Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The thick and dense Sumeru forests overflowed with the power of Dendro, its verdant expanse reaching out until the desert. Tall, towering trees that were centuries old had their roots engulfed underneath the soil in a mass of coil and overgrowth. Hidden within this sun-spotted understory were a myriad of ruins, ancient stone trapped within roots, and rocky cave entrances closed off by streams young and old. 

Alhaitham hiked through the forest floor, damp leaves crunching in soft whispers under his feet. With his research notes and map in hand, his eyes searched the landscape for the telltale creek below the sedimentary outcrop. 

The ruins of the Temple of Enki, as determined by Nahida, lay within this rock formation.

He’d been wandering through the area for a while now, the trickling sounds of water seemingly everywhere around him, but never drawing close. It was almost like he’d been walking in circles. Alhaitham paused with a sigh, coming to a stop by a vast, towering ficus, its aerial roots hanging in low, tangled clusters. Above him a langur scampered across the branches, dropping half-eaten fruit to the damp forest floor. 

According to his map, he was moving in the right direction and had been for the past half hour. Sweat beaded his neck as the humidity only increased with his movement.

That was when he heard the voice. 

“Is there anyone around here?” 

Alhaitham paused, frowning. This deep into the forest - with no clear path or trail, there shouldn’t have been anyone else besides him and the wildlife. He blinked, lowering his map to scan the overgrowth for the source of the voice. 

“Is somebody there?” 

The voice repeated. Alhaitham half-wondered if it was an effect similar to a mirage. It wouldn’t be uncommon where there were ruins nearby. Moreover, the rainforest was no less than a desert and the sensory overload was beginning to wear him down. The constant chirrup of insects, rustling of leaves, the stray calls of paired hornbills and worst of all; the humidity. Alhaitham could not imagine, who else in their right mind would be out here. 

Curious, he followed the voice, keeping a conscious eye on his compass. He was already somewhat lost and he could not afford to stray away any further. He pushed past clumps of flowering nightshade, the dew drops fluttering down the foliage. He crossed a fallen trunk, covered in shrooms and fern, and climbed over a slippery, moss-covered rock that came up to his waist. 

The sound of rushing water filled his ears again, louder this time and as he stepped forward it got louder still. 

“Is anybody here?” 

The voice was clearer now, a light timbre that danced through the sounds of the forest. Alhaitham slowed down, a sense of caution taking over him and he lurked behind the lichen-covered bark of a tree. In front of him was the creek he’d been looking for, its pebbled bank dotted with mossy rocks and bromeliads. And, on the other side of the shore was a man clad in delicate white robes with a red shawl draped across his shoulders. The man glanced to his left, crimson-red eyes trained on something far away up in the canopies, a rare breeze lifted his golden hair and it shone in the way that a stream would reflect the setting sun. 

“Here…” Alhaitham called out in a soft breath, drawing attention to his presence as he stepped out from behind the tree trunk. His eyes widened as the golden-haired man turned towards him, brows raised in surprise. 

A few feet away, further down the creek was the outcrop he’d been looking for, the entrance to the ruins of Enki; the divinity of the sweet spring waters that flowed through the land, filling the lush green with blooms of madder red and bathing the forest in soft morning dew. 

But before him stood a man even more beautiful than the crystal waters of Celestia’s boon. 

“Ah,” the man spoke, a soft smile pulling on his lips, “do you think you could help me out a bit?” 

---

Kaveh.

Alhaitham repeated the name in his mind, watching as the golden-haired man sat perched upon a dry rock beside the glittering waters of the creek. He held a thick paper nailed to a wooden board that rested on his lap. Beside him was a pan of coloured paints. The man held a thin brush in his fingers. Deep crimson eyes stared off into the forest and then gently, with a graceful dip of his long lashes, they turned down to the paper where he replicated the scene before him. 

Over the past ten days, Alhaitham learned many things about the man he’d stumbled across by the creek. His name was Kaveh, he was an architect, artist, and idealist, residing in one of the nearby villages. He was presently helping one of his friends by documenting some of the flora species of the rainforest through his paintings. However, his usual work involved intricate patterns and motifs - fractals of geometry and colour in architecture. 

Kaveh would be there by the creek with his paints and sheets whilst Alhaitham would stride off for a recon of the ruins - noting down the sigils and scripts. Usually, if it were anyone else, that would be it. Alhaitham would take down his notes, be done for the day, and then head back to his camp at a nearby clearing. But there was something about the golden-haired man, his sheets filled with delicate paintings of flowers, the trees and the pebbled banks of the creek. There was something in the way in which he would smile at Alhaitham when the latter arrived, offering him a cool drink of mint extract and orange blossom that he kept in a flask. They would talk - sometimes about Kaveh’s painting subject, and sometimes about what Alhaitham had deciphered about the ruins. Some evenings, just before the sun went down, they’d talk about themselves. Alhaitham found himself speaking of his grandmother fondly, and Kaveh would listen to him intently, nimble fingers occasionally tucking strands of his soft hair behind an ear where a deep blue feather quill sat, tucked within his braids. 

“How is your progress with the research?” 

Alhaitham snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at the man. His eyes were bright and inquisitive as they studied him, nodding at the papers in his lap. 

“The research is going well, although I am yet to explore the ruins fully - there is much more to be uncovered,” Alhaitham replied, shuffling the papers briefly. Nahida had tasked him with decoding the ruins, transcribing the stories they told and collecting the records that they held. While the ruins were largely known as those of ‘Enki’, Alhaitham had the sneaking suspicion that something was missing, the latter half of a story untold. In other words, Alhaitham was a little stuck. 

Kaveh smiled kindly, “Those patterns…” his ruby eyes flicked down to a few photographs pinned to Alhaitham’s pages, “They’re from today’s exploration?” 

Alhaitham glanced down at the black and white photographs taken with his Kamera, “They’re from today’s exploration, yes,” 

“Those motifs are usually used for Enki’s consort, Ninhursag” Kaveh mused, shuffling closer to where Alhaitham sat on their shared mat, “Hmm… is it from one of the lesser shrines in the ruins?” Kaveh’s eyes shone with an interest and curiosity that Alhaitham found hard to deny. 

“The ruins are primarily dedicated to Enki,” Alhaitham replied, studying the photographs himself, “At least that is what the inscriptions say,” 

“Hmm,” Kaveh studied the photographs, brows drawn together, “Maybe there is more to be discerned from the patterns,” 

Alhaitham watched, mesmerised as Kaveh set aside his paper and paintbrush, fingers brushing over the copied symbols from the ruin. 

Kaveh was extremely knowledgeable. Alhaitham could tell even though they had met hardly a few days ago. Though his studies were a far cry from Alhaitham’s expertise in language; when they discussed the ruins of Enki, Alhaitham saw their worlds combine, as if the golden-haired architect had only made him whole. It was this blindingly stark contrast; in Kaveh’s penchant for compassion and kindness, the value he placed on beauty and aesthetics, versus Alhaitham’s own roots in rationality. He was seeing the world reflected in a different pair of eyes, and somehow the view was more colourful. 

He wondered if Kaveh felt the same way.

“Ninhursag is of the Sacred Mountain, and..” Kaveh began, eyes raised towards the outcrop over the ruins, the topography of the land had no doubt worn down over the many years, and what could have once been a mountain was now reduced to a simple rock formation. 

“And Enki, Ea , the Spring of Life,” Alhaitham continued. Suddenly, his reading of the ruins became far more clear as he saw the stone reflected in the waters.

Kaveh turned towards him, eyes shining with eagerness, “This makes much more sense doesn’t it?” He pointed at a few other photographs that Alhaitham had taken,

“It does,” he mused thoughtfully, 

“We can decipher it together then!” Kaveh leaned over his shoulder to get a better look at the patterns. Strands of his hair fell forward, brushing against Alhaitham’s chin. The scent of citrus oil and magnolia with a hint of amber drifted into his senses; it was sweet and warm. 

His voice dropped low, enraptured by the photographs and documents from Alhaitham’s research. 

“I know this forest well, but I’d never thought that there would be ruins of such an interest here,” Kaveh whispered in amazement. He crouched beside Alhaitham on the mat, “I spent years studying patterns in the ruins,” he said, almost wistfully.

