Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Placing a hand on his forehead, Alhaitham squinted up at the sky, the harsh sunlight forcing his eyes to narrow into slits. The sun glared down at the sand with an intensity that was impossible to ignore, and a quick assessment of its position revealed that they were already around an hour behind schedule.

It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t unexpected either. With a slight frown, Alhaitham dismissed the thought, knowing there was no point in dwelling on it. Delays were just variables to be accounted for, nothing more.

Or at least they were supposed to be.

“Kaveh, Are you done yet?”

Nearby, he caught a faint hum in response, though the scribe couldn’t tell if the blonde had actually heard him or was just pretending to. With the architect’s usual obliviousness on display, Alhaitham found himself wondering if he should have brought another book along with him—for the sake of his own sanity.

With a grimace, he pulled his cloak tighter around his arms and stared at the ground, sighing. He wasn’t exactly a fan of the desert. To say it was unpleasant would be an understatement.

The dessert was an unforgiving place, harsh and relentless. The weather was unyielding for those who were not used to it, and the skin burned through the layers of clothing. It was a difficult environment to deal with, but it was especially annoying of course, when you were accompanied by someone like Kaveh.

“Move a little to the left, Alhaitham. You are blocking the view!"

The blonde, blissfully unaware of how long the scribe had been waiting, was a few meters behind, meticulously sketching the entrance of a building. His briefcase hovered at his side, scanning the area and capturing every detail of their surroundings.

He seemed to handle the scorching heat with surprising ease, kneeling on the sand with a soft smile on his face. Alhaitham watched as Kaveh drew delicate lines in his notebook, feeling his own irritation ebb slightly. The blonde’s golden hair, usually held up with clips, was now arranged in a makeshift style that somehow suited him, as expected.

Kaveh’s hands paused for a moment as he glanced at the structure, then at Alhaitham, back to the structure, and down to his notebook again. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even notice the scribe’s growing impatience.

Suddenly, the blonde looked up from his drawing and met his gaze. He smiled at him teasingly from where he was, motioning with his hands for him to move away. Alhaitham looked at him bitterly, but silently obeyed, moving from the center of the entrance.

"Just let me do a raw sketch, it will only take a few minutes!" is what he said, and the scribe knew that he shouldn't have accepted his whim. This was the fifth delay so far.

They’d been interrupted by mercenaries, Eremites, merchant travelers, and even tiny foxes that kept following the architect around, hoping for food. Alhaitham tried to avoid getting involved, but Kaveh was always quicker to jump in and offer help. After being dragged along by the arm and threatened with a warning glare, the scribe had little choice but to go along with it. Kaveh, noticing Alhaitham’s reluctant cooperation, silently thanked him for the effort.

He could still see the little foxes that, having followed him all the way, seemed to be waiting cautiously for the architect's return. Kaveh didn't seem to have noticed them, and if he did, he was trying very hard to pretend that he hadn't.

As the minutes passed, and he continued waiting in the sun, Alhaitham became increasingly upset. Having already wasted so much time of the day was wearing out his patience, and the architect seemed to be having a wonderful time ignoring his presence.

"Kaveh, You've been sketching the entrance for 10 minutes."

“I just need to finish the details…”

Releasing a long sigh, the scribe closed his eyes with subtle frustration. He left the blonde behind and walked a little closer to the ruin, until he was just a few steps from the entrance. He extended his gaze to the stone wall and evaluated its structure from top to bottom, looking for any clue that could show information of previous traces.

Initially, Alhaitham planned to carry out the task on his own. After all, the commission was under his charge. The Akademiya had included the report in the pile of documents in his office, and had requested it as an "essential" part of the acting great sage's workload. Strange, to say the least.

In summary, the files they gave him explained that the active remains of an ancient ruin had been discovered about a week ago by a group of eremites. Since there was no prior record of it, a detailed inspection was necessary in order to be studied by the scholars.

The scribe had already read about the procedure for these cases, and he knew that this was a protocol commonly carried out by specialized researchers. He didn't really understand how the commission fitted under his responsibilities, but lately the Akademiya seemed to enjoy giving him jobs unrelated to his duties, giving zero explanations and without the possibility of refusing.

Kaveh opportunely stayed for breakfast when the notification approving the expedition arrived in the mail and, as expected, became overly excited at the idea. Since the blonde never missed an opportunity to study architectural potential, he ended up asking to accompany him with a silly smile on his face. After pestering him for a whole hour, Alhaitham ended up relenting on the condition that, once in the area, he would help with the research.

'I should have seen this coming' He regretted with a sigh as the architect continued tracing thin lines on his sketch. Finally noticing the scribe's annoyance, Kaveh looked at him narrowly and huffed at his unpleasant attitude.

"Stop with the face, and don't rush me. Your regrettable lack of artistic perception is not my fault."

"I'm not saying anything."

"Then stop looking at me like that!”

"Well, It's an inconvenience. I was hoping we could leave this place before midnight, or would you like to sleep in a cave tonight perhaps?"

"Agh! We are not gonna take that long, it's still noon! And I have a meeting with a client tomorrow morning. You don't have to worry, I'm aware of the time."

The scribe looked at his companion skeptically, shifting his gaze to the notebook.

"Clearly your actions don't match that statement."

The blonde closed the book with a loud sound.

"Visual representation is an essential part of every good research, especially when its architecture is so outstanding!"

"I would say It’s quite the opposite for this case. In fact, the Akademiya only requested a technical record of the mechanisms. You would be aware of this information if you had actually read the report.”

"Ugh! You should have started with that!"

Without waiting for a response, the architect hurriedly returned the notebook to his backpack and approached the entrance at a hasty pace. He was soon next to the silver-haired man, who was waiting for him with irritation. Kaveh looked back at him with a little pout, but didn't say anything about it. He had been inspired by the trip and was not in the mood to start another argument with the scribe.

"Okay then, are there any other relevant details I should be aware of before we start?"

“The specifications said that we have to go through the entire ruin and solve the mechanisms, note how they work, and try to deactivate the traps we find, without activating them first, if possible.”

"They want us to find them? How are we supposed to find something designed to be unnoticeable? You're not even from that field of study!"

“I have extensive knowledge regarding ancient mechanisms.”

“Oh right, from books? You know what I mean, Haitham. Why did they assign you this job? Weren't you the Grand Sage?

Surprisingly, Alhaitham for once agreed with the architect’s point. It was illogical to support the akademiya's judgment, but at this point, it did not seem worthy enough to complain. Crouching down, he began to check the first mechanism in front of the entrance, the one he presumed opened it. It seemed to be the simple type, so it didn't take him long to figure it out.

"Just focus on your surroundings and don't get distracted, it shouldn't be that difficult if we're careful."

“Oh sure, you always make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is.”

Once he resolved it, the central area of the mechanism started moving in the correct order by itself, and the door began to open with a slow but steady movement. The scribe raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by the device. Without wasting any more time, he entered at a brisk pace, with the blonde following behind, still a little upset.

"It's not about being careful, Alhaitham. Checking a ruin like this on your own is dangerous. Did they expect you to do it by yourself? It's a terrible idea! You can get hurt, or lock yourself up without anyone knowing where you are!"

“I accepted the commission for a reason, you are overstating the risks. The Akademiya has record of both the commision and the location. It would not take them long to realize the absence of the Acting Grand Sage, they would call the matra in less than 48 hours."

"You would still be stuck here for days! What if you get seriously injured! What if-"

"I'm aware, senior. Are you seriously trying to talk to me about precautions? I'm not the one in debt. Unlike you, I know how to handle a complicated situation without making an impulsive decision."

Kaveh stared at him angrily. Something about the silver-haired man's bitter tone made his blood boil. This brat was so ungrateful! He took the trouble to actually care about him, and this is what he got in return?!

As he tried to think of something to fight back the snarky comment, a sudden realization hit him sharply as a memory from the past came to his mind, a memory from when they were students.

Since the very beginning, Alhaitham has always been the type of distrustful person that never talks about himself. When he met him, Kaveh had to make an incredible effort for him to at least reply back. He never really told the blonde about his parents or family, he only knew that they died when he was little, from what he heard from people. It was only when they were working on the project they undertook together that Alhaitham opened a little towards him.

SInce they were getting closer, Kaveh finally had the courage to ask, and to his surprise, Alhaitham answered him without hesitation.

He still remembered that project vividly. They spent a lot of time together back then, drawing up a plan that would remain eternally unfinished. Still, not everything that came out of that project was a disaster. Kaveh fondly remembered the first time they visited the desert together, searching for ancient transcripts. It was a fun adventure, and he still kept the samples he had taken from that day. For him, it was both a reminder and a memory of great value.

Alhaitham, on the other hand, did not seem to agree with that vision. In fact, he never missed an opportunity to emphasize how useless it was to collect memories in the form of material objects. Although they have already argued repeatedly about it, Kaveh liked to believe that he too kept at least something from their past. Thinking about the gesture made his heart flutter, but he didn't want to keep his expectations that high either. After all, he was talking about Alhaitham.

That brat was now unbearable, but before he used to be so much more shy and sweet with him.

As he held back a small smile, Kaveh couldn't help but miss his cute junior. Alhaitham was so much smaller back then, his face was rounder and most importantly, his personality was much less insufferable.The scribe seemed to notice the change in his expression, and looked at him suspiciously.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. I just remembered some things."

Alhaitham looked at him for a few seconds, and then hummed in response.

