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Kaveh had told them Alhaitham had a big personality; he had told everyone that, really. But nobody seemed to believe him.
They didn’t believe there was a time when Alhaitham was considered kind–or shy–or anything!
Nahida had seen the blonde's frustration from constantly being told he was lying.
So, she decided to learn more about her people. Specifically, Alhaitham. It would lead to better cooperation if she could understand him–and maybe she could soothe Kaveh’s grievances at the same time.
Like a teacher who consults their students’ parents to better help them grow.
But in this case, she couldn't really…do that.
The rumors of what had happened to Kaveh were widespread and common information in the Akademiya, a tragedy no one could have predicted…
...But for Alhaitham, no one really seemed to know about his home life.
He had joined the Akademiya early and withdrawn due to a lack of interest before resuming his studies years later.
It truly disheartened Nahida to realize she knew so little about one who helped her so much.
She made her way to her assistant's room, the pitter-patter of her feet against the cold pavement alerting him to her presence long before she opened the door.
“Hat Guy, I got a favor to ask!” Wanderer turned to face her, crossing his arms, “Yeah? Well, spit it out.”
They are still working on his attitude.
“Could you…watch over me while I view Irminsul?” She blinked up at him, choosing to ignore how he rolled his eyes at her. “Really? And what if I take this opportunity to defeat you?”
Nahida crossed her arms, pondering the possibility… “Well, you said it yourself, you have no interest in that.” She closed her eyes momentarily.
“...But if you did, you don't hold the power to stop the pursuit of knowledge.” Her eyes shone brighter in warning, “For as long as there is a need for knowledge, I too shall exist to satiate it.” She dissolved into a fit of giggles, waving her hands to clear the too-thick of air.
“Not to worry, though! I’ll only be dormant for a few hours!” Wanderer had pressed himself against his chair, forgetting it was a god he was talking to.
She always put him on edge.
“Sure. Whatever. Do what you wish.” He spat, trying to regain his usual composure. “You can enter Irminsul wherever, right? Go sit in that corner or something. No one comes by here anyway.” He waved his hand in the direction of a rather empty corner of the room.
But Nahida’s mind lingered on the end of his words…Seems she should find a way to reintroduce him to humans…She’ll settle that later, though.
“Hehe, thanks! If you need me…” She walked over to him, reaching her hands up high, “What?” Wanderer leaned down, coming face to face with the tiny god–who repaid his kindness with a rather strong headbutt.
“What the hell?!” He retreated back swiftly, holding his sore head– “I gave you some of my power, so you can reach me in Irminsul for emergencies!” Nahida rubbed her own head, a pout on her face.
“Try not to get into too much trouble before I’m back…” She glared at him with no hint of the silent threat she had held earlier.
Wanderer groaned–this archon made no sense.
Nahida smiled as she skipped her way to the room corner.
It has been a while since she got some time to expand her knowledge!
“Okay, Hat Guy, wish me luck!” She waved to him despite the fact that he had returned to facing his desk, “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t die, or do. I don’t care.”
She giggled, not feeling the need to respond to him before she entered Irminsul. “Hmm, now where to look…” She brought a hand to her chin, looking up at the tree before her curiously.
Perhaps a simple search of name?
She looked for Alhaitham in the records.
Alhaitham, acting grand sage, age: twenty-four, birthday: Eleventh of February.
Oh!
His birthday is soon! She’ll have to schedule a replacement for him!
But all that information was nearly useless to her–what else could she look for?
She kicked a stray rock in the realm…Ah!
Nahida switched her tactic–changing it to Akademiya student, Alhaitham.
Hehe, Bingo!
Nahida dove into the memories, or rather, the past.
She found herself before a smaller Alhaitham, one that certainly did not hold the same air as her acting grand sage.
This Alhaitham seemed…much more curious.
The boy rose from his sleep, not noticing the tiny god observing him, no one had for years. Not even the sages could catch her subconscious, so of course, this boy wouldn't either.
She observed the child before her with caution. This was no room for a child, but rather it appeared to be an adult's room.
Alhaitham–It doesn’t quite feel right to address him like that…Hmm…
Nahida drifted away from the boy momentarily, seeing a paper with Haitham scribbled rather poorly in the corner.
That’ll work.
Haitham seemed off in his own world; he moved with none of the steadfast determination she had grown to expect of the scribe–this wasn’t the scribe.
It is not fair to compare the two.
She mentally scolded herself–ridding her mind of any assumptions or expectations. Those never got her anywhere.