“In the ruins? You were a scholar then,” 

Kaveh nodded, “For a while. Even my parents were scholars, my mother studied the ruins and other areas similar to this,”

The fact that he didn’t elaborate on his father was not lost on Alhaitham, nor was the sudden shift in Kaveh’s expression. The amber glow of his eyes had grown dull, heavy with a deep guilt that weighed down on his voice. But still, Alhaitham yearned to know - not for the sake of truth, but rather for the sake of understanding the architect better. “This is the first time you are mentioning your parents,” he stated, leaving his curiosity to hang silently in the air.  

Kaveh turned towards him, almond eyes peering straight into Alhaitham’s thin, slanted ones as if he were determining how to respond. “The memories aren’t too pleasant,” he said, “But they were great parents.” 

The architect returned his attention to the photographs, fingers fiddling over the edges of the paper. “Anyway, the research should be easier now that you know there are two deities involved,” Kaveh drew away, slender fingers retreating to his paintbrush, his excitement over deciphering the patterns forgotten altogether.“By the way, I should tell you that I am returning to the city tomorrow,” he said with a soft, apologetic smile. 

Tomorrow. It was too soon for Alhaitham, and too little time spent with the architect. Yet, he nodded in understanding, “Tomorrow I will be wrapping up the work for the first part of my report. The day after, I will be briefly dropping into the city as well, to discuss my progress with Nahida,” he said. 

“I see,” Kaveh brightened with relief, “We will meet at Sumeru City then,” 

The next day Alhaitham took the same route through the forest, stopping by the creek out of sheer habit instead of continuing on the path to the ruins. The spot that they’d usually occupy was underneath the rosewood tree by the lichen-covered rock. The ground was well worn, and by the patch of fern that Kaveh usually sat nearby, sprouted a single yellow narcissus bud. 

--- 

In the warm lights and stained glass reflections of the Sanctuary of Surasthana, time crawled exceedingly slowly. Especially now, as Alhaitham sat before Nahida whilst she read through his report. The distant sounds of birds in the branches above filtered through the glass dome, spots of sunlight gliding across the marbled floors. A steaming cup of cinnamon and star anise tea sat beside him, the tendrils warming the cool air around him. Alhaitham sighed softly, allowing himself to relax after the journey from the Gandharva forests to the city. 

He was satisfied with his progress in deciphering the ruins and easily managed to come across a few cross-references for sections with patterns and iconography associated with the second deity, Ninhursag. 

“This is quite a brilliant discovery, Alhaitham,” Nahida said, finally raising her eyes from the papers. She closed the set, fingers resting on the edges of the bindings, “Especially having noted that there was a second deity involved,” she praised, 

“Thank you,” Alhaitham nodded, “Although it was another person who identified the patterns as those of Ninhursag’s,”

”Oh? Who was it?” 

“An architect named Kaveh,” 

“Kaveh?” Nahida tilted her head to the side, index finger resting against her chin, “I have heard the name before,” 

Alhaitham shifted, reaching out to the handle of the cup, “He used to be a scholar,” 

“Ah,” Nahida exclaimed, bright green eyes settling on Alhaitham, “I remember - Abtin and Faranak’s little boy…Kaveh,” she smiled almost wistfully, “His parents were brilliant researchers…and so was he while he still worked with the Akademiya. Although a lot of his research and thinking remained misunderstood for a while, the Kshahrewar still refer to his work on desert architecture, ” 

So Nahida knew of Kaveh and his parents, “He doesn’t like speaking about them,” Alhaitham stated, “He cannot recall them without being pained,” he whispered, now more to himself than to Nahida. Was there nothing that could absolve one of such a pain? Alhaitham wondered if it was a loss. He’d never known his parents well enough to feel loss, although the same could not be said of his grandmother. It was painful, but Alhaitham was aware that this was the inevitable nature of living. To prolong a life farther than its natural course, would only bring more pain than respite.

Alhaitham was no stranger to his emotions, but he’d never let them overtake him. He’d felt his grief, held it carefully in his heart, allowing himself the time that was needed, before looking ahead again. 

Maybe Kaveh was unable to look ahead. Or maybe - 

“His father passed away in the desert, he’d gotten caught in quicksand. His mother remarried a few years later to a mechanical researcher in Fontaine,” Nahida explained, her gaze carefully resting on Alhaitham. She took in the small flick of his eyes as he met hers, they widened, his shoulders straightening. “Maybe this is something you should have heard from him first,” Nahida smiled gently, “but you seem troubled with the desire to help that man, but not enough knowledge or means to do so,” 

Alhaitham sighed, it was impossible to hide one’s intentions from the Dendro Archon, but she was a kind god; not meddlesome by any means, but supportive and encouraging. He sensed the same guiding intention in her smile as she nodded at him.

“Children are sensitive creatures, though they do not understand the complex emotions of the world,” Nahida continued. It was odd, hearing those words from one with such a child-like resemblance, “And what they don’t understand, they liken to their own truths. Perhaps this was how Kaveh lived as a child,”

Alhaitham wondered what was the nature of truth that Kaveh was presently seeking. Was he seeking anything at all? Or was he still imprisoned by the notions of his younger self? 

“You should pay him a visit while you’re still in the city,” Nahida said, smoothening over the cover page of his report before sliding it back to him, “And as for the report, I am quite happy with your progress - your hypothesis is solid and I expect it will aid good results,”

Alhaitham nodded, gathering the sheets. He leafed through them once before tapping the edges against the surface of the table to align the pages. He would now have to plan out further steps for the research - the supplies he’d need and the finances involved. Detailing out his proposal would probably require another visit to the House of Daena, perhaps he could borrow some of the texts. He might not be able to meet Kaveh today. Even if he wanted to, where would he find the man? Alhaitham had no address to write to, no mutual acquaintance he could ask. 

“Nahida, may I formally enlist Kaveh’s assistance in this? He is well-learned with an exceptional intelligence in the topic at hand,” 

The Dendro Archon considered the proposition. On the surface, it certainly was a beneficial one. Having Kaveh work as a researcher again would not only bring back his reputation as ‘The Light of Kshahrewar’ but also enrich the intellectual contributions made by the Darshan. However, she doubted those were any of the thoughts running in Alhaitham’s mind. She smiled, crossing her arms with a knowing expression, “Is that the solution you propose, Alhaitham? I cannot guarantee that it would work,” she said, 

Alhaitham blinked, feigning ignorance, “Why not? Kaveh is better versed in ruin architecture, murals, patterns and art. It is only natural to want to fill any gaps in the research process,” 

“You know what I meant,” Nahida briefly closed her eyes, her hands coming to rest around her teacup, “But perhaps it doesn’t matter as much,” she said with a small sigh, looking up to the spire of the glass dome, “Human emotions are a complex thing, and I suppose you understand as much, Alhaitham?” 

“I do,” 

“Then I believe you are aware of how you are proceeding, but bear in mind that a stream flows clear only in the face of the unrelenting current and the weight of pebble and stone that it filters through.” 

It clicked in Alhaitham’s mind then, at Nahida’s gentle analogy, that Kaveh was very much like the stream that she described. A stream that goes to great lengths to keep itself clear, filling its beds with rock and stone. A clear stream was a beautiful sight, a source of water and nourishment to all forms of life. But a muddy stream was just as important; nature doesn’t discriminate on aesthetics. A tree’s roots would still draw in the water, and a thirsty bird would still dip its beak in the murky depths.

Life would thrive, regardless, and continue on. 

---

Weary, but with his mind brimming full of possibilities for his research, Alhaitham stepped out of the House of Daena. It was evening by the time he was done, the sun just beginning to set by the forest-lined horizon of Sumeru City. The bustle of the night market and taverns below reached through the levelled paths of the Great Tree to where he stood by the fountains in front of the Akademiya. 

A passing wind rustled the leaves of the tree, the noise like a gentle chatter that passed overhead. It carried with it a gentle laugh, the sounds of people talking. Alhaitham turned in its direction, recognising the light timbre almost too easily. It came from one of the smaller garden kiosks, tucked within large sprawling aerial roots and flowering bushes. He stalled by one of the adjacent fountains, choosing to observe from afar rather than intrude on the trio. 

