Chapter Text
The first time that Alhaitham came to the tavern, he stole Cyno’s wine. He took a large gulp and put the glass down. Kaveh and Tighnari blinked at him before looking at Cyno expectantly.
Cyno wasn’t entirely surprised, on account of Alhaitham being the person that he was. He moved his glass back and took an even larger gulp, maintaining pointed eye contact with Alhaitham.
“I thought it was Kaveh’s,” said Alhaitham, as if that explained anything.
“Hey! Why is it okay to drink my wine?”
“You tell me,” said Alhaitham.
Cyno frowned, because he wasn't aware that Alhaitham and Kaveh already knew each other. Tighnari gave a short laugh, leaning back in his chair.
“Boss,” Alhaitham called, putting his hand up. “This is good wine. Another round for the table, please.”
The bartender came to their table with a wine bottle, uncorked it, and filled everyone’s glasses. They looked at Alhaitham, who nodded, and left the half-full bottle on the table.
“Shall I get my own glass?” Alhaitham asked.
Cyno said, unimpressed, “Do as you want.” Like you always do.
Alhaitham slid the glass back towards Cyno. “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“The wine.”
Cyno swilled the glass in a circle, then carefully sipped, holding the wine in his mouth before swallowing. “My verdict is, it tastes… erudite. Like it's been reading a lot of books.”
Tighnari’s mouth was suddenly very flat.
“Get it?” Cyno said. He was about to further explain that he meant “well, red,” when Alhaitham chuckled.
Tighnari’s mouth unflattened, and his eyes went wide. “I’m starting to think this was a mistake—” said Tighnari, shooting Kaveh a look.
“This was a big mistake,” moaned Kaveh. He flopped his head on the table, even though Cyno was pretty sure he wasn’t drunk yet. Before Alhaitham had arrived, Kaveh had been filling them in quite coherently, if morosely, on the project he’d been working on in the desert for the last year. He’d just gotten back to Sumeru City.
“Are they always like this?” Alhaitham asked in Cyno’s direction.
“Stay and find out,” said Cyno, pushing the glass back to him. The chuckle had earned it.
They had run into each other at the Akademiya several times in the last few months, each time ignoring each other exactly the way they had before they saved the world together. Last week, when Cyno told Tighnari about their latest non-encounter, Tighnari had crinkled his nose, sighed, and suggested asking Alhaitham to their usual Friday night hangout at Lambad’s. “It’ll make things less awkward between you two,” he had said. Cyno hadn't been so sure, but he'd done it.
Now, Cyno thought that maybe inviting Alhaitham had been the right thing to do. Just this once.
Alhaitham took another silent sip. He seemed to be thinking about something.
“So, did you show up because you finally decided to develop a conscience?” said Kaveh. Cyno stared at him, because that was a totally crazy thing to say out of nowhere.
“Be more specific,” said Alhaitham.
“What I’m saying is, don’t you feel any kind of moral responsibility?” said Kaveh.
Alhaitham replied, “In general, or as the Acting Grand Sage?”
Kaveh groaned. “I already know the answer to the first.”
“Then you have your answer to the second, because the first is a broader parameter.”
Kaveh pressed the palms of his hands to his forehead. “Why did I bother asking,” he said.
Alhaitham continued, “What if I told you that I intend to step down as soon as possible? Then the question of my morality or lack thereof will be moot. Would that satisfy you?”
“You want to step down?” said Cyno, while also reconsidering whether inviting Alhaitham had been a mistake. Kaveh certainly seemed to dislike him.
Alhaitham swiveled as if he had just remembered that Cyno was there. “Yes, I do. Does that surprise you?”
“Yes,” said Cyno, then he added, “No.”
“How interesting,” said Alhaitham.
You think I'm interesting? Cyno didn’t say.
“Why do you plan on stepping down?” Tighnari asked, leaning back in his chair again.
“It’s not the job that I signed up for. I agreed to become the Acting Grand Sage as a favor, but I had no intention of staying long-term.”
Cyno frowned, crossing his arms.
“What?” Tighnari said.
“Well,” Cyno said, pausing. “Things are running more smoothly than they were before. Paperwork is in order. It is reassuring to know that there’s a lack of corruption at the top, after the fiasco with the last Grand Sage. From my perspective, it would be a loss if you leave.”
Alhaitham’s eyebrows drew together. “I hadn’t realized you felt that way.”
