilt and hurt someone in the way he hurt.

Alhaitham looked over his shoulder with an anger Kaveh had never seen.

“Go.”

His breath hitched with a lump in his throat. He swallowed, trying to push down more tears. Maybe there was a chance he could’ve said something to fix this or some gesture to make to prevent him from leaving, but Kaveh was terrified. Terrified at the fact his world came crumbling down yet again.

Kaveh stepped back and stared at Alhaitham who no longer looked him in the eye. There was no going back from this, was there?

At that thought, Kaveh turned around and walked away, and once out of eyesight, he ran. He ran until he collapsed from hyperventilating and tucked himself behind a tree. It shielded him from the heat of the sun and cooled his boiling blood. He raked his spine against the bark and sat down, burying his face in his knees. Finally, he let it all out.

Mehrak appeared and tried to comfort him, but the gentle nudges soon ceased, and it rested beside him silently in the grass.

Alhaitham had a way to bring out every vulnerable emotion of his—an unfortunate happenstance from years of knowing each other. A fear of being seen was a learnt trait of Kaveh’s. He understood if someone saw him as the murderer he was, of both his father and his family. If someone saw him as the drunken failure of an architect for the debt he accumulated from his most egregious project, he understood that too. But for Alhaitham to see him as none of those things terrified him.

A thesis, a tapestry, and a painting all shredded by the remnants of his sculpture, he now understood his mother’s long recovery to draw again. Art is the conviction of the soul, and right now, his felt lost without the person who revered it the most.

Chapter Text

The things Kaveh did to himself.

First, he ruined any relations with Alhaitham in a fit of madness from fear of vulnerability and the grueling realization that his own guilt extended to his entire family, Alhaitham once included. Second, keenly aware of all the damage he caused to their now nonexistent relationship, repeating the events of their fight stemming from the thesis all that time ago where they went their separate ways for seven years, Kaveh forced a dangerous stop at home.

In attempt to soothe his guilty conscience, he told himself this was no more than a quick drop by to leave his overnight supplies from the trip to Port Ormos. That pessimistic voice fighting his every move would rather win over his body, start packing all his belongings, and hop on the next boat from Port Ormos to Ritou if it weren't for the minuscule bit of self-control he had left.

If not to escape from Sumeru with his tail between his legs, Port Ormos posed a refuge for his aching soul. If he went back again, Alhaitham reluctantly tagged along in memory, enjoying the mundane and the routine of their antics. For a day forced into their hands, they made the most of it in spite of the unfinished thesis following their every move with questions and threats.

A fondness crept in Kaveh’s chest, flooding his cheeks, and irritating his eyes. He couldn't start this again.

A deep breath swept away the waters that threatened to return and speak the truth. A truth Alhaitham so fiercely reminded him of.

Kaveh wasn't forced to go.

Alhaitham didn't have to inform him of the thesis, and Kaveh didn't have to push for his own presence, but the fledgling of appreciation from Alhaitham said everything he needed to know. Both went for each other’s sake and to address the pain in their past.

Kaveh just didn't know it entailed a dig at his own misunderstanding. He was caught off guard, but all their wasted efforts towards making amends became Kaveh’s fault again. He had a nasty habit of pulling apart his family.

The glare of the afternoon sun burned the memories of this morning in his head. Flames in his eyes danced at the sight of the pleading in Alhaitham’s voice as he commanded him to leave. Would Alhaitham do the same once Kaveh opened that door? A thought from his guilty conscience again, but a convincing one at that.

A shivering hand hovered over the doorknob despite the sun staring at him with rays of fire and the wind patient for his next move.

As he twisted the knob, to his surprise and relief, lamps were off, books untouched, and the silence welcomed him. No one was home, yet the ache in his stomach still anchored his very soul down to his despair. Knowing the home was empty, the anxious thought of when Alhaitham would return pestered his movements and made him jittery and unstable as he slipped into his room.

What words would greet Kaveh when they ran into each other?

He couldn't let himself go down that rabbit hole.

After reorganizing his bag to rid the weight of spare clothes and a quick trip to the bathroom to wipe any tear and snot stains, he rushed out the door again and strolled around the city for some time.

How hilarious that he even pulled out his sketchbook as if he could turn in anything tomorrow in this sorry state.

On his walk, between quiet sitting and frustrated sketching, Kaveh debated going to Lambad’s, recalling what Cyno asked of them when they returned. If Alhaitham showed, the millions of apologies and frustrations left to voice would come crashing down at such an inconvenient time and place. If Alhaitham didn’t show, Kaveh would be left explaining his absence and the reason he came back empty-handed after being so determined to address the situation with Dori. He really didn’t want to do any of those things. Just his luck that he ended up in such a precarious position. Although his emotions wanted to pin the blame on Alhaitham for igniting this flame, Kaveh finally had to acknowledge this was on him.

Despite this pitiful back and forth, only reason that kept his spirits in favor of Lambad’s were the drinks.

So, Kaveh trudged along the evening streets and entered the tavern. On the second floor, Cyno and Tighnari sat at their usual table. Kaveh gave them a weak wave when he made it up the stairs.

“Hey, Kaveh! How did things go?” Tighnari asked with his head tilted in a friendly greeting. His big ears followed suit, flowing with his bob and alert like his smile. Apparently Cyno told him about the incident with their project but that didn’t bother Kaveh at all. It couldn’t. Not such an insignificant issue compared to the events of today.

What did bother him was Cyno looking back at the stairwell expecting someone else to come up behind him. The searching sent shivers down Kaveh’s spine. Cyno was perceptive when he needed to be, and Kaveh hoped this wasn’t a time when he needed to be.

“Where’s Alhaitham?”

Damnit.

“He…” Kaveh started but immediately replaced confidence with guilt, “wasn’t feeling well.”

A hush fell over the table. The other two looked at each other with concern, knowing what can of worms they were about to open.

“How bad was the fight?” Tighnari finally asked.

Kaveh couldn't get anything past them.

As he sat down, he threw his head into his hands with the dramatics worthy of a performance at Zubayr Theater. “It was my fault,” he agonized. “I know I might exaggerate my exchanges with Alhaitham, but this time it was really bad.” His arms shook under the weight of his anguish. He tried to emphasize that weight with words, but anything he thought of undermined it. “I’m just repeating the same mistakes I made all those years ago in the Akademiya. I shouldn’t have been so insistent on knowing about the thesis, but it’s far too late now.”

Now, he dwelled on their reaction. He deserved to be reprimanded and disgusted by his actions, but the table sat quiet while he hid himself in his hands.

“How I see things,” Tighnari started, “is you were always going to run into this problem. Leaving this conflict unchecked for so long was bound to blow up in your face.”

An understatement to say the least, but he told the truth. Their evasion left them with the same anger as before. No meeting each other in the middle. Except, maybe Alhaitham did meet him in the middle…and Kaveh still wasn’t ready for it. Just a simple acknowledgement of his mother tore him apart, and he pulled away. Afraid of his vulnerability, he strayed from recognizing Alhaitham as his family as he recognized Kaveh as his.

This was all his fault for being too broken to see things as they were.

“I mean he hasn’t kicked you out of the house just yet, so I don’t think it’s entirely detrimental,” Cyno said and coughed up a laugh to cheer him up.

It didn’t work.

“Just give him some space and then you can talk,” Cyno said in recovery.

“You don’t understand the things I said to him,” Kaveh groaned and melted in his seat. If no one else, his spine would certainly reprimand him later. “He might as well kick me out for it!”

What family did he have left? His mother? Who left to be happier in Fontaine? Tighnari and Cyno? He would just be a burden to them. Alhaitham tolerated him on every possible level and now he broke that too.

“Alhaitham didn’t even show up today…he probably doesn’t want to see me,” Kaveh murmured.

“Pick yourself up, Kaveh. Just give it some time. You two always bounce back. Even years apart,” Tighnari reassured.

Kaveh tried to adopt that mindset. He really did, but with the fight so fresh in his mind, he couldn’t imagine how to mend things from rock bottom.

“I take it you didn’t speak to Dori,” Cyno said, trying to change the topic.

“No, but Alhaitham did,” Kaveh said in a remorseful manner. “I don’t know what came of that, sorry Cyno.” Guilt curled in his stomach.

“Don’t worry about it.” Cyno adopted a cheerful attitude again. “You’re with us tonight! Take a break from your worries.”

In lieu of Cyno’s suggestion, his sorrows overwhelmed him so much that he requested his go-to wine to mull it over. The level headedness that kept his anxieties afloat diluted with each sip. Cyno and Tighnari talked about Collei and her studies, about themselves, and about work, all to take Kaveh’s mind off Alhaitham. It worked in one way or another…probably thanks to the aid of another few glasses.

When he was drunk enough, he accepted Cyno’s request to play Genius Invocation and horribly lost each round. A performance not even worthy of his usual intoxicated self. Then, Cyno roped Tighnari into the game as well, and Tighnari drank more after that last one too.

For the rest of the night, Kaveh managed to leave his situation with Alhaitham in the back burner. Yes, the drinks, but his friends never brought it up again. A part of him appreciated it because the guilt ate at him inside like the burn of alcohol he started to feel.

*

At the end of the night, Kaveh insisted on walking back himself. Tighnari and Cyno were adamant against it, but Mehrak woke up and beeped happily, assuring Kaveh was in good hands. After a while of convincing, they went their separate ways.

Kaveh kept mumbling to himself about the look on Alhaitham’s face when he saw him back home. Scenarios danced around his drunken head and tortured him with half-witted thoughts of Kaveh kicked out that very night. He laughed to himself teasing harsh insults spoken to Alhaitham’s face.

Soon, the city streets turned into dirt pathways. The quiet chatter of the night came from the ambiance of bugs and the rustling of leaves in the wind rather than people. Too busy in his own head and inebriated state, Kaveh followed Mehrak unquestioningly in the opposite direction of home.

Somewhere, a ways away from the city, Kaveh passed out on the ground and lay there until morning.

A far off, importunate thought tugged Kaveh awake. Today was the day the commissioner said they’d meet. He laughed, but it came out as weak and unsupported as he searched for air…or water for that matter.

After quite a bit of vomit, Kaveh drank in his surroundings and tried to piece together where he was. The protruding headache didn’t help his concentration. Then, Mehrak’s frenzied beeps tortured his ears. Frustration bubbled to the surface. Frustration with not having a clue where he was, frustration with his hangover, and frustration with a reminder of his situation with Alhaitham. Feeling too much frustration with his life, he turned it towards his toolbox and shouted, “Where am I!?”

Mehrak’s mechanisms contorted downward in a way that only a human read as sadness.

Kaveh supported his head on his hand and grumbled. “I barely remember anything from last night…” Thoughts of his fight with Alhaitham flashed in his memory and made his headache worse. “He must think I didn’t come home because of our fight. I don’t want him to think I bailed,” he said solemnly.

Unfamiliar beeps quieted down as the toolbox drifted off. While he didn’t know exactly where he was, he could tell Mehrak left in a direction away from the city.

“Mehrak? Where are you going?” Kaveh followed without thinking. How could Mehrak run off like this? He specifically programmed Mehrak to know where home was. Maybe a glitch in its systems? Mehrak did falter its projections the other day.

Through the thicket of the brush, Kaveh tried his best to avoid any conflict with the fungi beasts or tigers along the way. A path finally appeared and Kaveh had confidence he recognized this area.

He was hours away from the city.