Inside the building, the designs were even more wonderful. Kaveh looked at every artistic element, his eyes shining with excitement. He could swear the patterns resembled that of an ancient temple, perhaps a castle? It was the kind you would see in children's picture books. Just like the memory of a dream, a place utterly beautiful, made with true dedication.

He found it really strange that a building as impressive as this had been kept hidden for so long in the desert.

Alhaitham took a notebook from the backpack he carried over his left shoulder, and began to write. Kaveh took the opportunity to wander around a bit, still dazzled by the building.

"Don't go too far, we haven't checked for traps yet."

"Yes, yes, of course, but don't you think it's beautiful?"

"Its beauty is not relevant to the commission. We came to identify how its mechanisms work, it’s not a guided tour."

"Ugh! You're such a bore. Don't you remember when we visited the dessert for the first time? You were so excited that day."

"You mean that time we ended up trapped for hours in one of the rooms because of your insistence?"

"W-what do you mean with “your insistence”?! You were the one who wanted to get inside that ruin in the first place!"

"And you're the one who activated the mechanisms in the wrong order."

"I’am just trying to recall a good memory, okay? You were so expressive back then. What did I do to make you become such an insufferable man?"

"It was my first experience in the desert, I think it's logical that it was of great interest to me. Plus, I wasn't having fun watching you panic, for hours."

"I was trying to get us out of there. It did work!"

“Yes, and it was coincidentally right after you calmed down enough to be able to work together on the mechanics, am I wrong?

Turning to face the scribe, Kaveh snorted, somewhat annoyed with the silver-haired man's resolution. Those were memories that he held dear in his heart, why did he always find something embarrassing to say about him?

"At least I tried to do something! You just gave up and started reading in the corner."

"It was better to save energy. Besides, you never listen to anyone when you panic. I just let you be."

"Oh, how thoughtful. I don't know why I tried talking to a gloomy fungus like you in the first place."

"I’m just stating the facts, and you started bothering me first. We're wasting time."

“Can’t you at least try being nice to me for once? I’m starting to regret coming with you."

"Then focus on finishing the commission so you can get back to the city as soon as possible. You’re already enough of a burden as it is."

Kaveh opened his mouth in indignation but fell silent, his words caught in his throat as he processed the bitter reply. Alhaitham’s cold tone struck him harder than he’d expected, the scribe’s last words hitting like a stake to the chest. Alhaitham glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, noticing, but remained silent. Kaveh wouldn’t have wanted to listen to him either.

Forcing an awkward smile, the architect pressed his lips together tightly, trying to suppress the emotions that were already stinging at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was anger or hurt. It was maybe a mix of both.

“Okay then, this burden is gonna shut his mouth."

With a small wave of his hand, his shiny briefcase materialized beside him, and Kaveh immediately started scanning the patterns on the walls, throwing himself into the task at hand.

"I'll start with the mechanism on the right. Mehrak can check the area first."

As Kaveh moved stiffly toward the nearest mechanism, Alhaitham’s eyes followed him silently. By his reaction, the scribe knew he had crossed a line, and it gnawed at him more than he wanted to admit.

Ignoring his companion, Kaveh forced himself to keep moving, his pride pushing him to maintain his composure. He didn’t want to give Alhaitham the satisfaction of knowing how much his words stung, and as much as he wanted to turn around and confront him, Kaveh knew better than to make a scene. Instead, he focused on getting as far away from him as possible. The further he got from the entrance—and from Alhaitham—the easier it would be to regain his calm.

He couldn't get very far, however, before a sudden and blinding light indicated that something had been activated on the floor he had just stepped on.

Oh no.

"Kaveh-"

The glow intensified in an instant, and the blonde could only manage to cover his face in a fast reflex. Ahaitham rushed to grab his right arm, trying to push him towards the exterior and away from the possible danger of a trap, but It ended up being useless, as neither of them could react in time. It was a matter of seconds for the architect to disappear before the alarmed gaze of his partner.

The strange light went out as quickly as It appeared, and with it, the room was filled with silence, only interrupted by the heavy breathing of the scribe, holding the space of air in where just seconds ago Kaveh was standing.

.-.-

When he woke up, the only thing he could recall was a blinding light, searing his eyes. The first real sensation he registered was the excruciating pain in his head, which made it clear that something had definitely gone wrong after that.

Slowly, the blonde tried to open his eyes, pushing through the dizziness and the pounding pain in his head. As he blinked and took in his surroundings, it became clear that he was no longer in the desert. The room he was in was small and had the unmistakable feel of an infirmary, or maybe a hospital of some sort. Unfortunately for Kaveh, it didn’t take him long to recognize the design of the Aaru Village facilities. With a small groan, he attempted to push himself up from the stretcher he was lying on.

Placing a hand to his forehead, he sighed in defeat. After saying all that stuff about the dangers of the desert, he ended up being the one injured and probably dragged back to the city by the least empathetic person in the entire Tevyat. Great, this couldn't get any worse.

Wait. Where was Alhaitham?

Searching with his gaze, he found the scribe sitting in one of the corners of the room, close to his stretcher, asleep in a rather uncomfortable position and with a half-read book on one of his legs. Under the chair, his briefcase was resting, He guessed she had turned off automatically while waiting.

“He is going to remind me of this for months, it's going to annoy me to death.” the architect thought with irritation. However, his anger didn’t last long. After all, he was the one who had messed up the commission from the beginning. The guilt quickly took over as he thought about the trouble and consequences the scribe might face on his work because of it.

Moving his arms carefully, he tried to sit a little more comfortably. They had connected some kind of IV to his left hand, and the tubes collided against the metal bars of the stretcher, making a horrible sound. He stopped his movement quickly with a pale face, turning his gaze to the silver-haired man. He cursed under his breath as he saw a shift in his posture. Damn it Alhaitham! Why don't you have your headphones on!?

Blinking softly, the scribe woke up quickly, somewhat alarmed by the sudden noise. His eyes widened for a few seconds, after noticing that Kaveh had already woken up. He took a couple of seconds to look at the architect, while the other waited. He seemed to want to say something, but after a while, he straightened up slightly and regained his usual look.

“You are lucky that Tighnari was close to Aaru village. It wasn’t pleasant to ask strangers for medical assistance with the Light of Krashewar passed out on my back”

The scribe spoke in the usual cocky tone, and Kaveh grimaced. His head was already killing him and he was not in the mood for arguing. Without a rebuttal, he simply turned his face away helplessly.

“Did you tell Tighnari what happened?”

Alhaitham looked at him as if he had told one of Cyno's bad jokes.

"I just told you that I had to carry you all over the desert, about half of the village, and what worries you is that Tighnari will know that you fell into a trap?”

“I-It's not just that! I have enough with you making fun of me, I don't want to deal with Tighnari's scolding too!”

"Judging by your current situation, I doubt that Tighnari's reaction should be the type of problem to not deal with. He was quite nervous when he saw you unconscious, so you should appreciate the concern of others and take a better care of your well-being"

The blonde hung his head in shame, the seriousness of the comment making him tense again. He began to move his fingers anxiously under the small sheet that covered him, trying to find the right words to answer. Closing his eyes for a few seconds to gain courage, he looked back up at the scribe with remorse.

“I know you're right. I was careless… and I didn't know that would happen. Thank you, for taking the trouble to carry me here. I know I did nothing but cause you problems today. I'm sorry.”

The silver-haired man softened his gaze upon hearing Kaveh's response. Giving a small sigh, he took the book on his lap and began to leaf through its pages.

"It's my fault too, given my lack of proper precautions. Based on past investigations, other ruins did not seem to have any strange or unknown mechanisms to the Akademiya. The trap in which... you disappeared, does not seem to fit into any of the records, and It's certainly suspicious."

The architect tilted his head, confused.

"W-what do you mean with “disappeared”? I don't really remember anything after that white light, can you tell me what happened?"

"... You don't remember anything after you stepped on the trap?"

Slowly, he shook his head in response, stopping hastily because of the pain it caused him.

"Well, that definitely complicates things. After the trap was activated, I can't point out specifically how, but you quite literally disappeared from the entrance. I would have lost all trace of your location if it weren't for Mehrak, who scanned the whole ruin and found you in a different area, further into the ruin.”

The suitcase, probably hearing its name, let out a couple of beeps, as if confirming the scribe's testimony.

“The mechanisms slowed us down, and by the time we got there, you were locked in one of the rooms, lying on the ground and injured. You didn't react when I tried to wake you up, so I rushed to bring you to the city while I sent Mehrak to contact Tighnari. Some time after arriving at Aaru village, he appeared as if he had gone through a hurricane, and began flooding me with questions.”

Alhaitham put a hand to his forehead and sighed, a little worn out. Kaveh lowered his face, understanding of his drained face. Having to carry him to the city on his own must have been exhausting, and he didn't even want to imagine what it must have been like to face an angry Tighnari.

“Your condition was critical, and there were signs of physical violence. It seems that your hands and legs were tied with ropes, and your skin had some bruises. They didn't let me stay when they examined you. The doctors of the village said that there seemed to be something unknown about your accident, and they really couldn't do anything else but treat your head. Tighnari said he'd go out to get some medicine for the contusion as well. I was hoping you would help your situation by telling us what happened when we parted, but It seems that It’s not going to be possible, for now at least."

Reaching out his hand towards one of the small tables, the scribe took a glass of water and passed it to the blonde. Kaveh acknowledged the gesture with a look and took a sip. The water cleared his throat and helped dissipate some of the nausea.

"...I see. I'm sorry but I don't recall anything of what you are telling me. I don't even remember how I hit my head!… Was I unconscious for a long time?"