Kaveh was seated at one of the chairs in the kiosk, opposite two others who looked like Akademiya students, given the colour of their robes. Their eyes were trained on the spread of papers and sheets in front as Kaveh’s fingers danced along, pointing at numerous figures and texts in his lengthy explanation. 

So is this how he spends his free time?

The sun bled golden through the gaps in the branches, outlining the sharp dip of Kaveh’s nose, and the curve of his lips, making his hair glow. Alhaitham sighed, watching as the trio continued their discussion, Kaveh’s pale and slender fingers animatedly illustrating his words in swift motions. He’d never seen the architect talk with such enthusiasm. The two students listened, almost dreamy-eyed, hanging onto every one of their senior’s words while swiftly taking down notes. 

As the light receded, the sun having dipped down fully beneath the horizon, the students stood up, gathering their materials before profusely bowing and offering their thanks to the architect. They left in high spirits, tittering voices thrilled with all they had learnt. Alhaitham watched them leave, before turning his gaze back towards Kaveh. The architect had slumped fully in his seat, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his palms. 

Stepping out from behind the fountain, Alhaitham made his way to the garden kiosk, his footsteps loud against the pavement. Kaveh snapped up at the sound, eyes wide before they settled on Alhaitham’s approaching figure, softening upon recognition. 

“Oh?” He smiled, leaning forward against the desk as Alhaitham slid into the seat opposite him, “I didn’t expect I’d be seeing you this soon,” Kaveh said.

“I just returned this morning,” Alhaitham confessed, leaning back against the bench, “it has been a busy day,” 

Kaveh hummed sympathetically, “And the review of your report?” 

“It went well,” 

Briefly, Alhaitham considered offering Kaveh to join the research. Would now be too early? He was not aware if the architect had any other projects lined up, and looking at how he’d been helping the Akademiya students with their research this late into the evening, it was likely that Kaveh kept his schedules filled to the brim. If anything, the dark circles under his eyes only proved as such. 

“You look tired,” Alhaitham pointed out, 

“So do you,” Kaveh shot back, half grinning with a palm resting against his cheek. His elbows slid down against the stone surface of the table, arms crossed as he leaned forwards. “I’m going to take a nap, wake me in fifteen minutes?” Kaveh said, cheek flat against his forearm “After that we can head to Lambad’s for dinner?

“Okay,” Alhaitham pulled out a book from his belt pouch, idly relishing in the cool evening breeze and Kaveh’s soft breaths as the architect cushioned his head against his arms. 

The proposal could wait for tomorrow, Alhaitham decided. He would need to further detail the logistics after all, if Kaveh were to join him. Glimpsing the sleeping form of the architect over the edge of his book, he wondered about Nahida’s words to him earlier in the day. How did Kaveh live as a child? With the sorrow of his father’s death? Or with the weight of it? 

With a sigh, Alhaitham returned his attention to his book. It was a pleasant night, and by simply being in the architect’s company he felt the weariness in his bones seep away. He shelved his other thoughts away, deciding to enjoy the present for the moment. 

---

“Kaveh, it’s getting late, I will walk you home,”  Alhaitham’s voice was firm, as was his palm placed against the architect’s shoulder.

“Mmm, no…Haitham,” Cheeks flushed, Kaveh slumped against the booth with half-lidded eyes. He let out a soft sigh, palm pressed against his forehead. 

“You’ve had too much to drink,” 

How did it turn into this? Alhaitham frowned, leaning over Kaveh to shake him. They’d only headed into Lambad’s to chat over dinner, but Kaveh had looked at him in a sad, almost longing manner with his fingers tracing over the edge of his wine cup, the contents of which Lambad seemed to know to keep flowing. 

”Kaveh? Where do you stay?” 

Kaveh groaned, face hidden by his bangs that fell forward with his movements, “Nowhere, ‘sold my house,” 

The admission was quiet in the dying noise of the nearly empty tavern. Alhaitham held his breath, taking in the image of Kaveh before him, so different from the version he’d stumbled across in the forest. Crumpled against the edge of the table, his shawl slipping off his shoulders and the circlet that usually sat perfectly on the crown of his head, askew and leaning to the side. 

“Is that true?” Alhaitham leaned further in, voice low, 

“Shhh,” Kaveh put a finger against his lips, “No one’s gotta know,” 

Alhaitham regarded Kaveh carefully, the sombre look in his eyes, dulled by alcohol. His lips were twisted in a frown as he peered back up at Alhaitham. 

He doesn’t want anyone to see this side of him . 

It made sense, Alhaitham thought, for someone who was so well admired by those around him, for someone who went out of their way to help and be of use to others, to want to hide this ugliness within, to bury it beneath a smiling facade. 

“Is it okay if I know then?” Alhaitham said, fixing the red shawl over his shoulders. He brushed aside strands of the architect’s bangs, fingers lingering over the jewelled circlet that rested atop his forehead. 

“Mm,” Kaveh stared up, crimson eyes hazy, “I can trust you,” 

Trust.

Alhaitham wondered if anyone had trusted him like this before. 

Nahida trusted him to do his work, his peers trusted his research and intellectual abilities and those who worked under him trusted his guidance and leadership. This, however, was different. 

Kaveh trusted him with his vulnerability. 

What had happened, for an architect as brilliant and well-known as him to have fallen to such a state? Alhaitham unclasped the pin that held his cloak in place, draping it around Kaveh and pulling the hood over his head. 

“Are you wondering why I am like this?” Kaveh whispered, “Has your expectations of me been shattered?” Kaveh’s words, suddenly clear from any inebriation, made Alhaitham pause. 

“I don’t see you any differently,” Alhaitham replied carefully, handing him a glass of water. 

“Is that so?” Crimson irises flickered to the surface of the liquid, shining gold in the warm lights of the tavern. He swirled it around, a few of the droplets spilling over the rim onto the white of his pants. “I built a palace,” Kaveh admitted, almost wistfully, “and it cost me everything,”  his voice cracked as he brought the cup to his lips, gulping down its contents. 

“Do you have a place to stay?” Alhaitham repeated, “A room…or an inn somewhere?” 

“Yes,” Kaveh lied, setting the cup back on the table, 

“Kaveh?” Alhaitham prompted, an urgency in his voice as he heard the sounds of Lambad going about his closing-up routine. 

“The owner lets me stay in a room upstairs sometimes,” 

Alhaitham leaned away, hand retreating to his side, “Sometimes?” he was about to offer something else instead, the words right on the tip of his tongue when Lambad approached them. 

“You can let him be,” came the tavern owner’s voice. 

Alhaitham turned around to where Lambad stood, hands on his hips and a look of pity in his eyes. 

That night, Alhaitham walked back to his house alone, heart burning with an anger that he could not find a place for. Kaveh was almost the sole person responsible for his situation, and yet…

Why does he make himself suffer? 

Alhaitham had heard about the Palace of Alcazarzaray; the splendour and opulence of the structure were the pride of its owner, Lord Sangemah Bay. He’d heard rumours of the Palace being crushed by the Withering near completion, and he’d heard how miraculously, it had still been brought back up, twice as beautiful and thrice as glamorous. 

Knowing what he did about Kaveh so far, it was not difficult to put two and two together. 

Was this truly the real Kaveh? A brilliance burdened by the eclipse of a guilt-fueled selflessness? Was this the sort of truth that the architect sought, so painstakingly, each day? 

Alhaitham thought of the time he spent with him by the creek, over orange blossom tea and the filtered sun in his hair. In that moment, he’d seemed truly free, removed from his world of self-inflicted pain. 

The first thing next morning, Alhaitham made his way back to the tavern with a completed research proposal in hand, only to be met by the sympathetic gaze of Lambad. 

“He left early to Gandharva Village, to help with some construction work there,” he explained, 

---

Frankly, Alhaitham was not ready to make the half-day trip to Gandharva Village again so soon. The thought that maybe he could catch up with Kaveh spurred him on, hitching a ride amongst a group of travelling merchants and their sumpter beast carts before belatedly realising that Kaveh must have done the same, in which case catching up to him would be hard. 

An urgency pulled at him, as the Gandharva river came into view, along with the towering trees and little thatch huts that peppered the banks along the thick tree roots. 