The busy morning in Caravan Ribat startled his drowsiness. Tired eyes were far outmatched in the commotion of moving goods and people prepared to set out for the desert. All Kaveh could think about was how to get home. He could turn around and start walking right away, but he lacked any sustenance and stamina to do so. There was always the option of hitchhiking with someone intending to leave for the city. Even just staying here for the day would do him some good.

He loitered around for a while, collecting himself and his headache while waiting for a solution to come his way. Such a pitiful act.

Just as the sunlight hit the peak of the Wall of Samiel, the massive structure separating the desert from the forest, Kaveh heard a familiar voice call him. He turned around to see the Traveler and his companion, Paimon. She excitedly floated towards him, and the Traveler followed suit.

A solution, maybe not to his troubles, but to his stagnant progress towards getting home. At least they could cheer him up and help him work up the stamina to get back.

Kaveh ran his fingers through his hair, trying to fluff it out so it wouldn’t look matted. He straightened his spine and blinked a few times to wake himself up. “Hey, you two! It’s been a while,” he said warmly. His genuine excitement carried him through the conversation. “What are you two doing here without saying a word?”

“Paimon knows…We promise we were going to visit you all after!” she said. She pointed to her companion beside her. “The Traveler was summoned for a commission to investigate something in the desert. Katheryne insisted it should be him to accept it since he has the best success rate with this type of stuff. Paimon’s sure the Traveler can knock it out in no time!” she said proudly followed by her heroic pose with her hands on her hips, and her chest up to the sky with a great huff and a confident smile. It all died down as she got back to her point. “And that’s why we haven’t visited yet…”

Kaveh smiled. What a relief to see these familiar faces. “I’m only joking. You know you are welcome with us any time.” he said softly.

“It’s nice to see you, Kaveh,” the Traveler said. He finally got a word in after Paimon did all the talking. A pretty average routine for the two. Kaveh nodded and looked at the Traveler with delight.

Beside him, Mehrak quieted down on low energy. “Hm…” Kaveh placed a hand on his chin. “Something in the desert?”

“We were told strange elemental energy readings are coming from some of the ruins,” Paimon said. “They are affecting the monster activity in the surrounding areas and apparently machinery too.”

“Ah, I wonder if it has anything to do with Mehrak acting strange all of a sudden. It does use a machine core for power,” Kaveh said.

Paimon gasped. “Oh no! Is Mehrak okay?”

This topic felt like a breath of fresh air compared to his leaden thoughts.

“Mostly yes.” Kaveh brushed his hand over Mehrak’s frame. “However, some of its functions are slower and its projections are less clear and concise.”

And for some reason it brought him here instead of home.

“While these are normally just errors and mechanisms in need of a tune-up, Mehrak has also been in unexpected contact with…unusual desert relics.” The image of the two Djed Pillars popped into mind. Then, thoughts of who had them followed suit. He tried to bury them away. “I was afraid those might have something to do with it somehow, but so many odd things coming from the desert in such a short amount of time makes me curious.”

“Oh yeah. That does sound serious,” Paimon said. Mehrak shifted its mechanisms into a worried expression, copying the mood of those around it.

Uncomfortable disarray worried Kaveh over Mehrak’s state. There was use in going home, tidying up its bugs, and spending the rest of the week working on one thing or another, but the thought of running into Alhaitham immediately shut that down. Without a doubt, he wanted to make things right, but would his diction match his intent? Not with the fear that any semblance of a relationship they had left was on the line. At least this time he could think a little more clearly on the matter despite his headache that came in waves every now and then. Space away from Alhaitham was what he needed for the time being.

Gritting his teeth together in frustration, he made the most impulsive decision he could. “Are you heading out now?” he asked, trying to keep his voice void of any negative emotions.

“I assume you will be joining us?” the Traveler said, leaving Kaveh silently stunned that he caught on to his plan. He hoped he didn't come off as a desperate.

“Only if you would have me…I can help. For Mehrak,” he reasoned. That reason was of course a truth wrapped in a disgruntled lie.

No one moved except for Paimon when she whispered something in the Traveler’s ear. Suddenly, the heat of embarrassment caught up to him. The Traveler shook his head and kept calm.

“Okay, well Paimon guesses she doesn’t mind the extra company.” She crossed her arms. “The area isn’t too far from here.”

A huge sigh of relief bled into his quiet thanks to the Traveler who smiled back without qualms. He granted Kaveh a chance to cool down in the hot desert. Kaveh couldn't be more grateful.

“Why don’t you tell me about your recent travels? I’m sure there’s a lot to catch me up on,” he said wholeheartedly.

As Paimon started talking, they headed towards the opening of the Wall of Samiel and into the desert.

Discomfort settled in, not just from the pains of his dreary life, but from the stick of the desert. On this day, the sun disposed of its irritation in the air, creating a heavy mass that dragged against his body. The heat sweltered in blazing waves of wind feeling like fire scorching his back. Hot sand scratched his skin. He felt the gritting of tiny rocks inside of his cheeks. Sweat beaded at his brow and down his neck. At times like these, his loose clothing did him good.

Despite everything, these conditions were not unknown to him. Kaveh frequently traveled to the desert in his earlier days for research purposes, the thesis and other smaller things. As an adult, commissions became more frequent in Aaru Village, but it had been quite some time since he came out this far.

The Traveler and Paimon on the other hand, bent their back for expeditions in the desert. They expressed complete equilibrium with these conditions as if they were another tumbleweed blowing in the wind, inconspicuous to the challenges the land brought. After the two recounted their countless travels in Teyvat, their adaptations began to rub off on Kaveh—or at least they distracted him enough from the heat. The two went on the strangest journeys and craziest adventures but always got out unscathed and ready to tell the tale. For just a moment, Kaveh could set aside his worries with them.

Up on a dune’s peak, the three slowed their pace as they spotted their destination. The indicator being the unusual number of hostile creatures—fungi and constructs alike. “I can handle this, Kaveh,” the Traveler said. He clenched his fist at their line of sight with determination and readied his sword. Never a hint of fear in his eye, but more of an excited eagerness and thrill for the challenge.

A lighthearted grin hid Kaveh’s unease. “Let me at least be of some help,” he said, freeing Mehrak who beeped beside them with robotic happiness.

Paimon floated to Mehrak who looked at her with an impassive stare. She inspected it with decisive eyes then covered its nonexistent ears. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring Mehrak out in the area where machinery is acting strange?” she said. “Mehrak might go berserk if that happens. You never know!”

She was right. Kaveh didn’t know. He built Mehrak with his own hands. Seeing them up close, Kaveh almost forgot Mehrak would be grouped in with those creatures. Not to mention his abrupt reflex of using Mehrak for combat. While he handled a claymore well enough without his toolbox, being up to par to fight with these enemies was out of the question. He pressed his lips together in indecision.

Paimon waved her hands around and sprung back. “It’s not like you aren’t useful. It’s just not every situation requires the might of the Traveler and Kaveh.” She flexed her little arms with a show of confidence.

The Traveler’s calmer smile balanced her energy. “You should look around the area. See if there’s a source to their frenzy.” That did sound more like his style.

With a nod from Kaveh, the Traveler slid down the dune and ran towards the danger. Paimon waved goodbye and disappeared with him.

The Traveler brought the attention of the enemies to himself, surprising them with elemental attacks. Such a feat to master elemental energy the way he did.

Kaveh gave himself a good pat down of sand and brushed his fingers through his hair. He turned to Mehrak who…wasn’t there. His heart stopped. “Mehrak!?” he called. He turned every which way, but he couldn’t spot where the little toolbox had gone. Suddenly the heat caught up to him, causing him to boil over in frustration disguising his motherly worry. He would prefer fighting enemies to this—to losing his companion.

A frightened groan enwrapped him. Not Mehrak too…

That’s when he spotted it. Mehrak hurried along the sandy path past the Traveler’s fighting grounds. Kaveh called out to it again with its safety still in jeopardy. Running slightly alleviated the ache of his stomach, but his palpitations still hurt. Kaveh kept calling Mehrak, but the toolbox still set out for a destination unbeknownst to him. Kaveh ignored the battlefield entirely with his eyes set on the little machine.

Not too far away, he caught up to the rocky peaks of the desert where Mehrak beelined to. Around the corner of a large cliff, the toolbox froze.

“Mehrak, what are you doing!? You can’t run off like that,” he panted. He bent over and placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath inefficiently. When he stood up, that’s when he realized Mehrak’s destination. A large, exposed ruin that Kaveh didn’t recognize and something even more unbelievable…

The outline of a large stature, a green patterned coat, and gray hair met his gaze.

Alhaitham.

It was Alhaitham.

A sharp draw in of breath made him freeze, copying Mehrak’s stillness. He was hit by the shade’s chilly air. Alhaitham’s cold stare iced over their broken bridge, solidifying the cracked foundation and stressed the brittle suspensions. Kaveh’s jaw trembled like his teeth clacking together as he shivered. Any words he prepared beforehand left him like the puff of breath he saw escape his mouth.

Despite their distance, Kaveh could tell Alhaitham was just as surprised to see him as he was.

“Alhaitham!” said a voice behind him. A high shrill that Kaveh couldn’t have been happier to hear. The Traveler and Paimon ran past Kaveh and greeted the man in front of him.

Kaveh cleared his throat and used the opportunity to pretend he saw to Mehrak who floated in place, not acknowledging anyone’s presence. Although, he hardly had the concentration to do a thorough examination because he noticed Alhaitham stealing a few glances, making eye contact as Kaveh hesitated to join the group.

Mehrak was eventually pushed along with him. The Traveler and Paimon’s presence provided a third party that shielded Kaveh from any initial scornful words. That’s what he hoped for at least.

“What are you doing here?” Paimon asked.

Yeah, out of all the places in Teyvat, why here? In the middle of the desert, Kaveh thought. The tightness in his chest lurched at the fact that he practically found a specific grain of sand in the very desert he was in.

The guilt piled up. The thoughts he tried so hard to escape last night…the person he tried to escape this morning…could the universe get any crueler?

“Just a simple investigation,” Alhaitham said. Not an ounce of conflict in his voice. “I was pointed in this direction by a pair of affluent hands…To a desert ruin that appeared out of the sands several days ago.” He gestured behind him. The grand entrance reminded him of the Temple of Silence’s mysterious appearance before he sunk into his head about his worries again.

As Paimon explained away their presence in ecstatic words, the Traveler met Kaveh’s eyes with a knowing look. By Kaveh’s uncomfortable shifting and sudden silence, the situation must’ve not been as inconspicuous as he hoped.

“Oh! Paimon knows!” her voice suddenly broke through his thoughts. “Why don’t we go in together?” she said with a naivety Kaveh could hardly blame her for. Regardless, it still hurt in full force.

With Mehrak on the fritz and Alhaitham here, Kaveh could barely hold his composure. He could barely look up from the ground. His hand on Mehrak tensed as he pressed lines onto his palm from the metal.

“Very well.”

Kaveh shot his head up, but Alhaitham already turned around and made his way into the ruin.

The pit in his stomach sagged down his posture. Anxiety came back, but he dispelled it quickly. The Traveler and Paimon didn’t deserve to be subjected to this.

“Hey! Paimon didn’t mean right this very second!” She stomped in the air with frustration and then quickly floated towards him.

Before the Traveler entered, he looked at Kaveh.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” Kaveh said in a low, listless voice. He shook his head in disarray and grabbed Mehrak by the handle, deactivating its hovering. He walked in after the others with heavy breaths.

Inside the ruin, dimly lit torches and crumbling, barren walls surrounded them. Water seeped through a crack and eroded quite a bit of the rock. Any patterning on the floor hid beneath the dense and freshly moved sand. All paints and etches were faded and lost to time.