“Oh, so when he says something you’ll consider it, but not me?” said Kaveh.
“I’m not considering anything. I still fully intend to resign.” Alhaitham’s furrowed brow was slowly relaxing back into its usual place.
The tavern was its usual level of busy tonight, with pieces of other conversations drifting over and passing them by. Cyno almost reached for his glass, to have something to do, but Alhaitham was currently fingering it. The one waiter of the night was making the rounds upstairs, so it would be a while before they came back to the table.
“I’m going to get a drink at the bar,” said Cyno, standing. “And maybe some fish rolls. Anyone need anything?”
Kaveh stared mournfully at his already-empty wine glass.
Tighnari stood as well. “Want another?” He asked Kaveh, who nodded gratefully.
Cyno and Tighnari put in their order with Lambad at the counter.
“I didn’t realize they knew each other,” said Tighnari, while they waited for their fish rolls, which were always made-to-order.
“Do they?” Cyno wondered.
“They have to. There’s no way you talk like that to someone you don’t know.”
Over at the table, Kaveh was gesticulating wildly, while Alhaitham had both his elbows on the table, leaning forward at a steep angle.
Cyno thought back. He had known Kaveh for years; whenever he was in town, he came to the tavern with him and Tighnari. But he had never mentioned Alhaitham’s name before, although… “Do you remember Kaveh ever talking about his roommate?”
“Yes, once he gets going, there’s no stopping him. I had him over to my place with Collei one time, and I swear he spent the whole time ranting about this roommate. But he's never told me who it is.”
Cyno watched Kaveh point his index finger at Alhaitham, who rolled his eyes.
“Before Alhaitham got here tonight, Kaveh said he didn’t understand why his roommate had been promoted,” said Cyno, sifting through the evidence.
“Yeah, and why would you live with someone if you hated the idea of their success that much? Oh. You don’t think…” said Tighnari.
“But I’ve never heard Alhaitham mention anyone,” said Cyno. “Not that I—”
“Talk to Alhaitham?” Tighnari chuckled. “Who does?”
“Kaveh, apparently.” Cyno kept watching the table.
“Here you go,” Lambad said, presenting them with a plate of hot, crispy fish rolls. “Talking ‘bout those two? Used to see them here all the time. Nice to see them back.”
Cyno blinked at him. “How long ago?”
“Lemme see…Five years? Ten? Who knows… Things change and they don’t, you know.” Lambad said before disappearing back to the kitchen.
The fish rolls wafted a delicious steam into Cyno’s face.
Tighnari shrugged. “He could be mistaken.”
“Lambad has a good memory. He’s helped out on a few cases.”
Tighnari started to shrug, but he didn’t finish the movement. He looked back at the table, his gaze fixing there. “Then… wow. Five years is a long time.”
“Yeah. That’s when we met Kaveh.”
“Should we bring it up?”
“Dunno.” Cyno picked up the fish rolls. “Don’t want these to get cold.”
Tighnari carried the drinks, and they went back. Cyno placed the rolls in the middle of the table. He was disappointed that they did not receive the reaction he had hoped for, but Kaveh and Alhaitham were deep in the middle of an argument.
“Think about what you could do for Sumeru,” Kaveh was saying. “I would’ve thought that someone like you would love to have all that power! You could control everything, and there would be endless resources for your research.”
“Power for its own sake is not one of my objectives. I already have the resources I need for my research. I don’t want or need to be in a position of authority,” said Alhaitham. His posture was still tilted in Kaveh’s direction. And even though it was Alhaitham that was talking, and Kaveh that he was talking to, Cyno’s chest tightened.
“And I do?” said Cyno.
Only Alhaitham’s eyes moved, sliding over to Cyno. “I certainly wasn’t implying that.”
“The circumstances under which you both ascended to your respective positions are entirely different,” added Tighnari. It felt like he was saying it for Cyno’s benefit.
“They’re not, though,” said Cyno, slowly. “I never asked to become the General Mahamatra. The same way that he didn’t try to become the Acting Grand Sage. It was just thrust upon me. And I accepted.”
“If you’re not enjoying it,” said Alhaitham, “Then you should resign too.”
Now that was absurd. Cyno had never heard anything like that before in his life.
“Resign?” said Cyno. Tighnari was watching him carefully.
“I believe you know what the word means,” said Alhaitham.
Kaveh said, “You can't just tell people to resign. Unlike you, Cyno likes his job, and it's perfect for him, being interested in justice and lofty ideals. You know, things you wouldn't know about.”