She followed Haitham through the empty home, observing him as he made himself food, a nutritious meal that would surely keep him full. Haitham took his food with him to a rocking chair, taking a book off the coffee table and curling up into the chair, letting it sway back and forth.
The creaking of the chair was the only sign of life, echoing in the quiet room. Haitham didn’t seem to pay it any mind, reading his book and taking occasional bites of the food.
The room felt…cold. Colder than the usual temperature, memories held. After all, they were frozen in time, she only let the water melt away into a stream of time, the warmth of memories always slipped through the roots of the tree, never lingering for long.
Time seemed to blur–had this child really sat still in silence for so long that it had been rendered unnecessary to record?
Haitham got out of the chair, taking his empty dish and washing it, not touching the others that looked like they had been left sitting there for days.
But yet there were cleaned dishes next to the sink? Why were others cleaned, but those left behind?
Nahida didn’t have long to ponder before a knock rang through the house–Haitham’s face scrunched up in discomfort, making hurried steps to the door so the knocking would cease.
He opened the door with a schooled expression–none of the discomfort remained by the time Nahida reached him, “What is it?” He spoke plainly–but there was a certain breathiness to it, making it seem ever so softer.
“It’s…do you have any other family we could talk to? An aunt or uncle, maybe?” Nahida turned her attention to the two at the door–a young woman, and a young man in Liyuen garments, his black and red colors contrasting with the woman's white and teal.
“I…am not incapable of understanding you.” Haitham shifted on his feet, his hand gripping the door ever so slightly, “In any case, my parents were only children and have long since passed.” He shook his head, “Therefore, no uncles or aunts to my knowledge, but do feel free to correct me.”
He looked up at the two young adults with a sense of melancholy; his eyes had little light in them, as if he wanted to be wrong.
“Oh…” The young woman looked to her partner, then back at the boy before her, “Could we…come in? We promise not to linger beyond what is necessary.” She smiled gently, though it seemed not to affect Haitham in any way.
“If you see it as necessary, I suppose so.” He stepped to the side, letting them step into the home that seemed frozen in time, despite the memories being brought back to life.
This wasn't something a god could fix, though perhaps it wasn’t broken at all.
The young duo stepped inside with caution, as if it were a trap. Haitham shut the door and led them to a couch, “I read it is customary for food and drinks to be brought out. But I have not gone shopping, so if you could do without.” He sat across from them, looking between the two, waiting.
“Ah, don’t worry, we ate before we came here.” The man spoke up, a distinct accent being heard. Though it seems Haitham hadn’t noticed the lie in the man's words, Nahdia picked up on it swiftly.
Perhaps to comfort the child?
Haitham hummed, “I was not worried, as adults, it is expected that you care for yourselves.” He shook his head– “Though that is not always true. But you appear capable of such, forgive my assumptions.”
He…apologized?
Nahida frowned.
That was unlike–no. No assumptions.
She corrected herself swiftly, resuming her neutral stance.
“You are not wrong, but we have…a few matters to discuss, food would get in the way, as I’m sure you agree.” The woman smiled–a habit, it seems?
“Yes, food can often get in the way of productivity.” Haitham nodded, seemingly more intrigued to converse with the woman across from him, though he did not ignore the man; his attention was blatantly divided.
“We would like to start by asking what you will be doing, and then discuss arrangements and the like.” She looked to her partner, prompting his input, “Ah, it is our duty to make sure you are safe first and foremost. The arrangements won’t take long at all–depending on the requests, of course.” The man tilted his head, gesturing with his hands as he explained.
“Standard procedure after a family member passes, I understand.” Haitham stated, making Nahida–and the duo pause. Nahida turned her attention to the book on the table–Grief, Funeral, Loss, a guide and explanation to all that follows death.
…so that's why…
Nahida felt her heart grow heavy. But she persevered, as it was her responsibility to help her people and to understand them.
“You are quite mature for someone so young. I’m sure you hear that often, though.” The conversation continued behind her, and she listened, even as she couldn't look away from the book.
“No. Others tend to avoid me.” Haitham shrugged, leaning to grab a pen and a small journal off the table. “What are your names? I would like to note them down for later.”
The man spoke up first, “I am Hu Rong. I’m on a research trip, as recommended to me by my father.” Haitham hummed, writing down the information, unaware of the archon who moved to stand beside him, peeking into the journal.
His handwriting seems to have improved from the drawing she had seen earlier.