As for the very path they walked, it lacked any logic. The structure, carved into a mountain, had plenty more useful ways to organize the halls instead of winding tunnels and empty rooms leading to nowhere. Disorganization was uncharacteristic of desert ruins. In fact, most of them were meticulously mapped out to be in line with various ideas that King Deshret presented during his time. The architecture communicated a level of grand honor to the ideas of the Aaru, the Golden Slumber.

This ruin disgustingly strayed from that theme.

Paimon looked at Kaveh, finally lost in thought with something other than Alhaitham, and floated backwards as the group kept walking. “By the way, is Mehrak okay? Paimon saw you chasing it while the Traveler was dealing with those enemies, and she can’t help but notice its static state.” She pointed at the toolbox, still in Kaveh’s hand.

Kaveh stole a glance at Alhaitham who did not budge. Perhaps the absence of his stare was best.

“Once we figure out the source of this disturbance, I’ll run a few tests on it,” he said plainly. “Mehrak will be fine.” Yet, those were all but empty words. After all, he didn’t know.

“Okay…” Paimon floated near the Traveler and whispered away. A tinge of anxiety built up, feeling sorry for the awkwardness of their expedition. This was his fault, and he didn’t know how to resolve it right now…or if it could be resolved.

The quiet of the room was filled with the periodic dripping water and footsteps. The lack of conversation certainly drew more attention than the ambience. Then, a low rumble in the distance grew louder as if excusing their graceless silence.

As they continued, rubble and broken bits of rock increased. The walls became more stagnant, and the rumbling got louder.

This time, everyone became alert. “W-What’s going on?” Paimon said, searching for a cause.

Just as they were about to make another turn, a wall skid across the room and blocked the entrance. The group paused, registering movement through the kicked-up sand. In that wall’s absence from its original position, it exposed another path.

“Why did it move like that!? Desert ruins don’t normally do that!” She hid behind the Traveler.

“Now we know what that rumbling sound was,” the Traveler said.

“This is indeed a new discovery for ruin mechanics,” Alhaitham observed. His voice made Kaveh shake, but his mind wasn't so muddled that he couldn't understand this ruin they stumbled upon became troubling.

The mechanisms of these moving walls struck Kaveh’s curiosity and the cogs in his mind turned. Were they on a track buried beneath sand? Or an elemental system underneath the floor? Did they move in a pattern? King Deshret’s technology had incredible feats of engineering. He took back every undermining thought about the ruin from earlier.

Suddenly, Paimon reminded them, “A-Are we stuck here?”

“The only way is forward,” Alhaitham said, already walking to the destination. Deeper into the maze, the rumbling and moving walls shifted more frequently. Paimon held onto the Traveler while Alhaitham led the way. Kaveh moseyed behind, afraid to distract the group with his sulking.

He distracted himself with the traversing walls. After a few minutes of aimlessly allowing the structure to guild them, Kaveh paused. He blinked and blinked again at the ceiling in disbelief. “I found it! I see the pattern,” he said, feeling his first hint of joy since the fight.

“Yes! Paimon knew you could do it, Kaveh!”

Now, Kaveh pulled the group ahead through the next hall as he looked up at the shifting mechanisms untouched by piles of sand. There, he saw the whole pattern. His show of expertise allowed him to push away other more grueling thoughts. Through the shifting corridors, he was in his element.

A few more moving rooms later, he thought they might’ve been closer to exit. Then, as he walked towards the next newly opened space, just as he pulled through for everyone, something tugged him back to misery—Mehrak slipped out of his grip.

“Mehrak!?” It whisked away to another moving room.

How did it power on without him?

Then, Kaveh felt a forceful shove from behind him. The push brought him to the ground with a heavy thud. The pain in his arm seized his strength as he rolled off it and onto his back. The Traveler and Paimon weren’t there…they were stuck behind the newly shifted wall.

Kaveh was almost crushed.

If it weren’t for…Alhaitham. He laid on the ground beside him, clearly overcome by his own frantic strength too. Kaveh shuffled to him with a look of astonishment and worry, forgetting any pain from the fall.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know whether to give thanks, to yell for hurting himself, or to apologize.

Alhaitham grimaced at the rough floor. Gathering his strength, he lifted himself up and pulled Kaveh up as well. His hand lingered on Kaveh’s forearm but shriveled away as their eyes met. Alhaitham still looked at him with a concealed anger. A verbose storm of emotions. If it were up to Kaveh, he wouldn’t have seen him so freshly torn from the fight.

“Kaveh! Alhaitham! Are you two alright?” Paimon’s yell muffled through the walls.

The wall became a better thing to look at than Alhaitham. The uncomfortable pain in his chest grew as he ground his teeth. His heart wavered at the words he wanted to say. “Alhaitham,” he started, “that wall will open again soon. I’m sure you’ve already figured out the pattern.” Every nerve in his body told him to stop talking and hide in a corner. “Lead the Traveler and Paimon out of here,” he said with despondence.

Sand in his teeth echoed in his head.

“I can’t lose Mehrak too,” Kaveh implored.

All that time, he worked up the courage to look him in the eyes again. The pain became too much to bear.

Leaving Alhaitham behind, he took off in Mehrak’s direction just before the walls closed around it. He called the toolbox, but it didn’t stop hovering forward. Those uncomfortable sentences to Alhaitham plagued his mind as he kept up with Mehrak. He should have apologized. He should have said something, anything about how sorry he was, but as their eyes met, he was reminded of the built-up anger and criticisms of his so-called self-sacrificial philosophy. Would he really follow those same pitfalls again because of his fundamentals? “Mehrak!” he called one more time.

After chasing it for a while, Mehrak floated over a small room with an actual dead end. It gave him the opportunity to catch up to it, but not before Alhaitham appeared next to him. Heavy breaths took in Kaveh’s surprise. He must’ve gone another way to their location.

“You are impulsive,” Alhaitham scorned.

Every drunken insult Kaveh came up with last night came back to him, but he lacked the energy to give way to the temptation.

As they entered the room together—Kaveh noted he did not follow Alhaitham in but just happened to be behind him—he ignored the man with the crude excuse of inspecting Mehrak’s machinery. He had every chance to concertante since Alhaitham just stood there minding his own business, but because Alhaitham stood there, his focus escaped him. Anger and sorrow fought one another for dominance over his emotions. Every ounce of his being wanted to lash out at Alhaitham again for inciting such misery for him, but he knew that was exactly what got him into this situation.

After everything he feared Alhaitham to criticize him of for their first meeting after yesterday, impulsiveness was the last thing on his mind. Alhaitham understood him best after all, and impulsive words were what Kaveh shared yesterday. This time, he thought to calm himself instead.

A deep exhale removed some of his tension. He dropped Mehrak’s inspection and glanced at Alhaitham leaning against the wall with crossed arms and legs. Alhaitham tilted his head at his gaze. The strain he put on his brow and squinting eyes created a lump in Kaveh’s throat.

The anger from the argument lost the fight and escaped his body as one word ruminated in his mind.

Family.

He snapped his gaze to Mehrak, not wanting Alhaitham to see the grief in his eyes. Kaveh’s heart pounded louder in his chest as Alhaitham came closer.

A soft brush against his arm quelled his shaking. Fatigue set in.

“Listen,” he breathed, “I’m s—” was all Kaveh got out before intense rumbling caused the walls around them to crumble. The floor collapsed beneath them and sent them tumbling down a deep, dark chute.

Chapter Text

The descent came quick. Their bodies skidded along the rough, sandy walls of the ruins. With little time to react, Alhaitham reached for something—anything to slow their speed, but that abrasive texture burned his hand. After the chute, they plummeted down a story or two. At the last second, of which Kaveh hardly registered, Alhaitham threw himself under before they landed on solid ground.

The fall left him faint. Numbness coddled deep in his bones giving a feeling of euphoria. It betrayed him immediately, gripping at his skin like novelized scarabs eating his flesh from inside. Euphoria turned to tingling specs of sand sticking to his sweat. Shallow breaths made him disoriented. An onslaught of pain surged through his body like a migraine pulsating from his toes to the tips of his fingers. The shock flooded his senses leaving him unable to groan or hiss in pain. Just pure silence as the dust settled.

Once sensation of his surroundings slipped past the swelling pain, he realized Alhaitham laid under him. His muscles spasmed and he squirmed underneath. Kaveh rolled off him, feeling the grit scrape at his wounds. Pressure on the mush skin of his bruises sent jolts through his system. Without his weight on the other’s arm, Alhaitham pulled it close to his chest like an animal protecting its injured limb.

Obscure tears ran down Kaveh’s cheek as he clenched his jaw, holding in any harrowing wail. His eyes, wide open and aware, strived to collect himself. Once his head stopped spinning, he pushed his upper body off the ground with shaky effort. His arms trembled under his own weight. Finally, heavy breaths filled his lungs to keep himself alert.

Their surroundings became a second thought. It’s not like he could have payed attention to the dizzying background anyway. He turned to Alhaitham and felt the bruise on his bottom sending crackles through his spine…as if his back pain wasn’t troublesome already. He put pressure on his lower back as if stabilizing the bone itself.

Alhaitham, still captive on the ground, quietly moaned in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and tensed all his muscles. All but his right arm.

The sight frightened Kaveh.

At least some things were said with confidence—the height was not deadly and Alhaitham was still conscious, but despite his attempted mental reassurance, the reality was, Kaveh had never seen Alhaitham in such a state. If someone were to get hurt first, it would be the person who blindly ran for Mehrak, was nearly crushed by the sliding walls, and was too focused on his sketch pad to realize a flower bed fell from above. Not the person with an astute mental fortitude and the brawn to support it.

“Alhaitham,” Kaveh whispered. He wiped his cheek, replacing the tears with dirt. Shaky hands reached for Alhaitham’s forehead and shoulder. He brushed the hair from Alhaitham’s face, exposing the beads of sweat. “Let me help you up.”

Alhaitham opened his cloudy eyes. He took Alhaitham’s uninjured arm, waited for him to gather strength of his own, and helped him sit up. Sand caked his back, falling as he turned to face Kaveh. He looked worse for wear, but nowhere near the imminent death Kaveh’s mind once had him believe.

Alhaitham relaxed to the touch Kaveh kept on his shoulder. “Where are you hurting?” Kaveh asked.

He still held that stiff arm close to his chest.

In delicate motions, Kaveh ran his hands across the skin, attempting to find any fractures or dislocations. At the forearm, Alhaitham winced. “Right there,” he breathed.

Kaveh cursed himself for his foolishness. How much more pain would they both have to endure by being around each other?

He undid the clip on the blue sash around his waist and fastened it into a sling around Alhaitham’s arm. He took the ends of the cloth across his chest and pinned them on his collarbone. “I know this is hardly enough to do anything, but it has to hold over until we get out of here,” he said.

“It’s fine, Kaveh,” Alhaitham said.

It was not fine and Kaveh felt all the more guilty for it.

Alhaitham’s eyes drifted behind Kaveh, and his subsequent shock startled them both. Whatever was back there was a sight to behold. Kaveh followed his line of sight only to be mocked by the pretense of a simple life.

Two Djed Pillars laid lifeless on the floor. The same two Mehrak delivered.

Alhaitham scuffled with himself as he tried to stand. Kaveh, in much better shape, helped him the best he could. A pitiful effort he deemed it. Alhaitham silently grunted as he walked to the pillars. Kaveh followed, trying to conceal a limp. With every step, the scrapes and bruises stung, and his head wobbled with the motions.