Alhaitham turned his gaze to look at the small window in the room. His eyebrows furrowed into an expression that the blonde couldn't fully understand.

"You were unconscious for approximately nine hours. They put stitches on your head, but the doctor told me that he didn't know exactly when you would wake up. Tighnari didn't know what else to say either.”

“W-wait. Nine hours?!! I was out for nine hours?!!”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve said”

The architect shuddered, suddenly aware of the severity of his injury.

He really had to blink several times to absorb everything the scribe was telling him so far. Had the blow to his head been that serious? His brain refused to remember any information that would help him connect dots with this new information. It was scaring him deeply. The dizziness wasn't helping him focus, either. Besides, Alhaitham had not stopped staring at him steadily, which didn't help his composure. The scribe looked at him as if he were a piece of glass about to break. Kaveh didn't like that.

He nervously put his hand to his head, where he felt the most pain. Almost instantly, his hand collided with the bandage he assumed the doctor had placed on the injury. When he removed his hand, a small pinkish stain was left on his fingers. So he was still bleeding, awesome.

As the scribe's words sank in, the true impact of the recent events finally dawned on him, and his mind began to overthink like a machine.

Nine hours was way too long, was it already night? He couldn't see if there was light through the window, the angle didn't allow him to see. How late was it? And when could he leave the hospital? And what was he doing in the hospital?! He didn't have the money to pay for medical expenses! Plus, being unconscious for so long meant that at least the entire day was wasted. He had a meeting in the morning and he couldn't lose it! Maybe they could let him go if-

“Before you try to do anything reckless again, the doctor said you couldn't leave until they confirmed that you don't have an infection. I have already sent a statement to the Akademiya and also notified your client by letter. Your meeting has been rescheduled for next week, so don't even think about it.”

As if a bucket of cold water had been rudely thrown at him, the scribe's words effectively stopped most of his intrusive thoughts.

“Oh… thanks”

“They say that earnest thanks should be given thri–”

“I'm not gonna repeat it!”

Alhaitham smiled mockingly, satisfied with the blonde's reaction. Kaveh snorted at the sarcastic expression. He hated that the scribe always knew what to say to make him look like an idiot. His stupid smirk and his stupid brain, reading his mind as easily as with his stupid books.

With an annoyed look, Kaveh noticed the reddish stains on the scribe’s clothes, and his face quickly changed from anger to concern.

“Have you been here all this time?"

“Did you expect me to leave? The trip back to Sumeru city is long and tiring. Besides, someone's going to have to pay for the medical expenses."

”I see…”

Scanning him from head to toe, the scribe indeed seemed to have the exact same clothes since they left in the morning. He didn't seem to have rested at all either. When his vision focused on his hands, the blonde’s eyes widened as he saw his fingers filled with wounds, some of them bandaged and others exposed.

His blood run cold instantly.

"Your hands, what happened to them?! Why are they so hurt?!"

Ignoring the tubes connected to his arms and hands, the architect reached out to take the silver-haired man's hands, examining the wounds with worry.

Alhaitham looked away, somewhat uncomfortable with Kaveh touching him with so much care.

"The mechanisms of the ruin were extremely old, even if I managed to solve them, some of them didn't even work. Mehrak helped clear most of the routes, but I had to manually force the gears and break the inaccessible areas, and that happened.”

Kaveh stopped his hands to look at him with surprise. Did he get hurt while trying to save him? That was… strangely impulsive of his roommate’s.

He lowered his face back into the damaged hands and gritted his teeth, feeling guilty. The injuries were actually serious, and Alhaitham really wasn’t the type to take such reckless and irrational actions. But on the other hand, a part of him was touched by the scribe's concern. He blushed slightly as he looked back at him, letting out a little laugh.

"I never thought I would see the day when the Acting Grand Sage would voluntarily choose to risk his own well-being for the sake of another. I must be dreaming."

Alhaitham clicked his tongue, moving his hands away from the architect and returning to his book.

“When Mehrak located you, her hologram showed that you were still moving. It was small and limited, but still movement. When we were halfway there, you suddenly stopped, and your briefcase began to let out alarming sounds. It was logical to assume that something had happened, and if you were in a difficult situation, it was a priority to hurry.”

“Is it so hard to accept that you were actually worried?" The architect teased.

"I never said I wasn't, but worry wasn't going to help with the problem. The most efficient thing to do was get to you, and that's what I did."

Kaveh opened his mouth in shock, and he felt his face starting to heat up. At this rate he was probably looking like a tomato, so he managed to bring a hand to his cheek, covering part of his face in embarrassment. The silver-haired man ignored the blonde's reaction, turning the page of his book to keep reading.

Their small minute of silence was interrupted when the door of the room opened, drawing both of their attention. Tighnari came through the door frame carrying medications and bandages. He seemed to be in a hurry, but as soon as he saw the architect he stopped abruptly on his tracks, his long ears straightening in his direction. His face went from surprised to relieved, and from relieved to angry. Kaveh gulped, preparing himself for the scold, but luckily for him, his friend's anger seemed to be directed at the silver haired man.

"Alhaitham, I'm pretty sure I told you to tell me if he wakes up as soon as possible, am I wrong?"

The scribe settled back in the chair, his posture clearly uncomfortable. He closed his book with a whisk of annoyance and gave the blonde a look, as if to say 'look what you got me into'.

“He woke up 3 minutes ago. I had to update him about what happened. Besides, you told me that you were going to bring medicine without specifying your location. It would have been illogical for me to go out looking for you without any idea of where you were. It was more convenient to wait for your return, and considering how quickly you arrived at Aaru village, I didn't think it would take you that long to come back.

Placing a hand to his forehead, Tighnari seemed to hold back an answer that was anything but pretty.

“Of course you didn't. Well, I don't have the time for this."

Keeping his frowned expression, The forest watcher turned his head to focus on Kaveh, and looked him over from head to toe, inspecting him for a few seconds. After confirming that both his wound and bandages looked decent enough, he softened his gaze and breathed a long sigh.

"Kaveh, it's a relief. I'm really glad to see you awake, you had us worried sick. How did this happen?"

The architect shrank on the stretcher, lowering his head. Tighnari looked really worried, his always groomed tail was disheveled and his hair was even worse. Kaveh knew that his friend was always behind his back, looking out for him like a disappointed yet caring mother. and It's not that he wasn't already used to that dynamic, but he was usually too drunk to think about it. Being sober made Kaveh feel awfully conscious and overwhelmed.

"He says he doesn't remember what happened."

"He doesn't remember?"

The architect glanced at Alhaitham, who seemed suddenly immersed into his stupid book. Sinking deeper into the sheets, he tried to apologize, but his hands were already shaking from anxiety. He felt like the absolute worst.

Luckily, Tighnari noticed his distress, and leaving the medicine he was carrying aside, he hurried to sit next to him, extending his arm to gently grab his shoulder in support.

"It's not your fault Kaveh. Alhaitham told me where you were. It was dangerous, and you had no way of foreseeing it. I spoke with the doctor, and although it seems like your wound will heal properly, we still need to be aware of any possible change. How do you feel? without lying."

"Um… My head hurts a lot"

"Okay, anything else besides the obviously painful wound on your head?"

The architect shook his head, and Tighnari nodded as he searched through the medications he had brought.

"I'm going to check the injury and change the bandage, okay? The blood has already passed through it."

“Okay”

Tighnari stood next to the stretcher, and Kaveh brought his head closer, to make it easier for him. Alhaitham remained silent throughout the entire process, occasionally looking up from the pages of his book just to check on the blonde.

“We hooked you up to an IV because the tests showed dehydration. You also had a blood transfusion, so try not to move too much, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Does it look bad?"

"The truth is that it could be much worse, but I still don't understand what kind of blow it had to be to cause such a severe trauma, it's as if you had fallen from 5 meters high and hit directly on your skull"

"Yeah, it hurts like that."

Tignari worked quickly. Despite not being an expert in medicine, the blonde would say that his treatment was even better than Birmastan doctors. He squeezed his eyes shut as the medicine hit the wound, hissing in pain.

"You're lucky the sedatives haven't left your body yet, or we'd have to tie both of your arms before treating you."

“I'm sorry for this mess Tighnari. You shouldn't have come to Aaru village, I know you hate the heat of the desert.”

“I was already near Aaru village when Mehrak found me. I was a little startled, that's all. Please be more careful next time. You too, Alhaitham. It was stupid to undertake such a dangerous mission by yourselves. I hope you are both aware.”

"I told him the same thing." the architect mumbled under his breath. Alhaitham raised his eyebrow.

"I'm not the one hospitalized."

"I know! But it could have happened to you too!"

"It's very unlikely, I would have taken other precautions. Or does it seem like I fell into some other trap when I get you out of the ruin?"

"Ugh!, You insufferable-”

“Ok, that's enough. None of you are going to come out innocent of this accident. Now stop distracting me, I'm almost done.”

Kaveh held the words in his mouth, letting out a snort instead. Alhaitham simply returned to his book. After a few minutes, Tighnari finished dressing his wound and sat down, satisfied with the result.

"It's done. For now, just worry about resting, we don't want to make your injuries worse. The matra is already on its way to the area, Its access will be restricted until the investigations are completed.”

"Ínvestigations? Why is the matra involved?"

The scribe closed his book with a bookmark, and put it back on the table.