Cyno had liked his job the last time he talked to Kaveh about it, which had been before the Dendro Archon was kidnapped, and before he learned he was so predictable that his actions could be extrapolated by the Akasha and manipulated to install a terrible mechanical god. Before he learned that the Akademiya that he had tirelessly worked to uphold was overrun by corruption so omnipresent and iniquitous that it almost destroyed Sumeru.
And it would have, too, if not for the better judgement of other people. Like Alhaitham.
“I'm not telling anyone to do anything,” said Alhaitham.
Under his breath, Kaveh said, “That's a first.”
“What would I do instead?” said Cyno.
“You could try being happy,” Tighnari said. “Or having fun.”
“I have fun,” said Cyno, giving Tighnari a deadpan stare to show how serious he was.
“There isn’t a position in the Akademiya that I would want besides Scribe,” said Alhaitham. “I still wouldn’t describe that as ‘fun.’ And I find it hard to believe that you find my position on the matter difficult to follow, given that we both know you’d make the same choice to resign if you were in my shoes.” This last part was directed at Kaveh.
Kaveh had an incredulous look on his face. He picked up his wine glass and took a swig. “Well, yes, I wouldn’t want to be the Grand Sage—”
“Acting Grand Sage,” said Alhaitham.
“—the Grand Sage either, but my reasons for resigning would ultimately be different! I’d be doing it because I care too much, not because I don’t care!”
“If it’s the caring that you care about, what if I resign, but I care? As opposed to staying, but without caring?”
Kaveh opened his mouth, then he closed it. This repeated. “So you’re saying you care?”
Alhaitham didn’t say anything.
“Is this what you two talk about at home?” Tighnari said in a practical tone.
Kaveh’s jaw dropped, and his eyes went huge. “Did you—” His hair whipped across his face as he looked at Alhaitham with horror.
Alhaitham snorted, folding his arms. “As if.”
“How long have you two…” said Cyno.
“Not long,” said Kaveh quickly, while Alhaitham said, “A few years.”
Cyno had met Kaveh and Alhaitham under very different circumstances. They were very different people, but Cyno had never seen either of them act like this before. Kaveh’s dramatic rants and existential dread were typical, except they had a very particular slant towards Alhaitham today. And Alhaitham actually seemed ruffled, while Cyno knew him as disengaged and imperturbable. He didn’t know what to make of it.
“Oh,” said Tighnari. “What’s that like, living together?”
“Barely tolerable,” said Kaveh, leaning back and looking at the ceiling.
“Infuriating,” said Alhaitham, looking at the pillar in the middle of the room.
Cyno didn't see what was so interesting about either the ceiling or the pillar. “This reminds me of a story,” he said. “Listen up. There were two matra who were roommates. They were both very messy, and they hated cleaning up after themselves, so they made an agreement to divide all their chores. One would clean the kitchen, and the other would clean the living room. This worked, but their bedrooms were still a mess. There’s something different about cleaning your own room versus someone else’s. So, they agreed that they would clean each other’s rooms. A month later, their apartment was in a much better state.” He paused for dramatic effect. “You could say that they were made for each other.”
Now all three pairs of eyes were on him, but no one moved a hair.
“They were maid for each other,” Cyno repeated.
Alhaitham coughed and took a long drink from his water glass. The glass distorted the shape of his mouth, making it look like he was smiling slightly.
“We are absolutely not made for each other,” said Kaveh, scratching his head. “So… will you guys keep this a secret? I swear I'll die if anyone else finds out, you know.”
“I understand the joke,” Alhaitham said.
“How did this happen?” Tighnari asked.
“That’s a story for another day and a lot more wine,” said Kaveh, though he shot a worried look at Alhaitham. “And… maybe a more private space.”
“I have nothing to say on the matter,” said Alhaitham.
Kaveh’s shoulders relaxed. Cyno wasn’t sure what was so bad about other people knowing that they lived together, but so be it. It was weird, but weirder things had happened recently. Hopefully, Alhaitham intended to fill Kaveh in on what happened with the Dendro Archon and the Akademiya in his absence.
“More fish rolls?” said Tighnari. “Or should we call it a night.”
Kaveh groaned. “More like more wine.”
“Aren’t you meeting a client in the morning?” said Alhaitham.
Kaveh rolled his eyes, but he stood up. “Ugh, yes. Not that I need you to remind me about it or anything.”