The sumpter beasts came to a halt by one of the wooden stilted bridges and Alhaitham got off by the river edge scanning the village for a certain golden-haired architect clad in white. 

The riverbank was busier than usual, with boats hauling several large boxes and sacks. Fishermen and villagers gathered around with shouts of encouragement and heave-ho’s.

“Yer from the city aren’t ya?” A boatsman standing beside him nodded his chin at Alhaitham as he stepped out of the path of two men carrying large sacks.

“Yes,” 

“It’s gotten busy around ‘ere lately, with how the Withering’s struck,” he stepped forward then, grabbing a mooring line that was tossed out by one of the other boatmen.  Alhaitham filed the bit of information in his mind and turned away, leaving the man to his task. 

“Alhaitham?” 

The voice was a familiar one, the light timbre alerting Alhaitham’s mind as it cut through the crowd. He looked around, pushing past a few of the men.

He spotted a shock of golden hair amongst the rabble, the tip of a turquoise blue quill bobbing along in the movement. 

“Kaveh,” he greeted in an exhale, shoulders finally relaxing as relief seeped through him.

“Haitham, it’s you!” The architect walked up to him, a sheepish smile upon his face, the edges of his embroidered red shawl draped closer around his shoulders, fluttering in the gentle breeze. The circlet that he usually wore around his hair was decorated with red mourning flower buds, they brought out the crimson of his eyes as they met Alhaitham’s green ones, “We keep meeting up sooner than we expect to, don't we? ”

Alhaitham felt a warmth spread through his chest as Kaveh beamed up at him. The architect looked better than last night, if not for a bit worn out. He placed a hand against Alhaitham’s arm, giving him a pat in a fond gesture.  

“I wished to talk with you,” Alhaitham began, stepping away from the crowd.

Kaveh followed him, brow raised, “If it's about last night then you can forget what happened,” he dismissed with a short wave of his hand, “I had too much to drink is all,” 

“No,” Alhaitham held his ground, brows drawn together, “Kaveh…it doesn’t seem like you’re doing okay,” 

“I am fine, Alhaitham. I’m telling you it was the wine,” Kaveh insisted, teeth clenched as he looked away at some of the huts in the distance, willing Alhaitham to move on from the topic at hand. It seemed to work to an extent, although Alhaitham watched him closely as they walked on for a few moments in silence. The tension in Kaveh’s jaw seemed to melt away as they passed by portions of the village, the people slowly settling into the lull of activities of the late noon.

A couple hundred metres later, Kaveh came to a halt, pointing at an empty, barren-looking spot in the distance. “The Withering hit over there, it was rather sudden,” his hand dropped by his side again, with a resigned huff. “The entire southern wing of the village was destroyed,” Kaveh looked upon the wreckage, painted a haunted golden in the sun, “I’m helping with the rebuilding,” 

Alhaitham probably shouldn’t have replied to that. Maybe just a hum of acknowledgement, a passing comment of sympathy on the desolation. But he was not one to coddle things - or people - and his mind still hadn’t left their previous thread of conversation, determined to see a conclusion to it. 

“Is it a commission?” 

Kaveh fixed him with a glare, almost immediately, “ Look , at these people Haitham!” he gestured with his hands, “Do you think they’re in a position to be paying me?” 

No, Alhaitham thought. They weren’t. But someone should be. Alhaitham made a mental note to discuss it with Nahida. Disaster relief funds needed to cover skills outsourced for rebuilding as well. “I can help arrange for it,” he said. 

There was a noise of indignation from beside him, “I am not doing this for the money, Alhaitham! Since when were you like this?!” 

Alhaitham frowned at Kaveh’s tone, “You’re right,” he turned towards him, voice turning sharp “You’re doing this out of your own sense of misplaced guilt,”

Kaveh blinked at him, eyes wide like a caught deer. 

With a sigh, he attempted again in a more gentler tone. Alhaitham placed a hand on the architect’s shoulder, “Stop burdening yourself Kaveh. It is doing you no good. Look,” He held out the folder that contained his detailed research proposal, “I’ve got Nahida’s permission to include you in it. You should join, the project is well funded and you can use it to rent a proper place-” 

Kaveh shrugged him off in a sudden jerk, taking a harsh step back, away from Alhaitham, “I suppose you don’t know,” he began, voice cold, “but my father died because of me - my own selfishness - my mother leaving home was a consequence of this,” he raised his eyes, and Alhaitham noted a different expression within the crimson as flecks of amber dance in them like flames licked by a tragedy, “It was a happy home, my own little palace, and I destroyed it with my own two hands,” 

Alhaitham swallowed thickly, reaching blindly for his reasoning, the rationale that never failed him, the one that allowed him to lead a happy and satisfied life thus far. Maybe it could help Kaveh too, “But even so…what is the meaning of this truth of yours? When it only weighs on your shoulders like lead and will take a lifetime - or even longer - to absolve you of this guilt?” 

“It doesn’t have to,” Kaveh’s voice was quiet, eyes moistened over. 

“This isn’t right,” Alhaitham’s voice dropped low, “Why wouldn’t you care for yourself in the right way? Do you realise how selfish your altruism is?!” 

“Stop that,” Kaveh snapped at him with burning eyes and Alhaitham found all further words stuck at the back of his throat, clamping up at the realisation that he’d crossed a line. Out here on the edge of Gandharva Village, and this late into the afternoon, when the village had retreated to the shade and cool of their huts and tea stalls; the sudden heave of Kaveh’s shoulders and the angered breath that pushed past his nostrils was far too loud to bear. 

It wasn’t meant to happen like this, 

At least this was not how Alhaitham had planned on confronting him. 

Kind, and compassionate, Kaveh always helped out. It was admirable, truly, but to Alhaitham, no collective well-being was worth the cost of one person’s happiness. Maybe he’d be able to shrug his shoulders and brush it off as ‘you get what you ask for’ if it were anyone else. But not Kaveh. Not Kaveh who was blessed by the sun and the divine spring. 

Was it simply a matter of light being unable to exist without darkness? For Kaveh to be so easily upset, for self-blame to come so readily, for his many versions of nightmares and buried daydreams, hopes and wishes, quelled down by a turmoil that couldn’t be ceased?

A multitude of pebbles and stones covered the muddy banks and algae-ridden sands, for the sake of the spring to flow clear.  

Maybe it was the paradox of life itself. But if that was the case, then why did Kaveh smile brighter for others than for himself? 

Alhaitham could no longer watch. It went against his principles, his way of life, to see someone who came so close to his perfect version of intellectual and theoretical brilliance to be chased by a darkness of their own making. 

“I can’t see you suffer like this,” 

The narrow trail of the forest closed in on them, almost suffocating. 

“Then don’t.” Kaveh spit out, standing a few paces ahead of him. 

The noisy call of cicadas and peafowl had suddenly gone silent. A breeze blew through the leaves overhead, and the forest seemed to come to a standstill.

“Don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself - it’s like a curse -”

“And you do? Because you see the world oh so differently from me?!” Kaveh roared with contempt like a flash fire. 

Dread pooled in the pits of his chest, and Alhaitham fought for words, something, anything that would bring Kaveh back from the edge of the cliff that he had built for himself. 

“I understand because I love you,” he breathed, voice dropping to barely a whisper at the sudden realisation of his own admission. The words had spilled out on their own and his eyes flickered helplessly, from Kaveh’s face to the distance between them. 

The glower that had twisted Kaveh’s expression smoothened out as his lips parted in a soft noise of surprise. For a moment, he stared unresponsive at Alhaitham, fists clenched. And then, all of a sudden, a foreign coldness replaced the fire in his eyes, stretching out in ice.

“ Don’t you ever speak to me again ,” 

Alhaitham watched, the tips of his fingers chilled to the bone as Kaveh turned his back on him, disappearing into the forest. 

A massive cloud drew across the sun, the sudden darkening overcast falling upon a single bloom amongst the many buds scattered along dew-covered grass. A golden yellow, its neck drooping as if overcome by a deep mourning.

Chapter Text

Blood gushed through Kaveh’s veins with a force that he did not know to be possible, even as he sat still in a corner of Tighnari’s forest cabin, stewing in his thoughts. 