"I think I mentioned it to you before, but the nature of this ruin is strange, and certainly atopic from what is known from other expeditions. There is a possibility that this accident had been premeditated. I contacted the Akademiya requesting the matra's intervention for “Security reasons”. They were sent to close the area and prevent more accidents, or at least that's the formal reason. Cyno will investigate the other issue on his own, Tighnari contacted him in private to avoid raising suspicions at the Akademiya."

"P-premeditated? Why would anyone plan this?"

"The commission was placed in my charge. It would not be surprising if someone wanted to attack the position of Grand Sage, especially with the political instability among the darshans and the insecurity towards Lesser lord Kusanali’s new government. Of the specific reason, however, I'm not sure yet. That's why I requested Cyno’s help, he will obtain more valuable information on his position. If my theory is correct, I should refrain from getting involved in the investigation publicly, since they are probably already following my behavior.”

"Okay... that makes sense, but I thought all of Azar's followers had already been arrested. If what you say is true, it’s really worrying to think that it could be anyone in the Akademiya. I don't even want to think about it."

Tighnari got up from the stretcher and took one of the containers of medicine from the table.

"It's a political situation, and a fairly risky one, but I'm sure that Cyno will give us the answers we need, so there's no point in worrying now. Be alert in the city, and don't accept any more commissions for the moment. We agreed that Alhaitham would speak to Lesser Lord Kusanali when you returned, so close the matter until then. I have to return to Gandharva Ville, I left Collei in charge for today but I didn't really tell her what was happening, she must be worried."

Kaveh nodded quickly, imagining how late it must be. Collei must be waiting for his teacher and he didn't want to delay him any longer. Tighnari threw the container he had taken earlier and Alhaitham received it with his book in hand.

"Take those home, they will help with the pain. Make sure he takes them 3 times a day, and he has to eat before. I'll go to Sumeu city to check on him in about a week. There is also an ointment for the wounds on your hands. Use it once a day and it will be enough"

The scribe nodded and continued reading. Tighnari said goodbye to Kaveh with a small smile, and walked out the door.

Being just the two again, the blonde felt uncomfortable. Settling on the stretcher, he lay down in an attempt to sleep, but having the silver-haired man next to him made him nervous. He wasn't going to be able to sleep a wink.

"A-are you going to stay? Sleeping in a chair isn't comfortable at all."

Alhaitham looked at him as if he were tired of having his reading interrupted. Getting up from the chair, he walked towards the exit without looking back at the architect.

"I'll go look for a place to stay for the night. We'll leave tomorrow morning as soon as you're discharged. Don't oversleep."

“I won't!”

The man disappeared through the door and Kaveh sighed.

With a little huff, the blonde took long breaths to calm down and with a little more peace of mind, he drifted off to sleep.

He couldn't explain, in the solitude of the small room, why tears suddenly overflowed from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks.

He closed his eyes shortly, his head pounding even harder, despite the sedative.

It's not like anyone was going to ask him anyway.

Chapter Text

In the morning, everything went more calmly. One of the nurses woke him up while they were checking him. Alhaitham had already arrived by then, the blonde found him sitting in the same chair, reading. Mehrak turned on some time later, already recharged. She went around the room, scanning and making high-pitched sounds. She seemed very happy to see the architect awake.

The doctor came in to give him a couple of prescriptions. Kaveh heard the first part of what he said, but then he got distracted and stopped paying attention.

After the instructions, he was discharged with the condition that he would return to the city accompanied. In a small box, a nurse gave him the jewelry and accessories that she had taken from him when he was admitted. The blonde thanked her kindly and put them on.

When he was ready, he left the medical center to meet Alhaitham, who was waiting for him with two sumpter beasts at his side.

"it will be quicker to come back like this" or at least that's what the scribe told him to avoid making him feel guilty about the additional expense. He still felt bad, but he didn't want to discuss it either. It took them less than an hour to return to the city, and the blonde was extremely tired. The desert heat had only made his nausea worse, and he couldn't wait to get home and take a shower.

They left the beasts near the entrance and walked the rest of the way. The city was always full of people in the morning, but luckily for them, no one stopped them on the way. Some people just looked at them, whispering among themselves. Kaveh assumed that the whispers were due to the bandage on his head, so he didn't think much of it.

Once in the house, the blonde took off his shoes and lay down on the living room couch, exhausted. The scribe left all their things on the table and went straight to his room, the architect listening to him with his eyes closed. He returned just a couple of minutes later, and the blonde opened his eyes to see that he had only changed his clothes. Alhaitham approached him with a blanket and told him that he was going out for a while, Kaveh responded with a gentle nod and accepted the blanket with pleasure. Without giving further details, the man left the house and he continued sleeping.

After the short nap, he reluctantly got up and went to take a bath. He smiled placidly as the cold water ran through his skin. It felt so refreshing on his body that he didn't want to leave the bathroom. Kaveh definitely wouldn't go back to the desert for a while, he's had enough adventure for the next three months.

He scrubbed his body thoroughly, making sure to get rid of all the sand. The bandage didn't allow him to wash his hair properly, but he did his best to clean it and get most of the dried blood. When he was done, he changed his clothes into something more comfortable and headed straight to his room to work on some designs, stopping only when his head started to hurt too much. Alhaitham returned home in the evening and, without talking much, they had dinner together. Kaveh refrained from asking where he had gone, although he assumed that she had gone to speak with Lesser Lord Kusanali, as he had agreed with Tighnari. They both ate in silence until the scribe reminded him to take the medicine. The blonde took them angrily, repeating several times that he hadn't actually forgotten about them. Alhaitham just nodded and continued eating.

"How do you feel?" Alhaitham asked him unexpectedly.

"The pills help with the pain, but the nausea is unbearable," he replied with a wrinkled face.

"It shouldn't last long, try to rest until you feel an improvement"

“...Alright”

Kaveh looked away, somewhat surprised by his concern. His eyes inevitably ended up falling onto the scribe´s hands, still visibly damaged. He shrunk into his chair as he recalled the way they looked before. His eyes wrinkled.

Unlike his, Alhaitham's hands were immaculate, never wounded.

And now they were ruined.

"I mean it, Kaveh. You should rest."

‘Don't look at me like that’ he thought.

“... I should.”

‘Don't act like you care. You shouldn't. It was all my fault.’

Alhaitham watched him with a stern face, but did not press him further. Kaveh thanked him silently, and continued eating.

-.-

On the second day, the blonde didn't leave the house, at the scribe's humble request (order).

It's not like he gave him the opportunity to complain, so he had to spend the entire day working on some past errands and storing progress inside Mehrak. The truth is that he hated wasting the day inside his house. Not being able to make new commissions was terrible for him, but he knew that it wouldn't be the smartest thing to do for now, considering all the political stuff that Alhaitham may be into. Besides, he didn't want Tighnari to kill him for being reckless. Faced with this inevitable path, the architect made an effort to stay productive, despite being locked up.

That day Alhaitham returned earlier than usual, and Kaveh had to endure his stare throughout their day. Although many would say he was exaggerating, Kaveh could swear that Alhaitham was treating him differently. He was being... delicate, with him. It was an unusual amount of care, quite terrifying.

He knew that it wasn’t supposed to be something bad, but it was weird, and he didn’t like it.

They ate dinner in silence, and Kaveh took the pills before the scribe had to remind him.

They didn't argue that day.

-.-

On the third day things seemed to improve for the blonde. Alhaitham was no longer that unnerving, and he let him go to work at the Akademiya. Several students and friends from his darshan stopped him with worry, asking him about the bandage on his head. Kaveh downplayed the injury with a smile, telling them that it had just been a small oversight on his part.

Luckily, The days passed in a hurry, people gradually stopped asking, their usual routine returned, and Kaveh was extremely grateful for it.

There were just a few things that still worried him.

Just like the night in the hospital, there were some moments during his day where his head would begin to hurt uncontrollably, and for no apparent reason. It started during the night, before going to sleep. By the fourth day, It had already spread to the afternoons while working, and even in the mornings, as soon as he tried to get up from bed.

The blonde thought it was rare, but decided not to comment on it for now. He hoped that maybe it would go away in a couple days, but as the couple of days passed, the situation seemed to only get worse. Six days after the accident, while working on one of his old commissions, a sudden chill ran down his spine, and a throbbing pain stabbed him right in his skull, causing him to drop his pencil in fright. Gritting his teeth, he hugged his body tightly, shuddering in cold sweat.

‘It’s going to be fine’ he thought as he closed his eyes and tried to calm the dizziness. He had no way to prevent it, nor did he really know why it was happening, but it was starting to scare him.

After a few minutes, the ache finally stopped, and he raised his hands to check that they had indeed stopped moving. Sighing, he picked up the pencil from the floor and tried to continue working. ‘It’s fine’, he repeated to himself. TIghnari said he would come in a few days, he would let him know what was happening and he would surely give him something to fix it.

‘It's going to be fine’ he repeated to himself as he went back to work.

-.-

Around a week after the incident, Kaveh got out of bed with a sore throat and a bad mood.

He felt his throat was awfully dry this morning, but it was probably due to drinking alcohol the night before. After yawning and stretching his body, he walked barefoot to the kitchen to pour himself some water. On his way to the sink, he checked the calendar on the wall and smiled.

‘Cheer up, Kaveh. Today is going to be a good day’

The date on the calendar marked Sunday, and supposedly both he and Alhaitham had the day off. Thinking about this, the blonde had called Cyno and Tighnari to go out for dinner that night at Lambad's.

Tighnari still had to check on the progress of his wound, so they agreed that they would first stop by their house, Tighnari would leave him some medicine, and then they would go out to the tavern. Kaveh notified Alhaitham of his plans, and invited him to join. Since he had nothing better to do, the scribe agreed on the condition that they wouldn't mess up the house. "I'm going to be the one to clean it all up anyway!" is what the architect had responded, with a loud voice.