“Don’t wait up,” said Alhaitham, narrowing his eyes.
“I won’t,” said Kaveh as he left.
In the silence that followed, Cyno took the last fish roll, and Alhaitham finished the last of Cyno's wine.
“Honestly, it’s getting late,” said Tighnari. “I need to be on my way, too. Did you want to come to Gandharva Ville this weekend, Cyno?”
Cyno glanced at Alhaitham. “I have an investigation.”
“You always have an investigation,” said Tighnari, sighing. “Then next week, here?”
“Yeah,” said Cyno. He glanced at Alhaitham again. “Will you come?”
“You’re here every Friday?”
“Most of the time.”
“I’ll try to make it,” said Alhaitham. His thumb and index finger made a perfect circle around the base of the wine glass. “I liked the fish rolls.”
The next week, Alhaitham came again, and he was late again, sliding into a chair without going up to the bar to order a drink. Cyno looked at him warily, drawing his glass closer.
Having already downed a few glasses of wine, Kaveh was in the middle of a diatribe about a client.
“—Idiosyncratic, inconsiderate overlords that change their minds every day! After I relented on the magnetic magenta, which nearly broke my artistic soul, they said scrap all of that, change the doorknobs to carrot orange. Carrot orange! I’ll have to redo every single interior and exterior color scheme and create an all-new blistering eyesore.”
Sitting this close, Cyno couldn’t help but notice that Alhaitham’s eyes had a bit of carrot orange in them.
“What you need is a rich benefactor,” said Tighnari.
“That would truly solve all my problems! But there isn’t a single soul in all of Sumeru that cares about the art in the word ‘architecture.’”
“If you skip a few letters,” Alhaitham said under his breath. Cyno pressed his lips together carefully so he didn’t smile.
Kaveh said, “I should have been born in Fontaine, or Liyue. Imagine the immaculate domes of stained glass I could have built overlooking the aqueduct transport system. Or the neatly curved rooftops with statues in the elegant shapes of adepti!”
“There are Akademiya scholars who work abroad,” Cyno offered.
“Sounds like a great idea,” said Alhaitham. “I’ll have the house all to myself.”
Kaveh frowned. “Now, hold on just a moment—”
“Hey, fancy seeing you all here,” cut in a familiar voice.
Cyno turned and saw Dehya and Dunyarzad, and a rush of nostalgia swept over him.
How long had it been? Surely not since the victory feast, after they rescued Lesser Lord Kusanali?
Dehya snagged an empty chair from another table, motioning Dunyarzad to have a seat; luckily, there was room at the table. “Hey, y’all. Catch up, I’ll get our drinks.”
Dunyarzad sat neatly and folded her hands in her lap. She looked much more energetic than the last time Cyno had seen her. Not as energetic as Dehya, but no one was.
Tighnari said, “It is great to see both of you. What were you doing in the city?”
“Enrollment paperwork for the Akademiya,” said Dunyarzad. “Dehya insisted on accompanying me to the registrar today, but there were so many forms I hadn’t known about. Then I ran late and couldn’t finish before they closed, so I went home to work on it. I only just finished, so Dehya wanted to go out to celebrate.”
Kaveh groaned. “Paperwork is the bane of my existence, unlike some people. Have you got any thoughts on which Darshan you want to join? Despite its flaws, I hope you choose Ksharewar.”
Tighnari said, “Dunyarzad is much too sensible to pick Ksharewar. I hope she’s thinking about joining the ranks of Amurta.”
Cyno said, “If we’re talking sensibility, then Spantamad is the clear winner. Just like the Extravaganza, which we’ve won more than any other Darshan.”
Tighnari leaned in. “Well, Amurta is the most relaxed. It’s easy to find an assignment anywhere in the rainforest once you graduate, and you don’t need to stay bound to the Akademiya forever. And we’re the largest Darshan, so there’s always good company.”
Cyno leaned in, too. “Spantamad has the most decorated and accomplished members. If you care about success, you’ll find strong mentors with us.”
“None of that matters, Ksharewar throws the best parties,” said Kaveh, leaning in most of all. “Have you ever experienced a self-pouring wine machine?”
Dunyarzad looked back and forth between them, a smile budding on her lips.
Darshan rivalries were legendary, and verbal sparring about which one was the best was an Akademiya pastime, so this continued until, at last, the three of them exhausted their various arguments.