“I gave those to Dori,” Alhaitham said in disbelief. “I traded them.” He slowly took a knee, guarded his arm from the movement, and scooped up the pillars. The strain on his clothes from scuffs and tears were apparent. Kaveh offered a hand up, but Alhaitham didn’t take it. Was he too fixated on the pillars…or did he genuinely refuse Kaveh’s help?

“One as a promise to stop spreading rumors regarding the paper, and the other for information about this ruin,” Alhaitham explained. “She would never give these back.”

The appraiser’s words echoed in Kaveh’s mind. A Djed Pillar would…eventually find its way back through unknown means.

He buried a harrowing thought and took to a more simplistic explanation. “Could we be in the ruins they came from?” he voiced.

But the notion didn’t sit right with him.

Beeps cut through his loud thoughts. Kaveh whipped his head around to a corridor out of the room. Mehrak floated patiently by the exit. Relief washed over him. As fast as his broken body could carry him, he rushed to Mehrak’s side.

The worried mother that he was, he checked Mehrak all over for scrapes and dents. The toolbox remained still and expressionless. Perhaps its processing unit got damaged in the fall or its components were not responding properly, but no matter. Kaveh could fix it. Just as soon as they got out of here.

When Kaveh let it go, it just floated there, facing him and Alhaitham who just joined them. Compared to Mehrak, they were filthy. While not entirely disastrous, they could be mistaken for having spent a week camping in the desert, yet it looked as if Mehrak got a new shine.

With everyone accounted for, in one piece, and passed the heat of the moment, the dust settled in Kaveh’s distressed mind. All except for the strained construction of reality he dreamt of where this never happened and Alhaitham came back from his expedition to Port Ormos unscathed, fight free, and left the issue of the paper to Cyno. Alhaitham would have had a far easier life if Kaveh hadn’t thrown a wrench at every turn. That guilt piled on him like the weight of a Sumpter Beast.

“Is something the matter?” Alhaitham asked.

“You left the Traveler and Paimon,” he said in a low, monotonous tone.

“Are you suggesting they are not capable of handling themselves?” he responded.

Kaveh narrowed his eyes. “Am I not capable of handling myself?”

“The day you realize I don’t have a serpent’s tongue is the day you’re finally capable,” he said.

“You didn’t have to be here!” Kaveh shouted. “…You got hurt because of me.”

Alhaitham, not giving those words another thought, walked ahead into the hall. Mehrak mindlessly joined him. For some reason, the toolbox took the lead.

Trying to forget any angry sentiments, Kaveh rubbed his temples. The unresolved tension still preceded them. Avoiding conflict while physically hurt and stuck in close quarters was the best course of action, but his temper wanted him to believe otherwise because Alhaitham’s silence fed at his festering fears.

“Did you even go home?” Kaveh finally spit out.

“You would know if you went back,” Alhaitham rebutted so simply. Kaveh’s dregs radiated from his bones into the chilly, underground air, but before his ire bested him, Alhaitham said, “We can talk when we leave this ruin. Just focus on the task at hand.”

It caught Kaveh so off guard—the low, sincere tone, the heavy breath that followed, and his tense broken arm, but most of all, the fact Alhaitham didn't even look his way while addressing it. He hadn't allowed Kaveh room for more bickering. There was not a single facial expression to riff off of or opportunity to interject. Starring at the sheer breadth of his back, Kaveh fell silent with all that growing turmoil diffused.

They relinquished control of the spur-of-the-moment expedition to Mehrak who, while acting out of place, appeared to have some control of its original function. It seemed to have a set destination, as if drawn to some place in this ruin. Either way, wherever Mehrak wanted to go was the only route provided.

The walls of their inevitable path were decorated in murals of priests and sages of old. Statues of them towered over the two. Near them, pottery sat on the floor only touched by dust and sand. In a more comfortable setting, Kaveh saw his curiosity flourish in a place like this, but the more he thought about Alhaitham’s words and his quick ways to quiet him, the more the pain from the fall’s abrasions intensified. The creeping feeling in his chest and in the back of his mind irked him. Guilt. He felt guilty about his insults, guilty of walking away, guilty of Alhaitham getting hurt. All he had to show for it was anger. Every time he attempted to talk, his words would be construed, and his mind would be full of sand in submission to the wind.

Mechanical whirling echoed in the room. Primal Constructs rose beneath the sand, pealing back mechanisms of invisibility. Kaveh ran forward, pushed Mehrak away, and summoned a blue weapon in hand. The weight of his claymore strained his shoulders. A firm grip on the handle scraped his calluses like sandpaper. Artist hands held mighty tools, but with an unavailable toolbox, a weapon didn’t fit his grooves.

Alhaitham held his ground with a sword of his own. The steady blue shine reflected his desperate glare and the pain he hid behind it. The sword shielded his restrained arm.

The constructs gave them little time to adjust to their setbacks as the left one fired a beam of white light between them. It separated the two. Kaveh and Alhaitham, a foe to their own. Kaveh charged forward and slid underneath the construct, striking it from below. Kaveh nearly lost the grip of his weapon as it made contact. He disturbed a bruise or two and winced in the aftermath. The construct turned around quicker than anticipated and shot another beam at Kaveh. He heaved the claymore and cut the air in front of him, deflecting the beam to the ceiling which crumbled from the impact. It revealed a steady spout of water.

A swoosh of a sword boomeranged around the room. Its Dendro afflicted state met the water and created a bloom core. Kaveh saw their fighting chance. He used his Dendro Vision to create more cores as he continued to hit the now damp Primal Construct. The cores burst, which felt like a cold compress on his wounds. The constructs felt the opposite effect. Kaveh’s met a swift end as it broke down and thud on the sandstone floor. The other, damaged by the explosions, drew its attention towards Kaveh. Alhaitham took the opportunity to attack it from behind, launching himself forward in a manner all too rough for his broken arm and took out the second Primal Construct.

Kaveh exhaled, with the enemies defeated. He anchored his claymore on the floor to give his hands a break. A painful expression appeared on Alhaitham’s face. He closed his eyes for just a moment, catching his breath and in pain from his arm. The cloth holding it became loose. Kaveh ran to him, leaving his claymore to dissipate into limbo, waiting to be summoned again.

He appeared by Alhaitham’s side, checking his arm and brushing off the sand on the sling. “You should be more careful,” Kaveh said. He adjusted the cloth to hold better and used his red hair clips to affix the part around his shoulder to stay still. A strand or two of golden hair came loose to rest on his own shoulder.

Alhaitham’s body suddenly tensed, and he gripped his sword until his knuckles turned white. In one powerful motion, he threw it at the wall, but it wasn’t the wall at all. A third Primal Construct, invisible from the start, was a straggler from the fight. The sword went through the machine and into the wall, breaking the stone itself. Green light from his vision rained down from the ceiling and destroyed the Primal Construct. Then, the sword dissipated leaving a large crack in the wall.

“You should pay more attention,” Alhaitham said with a strained voice.

Kaveh scrunched his nose, but he didn’t have the heart for a quip. “Is this okay?” Kaveh asked with his hands on Alhaitham’s shoulder and arm. He gave the sling a gentle tug to make sure it stayed in place. His hands strayed close to Alhaitham’s collarbone.

Alhaitham hummed in affirmation.

“Then we should head to the next room. Mehrak is waiting,” he said.

One hallway led to another, and Mehrak finally led them to a moving platform common to King Deshret’s ruins. As they steadied onto the platform, they descended to the lower depths of the ruin. Down meant the opposite of leaving this place, but they had no choice since the walls shifted again, blocking off the entrance.

Overwhelmed by the grandiose entrance, Kaveh felt as if he were about to stumble upon the very riches of the three God-Kings. Nothing like the small relics he once saw at that antique shop in Port Ormos.

If Mehrak was affected by the Djed after all, had this been the mysterious way the pillars made it back to their owner’s tomb?

As the platform slowed, the golden shine flooded through the bottom. The ray of light grew and touched every fiber of their being, bringing a peaceful warmth to their woes. From this light, the room revealed itself to their wandering eyes as the platform came to a stop. Mehrak eagerly floated towards the spectacle of the room—the large statue that overlooked the entire ruin. It was not one familiar in King Deshret’s ruins. While many depictions of early deities and sages were animals or animals of anthropomorphic features, this statue was not one of those previously documented in the Akademiya’s archives. A new animal—a larger than life and majestic bird with its placid eyes—looked down at the center of the room where two tables lay. The bird appeared to be 10 times their size and crafted with care. The stone was etched with more detail and less weathering than any desert statue he’d seen. Outspread wings and a giant headdress of feathers filled the back wall along with a tail that curled down and around the bird’s feet. With the whole statue made of regular sandstone, Kaveh became quite curious how the sculptors of the time anticipated the weight distribution of each piece and what technological advancements were able to help with this process. This sculpting technique appeared far more advanced than most.

Already halfway across the room, Kaveh paused at the tables the bird overlooked. They were large enough for someone to lay across and still have room between their feet and the edge. Respectively, gold and silver symbols were embroidered on the bases. Two rugs lay on either table with intricate patterning far more intimately elaborate than those sold at any regular Sumeru market. Even some high-end sellers were put to shame. Kaveh brushed a hand over the fabric, feeling the soft texture oddly void of sand after all this time.

As for the remainder of the room, the walls were inlaid with a language with stroke patterns similar to desert script, but undecipherable using conventional means. Like a distant cousin to the main branch in the family of language.

Accompanying the new language were murals and paintings on the walls. Depictions of people, locations, and events. The paintings aligned with entrances to other rooms telling a story far more comprehensive than they had time for. “One of these must be a way out,” Kaveh said, breaking the silence of their awe. His words were almost bittersweet.

“I’ll check this side of the room,” Alhaitham said. Kaveh nodded and took the other side, but after peering into a few rooms, he came to realize that none of them led to a way out. Instead, they led to more writing and puzzles in relation to the murals on the wall, and in all of the time he desert ruins, he knew he’d never come across anything like this.

One room in particular drew Kaveh’s attention. Its beautifully crafted structure created precedence for these paintings as opposed to any conventional layout. The room was there to tell the story rather than favor functional purpose. Aesthetics before functionality. For the power King Deshret had over the creation of the ruins, Kaveh thought he was free to dictate any which way to design a structure. Even one that could break some rules of architecture here and there. An experimental vision that Kaveh greatly appreciated.

After a while, the two met back in the central room. With the moving platform blocked off from the shifting walls yet again, they were out of luck.

Kaveh growled. “There has to be some way out. How does a room just close off all exits by itself!?”

Alhaitham leaned against the other table. “This room is a puzzle, and it’s meant to be solved. I would rather spend time getting started than waste it looking for an unconventional exit.”

“But our priority should be getting you medical help,” Kaveh said. Frustration blended into worry. “With this makeshift solution, there is no way to tell if your arm will heal properly. That could be permanent damage. If we must leave some unconventional way, then so be it.” He summoned his claymore again. “These ruins have sustained far more than us possibly breaking down the walls. We know the location and we can come back…”

“Kaveh, the walls cannot be broken,” Alhaitham said.

“Sure they can. Your sword broke through them earlier. If we use that to our advantage then—”

“While you were still in that last room, I hacked at the wall where the platform we came in was.” Alhaitham gestured to the wall looking as if it was newly built. “As you can see, it is completely unscathed.” He pointed to the ceiling. “The blue light from the edges acts as an impenetrable barrier. I remember this has similarly been used in other ruins to create invisible walls.”

Alhaitham was right. Those mechanisms were a blend of elemental energy, light refraction, and King Deshret’s technology.