Alhaitham had first appeared like a breath of fresh air. On an oddly balmy day in the forest when the humidity and moisture in the air had messed with Mehrak’s internal structure. It rendered the animated briefcase incapable of functioning, which had left Kaveh without a map to get back to the village with. Kaveh hadn’t expected anyone to be around, although he’d reckoned that if he was out in the rainforest long enough Tighnari would come and find him. But it turned out he didn’t have to wait for the forest ranger, Alhaitham had found him before that.

It was strange how the days after that became a routine, how easily it had happened, how natural it had felt, spending time with Alhaitham… as if Kaveh had waited all his life for it. 

Stop. You don’t deserve things like that. 

Kaveh dug his nails into his cheeks, burying his face into his arms as an image of the silver-haired researcher came to his mind. He was infuriatingly handsome, with squarish features and a strong dip of the nose. The way his honey-tan skin nearly glowed in the afternoons had Kaveh staring at him with soft dreamy eyes. But he’d held it back, tucking away his thoughts and the feelings that stirred beneath a mountain of other things he kept in his heart. Things he’d hoped Alhaitham would never get a glimpse of. 

‘I understand because I love you’ 

The words made his head hurt again, and his chest clenched even further as he thought of his own words that had followed like a curse. But even so, this was how he’d chosen to live his life. It was the only way that made sense to him.  

And he knew Alhaitham would never agree to it. 

And now you’ve made him worry too. 

Kaveh cursed himself. He should have never had dinner with him at Lambad’s, the warm, easygoing atmosphere of the tavern had loosened up his nerves and with Alhaitham sitting opposite to him it had made things even more unbearable for the architect. Feelings and wishes that he could not allow himself seemed just within reach.

You hurt and push away everyone who you love.

“Kaveh?” 

The voice snapped the architect out of his spiral, and he raised his head, quickly looking around.

The dendro lamps in the cabin began to glow, accompanied by the exasperated voice of its owner as the door was pushed open.

“ What are you doing sitting here in the dark like this?” 

“Tighnari?” Kaveh blanched, nearly cowering underneath the stern gaze of his friend. He was quite prepared, in the still darkness of the cabin that lay tucked away in the whispers of the forest, to lose himself in the thicket of his dark thoughts. To give in for once, just one time.

“ Yes.” Tighnari quirked an eyebrow, 

Kaveh sighed, throwing his head back against the wall, “Just leave me be,” 

“Leave you be to do what? ” The annoyance was evident in the forest ranger’s voice as he stepped in, latching the door shut. His ears flicked, dropping along the sides of his head as he threw another withering glance at Kaveh.

At that, Kaveh couldn’t hold it in anymore. Every day he went about his life and work, smiling like how an accomplished architect might. He loved his work and took great pride in his design, research and studies. But the more he sought, the more he was celebrated by those around him and the heavier the expectations got. He was aware that the praise, the glory and the love would last only as long as he was useful and brilliant. 

Something suffocated in his gut, like thick, thorny weeds closing in on his mind, scraping against old wounds.

“I-I don’t know, I-“

He was angry . Angry that the man he’d begun to trust, began to show more of himself to, only ended up worrying about him. He’d underestimated Alhaitham’s attentiveness towards him. The scholar had picked him apart, peeled away at his layers and concluded that at the bottom of it all lay something to fix. That’s all Kaveh was; someone with a problem, as if he was unaware, as if he didn’t see it in his own eyes every day when he looked at his reflection in the mirror. As if it wasn’t the only way left for him to lead his life. 

As outrageous as Alhaitham’s imperious approach had been, he still couldn’t forget the last words said to him. Like a hopeful bud, a flower Kaveh had forbidden himself from touching again. 

“It’s Alhaitham,” Kaveh began again, feeling the weeds twist higher up his throat, 

“Hm?” Tighnari quirked a brow at him, “That researcher from the city?” 

Kaveh dropped his gaze to his knees, for a moment the clink of his ornaments that accompanied his movements were the only sounds. Tighnari moved to take a seat opposite him on the bench, sensing that it was going to be a slightly longer conversation.

“He’s…an amazing person really, like I told you the last time too. But-” Kaveh grimaced, “He’ll never understand me, we’re so wildly different from each other,” 

Tighnari tilted his head with a small frown, “Well, of course, you’re both different people,”

“But I messed it up,” Kaveh admitted softly with a shake of his head, “I yelled at him, but I couldn’t help it, he just-” he clutched at his forearms with a groan, “I don’t think I can take back what I said to him…especially when h-he said that he loves me,” 

Kaveh curled in on himself, feeling very small as waves of guilt, anger and refusal washed over him in an overwhelming cascade.

“Oh…” Tighnari exhaled, voice softening. He watched as Kaveh brushed away a few stray tears, before stepping towards him. “Do you return his feelings, Kaveh?” he asked gently, ears drooping flat against his head. 

Kaveh did not reply, even as Tighnari shifted closer to place a hand over his shoulder in reassurance. 

--- 

Kaveh set out early in the morning the next day, before Tighnari could rise, leaving a letter behind so his friend wouldn’t worry. White robes trailing, he made his way into the forest in a daze. 

His anger at Alhaitham had faded down to a dull ache, an unpleasant feeling that lingered at the back of his mind whenever he thought of the silver-haired researcher. It was now fully replaced by the dread of having to see him again, and the guilt of pushing him away when all the latter had done was to try and help him, in his own straightforward way. 

It was this straightforward and rational nature of Alhaitham’s that sat so poorly against Kaveh’s own philosophies. They were different all the way down to their most basic fundamentals. It was not the same way in which differences arose solely from the factor of it being two different people.

Now, in the aftermath of their falling out, the realisation tasted bitter. That their differences constituted opposites and weren’t opposites supposed to complete a whole? 

The forest was filled with a sombre mist that lingered along the edges of the trees. Absent-mindedly, Kaveh waded through the bushes. He knew that the chances of stumbling upon the very man he wished to avoid would be high in these parts of the forest; the rocky trail that led to their beloved creek. Alhaitham had come out to Gandharva village to conduct the next phase of his research after all, so he too would be heading towards the ruins of Enki. Some part of Kaveh hoped for an encounter, another part of him rejected the idea of it altogether. 

Despite his conflicting emotions on the matter, something still drew him to the creek. The one place where he felt completely removed from his past, where the rain lilies bloomed and the fern chattered in the occasional rainforest drizzle. Where he first met Alhaitham, worn from the humidity and yet curious and composed, always surrounded by that cool air that made him seem unapproachable. 

Upon reaching the banks of the creek, he was met by the same familiar setting. The only difference was the young narcissus blooms that dotted the edges of the banks. The pebbled fronts had grown bushier, saplings sprouting out eagerly in the aftermath of rain. 

He exhaled, palm flat against the trunk of a rosewood tree as he paused to catch his breath. Heart in his throat, he cast a glance at the rocky outcrop behind which the ruins were situated. 

It was empty, at least from what Kaveh could tell, eyes squinting in the glowing haze of sunrise. Alhaitham could very well be within the ruins, or be arriving later. Kaveh dropped to his knees, the soft, damp grass staining his clothes. What had he come here for? The fog in his mind slowly began to clear and he looked around the creek, eyes blank. 

The forest around him buzzed to life, a world unaware of his predicament. He watched blankly, as sunbirds busied between trees and branches, frogs hopped through damp moss and the distant mating call of a raptor sounded overhead. Life continued on, whether he continued to atone for his guilt or not, whether or not he even felt the ever-present weight of it, tainting even the happiest of his memories. 

Alhaitham was the only connection he had that lay far away from this guilt. The only person who’d appeared in his life unconnected to any of his previous failures. 

And I went and ruined it too,

Kaveh stood up, dusting his knees in a sigh of defeat. There was nothing he could do here out by the creek, except to accept the fate that he’d assigned to himself…an acceptance that never came easy, no matter how much he’d lost in his life already. 

As he turned around, a bright glow from his dendro vision stopped him. Kaveh frowned. Mehrak was not with him and he had not willingly activated his vision. The glow pulsed, and he turned towards the creek, spotting glimmers of dendro energy that led towards the waters. He couldn’t help the bitter laugh that spilled past his lips. Was this some sort of divine intervention? Did the Dendro Archon, in all her wisdom and knowledge, decide to throw him a hint? Guide him towards something? Now? This was not the lowest point of his life by any means, though given his financial standing it did come close somewhere on the list. 