“And you?” said Tighnari to Alhaitham, who hadn’t spoken a word.
Alhaitham folded his arms and smiled smugly.
“You think your Darshan speaks for itself?” said Cyno.
“No. I know Dunyarzad won't join Haravatat.”
“What is this, reverse psychology?” said Kaveh.
“No. I simply believe I’d be wasting my breath. I suspect her interests lie in other areas.”
Returning from the bar, Dehya placed a glass of wine in front of Dunyarzad. Dunyarzad looked around for another chair, but Dehya waved her hand.
“I’ll stand,” said Dehya, putting a hand on the back of Dunyarzad’s chair and leaning her weight on one hip.
“We were just talking about which Darshan Dunyarzad will join,” said Tighnari, “And why it’s Amurta.”
“Or Spantamad,” said Cyno.
“Ksharewar.”
Dunyarzad spread her hands. “Well, I read the descriptions of each Darshan thoroughly, and talked to scholars from each. To be honest, there wasn’t a precise fit for my interests, but I’m starting to become interested in the one that came closest, which happens to be Rtawahist…”
Everyone except Dehya groaned.
“Rtawahist?” said Tighnari skeptically.
Dehya clapped an arm over Dunyarzad’s shoulders and grinned. “If Dunyarzad’s joining it, it’s gonna be the best one.”
Dunyarzad smiled, but her announcement put an end to their attempts to promote their Darshans.
Kaveh held out his hand. “I’m Kaveh, by the way.”
“Dunyarzad. Pleased to meet you. And this is Dehya.”
“So you’re new to the Akademiya,” said Kaveh. “I can introduce you to—” He gestured to the rest of them.
Dunyarzad smiled kindly. “We’ve met, actually.”
They all nodded. Flummoxed, Kaveh said, “I—what. How does absolutely everyone but me know each other?”
Dehya gestured with her wine glass, narrowly avoiding a spill. “We go way back, saved the world together, you know, good shit.”
“Riiiiight,” said Kaveh. “Well, it’s fine if it would take too long to explain.”
“Oh, I thought Alhaitham would have told you since last week,” said Tighnari, glancing at Cyno, who had already made a mental note to fill Kaveh in before the weekend was over.
Kaveh snorted. “As if. Alhaitham never tells me anything, I swear.”
Alhaitham, who was sitting right next to him, didn't dispute this.
“But they really did risk their lives to save everyone,” said Dunyarzad earnestly, and Dehya told her, “You did too.” Dunyarzad shook her head.
“You did?” said Kaveh. Alhaitham made the smallest shrug, and Kaveh frowned, saying, “That doesn’t sound like something you would do.”
“It was a selfish decision,” said Alhaitham. “Does that help?”
“Selfish?” Cyno said with disbelief. “You could have been seriously injured.”
Alhaitham sighed. “I had realized that Azar was planning something for a while, but I only chose to intervene once I knew enough to understand that if he succeeded, it would permanently ruin my ability to live the peaceful life I wanted. Under that set of conditions, it became acceptable to risk my life for the cause.”
“I…” Cyno was at a loss for words. “I don’t know that I understand.”
“Makes sense to me,” said Tighnari. “Wow, it does sound selfish when you put it like that.”
“Yeah, but if you’d intervened when you first got a whiff of something fishy, you might not have needed to risk your life at all,” Dehya said, idly swirling her wine.
Alhaitham’s drink was on the way to his mouth when his hand stalled as if suspended in time. He blinked several times. “Alright. Point taken.”
Cyno never hesitated or felt fear when risking his life, not when it was the right thing to do. It hadn’t occurred to him that Alhaitham, or anyone, approached things differently.
“Oh, and if there’s any way you can streamline the paperwork system, Grand Sage,” Dehya said. “Enrolling in the Akademiya is punishment enough, no reason to be tortured before you’re even accepted!”
“Acting Grand Sage. I’ll take your suggestion under consideration.” Alhaitham was still blinking quite a lot, but his expression was so flat that Cyno couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic.
“So Dunyarzad, what are your research interests?” Tighnari asked. “The ones you said don’t fit.”
“I want to research the Dendro Archon,” said Dunyarzad, looking thoughtful. “But the mythos around her most of all. There are so many stories, like those about her and the Goddess of Flowers, or King Deshret, other mysterious figures shrouded in her past. I suspect that investigating what is myth and fact will be part of the same process. But despite these stories’ ubiquity, I cannot find any previous scholarship in this area to lead the way.”