After taking a sip of water, he felt some sense of relief in his throat, and sighed. He coughed a little after, still feeling a small itch inside his neck. Focused on the time, he didn't pay much attention to it. Tying his hair in a little bun, he headed straight to the refrigerator to make himself breakfast.

Since he wanted to be ready for their arrival, he made sure to have his agenda clear for today. After all, he just needed to go help the traveler with an errand, and if he had some time left later, he would visit the adventurer's guild to see if there were any quick errands he could do. He didn't want to be late.

Taking a knife from one of the cabinets, he began to slice zaytun peach into pieces to take outside as a snack. For a moment he thought about leaving something for Alhaitham, but he quickly regretted it and grimaced as he remembered the last time he left a snack for him. That asshole didn't even try it! and when he went to confront him for being such a baby, he scribe just said "Are you my mom?" with that stupid bold face.

So ungrateful! Kaveh would never do anything for that idiot again! or at least not for a while, until his anger passes.

Should he take a little for the traveler though? Kaveh knew that the blonde's little companion loved to eat, but isn't bringing fruit too simple? Maybe he should stop by Puspa café on the way, and bring them some dessert. Yeah, that sounded like a better idea.

He tried not to make too much noise with the knife, since he didn't know if his roommate was awake. When he turned to look for a bowl to put the sliced fruit in, he noticed that there was a small note taped to the pantry door. It was a message written in cursive letter, concise and blunt, that said: “I left to attend a meeting. I'll have lunch outside. Since it's your turn to buy food supplies, I left some mora on the living room table for the purchases. Don't buy anything else or I'll add it to your rent."

Kaveh sighed as he re-read the small note for a second time. Well, at least he didn't have to stay silent anymore. He would have preferred a "Good morning" before anything else, but It was Al Haitham he was talking about. Of course it wasn't a decent greeting.

With a small snort, the blonde removed the note and threw it in the trash, already fulfilling its purpose.

'Who cares about his horrible manners? I won't let this affect my mood.'

Taking a small green bowl, the blonde turned to continue cutting his fruit, smiling to himself. Without the scribe around, the architect was used to talking to himself. It helped him keep a mental record of what he was doing, so he wouldn't go off on a rampage and end up ruining his schedule, which almost always happened anyway.

While trying to concentrate so as not to cut himself with the knife, the architect diverted his gaze towards the window.

'It's a nice day' he thought.

The little birds used to stand on the frame in the mornings. This time, a small golden finch appeared to be adjusting its wings. Kaveh looked at him tenderly and smiled, he had liked birds since he was little.

His mother used to sing a tune when she saw them. Before her father's death, it was not unusual to hear her sing in the mornings, with the company of the birds that came to listen to her. The blonde still remembered how she sounded, and felt a little melancholic.

In an attempt to dull the sadness of the memory, Kaveh thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to try singing like she did. In his opinion, he didn't have a bad voice, but he didn't sing often either. Even so, Music had always cheered him up when he needed it.

Getting a little closer to the window, He tried to sing the short melody with his lips when his steps suddenly stopped as his voice was cut off by a strangled yet silent noise. His smile slowly faded, turning into a confused expression. The little finch flew away shortly after.

… Why couldn't he sing the song out loud?

Placing a hand on his neck, the blonde swallowed hard to dispel the uncomfortable sensation that refused to leave his throat. 'What is happening?...' he thought without saying. After taking long breaths, he opened his mouth to try again, but his eyes widened in surprise when he realized that he couldn't even make a tiny sound.

Panic began to take over the architect, his breathing accelerating dangerously.

‘Ok. This is weird. Definitely weird. Clearly this is not a normal symptom anymore.’

He opened his mouth again, screaming his lungs out, but the pain in his cords only seemed stronger, and there was still no sound at all. When he tried for a third time, he could only wince in pain as he coughed violently, in response to the strain.

It didn't feel like simple hoarseness. It was as if his vocal cords had been torn out without warning, leaving a strange emptiness in their place.

He felt dizzy, and hIs head hurted. Archons, this was definitely not normal.

Why couldn't he speak?!

Desperately looking around, the blonde spun around thinking about his next action. Should he call Tighnari? But he was going to come tonight anyway, and his house was too far away to go on impulse. Alhaitham? No chance in hell.

Running to his room, Kaveh changed his clothes as quickly as possible without even taking the time to fix his hair. Taking Mehrak with him, he stormed out of the house, heading towards the Akademiya. What else was he supposed to do? For now he would go to meet the traveler. Maybe he could help him figure out what was happening to him.

As he walked through the streets of Sumeru, the architect tried to breathe to calm himself. ‘Maybe it’s just a symptom of the pills, maybe I just made it worse by drinking, maybe it will go away in a few hours.’ he repeated to himself. Yes, that had to be it, or it wouldn't make any sense. What other reason could explain that he became mute overnight?!

Why was this happening to him?!

His hands started shaking as he moved forward. His steps were accelerated, but the blonde was too panicked to notice. What was he going to do if he couldn't speak? How could he explain this mess to the traveler if he couldn't even talk? Did he even have a notebook with him?!

He was almost halfway there when he realized he was starting to get short of breath. In fact, he was, most likely, having a panic attack in the middle of the street.

´Calm down’ Kaveh said to himself. He did his best to compose himself, but his labored breathing wasn't helping

As he walked up the path to the academy, he let his mind wander. It was close to the house anyway, if he hurried he could arrive in seconds. Some people turned to look at him curiously and Kaveh lowered his head in a quick movement, embarrassed. For now all he could do was pray that the traveler knew what to do. He has traveled a lot in Tevyat, so Kaveh considered him to be quite a wise person.

‘What happens if I never get my voice back?’

As the staring continued, the architect covered his face with one of his hands and tried to run. He didn't want to imagine what people were thinking, they had probably already started whispering among themselves.

After walking away from the crowd, Kaveh looked up slightly to get his bearings. He realized that he was finally at the academy gates, and sighed with relief. There were no longer so many people on the road, and the architect silently thanked the archons as he hurried inside. Once at the Akademiya, he looked everywhere looking for the traveler or his floating companion. 'Where are they?' he thought as he went down and up the stairs, still short of air. He probably would have ended up fainting further down the path if it hadn't been for a hand that, without warning, grabbed his arm tightly and caused him to stop in his tracks.

The surprise made him jump and almost trip over himself. Frightened, the blonde turned his head towards whoever had stopped him, wrinkling his teary eyes as he saw the last person he wanted to see.

In front of him, Alhaitham looked at him with a complicated expression.

"Kaveh? Why are you running around like crazy?"

The blonde did not want to, nor could he, explain himself at the moment. With strong pushes, the architect tried to break free from his grip with a pull, but Alhaitham was stronger. Powerless against his strength, Kaveh’s vision began to blur out of frustration, the lack of air only growing worse with each second.

"Kaveh, stop pushing and tell me what's wrong, Why are you like this?"

The blonde stared at him desperately, and then, out of nowhere, a sharp pain shot through his head, making him shut his eyes close. He winced at the throbbing pain as his mind was suddenly flooded with fragments of a memory. Blurry images of the accident in the desert rushed back, crawling into his thoughts with a force that nearly took his breath away. He wasn’t prepared for this, not now, not when he still didn’t know how to make sense of it all.

Kaveh's chest tightened, and he gasped for breath, clawing at Alhaitham's cloak with one hand and pointing frantically to his own throat. Alhaitham frowned, even more confused, and the blonde clenched his fists in frustration. He tried to mouth words, exaggeratedly moving his lips, desperate to make Alhaitham understand, to explain everything somehow. But after a few agonizing seconds, all that escaped was a choked sob, followed by ragged breathing. Defeated, the blonde pressed his lips together and buried his face in his hands, feeling utterly helpless.
The scholars who were nearby seemed to notice the commotion and turned to look at them. Kaveh, realizing it, began to hyperventilate. Alhaitham noticed his distress and narrowed his eyes in deep concern. Grabbing the architect by the waist, he tried to stabilize him with his body as he watched his knees buckle. Covering him with his cloak, he gently pushed him by the hip and guided him towards the House of Daena. Kaveh allowed himself to be escorted, his face still covered by one of his arms.
"Breathe, Kaveh. It's okay, calm your breathing first."

The scribe took him to a corner and covered him from view with his body. Once they were out of the spotlight, Kaveh dropped to the ground, gently crashing into the floor while Alhaitham still held him. Sitting on his own legs, the architect closed his eyes and let out a quiet sob, finally breaking down from the panic and stress of the entire situation. Kneeling in front of him, the scribe brought his hands to his face and carefully removed his trembling arm. Kaveh turned his face almost immediately and avoided his gaze in shame. Alhaitham did not press him further.

"Follow my breathing, okay? Don't rush, it's okay."

Wiping away the tears that fell from his cheeks, the scribe waited patiently. The architect let himself be pampered by his soft touch, and after a few minutes, he finally calmed down, steadying his breathing and focusing his vision on him. After a couple seconds, he finally looked up at the scribe and stared into his eyes with a pained face, his cheeks and nose still tinted pink. Alhaitham didn't really know how to help, as Kaveh was looking at him as if asking for help, but without saying anything to explain.

They stayed in silence for a while, only accompanied by the other’s presence. The architect seemed to relax a little, taking deep breaths. The scribe stood up carefully, and extended his hand towards the blonde, indicating for him to follow him. With some hesitation, Kaveh took his hand and stood up.