“Ugh…of course! I’m so glad I was thrown into a ruin that loves to trap its victims in a sea of endless mechanisms and puzzles!” Kaveh slid his feet against the floor and pushed his back against the table, sitting down with his head in his hands. The aches of his body punished him for doing so. “If we weren’t trapped and you weren’t injured, maybe I’d actually enjoy this place,” he mumbled.

Silence followed his uneasy pleads.

Despite all his better judgment and what was good for his remaining sanity, the ironic remedy to this puzzle solving mess burned a hole in his handbag. Kaveh’s palms turned white as he clutched the strap.

“This would have done us some good in our prime,” Alhaitham said with a gaze lingering on the decorated walls.

“…I thought you said we’d talk when we get out of here.”

He gave Kaveh an amused stare. “That appears to be longer than anticipated.”

With difficult words at the tip of his tongue, Kaveh looked away, afraid to voice them. “You keep coming back trying to mend old wounds. For someone who values efficiency, you should know it’s not worth your time.”

Alhaitham hummed with a sincere resonance deep in his chest. “Then, at the very least, I need your help to solve this puzzle.”

If they couldn’t address the side of the thesis that brought about Kaveh’s guilt, then they could at least address the side that he enjoyed the most and hoped Alhaitham enjoyed just as much.

Echoing words of strained pining plagued his mind. He tapped the back of his head on the table harder than anticipated. “I did go back home, just not for every long,” Kaveh said, joining Alhaitham’s side.

Kaveh unclipped the notch and rummaged around his bag.

He cleared his throat and held out their research paper. “What to find rich, life changing secrets?”

A small smile appeared on Alhaitham’s lips. “While you were back, you should have replaced it with mine. Working with such an abysmal copy will strain my eyes.”

With mine…he kept his too.

“You are unbelievable.”

Chapter Text

The thesis, unbounded and unkept, sprawled across the tabletop with an orderliness passable for crumpled and worn papers. The puzzles here felt solvable without background knowledge, sure, but a researcher, akin to an adventurer, took advantage of every resource on hand. Together, Kaveh and Alhaitham read through the text, refreshing their minds on the research project they once undertook with a gaggle of people and naive exhilaration.

Kaveh sighed as he read the title in his head.

Decoding the Runes and Architectural Philosophy of the Ruins of King Deshret’s Civilization.

This was going to be a long one.

To his surprise, it took but a few minutes for their academic haunches to ground them, leaving behind any malice from their earlier conflicts. It was as if they were back on the divan reading books that reminded them of their quaint research in the Akademiya. Nothing could have prepared him for the mountainous waves of emotion he’d been through since then, nor that he and Alhaitham would be nose deep in the pages of their thesis because it posed as useful for their newfound life-or-death situation.

As they settled into the exposition, Alhaitham stopped coddling his arm. Kaveh hoped his pain had subsided because he too healed in the other’s presence again.

Wrapped in a honeyed voice reading the words from eons ago, Kaveh calmed the tension in his body. A stray strand of hair fell to his face every now and again from the lack of frenzied red clips that were now on Alhaitham’s shoulder. Despite home being beyond the confines of this ruin and a day’s journey away, some resemblance of it sat comfortably in his heart. In their element, they pushed aside the harsh words spoken the day before for the more interesting topic at hand. The paper itself was never the problem. No ounce of Kaveh denied his enjoyment in researching with Alhaitham, but the thesis was forced to suffer the consequences. This time they had a chance to mend its heartache.

While pouring over the contents, every so often they would critique the execution of inexperienced and tender pens, but moments of aptitude were where they began to shine. Their minds melded away, replacing argument with knowledge. Snappy comebacks transformed into thoughtful rebuttals, and their needless bickering into substantial debate. Words easily blended together, and trails of thoughts were soundly met with competent speech. This was a stark contrast to the people holding them back so long ago, but Kaveh would never admit that. What he could admit was the stark contrast to the people they were just a little while ago.

“This citation regarding the order the ruins were created in has no sound evidence,” Alhaitham said, reviewing a page from Kaveh’s section. “Luckily you didn’t use it to draw any conclusions, but it’s not like you to put this type of content in a paper.”

“No…I don’t remember which person it was, but one of our other partners suggested it to me.” Kaveh scratched his head trying to recall the information from that cited document, dusting an old shelf in his mind’s library. “If I remember correctly, the original author writes more speculative works with word of mouth and few substantial points of evidence. I added it there because in that same text, there was an interesting thought about the reason behind the ruin locations. They were in the Rtawahist Darshan, so they related it back to the stars one way or another. That’s about all I recall. I probably left it in hopes of finding other related ideas.”

“Or did you mean to appease someone’s lackadaisical mind?”

“The others had knowledge of their own right,” Kaveh defended, and silence followed. “But maybe not to the level of genius you aspire to surround yourself with.” Outside the Palace of Alcazarzaray wasn’t the first time Alhaitham called him a genius, but it left Kaveh balking at the bitter steps of the empyrean stairway. Gulping down that red bitterness at Lambad’s night after night came with tolerance. Accepting genius above the rest could be something he tolerated—to an extent—as well.

Just like that, Alhaitham was satisfied, and Kaveh hated giving him satisfaction, but this one time, he let it go.

With more cooperative chatting, they soon realized the paper indeed had evidence useful in this room. On architectural philosophy, Kaveh once wrote that art spoke in the absence of the artist, and the architecture of the desert held the perspective of King Deshret’s people. Interpreting that art came hand in hand with the runes that covered the walls. Art and language were the vessel in which history carried its stories. The gods of old valued this notion, so did their thesis, and so did the scholars who still cite the smaller essays they published from its ideas. So, of course the basis of the thesis applied to this circumstance, but the specifics of some topics invigorated them.

Whether the language was adapted from King Deshret’s influence or after the collapse of his rule was determined by their surroundings. The unified civilization of the desert emphasized efficiency in standardization with materials, architecture, and engineering, but the centuries after King Deshret’s fall birthed new civilizations that evolved from the original design. He documented these pivotal turning points in architecture in their research, so his previous attributions of the ruin to King Deshret’s design were not unwarranted, but the bird statue that overlooked their movements with its intent glaze questioned his assumptions.

Birds in historical texts during this era boiled down to the Seven Pillars—the Ibis King and Bennu. While they had few structures to compare to, the Ibis King had a human form, and the latter was a different species of bird entirely. They returned to the pages examining even the symbols of Bennu to the language on the walls but to no avail.

Birds were also associated with the Golden Slumber, and in the inscriptions from the Mausoleum’s Depths Alhaitham once vividly critiqued the translation of, he paraphrased, “In order to ascend to Aaru, one must soar above the underworld and fly across the river in the form of a falcon.” The falcon’s face best matched the statue’s but was not accurate to the rest of the body.

Despite the bird giving them a run for their Mora, the two continued through their paper, and with what felt like several hours gone by, they finished reviewing it. They poured out a boat load of information over those several hours. The paper was decorated with annotations and edits with the pencils Kaveh had left over. Since Alhaitham lacked his writing hand, the annotations were all written by Kaveh but evenly distributed between the two. While it still bore the appearance of matted and frantically pieced together shredded trash, it gained the tender care it lacked. The corrected paper now served as their literary review for the on-field work ahead.

Despite the necessity to leave—for the sake of running to Bimarstan and changing into fresh clothes which Kaveh oh so wished he hadn’t left at home—Alhaitham took his sweet time. Sure, that meant he felt okay enough to keep his energy up for whatever this ruin threw at them, but how was he so sure that mindset would hold up in the next few hours? Days? Weeks? A certain twin-tailed madam popped into his head before he slid that thought away for later.

Kaveh’s laugh cut through their reorganization of the papers. “After all that, I still feel like I could keep going. Do these really get easier with time or is there something else at play here?” Kaveh recalled documentations of ruins that distorted time.

“I wouldn’t draw that conclusion just yet,” Alhaitham said. “But I will take advantage of the extended stamina.” Alhaitham stepped away from their work area and headed towards the walls, Kaveh joined him, leaving their mess on the table. They stared at the symbols and runes.

“After all that, there’s still another language in this desert yet to be deciphered,” Kaveh said, bittersweet.

Alhaitham brushed his hand against runes. “There are some patterns of desert script in this language.”

Reviewing their thesis may have been a nostalgia trip, but finding something new did indeed unlock their energy reserves. Alhaitham’s gaze was so fixed on the wall he might have already begun to decipher the language in his head. In the Akademiya, he once attributed language to the form and regulations of architecture. It had rules to dissect and structure to uphold, and its evolution followed a similar philosophy to art. Kaveh wondered what Alhaitham might have to say about it now.

From his bag, Kaveh pulled out a pouch and waved it around until Alhaitham held out his hand. It clacked from the inside as it landed in Alhaitham’s palm. “It’s chalk.” He recalled when Alhaitham told him to cut back on the packing—look what came in handy now! “There are some more of your runes in other rooms. If I could lend my hands to you I would, but I should get started on the puzzles.”

Alhaitham simply nodded with a mellow smile on his face. Kaveh wondered what he said that was so amusing.

An awkward quietness followed him as he stepped away into the closest room. Kaveh cursed his sentimental thoughts for their sneaky distraction, but the room in front of him aptly filled the tension in his mind with bewilderment. This was the room Alhaitham had the pleasure of examining beforehand which left Kaveh to marvel at its beauty for the first time. Its tasteful artistic expertise was exhibited in its technology, puzzle making, paintings, and architecture. Existing light in the room was forced to bend at a large concentration towards the back wall. It then bounced back towards the hundreds of hanging pieces of rock tied by rope attached to mechanisms in the ceiling. Several levers on the ground activated the tracks of rope and moved them in various directions.

As Kaveh got to work, he flipped the levers to align the rocks to capture every part of the light. It felt like those thousand-piece jigsaw puzzles of one color and the only indication of their fit was the shape of the piece itself. While Kaveh never could sit in his leisure for a puzzle of that kind, he reminisced on fond memories of his father’s jigsaw puzzle collection. He would come home from the market with a puzzle box and lay out all the pieces after dinner. Kaveh watched him build the frame first then focused on groups close to the border. Somehow, Kaveh always matched a group of pieces in the middle of the board that his father couldn’t connect until the very end. This rock puzzle board required that very strategy as he pushed the edges out of the way and built out from the center.

After what seemed like several hours of work, he flawlessly condensed all the rocks to the light. They all hung at different distances in the room, so at a glance it looked chaotic, but on the wall, a reflection of the light created a shadow of the giant pyramid in the middle of the desert—the Mausoleum of King Deshret. The absence of light revealed paintings and writing in that new language. While he couldn’t transcribe the writing, he could understand the art held symbolism akin to the soul.

Fresh on his mind from the thesis, Kaveh remembered that in King Deshret’s search for Aaru, the Golden Slumber, he separated his soul into nine pieces. Supposedly the Golden Slumber would benefit from the separation of the mind from the body and so on. The details on the nine parts of the soul were lost to time with the exception of some unsubstantial conclusions. Even Kaveh dabbled at the idea of looking at Soul Theory through the lens of architectural philosophy, but the conclusion was never fully realized in their thesis.

If this room spoke of the secrets of the soul, the others must also have more lost knowledge to share. As for the Mausoleum of King Deshret, it somehow shadowed over the existence of this truth.

After practically committing the painting by memory, he left the room to tell Alhaitham of his findings. Back in the eyes of the bird, he was surrounded by several paragraphs of sloppily written words, albeit far better than most attempts made by the average person to write with their nondominant hand. Alhaitham’s concentration put Kaveh at ease since his arm hadn’t seriously troubled him.