“And I am Sing-Chi, I recently graduated from the Akademiya, an Amurta scholar to be precise." Haitham nodded, writing it down swiftly and closing his journal.
“…I would like to learn the characters behind your names… when I am older, as I heard Liyue has a different way of writing.” The two smiled at him, and he smiled too, one that mimicked theirs, not entirely his own…
“We are here to make sure you are…safe, and capable of caring for yourself, as I’m sure you know.” Hu Rong spoke up, bringing the original topic back.
“Hmm…” Haitham crossed his arms, “...I would say I am capable of it. Anything I might need, I can learn from books.” He explained, remaining passive despite everything.
“Well, there will be routine check-ins to make sure you are alright…” Sing-Chi sighed, and so did Haitham.
“If I were to…let’s say…enroll in the akademiya, would I still receive check-ins?” He questioned, tilting his head to the side. “No, the check-ins are just a way to keep up with you. The Akademiya itself would suffice for that.”
Sing-Chi huffed, “The Akademiya isn’t the best place, though. They are so uptight.” Nahida giggled at her words before she noticed it wasn’t just her laughing.
Haitham was laughing.
Not much–barely anything–but he was.
“I had gone once, left the same day.” He looked…happy. “I wish I’d done that! All my peers were so…ughhhh!” Hu Rong placed a hand on her shoulder, seeming to bring her back into the present.
“I had planned to re-enroll myself for a while, and now seems like a good time.” Haitham let his small laughter fade into the background, returning to his neutral expression. “But…as for the arrangements..”
Sing-Chi and Hu Rong visibly tensed at that–as if expecting him to avoid the topic entirely. “I…want there to be flowers. Narcissus flowers…and Sawsan Faqqua flowers, to be specific.” Haitham mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper by the end of his sentence. “...and, could the burial take place… under a tree…”
He looked at them with the eyes of a boy left without direction. Which he was, in a way.
“Of course, wherever you’d like. We’ll handle the rest.” Hu Rong reassured, “Any request you make, we’ll fulfill to the best of our abilities.” Sing-Chi smiled, not one of joy, but of understanding.
Haitham nodded in his seat, “Then…I’ll write you a paper with the details.” He stood and walked to the door, “Expect to hear from me this week.” His neutral expression returned as he ushered the two funerary partners out with impatient goodbyes.
Time blurred once more, the space changing around the tiny god until she was in a familiar room, the first room she had spawned in.
Haitham was at a desk, writing on a piece of paper.
She walked over to him, looking at the crumbled, discarded papers across the desk…and the distressed boy in front of her.
Haitham had one hand in his hair, tugging at the roots while he wrote.
His hand remained steady on the paper, while the other trembled and pulled against his scalp.
Nahida wanted to help, but she could not interfere with the moments she had let pass by while in captivity.
She turned her attention to the paper, but the ink blurred, and she found herself at the next memory.
A funeral.
Haitham stood alone in a forest, staring blankly at the headstone before him. It was raining, as expected in a forest, but he brought no umbrella.
His clothes were drenched, his body twitched from the cold. But he didn’t move. Nahida stood beside him, looking up to see the boy’s face up close, and she found him in his own world.
Much like how she is now, he is not mentally present in reality at all. His physical form may be here, but his mind... was somewhere no god could go.
She waited patiently beside him. Even when she felt the effects of remaining immersed in a memory for so long, phantom sensations of rain and the wet grass below her feet. She stayed, she waited with him.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but then Haitham moved. He knelt down onto the cold, unforgiving ground.
“I…I brought you your favorite flowers, Grandma…” He muttered, scattering seeds across the fresh grave, “They haven’t grown yet…so take care of them, alright?”
Like you took care of me, so you won’t be lonely. Echoed throughout the memory, signifying the ending of events.
But there had to be more.
Nahida teleported from the memory, right to the one after it.
The Akademiya.
She had thought this would have been the first place to play when she searched–but of course it wasn’t!
Alhaitham had enrolled and left the same day!
So Irminsul started the search from as soon as he enrolled–even if he left.
Nahida strolled through the Akademiya, trying to find the young one she had been accompanying. She found him in a corner of the library, far from the other students.
He seemed content where he was…happier. Nahida walked over, before she faltered–whispers. She turned her head to see a few students off to the side, muttering under their breath. But it echoes in the minds who hold the memory.
She heard them clear as day–“He acts like he is so different from us. Always starting fights with his seniors…” The students spoke with a venom that would certainly not be allowed today.
“I heard he made a junior cry and didn't even apologize!”