"Why are you like this? I was waiting for you, actually. The traveler spoke to me a few minutes ago. They told me that you were coming to the Akademiya for a commission, but due to an inconvenience, they had to cancel it. They left in a hurry and asked me to notify you.”

Alhaitham didn't let go of his hand, worried that the question would cause him to panic again. The architect was surprised, and seemed to think for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. After a while, he nodded his head. Searching with his gaze, he ended up pointing in the direction of the exit and then clasping his hands above his head, as if he were making the gesture of a roof. Alhaitham wrinkled his eyebrows, bewildered by the blonde's behavior.

Signs? Was it some kind of game?

Kaveh continued repeating the gestures, each time with more impatience. Alhaitham assumed that he was trying to tell him something with those signs, but why?

"The house? Do you want to go back to the house?"

Relieved, the blonde nodded repeatedly as he pointed to his throat once more. With a subtle shift, he let his hand fall from the folds of his robe and started walking toward the direction he had indicated earlier. The silver-haired man followed him with piqued curiosity, and his mind started working to unravel the cryptic game the architect seemed to be playing.

It struck him as odd—this sudden silence, this abrupt change—but even as the thought stirred within him, he kept it unspoken, hanging in the air like an unasked question.

He wasn't used to this kind of silence. Not from kaveh.

As they walked down the street, the scribe couldn’t resist probing further, his voice cutting through the quiet as he asked him about what happened. The blonde’s eyes flicked away, evasive, and his gaze drifted to the side, where it stayed, mute and unsteady.

---

The walk back to their house was silent, and Alhaitham was still trying to decipher the blonde's strange behavior.

After a while, he gave up with the questions and kept walking, his footsteps echoing in the stillness as he felt the silence that hung heavily around them—a silence that felt unnervingly unlike Kaveh.

From the outside, it looked as though he had finally calmed down. Alhaitham watched him wipe away the last of his tears with his sleeve and straightened up. He seemed composed, almost serene, but there was an underlying tension in the way he held himself, a stiffness that suggested that the storm inside him was far from over. An observer might not notice the pain hidden on his face. It was almost as if nothing had happened, and the scribe couldn't help but frown at the sight. For him, the blonde's discomfort was still evident.

Keeping the same pace, He shifted his gaze towards him on several occasions, looking for something that would give him some kind of clue.

Had something happened at his work? He didn't remember any relevant events, or any customers that Kaveh had complained about. As far as he knew, the blonde hadn't started any new projects, given the current situation with the Akademiya. What was it then?

Whether it was by the subtle change in his gaze, or the way his voice trembled, Al Haitham was used to predicting the architect's outbursts. Whether directed at him or at another nuisance, the blonde had always been a sensitive and expressive person, and it wasn't unusual for his problems to become unbearable to handle. He would spill over his distress in one way or another, either in his work, or in the tavern. Al Haitham was used to that behavior, and he would carry him back home every time. He would sit next to him with a book in hand, and he would listen to him complain about anything he wanted.

What was he supposed to do if he suddenly refused to talk to him?

Kaveh eventually noticed his gaze, and turned his face quickly. Letting out a small snort, he raised his right arm and roughly wiped his face with his sleeve.

'Stop looking at me like that, you brute' is what he should say to him. Alhaitham waited for some comment, but received nothing.

Strange.

Once they arrived at their house, the blonde hid behind the scribe’s cloak and made a gesture with his hands, probably hurrying him up. Alhaitham looked at him with a dry face, and sighed as he took out his keys. He was aware of his Kaveh´s unsettled gaze, so he preferred to stay quiet and not worsen his distress.

The scribe opened the door calmly, and the architect hurried inside. Before Alhaitham could stop him, the blonde was already midway to his room. Frowning, Alhaitham closed the door behind him and followed him at a brisk pace. He still owed him an explanation, and he wouldn't let him get away with it that easily.

"Kaveh" he called, as he headed to his room.

He reached the door frame and bumped into him, as he had tried to rush out of the room at the same time. From the impact, Kaveh took a few steps back and grimaced. In his hands he carried one of his notebooks, the ones he uses to draw ideas for his new projects, and a pencil.

Alhaitham stood still, crossing his arms in front of his roommate.

"Well? I'm waiting for an explanation."

Kaveh looked at him with annoyance, and showed him the notebook as if it were obvious. The scribe raised his eyebrow, still confused.

Sighing, the blonde shifted his eyes to the side repeatedly, signaling for him to move out of the way. Still hesitant, Alhaitham let him pass and followed him closely.

The blonde walked towards the living room, sitting on one of the armchairs and placing the notebook on the table. Alhaitham sat next to him, waiting for his next action. Without saying anything, Kaveh began to write in the notebook.

"...Just what are you doing?"

Is this supposed to be a silent treatment?

Since he received no response, the scribe had no other choice but to wait to see what his roommate would write. Alhaitham wasn't sure of why he was writing such a long text, but the architect took a lot of time. Once he finished, he turned in his direction with the notebook in hand, offering it to him.

The scribe received the notebook with a skeptical look, to see what he had written. Despite the shaky pulse, the architect's handwriting looked impeccable and quite stylish.

— This is difficult to explain, but I think I've lost my voice overnight. Please don't think that I went crazy, but I swear that since this morning I simply couldn't speak.
Its not just a sore throat. Believe me, i know how they are. This feels completely different.
I don't know what's happening, or why it's happening, so I was panicking a while ago. Sorry for the fuss, it was embarrassing. Do you think it could be a side effect of the medication? I need to ask Tighnari if I'm dying, or something. Isn't this super weird? —

Alhaitham reread the message with narrowed eyes, making sure he understood it correctly. With a hand on his chin, he looked up at the blonde, thinking.

"Kaveh... You simply can't lose your voice from one day to the next, or at least not without a congruent reason. Also, I haven't known of any side effects that resemble aphonia. Do you think Tighnari would be willing to give you something like that?"

The architect's face changed to a more thoughtful one, and he nodded gently. He seemed much less anxious after hearing his response.

"Hmm... That explains your sudden muteness. Are you sure you haven't done anything out of the ordinary? What you're describing sounds quite exceptional. The only thing that comes to mind is that the effect has something to do with your accident on the dessert. It could also be alchemy, or some elemental distortion caused by an accident. Have you come into contact with any ley lines recently? Any project involving elemental energy?

Crossing his arms, the blonde shook his head repeatedly. Alhaitham stared at him, gathering his thoughts.

'If anyone at the Akademiya sought to silence him, they are already aware of what we know. What are they trying to cover up with this...? '

The scribe frowned.

"Just when I thought you'd learned to stay out of trouble, you manage to get yourself into this kind of... situation. You never cease to surprise me, senior, really."

Kaveh opened his mouth, clearly upset at the comment. He definitely tried to answer him heartily, but the sound got stuck in his throat, preventing any response. Letting out a loud snort, he snatched the notebook from his hands and wrote quickly.

– Stop bothering me and help me fix it!!! –

Unlike the first time, his handwriting this time was messy and aggressive. The scribe smirked, amused by his reaction. It was certainly nice to have a break from his noisy roommate's yelling.

"And why should I? I must say, I could get used to this."

Giving him a light smack on the arm, Kaveh showed his annoyance. Alhaitham would have continued to tease him if it weren't for the clear anguish in the blonde’s eyes. Pressuring him so much was not a good idea.

"Well, this is certainly an anomalous event, but you won't die. Tighnari was coming to the house today, right? It would be appropriate to tell them about it. Any other strange symptoms?"

The blonde denied again, intertwining his fingers nervously.

"Let's wait then." He said as he got up in search of a book to entertain himself with, After all, they both had the day off.

Kaveh sat there, thinking carefully. After a while, he got up to go to his room, taking the notebook with him.

No words were exchanged, but the scribe understood that the architect would need some time to assimilate his current state. He looked back at his book and continued reading, his sound-cancelling headphones off, just in case.

'It'll be quiet for today' is what he thought as he turned the pages.

-

Cyno and TIghnari arrived in the afternoon, at the time they had agreed upon. The architect was already waiting for them, moving his pencil nervously from one side to the other. He had written several things in his notebook, to get ahead of their questions. Hearing the knock on the door, he left his desk in a flash and, taking a deep breath, gathered all his courage.

Tighnari was going to kill him, that was for sure.

He opened the door with an anxious smile and his friends, as always, greeted him warmly. This was usually the part where Kaveh would welcome them with some cheerful comment. A comment that he was currently “unable” to do. Without knowing how to avoid the awkward silence, the blonde tried to act normal with a simple gesture, moving slightly away from the door and extending one of his arms to invite them in.

He hoped that they wouldn't notice his silence so fast, but unfortunately for him, their expressions shifted almost immediately. Seeing that the blonde wouldn't say anything, they played along and entered, still a little puzzled.

Kaveh felt like a terrible friend. His friends had barely arrived, and the atmosphere was already tense, great. The architect closed the door behind him with a quiet sound and followed them, sighing in defeat.

Tighnari walked inside, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he looked at Kaveh.

"...Is everything alright, Kaveh? You're quieter than usual."

"Yeah, you're never this silent," Cyno chimed in, crossing his arms.

Sensing their concern, Kaveh nodded his head repeatedly and quickened his pace, leading them to the living room. He gestured for them to wait before hurrying off to his room, but on the way, he stopped by Alhaitham's bedroom and gave the closed door a hard kick, loud enough to be heard over the scribe's headphones.