“I’m back,” Kaveh called out. Alhaitham’s attention adorned Kaveh. “If you need more material, this room has quite a lot written on the wall.”

“I don’t recall that room having any writing.”

So, Kaveh spent the next few minutes telling him all about the puzzle. He complimented the craftsmanship and even the artistry of using shadows to draw the shape of an object in an unconventional way. He even mentioned his hypothesis regarding the theme of souls in this ruin.

“Then I will look it over next,” Alhaitham said. “I am making progress, but far from ready to have fully understood the language. This work is highly advanced. A higher level than the method used to decode desert script.” By his tone of voice, Kaveh couldn’t tell if he bragged or genuinely expressed his process. Likely a little of both. “It’s difficult to say how long this will take me.”

Then, that pressing matter came back to Kaveh’s attention. “How long have we been in here?” Alhaitham stayed silent, and by the contemplative look on his face, he questioned that too. “I thought the amount of time it takes to feel hunger would suffice, but it’s felt far longer than that.”

Tension came to Alhaitham’s brow and cheeks. Worry spread across Kaveh’s face. “It’s difficult to tell in confinement. Sometimes the hours feel longer when there is no form of mechanism of time,” he said, unsure. “If you’re done in there, I would suggest looking through a few more rooms before raising the question again.” His words simply buried their worries in the piles of information in these rooms. A distraction worthy of their headspace.

“Okay.”

So, Kaveh continued to the next room and the room after that. Alhaitham followed as soon as Kaveh had a lead or discovered new writing. They bounced between rooms, one after another, separately collecting information as they went. For the puzzles themselves, they were a range of difficulties that strained every fiber of Kaveh’s technical knowledge. Every single one above the difficulty Kaveh encountered on his several expeditions to the desert ruins, but this was no cause for concern. In fact, he felt working through them expanded his thought process and outlook on the very foundation on puzzle making.

One room used optical illusions to bend a system of tubes in the precise way to calculate the weight distribution of the amount of sand pouring from them. Another, the use of hydraulics to create mechanical energy for the movement of platforms across the room, creating a boat once pieced together. Even a room with the movement of the paintings on the wall, creating a city once the tiles were in order. And each room came with a subsequent artifact or symbol about the movement of people, knowledge, and the soul.

A few puzzles later, Kaveh and Alhaitham regrouped in the central room at the tables where their thesis remained. By now, the walls and floor were covered in chalk, the room treaded a million times, and the eyes of the bird peered down at the same two people.

“Now is it reasonable to question the lack of hunger and fatigue?” Kaveh said outright. There was a breath of silence as the situation sunk in. Kaveh held his arms together with a timid grip. In the back of his mind, when this question became exceedingly imminent, he thought of one of his friends who likely had the answers to their situation. “Faruzan was stuck in a ruin like this for 100 years,” he said, humbled by the thought. “She described it to me once…she didn’t feel hunger or physical fatigue and the puzzles acted as solely a testament of her mind.” He looked at the ground with weary eyes. “The strain put her in such a state that she does not recall the details of the puzzles nor the solutions.” Kaveh remembered the shifting walls and piles of sand. This ruin had the ability to reset itself. “Whether this is that ruin or not, a puzzle that takes a great mind like hers a century to solve is possible…”

“A century for us is not realistic,” Alhaitham said abruptly. “Faruzan, while a genius in her field of mechanics and machine language, does not have natural linguistic expertise.” Alhaitham left plenty of time for someone to sing his praises.

Kaveh scoffed. “Now’s not the time to gloat.”

“I am only stating the facts,” he said. “She also is just one person. Two can at least halve her time. With a written literature review, the language steadily being deciphered, and your knowledge of this technology and architecture, we have already cut off a few decades,” Alhaitham said. His calm eyes eased Kaveh’s mind. “An incredible feat by Faruzan to learn this from scratch, but it is undeniable to say we have a significant advantage.”

Kaveh pressed his lips together. The silence of the room outweighed the business of the walls and the excitement of the puzzles. It outweighed the textbook of information on the table before them. “We are just the perfect candidates for this puzzle, aren’t we?” Kaveh mumbled in annoyance. A passing thought, but Alhaitham glanced at Mehrak who sat peacefully turned off near the statue this whole time.

After a pause in their conversation, Kaveh saw Alhaitham tugging at the makeshift sling. “How’s your arm holding up?”

Alhaitham lightly touched his arm. “The pain has somewhat subsided. I have been graciously distracted this whole time to worry about it too much,” he said. Kaveh stared at his shoulder and examined the sling. “It’s fine, Kaveh.”

Kaveh stared at the ground.

“About that first room you explored…” Alhaitham continued. “I found more to the puzzle.”

A light came back into Kaveh’s eyes. “You’ll have to show me!” And Kaveh practically dragged Alhaitham back into the room with words alone. To think there was more than just the shadow of the rocks made his spirits soar.

From that point on, the two retraced their steps and caught each other up on the progress they made. Kaveh taught Alhaitham the puzzles and Alhaitham showed him the basic gist of the language he still attempted to decipher. They added new thoughts to each other’s observations. Kaveh related his basic understanding of the language to the research done in their thesis and Alhaitham would form a new perspective on the paintings that dotted the walls of the rooms.

Soon, the time began to meld together. Their efforts towards deciphering the rooms before them became the forefront of their minds. It enveloped them and made them nearly forget about their occupations on the surface. Kaveh rarely thought about the world above. The drive of another person wanting to accomplish the same goal expanded Kaveh’s stamina, and his academic mind. With little excuse for breaks, their company was enough to keep them going. The hours began to meld together. They couldn’t tell day from night, the amount of time they’d spent in one room as opposed to the other, or how long they’d spent staring at the walls.

That was, until a week—weeks? Months? After they poured through all the rooms countless times, when the chalk from the pouch almost completely transferred on the walls and floor, and when Alhaitham’s handwriting with his left hand appeared even more flawless than his right, the two sat together in the main room, anticipating the breakthrough of their work.

Alhaitham rushed to the table and grabbed one of Kaveh’s pencils. On the back of the last page of their thesis, Alhaitham quickly scribbled all his thoughts down. After a minute or so, he finished the language’s translation key, and once he lifted his head, Kaveh saw his look of triumph—the look of adrenaline the moment the climax of discovery brought. Alhaitham handed Kaveh the key. He poured over the small writing and charts of morphology and syntax and the symbols and placements of lines in the runes. Some of Kaveh’s own suggestions even made it onto the page—the architect’s eye of structure and shape of the runes and their meaning.

“There is far more to write, but this is sufficient enough for me to recall each element and its depth,” Alhaitham said. “Let me show you.” Alhaitham brought Kaveh to the very first writing he worked on. “I have translated this a while ago, but with the key, it is easily understood.”

Alhaitham helped Kaveh through the key and explained in depth the nuance of his writing. After some time, Kaveh could translate the wall himself, remembering some of the updates Alhaitham gave him throughout their time within these walls. “The second to fall, split their soul to nine, awaits the final resting bed,” Kaveh read. He paused and looked at Alhaitham not knowing what to think.

“Let’s finish this room then,” Alhaitham said, and they walked around the room, translating the runes together.

The room described an “Elixir of soul splitting,” Kaveh read, while accompanied by a picture of golden liquid. He read “The eye of containment,” accompanied by a picture of it buried beneath a giant maze.

“The second to fall foresaw a solution to the effects of remains,” Alhaitham read. “Mind separated from flesh and bone and placed within the corridors, stairways, doorways, and beams that crawled eternally into the depths.”

“The second to fall, sacrificed their soul for the sanctity of Sumeru,” Kaveh read. Surrounding the doors, were runes that Alhaitham translated to be pieces of the soul. He said these were the most difficult to translate as their words do not exist in the common language, but he got as close to a translation as he could.

“This room,” he pointed to the room with the picture of the Mausoleum of King Deshret, “is the shadow. Supposedly a representation of the person they leave behind.” Alhaitham looked across the room. “The puzzle of moving people is the name and identity of the soul.”

“And that’s Aaru Village,” Kaveh said breathlessly. Alhaitham’s curious expression made him eager to explain his discovery. Kaveh walked around the room, pointing to the various entrances. “This room closely resembles Sekhem Hall; the room of disappearing and shifting floors, Opet Hall; and the room representing the shadow is the Mausoleum of King Deshret.” His mind raced, connecting the dots and suddenly connected a memory of another time these specific locations appeared together. “Do you remember that chess board in front of the ruins of Safhe Shatranj?” Alhaitham nodded. They traveled there together one time on account of a joint trip for Alhaitham’s curiosity about someone else’s inaccurate research proposal. “All these locations mirror those on the board…the parts of the soul represent these locations, so the pieces of the second to fall’s soul must be held within these structures,” Kaveh said. Then, another epiphany hit him. “And this rune…” Kaveh brushed his hand over it with the lightest touch of disbelief. “The second to fall,” he read it as. “This must be a character for…”

“King Deshret,” Alhaitham said.

Kaveh turned around with his eyes widened and a fiery expression of discovery. “Each room had that symbol of the soul. There are eight rooms, nine including this one—the nine parts of King Deshret’s soul!”

“You must know, the same position of the bird statue is used in other areas as well, indicating it is also part of this language,” Alhaitham said.

The bird looked down at the two with anticipatory eyes.

“It is the ninth part of the soul—an accumulation of an entire person’s life leading into the afterlife. However, based on the tense of the text, his soul has not yet fully rested,” Alhaitham said.

“Meaning…” Kaveh anticipated the breadth of his conclusion, “King Deshret is still alive…at least partially. If pieces of his soul remain somewhere, then so does he…”

Kaveh sat down on the table, unable to hold his own weight alongside the weight of their discovery. There were many avenues to discuss with these implications, Kaveh didn’t know where to start. King Deshret, the person who created these very ruins himself, the history they’d studied for decades, the conflict of Sumeru’s near expulsion of their Archon; the King Deshret that laid down the groundwork for thousands of texts of knowledge and research; the King Deshret who shared Archon status as the three God-Kings of Sumeru, and the very god that caused the forbidden knowledge to spread in Sumeru, destroying his people in the process. Without physical proof of his existence, the texts and scriptures written in the ruins of the walls were enough for a possibility, and a possibility is the weight of a thousand minds onto one.

“He wished to merge minds, but not souls in the Golden Slumber. His idea was to split the soul of himself and his people to build it…His philosophy served him well,” Alhaitham said sarcastically.

“What do you mean?” Kaveh said, more curious than anything.

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes. “To mettle with the fate of others leads to your own undoing. That is precisely what he orchestrated here—he attempted to force his own knowledge onto people who were incompatible. It’s most effective to mind one’s own business.”

Kaveh shifted in his seat. “To be so unapologetically critical of the gods is a trait only you hold with pride, Alhaitham,” he said. “What do you expect from a god? Someone who neglects their people?”

“The undoing of a god is in having a benevolence that disrupts their equilibrium. People are inherently the culmination of their subconscious mind, but it is ultimately in their control to chart their course of actions. To have the desire to change that is far beyond worthy of their time and effort. Afterall, it is entirely trivial to have a collective of likeminded people. Those likeminded people would fail in their pursuit of knowledge while dichotomy would succeed,” Alhaitham said. “In King Deshret’s unified mind, where is the sanctity of indifference? That was his ultimate failure in realizing his ideals.”