Nahida extended her reach, the faint mumbling from Haitham dividing her attention–“It’s not my fault. That senior was being reckless.”
His face twisted in irritation, hiding his expression in his book, “I-that kid even wasn’t crying because of me. He had gotten separated from his parents–I was just the only one who stopped to help him…”
Haitham had small tears in his eyes, frustration building up into something far greater than him. In the blink of an eye, Haitham struck out–he threw the book he held across the library, and stood.
He glared at the others, but anyone close enough could see the piling tears in those desolate eyes.
Not a word was uttered, but the scholars shut up, and Nahida trailed after him as he left, and for the first time, she heard Alhaitham complain.
Not about scholars–not about others–but about being misunderstood.
She had let the memory linger before it shifted once again.
Nahida looked around, as now they were in the forest… She stepped over some branches and found where the 'stage' began, a construction site?
She ducked under a beam, dodging people running around with supplies and tools.
Where was she?...
“What do you mean they cut costs? I–the building won’t stand without it!”
A familiar voice?
Nahida turned and saw a much younger Kaveh, his hair tied up in a bun, but it was really starting to fall out, some free strands reaching his waist, and he seemed to glow… not like an archon would, but like he reflected all the light poured onto him by the sun.
Hm, perhaps this is not the truth, but rather just perspective… and if that was true…then Alhaitham had a very colorful mind.
“The building will just collapse without the right material! Sure, it’s a bit pricey–but that cost means nothing compared to the cost of lives that will be taken when it falls!” Kaveh shouted, halting almost everyone who was hard at work on the buildings.
“This material is strong and budget-friendly; if it falls, then it’s your blueprint that's unstable.” A man who was barely taller than Kaveh crossed his arms, and Kaveh seemed to be ready to explode.
“My blueprints work with the material I planned for. Not for the material you want.” He huffed, trying and failing to catch his breath multiple times. “What do you know? Aren't you still just a student?”
The man stepped forward, and Kaveh stepped back, “I–”
Nahida could see the tears forming in those burning crimson eyes, “I just don’t see why you would do this–It could kill people!” The man grew closer, and Kaveh drew further back, until he turned into a full sprint away from him.
Nahida went with him, deciding that whatever nonsense that guy might spout was not worth her time.
She found Kaveh behind a pillar, angrily holding a blueprint with tears in his eyes.
He was mumbling under his breath, starting to tear at the blueprint until the paper finally gave and tore in half, but he didn't stop, not until he had nearly torn it beyond recognition.
“Senior Kaveh.”
Haitham stood in front of him, holding a small basket full of books and papers, “Was your plan rejected? If so, destroying it doesn't do any good; it’ll just end up as pollution.”
Kaveh didn’t look at him, continuing to stare at the torn paper on the ground, “...It wasn’t rejected. But it should have been.” Haitham set his basket down, taking a seat in front of Kaveh and puzzling the blueprint together again.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this building seems stable? With the right material, it could withstand most things.” He looked to his senior for an explanation, for knowledge.
“No, you’re right. With the right materials, with the ones I planned for… It would work.” Kaveh pointed to a pile of materials, “But, with those materials. It will fall in a month.”
His hand fell, defeated by his side. “If anyone gets caught in the crash, their blood will be on my hands.”
Haitham hummed, taking out a book from his basket, and a small paper, making Kaveh look up at him with a tilt of his head, “What are you doing?”
Silence.
“Hey? I know you can hear me.”
Nothing.
“Hello?”
Kaveh sniffled, a shaky chuckle leaving him as he wiped his tears with his sleeves, “You know, it’s really not polite to ignore your seniors…” Haitham looked up at him, “Mn. I know… but I think I have a solution to your problem, senior.”
He turned his book over, pointing to a section, “Here it says that, ‘If a student under the Akademiya is at all unsafe or unwilling to continue a project, their work must be forfeited and returned to them, unless explicitly stated otherwise, or compensation is given.” He closed the book, grabbing the piece of paper.
“So, if you bring it up with the sages, they are obligated to help you. Your plans won’t be used, and production will be halted. No blood will be shed.” He explained, writing it out on a piece of paper with each word spoken, “You can borrow my book if they don’t listen.” Haitham handed him the tiny paper.
“I–thank you…and I hate to have to ask…but what’s your name?..” Kaveh took the paper gently, as if it was something fragile, “I’m Alhaitham, a Haravtat student, second year.”