His vision felt heavy over his shoulder where he wore it strapped to his shawl, the warmth from the glow spreading throughout his body. It was only then that he became aware of the fatigue that throbbed in his limbs. He hadn’t slept very well the past few nights.

Eyes trained on the glimmer of dendro, he walked towards the edge of the creek. The water flowed slowly, almost coming to a still as it pooled over the edges of the bank, meeting stone and weed. Blue lilies dotted the surface of the water - were they always there? Kaveh could not remember. He caught a glimpse of his own reflection, his skin a pale reflection in the clear water. Did he always look this tired? 

Kaveh preferred to pay close attention to his appearance. Priding himself in maintaining his skin and hair, adorning his features with ornaments and colour. But now as he stared back at his own reflection, he could hardly recognise himself. The mourning flowers that were woven into his circlet had nearly dried up, shrinking into his golden hair, his eyes appeared dull and hollowed out, and strands of hair escaped his braids, spilling around his cheeks. 

He remembered another time that his own image stared back at him like this lifelessly. Atop the wreckage of the Palace of Alcazarzaray when he’d knelt upon the rubble, shards of green stained glass fracturing his broken reflection. That’s right, that was the first time the Dendro Archon had reached out to him, blessing him with his vision. 

Kaveh never doubted or regretted his choice to rebuild the Palace. It was the only way he had, even if it left him with nothing except a name and the fame that came along. But such things could never bring back the warmth of home, the love of a family and the content of a free life. He wondered what Alhaitham would say to that, something different for sure. Alhaitham always thought differently. In response to all of Kaveh’s opinions and philosophies, Alhaitham had presented a fresh view, one that was backed by his own way of life, his own truth. 

Belatedly, he realised that this was what Alhaitham had offered him the previous day at the edge of the forest. He was not looking down on Kaveh, he was not criticising him or calling him wrong, he did not put himself on any pedestal as he offered those words. He’d simply spoken of his own truth. 

Kaveh found his legs going weak, and he sank to the ground, taking support from a nearby rock. His eyes remained transfixed over the distorted reflection that stared back at him, baring the ugliness that he so painstakingly sought to hide. A facade that Alhaitham saw through, and still sought to love. His reflection twisted in the agony that overcame him, and his vision blurred as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. 

Gently, the surface of the creek rippled with his sorrow, and the forest, ever a silent observer, hummed along as Kaveh sank further into the thorny overgrowth of his mind. 

—-

Alhaitham sat at the base of the steps of the Gandharva village inn he stayed the night at. He watched as the villagers busied themselves with rebuilding the parts of their homes that they lost. They carried large rolls of sheets in their hands, frequently referring to the drawings in them. The sheets were almost all signed by the name ‘Kaveh’, Alhaitham glimpsed. He sighed, as the uncomfortable feeling at the back of his mind reared up its head again. He shifted, closing the book that he’d been staring at for the past half hour, unable to read, and leaned against his elbow resting on a knee. For the first time in several years, Alhaitham found himself sulking. 

Ideally, if a problem that was completely out of his hands presented itself to him, he’d let it be, push it out of his mind, and resume his activities. Kaveh was not a problem per se. He was against putting it that way. But he did not deny the fact that their previous conversation left Alhaitham feeling wounded and unhappy. Somehow, his words had not reached the architect, instead they’d only hurt him further, pushing him away. 

‘Human emotions are a complex thing,’

His conversation with Nahida came back as a cruel reminder that he did not, in fact, understand human emotions at all. He thought he did; he was human too. But Kaveh’s searing gaze and cold rejection were proof of his inabilities. 

He let out a heavy sigh. Logically, he should return to the ruins and resume his work. There was no point mulling about what he couldn’t help. Yet, he scanned the people around. Kaveh was in charge of this rebuilding, so Alhaitham reasoned that the architect should be around here, somewhere. Perhaps it was this feeble hope that kept him within the village in an unnaturally illogical determination. 

It was then that he noticed a figure he recognised among the crowd. The studded tips of a black jackal mask stood out from amongst the villagers and Alhaitham watched as the familiar figure of the General Mahamatra approached him. Trailing behind the General was someone he’d only heard of before and briefly glimpsed at a few lectures; Tighnari the forest ranger. 

“That’s him,” General Cyno said with a tilt of a chin in Alhaitham’s direction. 

Alhaitham sat up straight, brow raised as the pair of them approached him from the stairs, Tighnari now in the lead. 

“Alhaitham?” the forest ranger spoke, 

“Yes,” 

A folded piece of paper was thrust in front of him. Alhaitham looked at it and then at the ranger. With a sigh, he took up the piece of paper. 

“Kaveh left that. Not for you, but I think you should know regardless,” 

Alhaitham sharpened at the mention of Kaveh, brows furrowed as he opened the letter. It was short and written in a rush, but he recognised the delicate strokes of the architect’s handwriting easily. 

Dear Tighnari, 

I am sorry for my behaviour yesterday. I will be heading out now. Rest assured there is nothing to worry about. The village restoration will not be affected, the villagers have all that they need already. 

-Kaveh

The letter was clear, devoid of any unnecessary emotion, and seemed like there was nothing to worry about. 

But Alhaitham knew Kaveh. If he’d misjudged him before then he’d certainly learnt by now. And he assumed that Tighnari knew Kaveh fairly well too, along with what had gone on between them, which is why the man had brought the letter to him. 

Urgently, Alhaitham stood up from his spot on the stairs, looking to Tighnari for more information. 

The forest ranger sighed, the worry was evident on his face as well, “He didn’t tell me where he was going, and I have no idea. But he was very upset,” hand on his hip, he fixed a stern gaze on Alhaitham, “I trust you will do what you have to, I can go hunting for him as well, but I think it has to be you,”  

Alhaitham nodded, returning the letter to the ranger, “I know,” 

Tighnari muttered a terse ‘good’, fixing him with one last look, as if measuring him up to the task, before walking off, General Cyno in tow. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes for a moment, briefly composing himself before going over a list of possible places in his mind. It was likely that Kaveh despised him at the moment, and would hence seek to go as far away from him as possible. Logically, that would mean somewhere in the city, because he had to have been aware that Alhaitham would be heading to the creek to continue his research. 

But if that were truly the case, Tighnari would not have brought the letter to him. 

It would be an absurdly wild contraction, for Kaveh to head somewhere that Alhaitham knew of. Further, for him to head to a place that both of them shared. 

A place that only the two of them knew of. 

Through sheer instinct, Alhaitham rejected the idea, frowning. But intuition made him reconsider. 

Truly, he was nowhere near understanding the full scope of human emotion. It would probably be quite a feat, even for Nahida. The human heart was so transient and unpredictable. 

Although, Alhaitham reasoned, that it can take a heart to know another. 

Having made up his mind, he set off on the path towards the creek, a familiar one that he now did not get lost on and needed no compass or map for. If Kaveh was there by the creek, Alhaitham thought of what he could say to the architect. Words had clearly failed him on his previous attempt, but words were all that Alhaitham had. 

No, Alhaitham thought, in a sudden clarity, I went wrong last time because I was seeing Kaveh’s position through my eyes. 

That had to be it. He had to try and understand Kaveh through Kaveh’s way of thinking, through his emotions, feelings and thoughts. But then what? Would that actually yield acceptable results? Or would he simply arrive at the same conclusions that Kaveh did? 

If Kaveh’s truth was not enough to guide him to a better place, and Alhaitham’s ideology was too much of a drastic shift for him, then what was left? 

There has to be a middle ground. A point where the two meet.

A combination of both their ideologies, because, after all, two opposites make a whole.

And Alhaitham had always felt whole around Kaveh, like a piece of him that he wasn’t aware was missing had been fit back in place. Now that he’d tasted what it felt like to be complete, being away from Kaveh had made him feel lacking.

It hinted at a type of dependency that Alhaitham would usually not be fond of. But when were things ‘as usual’ when it came to Kaveh? Perhaps that was the whole point, Alhaitham reasoned. These new feelings, motivations, desires and impulses. Only Kaveh brought them about in him. 