Kaveh felt the silence draw on longer than he meant. Kaveh agreed with his reasoning, but experience taught him that conclusion couldn’t be farther from the truth. The thickness in the air became suffocating, but Kaveh had a confident look in his eyes. “No,” he said standing up from the table. “The failure did not lie in his ideals…but the people he pushed away,” he announced. It came a little too close to home. “You said it yourself. There is sanctity in indifference. The three God-Kings ruled Sumeru peacefully for a time because they respected each other’s perspectives, debated knowledge amongst themselves, and shared the power of wisdom. In a way, they were able to mind their own business while also sharing the pursuit of knowledge. Once he lost this structure, that is when King Deshret was destined for this outcome.”

Upon staring at their thesis, he crawled back into the depths of his churning mind. He leaped forward and frantically grabbed the papers and ordered them. He piled them back in their original stack, adding a few more creases, but all unnoticeable to the already torn pages. “This is the conclusion to the thesis: the answer of what it means for Sumeru to be a nation of wisdom.”

“Tell me about it, Kaveh,” Alhaitham asked with a look of endearment.

“You must understand there is benefit in debate,” Kaveh started.

“Of course,” Alhaitham answered. “Human vision is limited, but it can be perfected through the presence of another genius.”

“Then with more people comes more debate, and with more debate comes more wisdom,” Kaveh said. “For there to be the most wisdom, there must be the most people and in the setting of a nation, that is where the most wisdom can come.”

“Then tell me of what capacity this wisdom is passed,” Alhaitham said.

“The capacity for wisdom comes from the very avenues the three God-Kings represented,” Kaveh said. “King Deshret represented communication through thoughts, language, and people; the Goddess of Flowers represented emotion and beauty in the arts; and the Dendro Archon, Lord Kusanali, represents the archivist and structure in which to maintain the progress of wisdom.”

Kaveh finally met Alhaitham’s eyes, and the wealth of wisdom stared back. Alhaitham started, “Through language, arts, and archival—”

“Wisdom comes from the many, not the few,” Kaveh concluded.

Upon the last echo of sound from Kaveh’s lips, the room rumbled. Pieces of the walls broke off like embers into a black abyss.

Kaveh ran close to Alhaitham, fumbling to put the papers away. He looked for Mehrak who was nowhere to be found. “What’s happening!?”

Alhaitham shielded Kaveh from the falling dust and rubble from the cracks and broken pieces of sandstone that fell around them. “It seems there was someone waiting for our answer,” he said roughly.

He could only think of one relevant someone who would have the interest and power to follow their conversation in the depths of this ruin.

The last thing Kaveh caught a glimpse of was the glowing eyes from the large bird statue, the representation of the ninth part of the soul. A sense of peacefulness washed over him as if letting go of the tethers of his body.

Chapter Text

Within the tranquil walls and cool air and between the duties of the Temple of Silence, Sethos spent his days in the library pouring through the collection of books and memorabilia that spanned hundreds of lifetimes. He searched within their pages for an answer to a nagging feeling he had since the day a certain matter was brought to his attention.

He read books about the death rituals of priests and sages; the mummification process and the Soulferry; and texts about the journey to Aaru: “In order to ascend to Aaru, one must have a body like that of a vulture and soar above the underworld. One should peck at three different organs in order to obtain the consent of Al-Ahmar, and fly across the river in the form of a falcon.” Sethos searched with one clear goal in mind: information on the Djed. He knew the pillars symbolized the afterlife, death, and resurrection given to those of the highest status for the peaceful passage to the afterlife. He was taught the Djed didn't like being taken from its home. Sethos knew a lot of the Djed’s quirks already. After all, he was taught by his grandfather who maintained the knowledge of previous Temple of Silence leaders, but from this history, he felt there was something missing in relation to the Djed and Kaveh and Alhaitham’s sudden possession of it. There were dots he hadn’t connected yet and somewhere in the temple held the answer to his questions.

On this faithful day, Sethos dipped into the hidden archives meant only for the highest officials and the leader of the Temple of Silence. The texts, unknown to the public and even to some within the temple, were held in a small, hidden room behind the throne. The information inside was more worthy to guard than all the unshared secrets of the temple’s library. Unease settled in as he passed the origin of the Temple of Silence’s knowledge. It was a book created to document Hermanubis’ secrets and prophecies. The papyrus folded neatly open, wrapped in a leather string and under a glass case. As he lifted its container, the smell of wood and dusty roots swished through the air. Sethos handled the papyrus with delicacy and spread it out on the podium. The writing was in the old language of the desert—symbols that remained among the ruins today, but only a few could properly translate them. Sethos, read it flawlessly. A few pages in, and he found a prophecy from Al-Ahmar himself delivered through Hermanubis himself.

As he read through it, his eyes widened, and his heart raced. A sharp exhale left his mouth before the words could fully form themselves on his tongue. Then, a small, childlike voice joined him in the room. “Sethos, tell me what you found,” she said.

He turned around and saw the Dendro Archon standing in front of him, or rather, a projection of herself in his mind. Her green eyes were full of worry, and her small hands were placed at her heart.

“Archon, did you know?” he asked, clutching at the papyrus.

She shook her head. “I am just now finding out about this the same as you are.”

Sethos swallowed his fear and, to her request, read, “Two allogenes marked with death must fly to rebirth to godhood.” Nahida met his eyes with a shock that only came from the confirmation of facts. Sethos voiced his thoughts, stern and unwavering, “Where are Alhaitham and Kaveh?”

*

The darkness peeled back to reveal a glorious and tranquil land. The bright sun laid the shadow of a giant ferry on top of Kaveh and Alhaitham like a cool towel amid the hot sand, yet that very sand led to the greenery of a lush oasis. It was the start to a forest, much like Sumeru’s, but with a more peaceful transition of land as opposed to a giant spiking wall.

Alhaitham held out his right arm that was, to his surprise, no longer in a sling. The tightness of the cloth around Kaveh’s waist came back to him. Their scratches and bruises were completely gone, and by the looks of it, the that arm of Alhaitham’s was fully healed. It was as if their fall never happened.

The path that took them into the forest was their only way forward and the uncertainty of this place left Kaveh nervous. “Are you ready to see it through?” he said, breaking the silence.

“Our choices are insignificant here,” Alhaitham said bluntly, but Kaveh couldn’t disagree.

They walked forward into the forest past the line of trees and brush, and within the confines of the lush greenery, the path led them to a cascading waterfall and a small pond at the center of the clearing. The water was so serene that Kaveh’s nerves dissipated, and he fell into a more relaxed state of mind. In front of the pond, a small table with four seats built of tree stumps and bark sat amongst the assortment of flowers. Their colors and patterning seemed too perfect to be naturally grown that way.

And from the views of paradise, the soft voice of a woman kissed the tips of their ears like the light touch of a feather. “Your ib is strong,” she said with pellucidity. In her few words alone, she expressed the gracefulness and tenderness of motherly care. The weight in her tone carried her many experienced years.

Upon looking at her very figure, she gave the most peaceful of smiles. Eyes of somber care met Kaveh’s. Her figure exhibited excellence of the highest caliber as well as dark skin as brilliant as the flowers behind her. Golden jewelry adorned her body from her earrings to her extravagant and multilayered necklace. The black horns atop her head reminded Kaveh of Nilou’s with the additional gold crown intertwined between them.

Then, a figure of great stature stepped out from the brush, and as if an explorer reaching the climax of his expedition, he finally saw the view he’d hoped for from the start of his journey. He dawned a headdress in resemblance to the feathers of a bird and with nodes of a silver finish that complimented his skin. A jeweled collar rested on his shoulders and his chest was exposed showing his muscular body. Above all, his eyes were fierce and grandiose with a strength unmatched by anyone Kaveh had met. It was as if Kaveh stared straight into the sun without the consequence of its intensity.

A grandiose smile appeared on his face, and he threw his arms out in benevolence. “How wonderful it is!” he said with his joyous and booming voice. “To be in the presence of accomplished individuals such as yourselves fills my soul with a sensation you couldn’t possibly imagine.”

Kaveh’s breath escaped his body as if his own soul rumbled in the shear presence of these individuals. They evoked the weight of time itself—a kind of longevity Kaveh wished to evoke in his art. It was the longevity of the desert ruins brought to the thousand-year-old beliefs on present day Sumeru. These larger-than-life figures held a radiance of the eras long before Kaveh and the wisdom of the heavens itself.

Without a doubt, the people standing before him were Nabu Malikata and King Deshret.

Yet, despite this revelation, Alhaitham spoke impatient words that brought Kaveh back from his venture of shock. “Where are we?”

“A still moment of time within the belly of the Dragon of Verdure,” King Deshret said. “We have spent quite some time here. I am happy to accompany you to the table.” He beckoned them towards the flowing water and at that table amidst the lush greenery.

Kaveh saw Alhaitham held reservations, but they both sought answers only the gods could give. Under such circumstances, Kaveh thought he would be exhilarated to have the attention of the gods who shaped Sumeru for thousands of years. They were at the pinnacle of what researchers dreamed of all their lives, himself included, but the thrill fell short, and necessity settled in as if his soul fought for his survival.

Seeing their submission to the request, Nabu smiled and guided the way. “Ever since the restoration of the Heart of Oasis, this place has recovered tremendously,” she said with reverence. King Deshret helped her to her seat, and the rest joined her. “It’s a melancholy feeling to know our time to roam this place is nearly over.”

“What does that mean?” Kaveh asked.

“Esteemed guests, Kaveh, Alhaitham. By now you have surely figured out our identities but allow me to properly introduce myself. My titles have come and gone throughout my time, but you know me best as King Deshret, Lord of the Blazing Suns. With me is Nabu Malikata, Goddess of Flowers.” The Minister of the Sands leaned forward with impending, broad shoulders. “It is imperative we tell you why we brought you here.”

Suddenly, Kaveh was reminded of their discoveries in the ruin. It felt like he successfully recalled a dream after he woke up.

“You were able to deduce my scripture and messaging quite well. Far faster than any average academic,” King Deshret smiled proudly. He crossed his arms, preparing to tell a tale. “It is true that the structures of the desert built by my people’s hand became the very place to house parts of Forbidden Knowledge and the soul, however, while pieces of my soul reside in the stairways and beams of the depths of the Golden Slumber, it is Nabu’s that reside in the real corridors and doorways of the structures in the desert.”

“My death was a planned sacrifice for the sake of learning all there is to know about the skies and the abyss,” Nabu started. “I succeeded, however, I had not understood Deshret would mourn me so. Upon my death, he collected my soul that was fractured into so many pieces, it was thought only the Shade of Life herself could put it back together. From our previous experimentation, he learned to house my split soul within these walls until he could find a solution.” Nabu swirled her finger around and used flower dyes to paint a mockup of the ruin on the table. She displayed the pieces of her soul in their corresponding rooms, confirming their discovery. “As if the power of fate and knowledge of the heavens wasn’t enough for him to concede, he spent the rest of his life searching for knowledge to revive me.”

Kaveh could see the gods were full of regret. Their demeanor drastically changed from when they first met them. Their discoveries in the ruin, while leaning in the right direction, had completely missed the mark. This reality was a far more tragic one than he imagined.

“If that’s the case, where does your soul lie?” Alhaitham asked King Deshret.

The power of the sun renewed his gusto. King Deshret used the light that came from above and refracted it to create a green amulet that radiated a fiery warmth. It was a similar shape to something Kaveh had seen before, but he couldn’t pinpoint where.