“Yes, this area is lacking in historical research,” said Alhaitham immediately. “But as for methodology, I wonder whether Rtawahist truly fits. It is difficult to ascertain when their practices are obscured to those on the outside.”
Dunyarzad nodded. “The Akademiya has limitations.”
“But certainly, there must be room for your interest area,” said Cyno.
Despite his recent experiences, the Akademiya was still a place for growth. It had gone the wrong direction in the recent past, and it had its barriers and its processes and its rules, but that was for the benefit of scholars. As the General Mahamatra, he had faith in its fundamental structure. He worried, though: was that one hundred percent predictable of him?
Dunyarzad smiled. “I certainly hope so.”
A raucous laughter erupted from another table, who were clearly having a better time than they were.
“The pours are so stingy here,” complained Dehya, waving her empty glass in the air. “I’m switching to beer. Anyone else?”
Alhaitham had yet to buy a drink, so he went with her.
Kaveh began telling a story about a failed collaboration he’d had with a Rtawahist scholar. It was a funny story, but Cyno had heard him tell it before, so he half-listened, mostly for Dunyarzad’s amused reactions.
Cyno was surprised to see Alhatham and Dehya talking quite a bit at the bar. Specifically, it surprised him that Alhaitham was talking so much. He had one hand on his hip, gesturing with the other, and he looked very serious, though not more than usual. Dehya threw her head back and laughed for a solid time. She shook her head rapidly. Alhaitham shrugged.
Cyno refocused on Kaveh as he hit the punchline, which caused Dunyarzad to almost double over laughing. Even Tighnari was smirking, and Cyno found himself letting out a chuckle.
“I will keep this in mind about Rtawahist,” Dunyarzad said, wiping her eyes. “Thank you for sharing.”
Returning from the bar, Dehya put a mug of beer and a glass of water on the table in front of Dunyarzad. “What’s so funny?”
“I’ll have to tell you later,” Dunyarzad said, and Dehya smiled. Then she made eye contact with Cyno, jerking her head to the right.
Cyno suddenly realized that Alhaitham was standing next to him. He was holding out his hand to Cyno. Said hand was holding a drink.
“I noticed you were out,” said Alhaitham.
“Thanks,” said Cyno, reacting very slowly as he took the drink. He wondered what Dehya and Alhaitham had talked about. He couldn’t imagine Alhaitham being as funny as Kaveh, but Dehya had laughed pretty hard.
“What about you, Dehya? What have you been up to?” Tighnari asked.
“Back to business as usual. Got a big transport job, but it’s shaping up to be a nightmare. We have to go the long way around the fucking Wall of Samiel,” said Dehya. “With all the Akademiya’s power, why can’t they do something about that? If there ever was an area that needed more research, you know. I swear that wall is the bane of my existence. It’s like a reminder that they’re trying to keep us out at all costs.”
“I only wish that I had strengths in a relevant area,” Dunyarzad said, mostly to Dehya. “If I could research it, I would.”
“Hey,” Dehya said, squeezing her shoulder. “We’ve talked about this. It’s not up to one person to fix. And you know, there’s a difference between research and action, anyway.”
Tighnari hummed in commiseration. “Yeah, it sucks. I remember it being a taboo topic during school. People wouldn’t even talk about it. Although it’s been so long since I was directly involved in Akademiya research that maybe something has changed.”
“I don’t think it has, because of the strict prohibition on anything related to weather tampering,” said Cyno. “Which is the only way that anyone can think of, because the wall prevents the sandstorm from wrecking the land.”
“On this side,” said Dehya, making a face.
“You’re completely right,” said Tighnari, and Cyno nodded, because she was. Unfortunately, the wall was an immovable problem.
Alhaitham took a long sip from his drink. “If you’re going to say something then say it, Kaveh.”
Kaveh shot him a dirty look. “Fine. All I was going to say is that there is one person at this table who can do something.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Something. Anything! Create, like, a task force or something!”
“I don’t think more bureaucracy would help,” said Tighnari.
“Only if they told me I could personally blast it down,” said Dehya.
Kaveh ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “There has to be something.”
Alhaitham set his drink down. “Well, when you find this ‘something’ that has stymied scholars for generations, let me know. I’m open to suggestions. Reasonable ones.”
“Reason is overrated,” said Kaveh, flapping his hand.
“On the contrary.”