He really needed Alhaitham to get his ass out of his room. Sure, he wasn’t the most reliable ally, but he had a knack for acting like a know-it-all and using his fancy words. With Alhaitham's help, maybe he could dodge some scolding from Tighnari, or at least share the blame. He wouldn't mind that too much.

“Did you guys fight again or something?” Cyno called out from the living room, probably hearing the kick.

"Cyno, that's a terrible guess," Tighnari replied, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "When something happens between those two, Kaveh is always the last one to stay silent."

.-.-

Since the morning's events, Kaveh and Alhaitham haven't really seen each other throughout the day.

Kaveh, still in denial, threw himself into his work and locked himself away in his room. Alhaitham, true to his usual style, didn’t bother to interfere with the blonde’s odd ways of coping.

The architect heard him leave and come back sometime around noon. Not long after, there was an unexpected knock on his door, causing him to almost jump out of his chair. "I brought you food from Lambad's. It's on the table." it's what he said, his voice cold, distant, and completely devoid of affection.

That was the last he heard from him, and until his friends arrived, Kaveh did an excellent job of deceiving himself.

Now, they were all sitting in the living room, with cups of tea in hand and his notes scattered all over the living room table.

Who would have thought that his day would end like this? This wasn't a part of his "day off" plan.

Tighnari was reading the notes carefully, with Cyno peeking over his shoulder. The blonde watched him harden his gaze in silence, his hands dancing nervously on his legs.

After a few seconds, the first one to say something was his long-eared friend, his worry very evident in his stare.

"...Alright. So, from what I’m reading, Kaveh hasn’t been able to talk since this morning," he paused, trying to piece it all together. "It happened out of nowhere, and for now, there’s no reason behind it, right?"

Taking the cup of coffee he’d made, Kaveh nodded gently and avoided eye contact with his friend. Not that he could add anything else in his estate.

He looked to the side anxiously, and found Alhaitham, sitting next to him while reading one of his boring books. From what little Kaveh could see, the cover seemed to be about elemental mastery, but the scribe’s hand covered most of the title. Sensing his stare, Alhaitham glanced up, one eyebrow raised. Kaveh widened his eyes a bit, silently pleading for something useful to come out of his roommate’s mouth. But instead, Alhaitham’s lips curled into a tiny, almost smug smile before he looked back down, flipping a page and completely ignoring the blonde’s request. Kaveh huffed at him and clenched his fist, fighting the urge to punch that smug expression off his stupid face.

The room remained silent for another long minute. Cyno, who had remained quiet until now, looked at the architect for a moment, his expression unchanging.

“It explains the awkward greeting. We are certainly speechless at the news.”

Everyone stared at him, taking in the horrid joke, and Tighnari's expression softened into a grimace. The general’s attempt at humor didn’t land; instead, it seemed to weigh down the already heavy atmosphere.

"Get it? The irony is that Kaveh is the one who cannot speak, but we are the ones speechless at the–"

"Yes Cyno, we get it." Tighnari interrupted him as he stood up from his chair. "What I don't get is how we have no clue to explain your sudden inability to speak."

Moving closer to Kaveh, Tighnari leaned in, carefully removing the first layer of gauze from Kaveh’s head to examine the wound, his face tightened into a frown. The blonde flinched a little at the cold touch, but the medication dulled the pain enough to keep him still.
The room remained tense and quiet, and each second stretched painfully as they waited for his long-eared friend to finish. After a couple minutes, he let out a soft huff, finally breaking the silence.
"...It doesn't make sense, the wound seems to be healing well..."

Tighnari’s ears drooped as he took off the rest of the gauze. Unable to reassure his friend, Kaveh stayed rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the floor. The other two, who seemed to sense the tension in the air, observed quietly. Cyno began arranging the papers on the table while he waited. Tighnari didn't seem like he was in the mood for jokes.

"The medication I gave you, have you been taking it?"

Kaveh opened his mouth to answer that he did, but remembering his state, he raised his hand and gave a thumbs up, careful not to disrupt his friend's examination.

Tighnari noted the gesture and squinted slightly. Once he finished checking the injury, he rewrapped the bandage and grabbed the architect's cheeks tightly, squeezing his face and opening his mouth.

Alhaitham, without looking up from his book, seemed suddenly involved. “Do you have any expertise in laryngology?”

"Not really. Just general knowledge and experience. I'm pretty sure I'd notice an abnormality in his throat if he had it."

The Amurta graduate carefully checked his mouth, moving his jaw in different directions. After a few seconds, he let out another sigh and finally released the blonde's jaw. Kaveh pouted lightly, while rubbing his sore cheeks. He looked frustrated.

"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong. I can't sense any kind of elemental trace on you, your throat looks good and the medication I gave you seems to be working pretty well on the injury. I don't understand."

Alhaitham closed his book and tossed it to the side. "I was reading in the House of Daena, about the loss of voice. One of the causes described was the consumption of harmful substances, such as alcohol."

Tignari's hand lingered at his chin, fingers brushing his skin as he considered the implications of the scribe's suggestion. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, a clear indication of concern gnawing at him that everyone else in the room could see. After a couple seconds, he finally closed his eyes and gave a quick shake of his head.

“No, It would be unlikely. As much as I don't agree with Kaveh's alcohol consumption, the level of excess to cause aphonia is extreme. Besides, it wouldn't be as sudden. This diagnosis does not seem to follow the natural medical symptoms, or at least the throat would show us something. Still, I am not a doctor, so we should go to Bimarstan as soon as possible.”

“It’s a good thing we’re all here, then. We can go now and help explain your situation to the doctors,” Cyno said, getting up from the couch.

Alhaitham glanced over at Kaveh, already anticipating his reaction. The others followed suit, concern etched on their faces. Kaveh forced a nervous smile, his eyes darting to the floor. With unsteady hands, he grabbed the notebook from the table, and scribbled something quickly.

The room went quiet as everyone waited. When he finished, Kaveh handed the notebook to Tighnari, his face flushed with embarrassment. Alhaitham caught a glimpse of something else in his eyes—bitterness, maybe, or frustration. Whatever it was, it was definitely there.

Tighnari read the note and frowned. He passed the notebook to Cyno, crossing his arms.

“Kaveh, you can’t just avoid seeing a doctor with symptoms like these. There’s clearly more going on, right? I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

Alhaitham got up and walked over to Cyno, glancing at the notebook, which had just a couple of lines:

— We can't go to Bimarstan, it's too soon. If we give it time, everything will surely return to normal. If it doesn't get better, I can go alone, but please, we were supposed to go out tonight and have fun, not this.—

"Kaveh, we can't just pretend everything’s fine when you're like this. We need to figure out what's happening." Tighnari’s ears flicked as he looked at Cyno, asking for support. "Besides, you’d never go to Bimarstan on your own. You don’t even go when you’re sick.”

Alhaitham seemed lost in thought, moving a little closer to Kaveh as if trying to read his mind. But Kaveh avoided his gaze, looking at anywhere but him.

It was a weird reaction, Alhaitham noted, but if Kaveh was hiding something, he wouldn't spill it with everyone hovering around.

Cyno handed the notebook back to Kaveh, his tone firm. “If your condition is in any way related to the desert accident, we could be dealing with a serious crime. We have to figure this out, or it could get worse for you."

Kaveh winced at the tone in Cyno’s voice, his shoulders hunching defensively. Alhaitham noticed the slight movement, and the way Kaveh’s fingers clenched around the notebook, knuckles turning white. It was clear that he understood the concern, the gravity of the situation. Yet, there was something holding him back, something that kept him from being completely honest.

Just what was it?

Tighnari, sensing Kaveh's reluctance, frowned, his frustration evident. He knew Kaveh well enough to tell when he was hiding something. And right now, that familiar uneasiness crept into Tighnari's chest, a gut feeling that there was more to this story than Kaveh was letting on.

Before the tension could escalate any further, Alhaitham stepped in, hoping to defuse the situation before Kaveh’s nerves frayed any more. “It’s futile to try to reach a conclusion now. I’ll take Kaveh to Bimarstan when it’s necessary, but we have to be smart about this. The investigation about the accident in the desert is still ongoing. If we show up at Bimarstan now with Kaveh in this state, it could tip off whoever’s behind this.”

Kaveh glanced up at Alhaitham, relief flickering in his eyes. He knew Alhaitham was right; there was no telling what kind of attention a trip to Bimarstan might draw. It could alert the very people who’d put them in danger in the first place.

Alhaitham continued, his voice calm and measured. “For now, is best if we keep this between us. No one else needs to know about Kaveh’s condition until we have more information. They will surely think that Kaveh will not be able to communicate his situation in this state, and if that is what they are trying to achieve, they better continue to believe it. The last thing we want is to give away our advantage before we even know what we’re up against.”

Cyno nodded, understanding Alhaitham’s point immediately. He didn’t like keeping secrets from the matra, especially not about something as serious as this, but he knew better than to ignore the strategic advantage they might need.

Tighnari hesitated, his eyes lingering on Kaveh. He could see how stressed the architect was, and his own worry gnawed at him, but he also knew Alhaitham made a good argument. They needed to tread carefully, and they couldn't risk his friend even more. With a reluctant sigh, Tighnari nodded as well. “Fine. But Kaveh,” he said, his voice softening, “if things get worse, you have to promise you’ll let us know. Don't keep it to yourself, we’re all in this together, okay?”

Kaveh nodded, trying to muster a smile to reassure his friend. He was thankful, really, but his mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts he couldn’t voice. There was a part of him that wanted to tell them what he remembered, to lay it all out in the open. But every time he tried, something held him back—something hidden deep in his mind, something he couldn’t quite put a name to.