However, all of his formulations and inferences fell short once he arrived at the creek. 

Kaveh was there, against all odds that rationale had laid out for him. Leaning against the rock, from where Alhaitham stood several paces behind, it appeared like Kaveh was looking into the waters of the creek. But there was something about the scene that made Alhaitham stop short by an Agathis tree in the distance, ducking underneath its spindly foliage. 

Flickers of dendro energy sparkled around the creek, casting a soft, dreamy glow over Kaveh’s figure. Something was off, although it hadn’t yet triggered any alarm bells in Alhaitham’s mind. Squinting, he noticed a similar green glow from over Kaveh’s shoulder, where he normally wore his vision. As if resonating with this thought, his own dendro vision began to glow by his waist. 

He took a step forward, mouth open, ready to call out Kaveh’s name. But the call didn’t come, his voice stuck at the base of his throat, his body seemingly refusing his mind. Suddenly, Alhaitham felt drained of all of his realisations on the way to the creek as Kaveh’s last words to him echoed in his mind, 

‘Don’t you ever speak to me again,’ 

Doubt crept upon him, catching him unawares as he froze beneath the same tree. 

Did Kaveh really want to see him now? 

Alhaitham leaned against the bark of the tree, sliding down against the rough surface till he hit the ground. 

He couldn’t do it. 

For all his confidence in his reasonings, for all his understandings of the heart and the mind, his feelings and his desires; he could not go to Kaveh. 

He could not shake off the irrational fear that the golden-haired architect did not want him at all.

The human heart was really a strange thing after all. 

Chapter Text

Hours passed, perhaps it was days. Alhaitham lost track. 

Occasionally he went to the ruins, telling himself that a bit of research would probably shake him out of whatever inability had possessed him. It didn’t work. 

A strange spell had fallen over the area; he noticed through his continued observation of the creek where Kaveh remained, transfixed by whatever was in its waters. Alhaitham never got close enough to find out about that. But he did observe that time in the surrounding area moved slower; in quite a literal sense. 

A ley-line anomaly? Or perhaps due to the ruins. 

He frowned at the Dendro particles that hung in the canopy above them. Was it Nahida? Souring, he dismissed the thought immediately. The Dendro Archon would not cast such an elaborate illusion without informing him first.

Dawn and dusk, the movement of the birds and animals in the area, the narcissus blooms that ideally should have withered by now. If time flowed normally that was. 

It was disorienting when Alhaitham couldn’t even rely on the sun anymore. He was certain, however, that his body was feeling the effects of the lag as well. It dragged through the tendons of his muscles, his stomach that refused to feel hunger and the circadian rhythm that evaded his senses by a wide margin. 

But more concerning than any of that was Kaveh who remained rooted to the edge of the creek, fingers occasionally brushing against the surface of the water, legs shifting to accommodate the movement. If Alhaitham was being honest, if he was thinking with his heart; then the whole situation was his fault. If he’d never approached Kaveh in such an ignorant manner, the latter would have never pushed him away and would have never sunk into this odd state of brooding. Alhaitham could continue to be around Kaveh, he’d even hold his feelings at bay if that was what it took. 

He was part of whatever illusionary anomaly had taken hold of the area and as the second dusk elapsed into the night, and he found no discernible way out of the illusion, he settled back against the Agathis tree. If nothing else, he’d still watch over Kaveh, holding true to his promise to Tighnari, and the vestiges of an intuition that told him not to lose out on hope. 

—-

Loss. 

It was a sensation that Kaveh was well versed with. The word was almost like a cursed childhood friend of his, holding his hand tight, never letting go. It had become such a constant companion that Kaveh had long forgotten how to live without it. There was, however, someplace deep within him that was acutely aware of this emptiness. An unnatural part of his soul, a bottomless chasm. 

Most of the days he pretended like it didn’t exist. 

On some days he relished in its presence, the pain was a welcome punishment. 

The longer Kaveh stared into the waters, watching as the surface constantly shifted his visage, he saw further into his own psyche. The parts of himself that he ignored, the wounds that he pretended not to lick. The weeds that he’d allowed to take over the garden, thorns marring the flower petals.

Why had he done that? Kaveh couldn’t remember anymore. The reason itself felt insignificant somehow. It was the dangerous satisfaction he received, from relishing in his own shadows that had overpowered him. It was the far edge of the cliff, a precipice, and the lilies and magnolias had stopped growing a long time ago. 

He saw someone walk into this garden. Careful treads, reaching all the way to that cliff. Green eyes stared back at him, shaped like the emptiness that pulled at his edges. Somewhere far away, beyond those green eyes, was another garden. 

It was well cared for and it flourished, with birds chirping in song and butterflies abundant. On a closer look, it was clear that this garden too had faced its hardships. Scars left behind by an old blight. Jealousy overcame Kaveh as he took it in. How could this be? What was he doing wrong?

He searched the black pepper vines and cypress for an answer. Silk cotton trees and wild bergamot blossoms, its fragrance filling the air with an odd nostalgia. 

Kaveh blinked. Had he been here before? 

As perfect as the garden looked, there were gaps, much like the ones in Kaveh’s garden before he’d tried to fill them with weeds. Niches that Kaveh thought would look beautiful with some of the flowers that used to grow further from his own cliff. 

In a child-like wonder, he returned back to his garden and cliff, catching the green-eyed stranger walking to the edge. The stranger bent down, hands cupped. Kaveh saw soft earth spill from their palms as they scooped a portion of the soil. A few minutes later they stepped away, revealing the edge of the cliff, now with a sapling planted firmly at its end. 

It was unlike anything that Kaveh had seen before and a woody rosewood scent filled the air as the sapling began to rise in height. Steadily it climbed, and the stranger stepped away from it, coming to stand beside Kaveh. It grew taller, roots thickening with its height. With a bold determination, it clutched the rock of the cliff, engulfing the edge and reaching deeper into the chasm. It hardly took a minute for the branches to reach out next, lush green filling Kaveh’s view of the sky. A stray breeze rustled at the leaves, the gentle shuffling signalling both an end and a beginning. 

The stranger turned towards Kaveh, and in a familiar voice spoke, 

“Will you plant one for me too?” 

The words seemed distant, and desperately, Kaveh tried to place the memory, the budding feeling that he was missing something, forgetting something important. 

The stranger’s silhouette spasmed along the edges, the shapes shifting into recognition. Silver hair, honey-tan skin and honest, squarish features. 

“Alhaitham?” 

Worlds collided, and a new truth presented itself to Kaveh, one that he still didn’t have the right words for, but he was willing to believe in. The chasm beyond the cliff no longer tempted him as the water’s surface came back into view, sharp reality hitting him with the force of a shattered mirror. 

The same visage and deep green eyes gazed back at him. 

“Alhaitham!” Kaveh called out, barely registering how hoarse his voice came out, how his arm protested the movement as he stretched it in front of him, desperate to grasp the last thing that he could still hold onto. 

There was a resounding splash, as something other than air filled his senses, searing against his eyes, the cold was a shock against his skin, the burn flaring in his chest as water filled his lungs faster than he could comprehend. 

He was drowning. 

He struggled against it, a violent refusal to give up on what he’d just gained, but his body had grown weak and he could barely feel his arms anymore. Was the creek always this deep? 

Water filled him like the finale of a tragedy, and his eyes fell shut, consciousness fading away into blue. 

---

Alhaitham moved as soon as he saw Kaveh stir, doubling pace as he watched the golden-haired man call out his name and fall into the waters, his robes fluttering behind him. 

“Kaveh!” He shouted, diving in right behind him. He’d never estimated the creek to be that deep, as the cold water numbed him. The breath in his lungs felt hopelessly short as he struggled to get a hold of Kaveh, grasping him by his robes to pull him close enough so that he could wrap his arms around the man’s waist, legs propelling them up to the surface. 

Alhaitham wasted no time, dragging their bodies to the bank and resting Kaveh’s limp figure against the soft grass. Gasping, Alhaitham found his mind in a rush, there was no time to think about Kaveh’s pain or anger at him, about his guilt and regret, none of that had any place as he shook Kaveh, patted his cheek and called out his name, desperate for a response. 