For each room representing one fraction of the nine parts of the soul, he placed the locations of his own soul. “Kusanali constructed what have now been deemed ‘Towers of Betrayal’ to mitigate the destruction the Forbidden Knowledge brought. I used the towers infused with her power of life to split my soul—a feat I had long before discovered the methods of. Various pieces of it reside in the Golden Slumber corrupted by Forbidden Knowledge, Apep, and in the form of my name spread among the people of Sumeru,” he said. Then, he looked at the amulet in the palm of his hand. “The final and most important pieces of my soul were placed in my life’s work. I used my Ib to reinforce the structure to withstand my Ba and Sekhem. It is a Wedjat Eye more powerful than any previous ones I made. These are the mechanisms of which we have used to keep ourselves in some sort of form to continue until this moment.”

Kaveh realized King Deshret spoke of the untranslatable symbols of the soul, and that the amulet in his hand, the Wedjat Eye, was similar to the one Alhaitham once told him about during a recent Sabzeruz Festival.

Alhaitham dangled the Djed Pillars on their twine in front of the gods. “Then I presume these are yours.”

Nabu clasped her hands together and Deshret shifted coldly in his seat. The air between the two sides of the table changed, and it made Kaveh very uneasy.

“The truth is…” she looked away, unable to meet their eyes, “they are yours.”

Kaveh’s heart froze, and his body tensed because somehow, he had a feeling that was the case. Leaving Alhaitham speechless was a feat in itself—he would know. It seemed leaving them both stunned was a feat only the gods accomplished.

“You haven’t said why we were brought here,” Kaveh pressed on, so very fearful of the answer.

“Today is the date of your death,” the Goddess of Flowers said. “From the moment you fell down the shaft, you never woke up. What you call ‘Primal Constructs’ have watched over your bodies since.”

“What?” Suddenly, Kaveh’s body ached, and his head spun. He felt like vomiting. The Djed Pillars, the strange happenstances of the ruin, and their fleeting human needs all pointed to his aching suspicion that something bigger was at play here, but Kaveh could never have guessed this was it.

Nabu held out a cautionary hand. “It is also the date of your inevitable rebirth.”

“Allow me to explain,” King Deshret interjected. He sat up, drawing attention to his muscular body and hefty chest. Kaveh clenched his fists. “We have been destined to meet long before the events of today,” he started. “My conquest of power over the Heavenly Principles has long been my ambition. I would like to say I had confidence in myself enough to not predict this failure of mine, but this is not true. The Shade of Life would not answer to me, but the Shade of Death granted me an opportunity. If I did not succeed with the Golden Slumber, I would trade it for the lives of two others to be rewritten as gods. Our Sekhem is far too powerful to go unchecked, so we underwent these procedures to keep it at bay.”

“Like the branches of Irminsul, the desert sands of Sumeru run deep,” Nabu continued. “The power and ambition we pose cannot simply dissipate. Some gods may leave hatred and create demons and monsters in the wake of their death, so ours must be concealed, and a physical vessel is only one part of the process. The vessels our Sekhem have been put in have stood the test of time. The beautiful palaces and temples are crumbling and returning to the sands. The Wedjat Eye Amulet is also leaking into the ruins themselves creating anomalies that have been costly to time and lives. To resolve this, it is the human mind and its constant thirst for knowledge that will be able to sustain our ambition.”

“In this regard,” King Deshret said with a much grander tone, “we must pass the power of our ambition onto another. The subject of which has always been determined by design,” and King Deshret gestured to the very two people sitting in front of him: Kaveh and Alhaitham. They were each to receive the power of a god thought to have been dead for thousands of years. “My plans determined you would receive this power further in your life. Yet, Shait is the ultimate courier of Akh, and she has forced our hands to bring you here faster than I imagined.”

Alhaitham stood up, scraping the chair against the dirt and stone. “Fate,” he said sternly. Kaveh could no longer balk at the gods and instead watched Alhaitham’s unsettled expression. He knew a part of him felt that way too.

“Long have signs of your death been foretold since your dreams of green fields and reeds,” King Deshret said with a booming voice, desperate to gain their attention again. “It is to be assumed that she has brought you here on her schedule.”

“I have no use for this power,” Alhaitham muttered.

For a responsibility so immense, Alhaitham so easily declined it. Kaveh slowly lifted himself from his seat and placed a hand on Alhaitham’s back. He thought it was a pitiful effort to console, but he too needed a reminder that he was not the only one up for the mantle.

Nabu gave an apologetic smile. “That is precisely why this path was meant for no one but you two,” she said.

“I am content with my life as is,” Alhaitham said. “I have no interest in gaining the power of a god.”

For once, Kaveh stood behind Alhaitham’s blunt delivery. Any other day and he would snap at him for being rude to whoever the receiver was…but today, those words ran dry as the desert because the King of Sands whisked them away with the dunes and brought in a sinking realization that settled in his mind like quicksand. “The puzzle in the ruin…” Kaveh breathed, “Do you mean to say Sumeru will always need its three pillars of wisdom to be represented by three gods?”

A look of relief washed over Nabu’s face. She walked around the table with an eloquence he could never wish to copy. She held Kaveh’s hands in hers and looked up at his eyes. “Our differences in philosophy divided us because our ambitions were stronger than our resolve. We may have had intelligence, but Kusanali was the wisest among us. We are now passing our learned wisdom onto you, so you don’t make the same mistakes we have,” she said softly.

“I just don’t understand…why Alhaitham and I?”

“I hold my reservations about the process of this transfer too. I feel remorse for the unburdened life you would have led as humans,” she sighed. “You are not aware of your history, and therefore, you are not aware of your promise made with Kusanali’s previous incarnation. You have lived countless lifetimes before this one to prepare for this very moment. The two of us were long gone before she found you as the candidates of Deshret’s mandate and constructed those ruins you lay in.”

Somehow, the questions about this past overshadowed the gods in front of him. Lives that he couldn’t even imagine already set his fate in stone…A fate that the Dendro Archon, whether she knew it or not, decided before he ever had a say.

As King Deshret joined them, he stood with Nabu who complimented his stern demeanor. “We may have executed this plan, but never without her suggestion,” he said. “This was the last request she made upon the moment our ambitions took hold of us, and we separated—to uphold the structure of three God-Kings when the necessity is imminent.”

“What exactly is going to happen for there to be a necessity of three gods at this very moment?” Alhaitham said.

The gods, for all their wisdom and knowledge, could not have thought of a better way to deliver any of this news?

“Once the transfer is complete, we will rest, and you will return to your Khet. There is an ally of ours who will meet and guide you,” Nabu said.

“He is the one responsible for bringing you here,” King Deshret added. “But that is in the hands of the future. Have you accepted Shait’s will?”

With the god’s unresolved end and Kaveh and Alhaitham’s unresolved beginning, neither party had a true desire to move forward, but “The choice has already been made for us, has it not?” Alhaitham voiced.

“I do apologize,” King Deshret said. He placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head. The feathers of his headdress titled towards the ground with the sincerest of sorrows. “These were truly my actions that led us here. I believed my cause would create a better future for my people and free them of the confines of this world’s knowledge. Instead, I have created a bigger issue yet to be resolved.” The Lord of the Blazing Suns shed a tear before them. “I accept your anger and this legacy that I have left behind. I only hope the faults of my actions will teach you the bounds not to be crossed in your future.” The prestige of godhood from King Deshret lowered its veil, showing the same capacity for emotion as everyone else. In a way, it was almost human.

The oasis quieted, awaiting their response, so Kaveh and Alhaitham looked at each other, certain of the same goal. “King Deshret, Goddess of Flowers, you have our word we will choose a better future for Sumeru,” Kaveh said, heavy with responsibility. And that was all he had to say to them, because his true desire lay with his last glance at Alhaitham.

“Let’s go home.”

As if taking his last breath, Alhaitham sighed with relief.

Heartfelt gratification came from the gods. Deshret closed his eyes in acceptance and Nabu held her head high with resolution. “Thank you,” she said.

“I must inform you of the various changes that must be made to your mortal body to carry this burden,” King Deshret said. He projected the light to visualize his words. “A mummification must take place to balance the sudden transfer of the Sekhem. As for your Dendro visions, they will be swallowed, and their energy is to dissipate into your body. You must have all power of the soul available to you as a god.”

To think such drastic changes were to happen to their bodies, their lives, their future—even Kaveh had trouble comprehending it all in those brief moments. He already missed the innocence of his daily problems and the simplicity of his routine. The company of his friends, the quiet of his home, the nonsense of bickering…and the argument that they put aside for the rush of discovery—a discovery they hadn’t stumbled into it seemed.

King Deshret relinquished his hand and summoned the Wedjat Eye. Its green glow extended its presence beyond the oasis. The feeling of its power felt larger than the weight of their fate alone.

“Alhaitham, I must have a quick word with you about the intricacies of the Wedjat Eye Amulet,” King Deshret said. The amulet floated in the center of all of them. “My life’s work was never to house pieces of myself into this amulet but was made with this option in mind. In placing parts of my soul into this amulet, its true power has been in dormancy. Once our transfer of power is complete, my soul will be at rest and that dormancy no more. As the inheritor of my Sekhem, it is now in your hands to come to understand this device if you so wish to do so. I believe you are the only person in Teyvat who could finish this project I started, and I trust you to make better decisions than I did.”

“We have fundamentally different philosophies. I should expect myself to,” Alhaitham said confidently, but Kaveh saw his woes.

Even with Alhaitham’s remark, King Deshret was relieved. “Alhaitham, never stray from your resolve.”

The amulet dissipated from the oasis.

The four were perturbed by the silence. Their time was near.

“Kusanali will be informed of your circumstance. She will likely come looking for you,” Nabu said. “We are but disconnected memories to her, but I want her to know that we wish her well. Her sacrifice means a great deal to us, and we wish to say goodbye.”

King Deshret nodded. “And now, we’re saying goodbye to you as well.”

Nabu focused her attention on Alhaitham, whose alertness gave way for her gentle console. Up until now, Alhaitham hadn’t been so at ease. “Your greatest quality is your emotional intelligence. You are the anchor that we lacked. I need you both to look out for each other.”

Then, she brought Kaveh into her care. She wiped a tear from his face. One he didn’t know he had. It was a strange feeling to look into her eyes and see he was loved by the Goddess of Flowers all his life even if this was the first time they met.

“Kaveh, you are brilliant. You will do grand and beautiful things in your time. Promise me your art will be at the forefront of it all.” She pulled him into an embrace of scented flowers and soft petals. Kaveh couldn’t help but return the sentiment. “In another life, I think we would have been great friends,” she said before she stepped away to collect herself.

King Deshret awaited their attention once again to announce, “I expect great things from you—the three of you.” His tone became lugubrious. “You were right to say our fault was in our separation, so for the good of Sumeru, remain united. You may not see this as ideal, but you are the right people to take on this responsibility, and for that, I am grateful I am leaving this nation in good hands. Thank you for finding us and for putting our souls at ease.”

King Deshret and Nabu nodded and stepped into the flowing water. They looked into each other’s eyes as lovers might do as they lay in bed on their final breaths. King Deshret took her hands in his as their bodies began to crumble to sand and flowers. Kaveh felt undeserving to watch their last moments, but his sudden grief left him staring.

The sound of a setar echoed in the clearing for King Deshret had played the tune to which Nabu danced to. She danced beautifully as if this was rehearsed a thousand times over for neither her nor King Deshret made a single mistake. The remnants of their bodies flew into the air like a leaf catching the wind, but they continued until the very last part of them left and the final strum of the instrument faded.

With that, Kaveh and Alhaitham fell unconscious, awaiting their rebirth as the new gods of Sumeru.