“Then explain your reasoning behind leaving food in the fridge until it turns fluorescent shades of turquoise—"
“A habitual pattern cannot be inferred from a two-time occurrence—”
Dehya laughed. “I like you, Kaveh. We gotta go after this drink, but do y’all hang out here every week?”
“Every week,” said Kaveh. “For some reason.”
Tighnari smiled. “You two should come again. It’s been far too long.”
“I’ve got that job, but I’ll come back. Oh, that reminds me—Candace will be here in a few weeks to negotiate with some merchants. I’ll tell her to meet up with you if that sounds good.”
“Absolutely,” Tighnari said quickly.
“That sounds great,” Cyno said, glancing at Tighnari. Alhaitham nodded.
Looking around at the mention of another name he didn't know, Kaveh, always a good sport, threw up his hands and said, “Of course! The more the merrier.”
In a few weeks, Candace did indeed come to the tavern.
“I’m sorry,” Tighnari said. “This must be very tedious to listen to. We can talk about something else.”
Once again, they were discussing the soon-to-be-vacant position of the Grand Sage. Cyno was still concerned about it, Alhaitham was still seemingly unconcerned, and Kaveh and Tighnari were still somewhere in between.
“The Akademiya is a pointless venture and I have no hope of it ever improving in the slightest,” Candace said calmly, curling her hands around her coffee cup. “...is what I would say if I were Dehya. No, as the person who manages a village which has become progressively more intertwined with the Akademiya, I have a vested interest in its future, including its future leadership. Tell me, how was the Grand Sage chosen in the past?”
Alhaitham said, “Traditionally, the Grand Sage was chosen from among the Six Great Sages that represent the Darshans. However, there are only two sages right now, because the other four were arrested, as you know. That said, we could continue this tradition in theory.”
“I think that Naphis would do a good job,” said Tighnari. “If you could get him to take it, which is unlikely.”
Cyno said, “You don’t think his temper would be a problem?”
“There’s that,” Tighnari said. “But he’s better than the other sage, from what I’ve heard about the Vahumana guy.”
“Why?” asked Candace.
“He’s unlikeable. He’s taciturn and unwilling to work with others, and mostly interested in his own research.”
Cyno couldn’t help glancing at Alhaitham.
Leaning forward, Candace said, “Now that brings up an interesting question. How likeable does a leader need to be to effectively rule?”
“Very,” said Kaveh.
“Really?” Tighnari said. “I was about to say, very little. I’d much prefer an effective Grand Sage with a bad personality over a pleasant one that does nothing. As long as I don’t personally have to interact with them, which I don’t. Uh, no offense.”
Alhaitham raised his eyebrows, but he said, “None taken.”
“You propose a false binary,” said Kaveh. “A great leader needs to be able to inspire and motivate many people. If they’re annoying or rude, at the end of the day, people won’t want to do what they say, no matter how much sense it makes.”
Candace pressed him. “But does likability beget inspiration? Or is it some other quality?”
“Well,” said Kaveh, considering. “I think it’s part of it, but not the whole story. I suppose it’s being able to have a compelling vision of the future, and being well-spoken enough to communicate it.”
“What do you think, Cyno?” asked Tighnari, trying to include him.
Cyno wasn’t sure what he thought, which was why he had been staying out of it. “I don’t know what’s best in general,” he said. “But to earn my loyalty, someone doesn't need to be nice. They just need to be competent, and to have good intentions at heart.”
“Good intentions can only go so far,” Alhaitham said.
“That’s true, but… I guess what they believe in does matter to me,” said Cyno.
“Does it?” asked Alhaitham. “Or is it their actions that matter, from which you assume or extrapolate their beliefs?”
That stumped Cyno.
“But words can be a form of action,” said Candace. “A good speech can inspire action. And yet, words should not exist in a vacuum of inaction.”
Alhaitham’s mouth twitched, which was strange. “Sounds like you’d make a good Haravatat scholar.”
“I’ll pass,” Candace said coolly, which set Tighnari off giggling. “Then what Darshan?” Tighnari asked, once he stopped.
“I’m not familiar with most of them,” said Candace. “What do you think?”
“Not this again,” said Alhaitham, but his mouth had completely changed shape. It had the odd effect of making him look amused.
Cyno couldn’t resist. “Spantamad. You have elemental powers and Vision, so it’s only natural. Plus, we have the largest number of traveling scholars, so you could stay close to home after graduation.”
“Do you have an interest in technology?” Kaveh asked.