When none came, not even a gasp or a semblance of a breath, he placed his palms flat against Kaveh’s chest, one over the other, pressing down in a rhythm he remembered reading in a book. The count to thirty lasted too long for Alhaitham to fully hold in his panic as he wheezed out Kaveh’s name, his voice choking into a twisted sound that he didn’t know he was capable of. Silver hair clung to his cheeks, dripping with cold water that ran down his forehead, burning his eyes. He squeezed them shut, forcing away his own pain and the swell of emotion that rose up his throat. He focused solely on the count and the steady rhythm. 

He tilted Kaveh’s chin back, pinching over his nose before pressing his open mouth over the latter’s lips, blowing with a prayer. On the second breath, when Kaveh’s chest did not rise, Alhaitham weakly realised that he must be choking. He repeated the motions again and again, the increasing count only getting more painful as he felt the crack of Kaveh’s ribs beneath his palms. 

Alhaitham screamed a low guttural that he did not recognise. This was his fault, all his fault . He should have moved sooner, he should have overcome his own apprehensions, was this what crippling guilt felt like? Was this how it felt to have a life, a precious life, taken away right under your nose, from your palm as if you were offering it up to the gods?

There was a loud gurgle, a pained retch, and as if in a dream, Alhaitham felt the body beneath him spasm to life. 

Kaveh coughed, Alhaitham helping him turn onto his side as he emptied his lungs of water. The next few moments seemed to go by in an overwhelming rush of emotions as Alhaitham felt heavy relief wash over even though he still hadn’t come down from the desperation that wrecked through him. Kaveh gasped and heaved, hunched over with an arm clutching at his chest that no doubt hurt from Alhaitham’s despairing attempt at bringing him back. 

Kaveh collected himself in weak and slow breaths, blinking back into consciousness. He turned towards Alhaitham then, eyes wide, “Alhaitham?!” he called out, voice breaking at the end, “It’s you right?” he was sobbing now, words dissolving, “It’s really you?” 

“Kaveh…” Alhaitham whispered, hoarse and aching with the effort.

Thin arms wrapped around his frame, as Kaveh pressed his forehead against his chest, “Don’t leave, please…” he cried, tightening his hold to bring them closer. 

Alhaitham breathed, grateful for the air that steadied the two of them now. He wondered where Kaveh found the strength, the resolute embrace grounding him. Fingers carded through golden hair as he let his eyes fall shut, “You too…” he murmured, the memory of Kaveh’s unforgiving rage still fresh in his mind, followed by the painful image of a limp, unresponsive body, “I almost lost you, Kaveh. ” 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, you were only trying to help in ways that you knew best! B-but I don’t know what went wrong with me, I-I ” Kaveh began to ramble, and Alhaitham stilled him with a firm palm against his back. 

“Me as well,” he whispered, burying his nose into the crook of Kaveh's neck, “I’m sorry,” 

Kaveh shuddered, pulling back to gaze up at Alhaitham. They were both soaked to the bone and exhausted beyond belief. Kaveh was definitely still in a state of delirium. But Alhaitham thought that there was nothing more complete than this moment, as they both looked into each other’s eyes to find their own reflections. 

And he knew that this was how it would be from now on. 

As if mirroring Alhaitham’s thoughts, Kaveh leaned up, pressing his lips against Alhaitham’s in a fevered and yet gentle movement. They held onto each other, foreheads pressed, breaths shared against each other cheeks, and it felt right.  

--- 

Alhaitham was certain that Kaveh deserved a larger share of Tighnari’s scoldings. Regardless, he took it calmly in stride, bearing the brunt so that Kaveh could get the rest he needed. As dramatic as Kaveh’s actions were, Alhaitham felt an odd sense of connection to the former’s description of the garden, cliff and the redwood tree as if he’d witnessed the scene himself. 

“Which sapling did you plant in turn?” Alhaitham asked once Kaveh had finished his account. 

Kaveh smiled softly, his eyes still held a tinge of exhaustion as he lay with bandages around his chest and an IV hooked to his arm. Tighnari had been deft with first aid and medical care, flipping between states of worry and exasperation as he took in their ridiculous and extraordinary tale. Alhaitham attempted to explain it as a ley-line disorder that had escalated the situation, but Tighnari had only narrowed his eyes at him in response. 

“Daffodils,” Kaveh replied, “For the beginning of a spring,” 

Alhaitham smiled, fingers brushing stray golden hair, tucking it against Kaveh’s cheeks. There was still a lot to talk about, and while Alhaitham intuitively understood Kaveh’s vague account of his realisation, Kaveh insisted that he'd put it into better words soon. 

“I know what you meant, when you said my altruism stemmed from a selfish need, that I was destroying myself,” Kaveh gazed up at the woven palm mats that covered the ceiling of Tighnari’s forest cabin, “I feel lighter now. I don’t know exactly what happened back there, a strange sense of epiphany, but I think I can handle things better now, at least, I know that I should; that there is another way out of the burdens of my past,” 

Alhaitham nodded, “I’ll be right beside you, I’m not going anywhere,” 

In turn, Alhaitham made his own promise. To look at the people around him better, to pour some heart into his rationale, at least for Kaveh’s sake. 

Once the architect’s condition stabilised enough for Tighnari to relieve him of mandatory bedrest and begrudgingly approve him as fit for travel, they made the trip back to Sumeru City. Alhaitham had not returned to the creek to further the research, primarily due to safety concerns, but he still had a report for Nahida about the strange phenomenon and the ley-line disorder that he’d observed. 

The Dendro Archon welcomed him as Kaveh waited outside the Sanctuary. 

“Have you both recovered fully?” Was Nahida’s immediate question, her worried tone further punctuated by the twist of her eyebrows.

Alhaitham stepped into the calming green of the chambers, “Yes, I apologise for the delay”

“Please, you are both children of Sumeru, your well-being is a greater priority than a delay in the research,” Nahida sighed, receiving the bundle of papers. 

Alhaitham inclined his head, waiting as the god leafed through the sheets. 

“To a certain extent, I am aware of what transpired,” Nahida gave a rueful smile, “I was the one who directed Kaveh to remain by the creek, I simply wanted him to wait for you, as I suspected that you’d arrive there soon,” she closed the bundle, “but my intervention ended there,” Standing up to her feet, she walked across the smooth marble floors to the centre of the dome, where the light shone the brightest; Sumeru’s epicentre of wisdom. 

“In this world there exists gods older than the ones we are aware of,” she began, “Stories from across time and realms, carried over by the flow of wind, water, and the burrow of an old tree’s roots,” she turned towards Alhaitham, green eyes wide with the glow of Celestia’s power, “What the two of you experienced, Kaveh being drawn to the water edge, and you, helplessly frozen in place might have been one such flow, recreated by the ley line,” 

“Why us? And why only now? We’ve spent days at that creek,” Came Alhaitham’s immediate question, 

“Perhaps the ties of fate run far more deeper, and farther back in time than we believe it to be,” 

Alhaitham frowned at Nahida’s cryptic answer that lay somewhere between the truth and heavy speculation. But perhaps that wasn’t important after all. The truth existed for no one, and everyone found their own versions of it, their own meanings and reason. This; Alhaitham had learnt to accept as he stepped out of the Sanctuary of Surasthana into the warmth of Sumeru's sunlight. 

Golden danced across his vision, as Alhaitham caught sight of the man that waited outside for him. He stood, looking out into the sky, blessed by the sun and spring, with the wind gently blowing at his robes.

“Shall we head to my place?” Alhaitham called out, 

Kaveh turned, hand on his hip, a relaxed dip to his shoulders, “You are sure about that extra room right?” 

The question was merely an echo of Kaveh’s old insecurities, evident in the confident manner as he gazed up at Alhaitham. 

The latter smiled, in that soft, fond manner that Kaveh found to be directed at him more often than not, and especially when Alhaitham thought that he wasn’t looking. 

“Let’s go,” came the silver-haired researcher’s reply, 

“Alhaitham,” Kaveh called out, earning a pause from the other man as he turned towards him with a soft ‘hm?’ 

“I love you,” he whispered, amber eyes bright with a newfound yearning.

---