He stood up, taking the torn-up blueprints and putting them in his basket before helping Kaveh up. “If you need these blueprints, you can ask me…but I’d like to keep them for now.”
Kaveh shook his head, “No, I won’t be needing them, not in that sorry state at least.” Haitham nodded, turning away from Kaveh and walking off.
So that’s how they met?... Nahida hummed, watching the memory shift around her until it settled back into the Akademiya once more.
“Alhaitham! Hey!” Kaveh ran across the scene, stumbling right into the little scholar, “Senior Kaveh, is everything alright?” Haitham helped him to stand properly, a small book tucked in his arm.
“Yeah! The sages helped me and–oh, archons, I’m out of breath–they also canceled the project since it was deemed too dangerous!” Kaveh panted, placing a hand on his chest.
“I just wanted to thank you, I don’t think I would've been able to be an architect if my building failed like that…” He frowned, “If you ever need my help…I’ll drop whatever I’m doing to come to you. I do owe you after all.”
Haitham tilted his head, “It was only a coincidence? I had been looking into the rules and regulations for a project of my own.” He explained, showing him the large book he had picked up earlier–Language and how phrasing changes laws, contracts, intent, and more.
“Whoa…but regardless, you helped me, so I’ll help you! Juniors should rely on their Seniors, you know.” Kaveh placed his hands on his hips, “And frankly, you aren't at all like the rumors say. I’m curious about you, Alhaitham.”
Haitham's thoughts echoed throughout the memory.
Rumors again? Wonder what they came up with this time.
“If you are curious about things, maybe you should join Amurta or Spantamad.”
Kaveh chuckled, and the memory shifted once more.
Haitham stood knocking outside a room, cradling something in his arm, “Hm? Alhaitham?!” Haitham looked up at Kaveh, who stood frozen in front of him.
“Senior Kaveh…” He mumbled, “I uhm…some students locked me out of my dorm…” Kaveh ushered him inside, “Why were you even out so late?! It’s like–one in the morning!”
He shut the door, bringing a blanket for Haitham and sitting him down on his couch, “It’s quieter at night…so I sometimes read books at the Akademiya…” He held himself closer, “When I tried getting into my dorm, they uh…punched my side, said they were evicting me–which doesn't even make sense. They aren't landlords.” He shook his head, looking at Kaveh for an answer.
“Oh… Alhaitham, what else have they done?” Kaveh took his hand in his, tilting his head to see him even as he looked at his feet, “They’re the ones who make rumors about me...They typically leave me alone, so I didn't bother correcting them…”
Haitham fidgeted with Kaveh’s hand, “This is the first time they actually did anything to me.”
Alhaitham was bullied?
Nahida hummed, looking between the two students curiously.
And Kaveh did not look happy.
“It will be the last time too. Don’t you worry, your Senior is here to protect you!” Kaveh patted his head, and Haitham let him…
The memory faded, and Nahida waited for the next one.
They seemed happy, and like friends…
So what exactly happened to them?
She watched as a new room was formed, a room at the Akademiya without a doubt, and Kaveh stood at the end of a table, looking angry, and Haitham stood at the other end, looking…confused? Hurt?
“Buer.”
Hang on.
Just a little longer.
Kaveh had tears streaming down his face, and Haitham had a hand reaching out to him.
“Buer.”
I need to see what happened.
“Buer!”
Nahida blinked her eyes open, coming face to face with an irritated puppet, “Archons, I thought you’d just stay there forever.”
He threw his arms in the air, turning around dramatically, “It’s been hours. I have stuff to do, and you can’t sustain an Irminsul connection that long.” He looked at her from over his shoulder, “Did you get what you wanted? Because if not, then you just wasted both our time.”
Nahida shook her head, “I…I got enough, but I wish I got more.” She paced the room, turning to Novae, “Have you heard anything about Kaveh and Alhaitham? From the Akademiya?”
Whenever she investigated the Akademiya, everyone was on their best behavior, making it near impossible to truly learn anything. But he can gather information easily.
“Of course I have. They’re all anyone talks about. Especially their darshans.” Novae crossed his arms, looking down on her.
“What… happened to them?” Nahida mimicked his stance, looking up at him.
“They had a fight. Some dispute over a project. But rumors can’t be trusted; you have to go to the source.” He explained with a wave of his hand, “Now get out. I have work to do.”
Nahida nodded, letting her arms fall to her side as she walked away.
Was that truly it? A mere project broke them that badly?
She stepped into her own room, floating up into her hanging chair.
She was left with a lot of questions and no answers.