“No,” said Candace.
Tighnari had a funny look on his face. “Much as I’d like to suggest Amurta, I admit your argument for Spantamad is convincing, since your elemental control is exemplary. Not that I recommend anyone join the Akademiya.”
Cyno chuckled, because Tighnari could never speak of the Akademiya without putting it down. “Would you ever enroll, Candace?”
“I don’t think so. Having seen the difficulties that my villagers have experienced, and other scholars passing through the desert, it doesn’t seem like the place for me.”
“What difficulties?” asked Cyno, concerned. “Has the Akademiya reneged on their promise to do more outreach to the deserts?” He had heard that Lesser Lord Kusanali was supportive. That said, she was not the most connected to the Akademiya’s day-to-day, and she often found it difficult to think in concrete terms.
“No, they sent representatives who talked to quite a few villagers,” said Candace. “Many even left to try their luck as scholars, but some of them have already returned. It’s not surprising, is it? We’re talking about uprooting your life. Well, uprooting it and planting it in Sumeru City—for what? Being looked down on?”
Cyno was from the desert, but he had no more insight than Alhaitham or Kaveh when it came to the experiences of those who lived there, having spent his whole life with Sumeru City as his home base, Cyrus as his father. Listening to Candace, he could see how he had underestimated the difficulty—
“If I were the Grand Sage, I’d talk to people in person,” said Kaveh. “This is precisely what I mean about inspiration! You should go there to increase enrollment, Alhaitham.”
“That would likely have the opposite effect,” said Alhaitham flatly.
Cyno raised an eyebrow, still surprised whenever Alhaitham applied his usual brutal honesty to himself.
“Besides, it’s up to the individual,” Alhaitham added. “Which isn’t to say that the next Grand Sage won’t be instrumental in determining the Akademiya’s future efforts in this area.”
Candace’s sharp nails clicked on the table. “So we’re back to imagining a leader. I think a leader should have sufficient vision to inspire loyalty, but… they also can't be afraid to get their hands dirty. Even if that means making enemies along the way. And they must be an Akademiya insider who hails from Sumeru, right? The Grand Sage.”
“If they have to be liked,” Kaveh said. “Then yes, unfortunately. Most scholars would never truly accept someone who trained elsewhere.”
“Why not ask this Naphis, then?” said Candace, folding her hands.
“Could you talk to him?” Cyno asked Tighnari. If they were really going to lose Alhaitham—
“I could try,” said Tighnari, tilting his head. “He doesn’t listen to me, but if that’s what we think is best.”
Alhaitham sighed. “I’ll address it next week when I’m working. But you can talk to him if you want.”
Cyno was stuck on how Tighnari had said “we,” a word that Cyno hadn’t imagined as including Alhaitham. Yet Alhaitham had responded.
“At least I can tell my villagers that there’s some hope for the future, even if not immediate,” said Candace.
“Will everything be okay with them?” Tighnari asked. “The ones that are still here.”
“For now,” Candace said. “I would like to see my people have more support in the future, though.” She stood, neatly pushing her chair in. “I need to be up early tomorrow, so I’ll be heading back to my hotel.”
Tighnari said, “Oh, I’m leaving too. If you’re nearby, would you like me to walk you back?”
Cyno checked the time. It wasn’t late yet, because Candace hadn’t stayed long.
“I don’t need it, but I would take the company,” said Candace.
Tighnari stood so quickly that his chair wobbled.
Then there were three of them. After the lull expanded enough to make his next words sufficiently dramatic, Cyno announced, “It’s time.”
Kaveh hurriedly finished his drink. “That’s my cue,” he said, standing. “Have a good evening, think of me after I leave?” Then he was gone.
Cyno assessed Alhaitham’s total lack of reaction. “It’s time for me to put my cards on the table.”
“Is it?” said Alhaitham, raising an eyebrow.
Cyno reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck. “Genius Invokation TCG. You play?”
With the intensity of his gaze, Alhaitham’s eyes almost looked like they were glowing. “I can’t say I’ve done more than dabble. And I don't have a deck.”
Cyno reached into his other pocket and produced a second deck, slapping it on the table.
“Alright,” said Alhaitham, sighing. “If you teach me, I’ll play. But you’re getting the next round.”
Cyno slid the deck over. “You have yourself a deal. After you shuffle, of course.”
Once again, he had the odd pleasure of watching Alhaitham’s lips twitch.