Alhaitham watched him closely, leaned against the living room wall and glancing at the others with a casual expression. “Alright,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “We can’t do anything about this right now. If you want, you can stay here and drink something. Even if we don't go out, we still have things to talk about.”

Cyno perked up at the idea, his voice brightening with enthusiasm. "We could play a few rounds of TCG too, and Kaveh doesn’t need to talk to join in."

A small smile tugged at Tighnari’s lips, seeing Cyno’s eagerness. “Alright, let’s do it. I guess staying a bit longer wouldn’t hurt.”

Kaveh’s eyes lit up, grateful that their day wasn’t entirely ruined by his situation. He nodded eagerly, a spark of excitement in his gaze, and hurried to his room to grab his deck of cards.

They spent the next few hours engrossed in the game, light conversation flowing easily between them, punctuated only by Cyno’s notoriously dry jokes. Despite everything, the atmosphere became lighter, more relaxed, and for a little while, Kaveh almost forgot about his inability to speak. Whenever he lost, he would make the same dramatic faces as usual, and when Alhaitham made a snide remark, a playful punch was all he needed to get his point across.

It wasn’t so bad, Kaveh thought. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as difficult to get used to as he had feared.

As the evening wore on and the sky outside turned into a deep shade of indigo, Tighnari finally interrupted Cyno’s winning streak, putting his cards back on his Casket of Tomes. “We should head back. It’s getting late, and we’ve got a long trip back to Avidya Forest.”

The general seemed a little sad to stop playing, but he too began to gather his things.

Alhaitham nodded and stood up. “I’ll walk you two out. Kaveh, wait here for a moment.”

Kaveh nodded and he waved goodbye cheerfully, lifting up the empty glasses scattered across the table. As soon as the door closed behind them and he was alone, he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

His mind drifted back to the events of the morning, the memories of the desert incident swirling in his head like a half-remembered dream. The fear, the panic, the sharp pain—he could still feel it all, a dull throb behind his temples. No, they couldn’t know about this. Not yet.

Kaveh placed the glasses in the sink and turned on the faucet, letting the cool water run over his hands as he absentmindedly scrubbed all the dishes. He only remembered bits and pieces of what had happened out there, fragmented images and sensations that didn’t quite make sense. And if what he suspected was true, if the truth was as dangerous as he feared, he couldn’t drag his friends into it—not until he was sure.

He’d try to figure it out on his own first, investigate quietly without drawing too much of Alhaitham's attention. Once he had a clearer idea of what was going on, he would decide what to do next.

Yeah, that’s what he’d do.

Kaveh nodded to himself, determination hardening in his chest as he placed the last glass on the drying rack. It was safer that way—for all of them.

When he finished washing, he dried his hands on a towel and glanced around the quiet kitchen, taking a moment to steady his breathing. He looked down at his fingers and pressed his lips together, remembering the wounds on Alhaitham's knuckles.

There was still so much he didn’t understand, but one thing was certain—he wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of him.

Just as he was turning to leave the kitchen, the door creaked open, and Alhaitham stepped back inside the house, alone. He left his keys next to the door and approached the kitchen. His expression looked indifferent at first, but his eyes were sharp, watching Kaveh closely. “They’re on their way,” he said, his voice steady. “Did you manage to relax a little?”

A little surprised by the question, Kaveh nodded, smiling softly in gratitude.

Alhaitham seemed to study him for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Good,” he finally said, slowly walking to his room “Because I have a feeling things are going to get more complicated from here on out. And we’ll need to be ready for whatever comes next.”

Kaveh gave a small, hesitant smile, appreciating his words. He wanted to be more relaxed, to take Alhaitham's advice to heart, but his thoughts were already tangling and twisting together again, like a knot tightening in his chest.

He heard the door of Alhaitham's room close, and for a moment, he felt like crying. The weight of everything that had happened, everything he still didn’t fully understand, pressed down on him abruptly.
Taking a deep breath, he moved to the living room and began collecting all the papers scattered around the table. His movements were slow, methodical, almost as if he were trying to calm his racing thoughts through the simple task. As he tidied up, he found himself staring at one of his scattered notes. It was the rough sketch of the ruin they visited in the desert—the one he’d been avoiding since the accident.

His mind began to produce the blurry images again. People he didn't know, hands tied around a stone pillar, pain, throbbing pain in his head… and a knowledge capsule—that was the part that scared him the most.

He picked up the paper and studied it for a long moment, feeling a strange mix of dread and determination welling up inside him. He knew very little about knowledge capsules, Alhaitham was more interested in them than him, and he did some research on them a while ago, given the numerous incidents with its use. He didn't pay much attention, really, but if he had retained one thing, it was that the connection with Irminsul seemed to drive people crazy. That wasn’t really a good starting point. The blonde still remembered the concern he felt for his colleagues that time. What if they did use it on him?

Kaveh placed the sketch back down on the table, turned off the lights and headed to his room. Tomorrow, he would go to the House of Daena and dig deeper into the information he needed. He just hoped, for once, that time would be on his side this time.

Chapter Text

It had been about two weeks since the last meeting at Alhaitham's house, and Kaveh was gradually settling into the new schedule that came with losing his voice so suddenly.

In truth, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected it to be. At first, the silence was terrifying, and it made him feel as if someone had forcibly taped his mouth shut. But as the days went by, and he began to get used to it, the quiet became less of a threat and more of a constant companion, something he could learn to live with. It forced him to find new ways to communicate and to think more carefully about how he expressed himself. It still felt strange, like a part of him was missing, but it wasn’t unbearable.

He’d spent the last few days tinkering with Mehrak, adding new functions to help him respond to simple questions. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something to start with. Still, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake his frustrations at work. Being unable to voice your thoughts was extremely painful, especially as an architect. It wasn't long before Kaveh began missing the back-and-forth of conversations, and the lively discussions that sparked creativity and pushed his ideas further.

Even though he wasn’t allowed to start any new projects yet—something that gnawed at him every day—working on the ones that were still pending felt like walking through mud. He couldn’t engage with his work the way he used to, and instead of feeling inspired, he felt like he was just going through the motions, just fulfilling the agreements made with the clients.

Kaveh wasn’t the kind of person who could just sit back and let things happen. He wanted to feel passionate about what he was doing, to pour his heart into every detail. But now, with every idea trapped inside his head and no way to express it, he felt like he was losing a part of himself. And he hated it more than anything.

Alhaitham, on the other hand, seemed to be following his routine as Acting Grand Sage without much visible change. He would leave early in the morning for work, sometimes without even saying goodbye, and the blonde would just put up with it, as always. Despite having little interaction, Kaveh had become more observant, and even with that expressionless face of his, Kaveh started picking up on a few odd details in the scribe's behavior. All of a sudden, he started coming home more often to have dinner, and he talked a lot more, which was unusual. He would even start the conversation on his own sometimes, asking him how his projects were going or if he had eaten anything throughout the day—things that, in the past, he wouldn’t have bothered asking.

Kaveh wasn’t sure what had prompted said changes, but he couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of happiness at their improved relationship. Without his voice, their interactions had somehow softened, the constant bickering had lessened, and while Kaveh knew he shouldn’t feel too content about this—it was the result of a serious condition, after all—he couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic. It reminded him of how things had been between them before the fallout, before everything became so complicated. It was nice.

The scribe, attentive to Kaveh's behavior, also noticed certain differences in his habits. The blonde had become more expressive than before, smiling broadly when he was happy and scrunching up his face when something in particular bothered him. It was curious to see him wandering around the house silently, but now instead of shouting, he would now get Alhaitham's attention by tapping on things, the strength of the sound depending on his mood. Just as expected, the range could go from gently knocking on the table during dinner, to nearly kicking the door down when Alhaitham refused to clean up the dishes.

There was a surprising warmth in these interactions. The way Kaveh’s expressions lifted up the atmosphere had a calming effect on Al Haitham, giving him a subtle comfort in their quiet communication. Still, he tried to avoid getting too comfortable with it—he wanted Kaveh to regain his voice soon, after all.

Cyno visited occasionally as well, keeping both of them updated on the progress of the investigation. From what he remembered, It seemed to be going well. After several days of surveillance and following leads, the general finally uncovered the identity of the person who had requested the commission that led to the desert incident. It was a professor from the Akademiya who had somehow managed to climb the ranks and became a sage. The professor's true intentions were still unknown, as were the number of people he was working with and how dangerous he might be, but Cyno seemed optimistic. He believed that with a well-laid trap, it would only be a matter of time before they could make him testify.

Alhaitham appeared pleased with the progress of the case; Kaveh could tell. He knew better than anyone how stubborn the scribe could be, and he was sure that he was also pulling strings within the Akademiya, quietly working behind the scenes to uncover more information. Kaveh was really grateful to both Cyno and Alhaitham for their efforts, but he was also worried. He couldn't help feeling like he was running out of time, and the longer this investigation dragged on, the more anxious he became.

Tighnari also made frequent visits, primarily to check on Kaveh's condition, and to ask if there had been any changes. Each time, the blonde would shake his head, trying to hide his frustration. The questions were always the same, but the answers never changed. Despite all the care and attention from his friends, the progress on his recovery felt stagnant, but Tighnari did not stop looking for an improvement.. Each visit came with a new medicine, and each medicine with a worse taste than the previous one.

Of course, Kaveh had also been investigating on his own. He spent hours combing through every scrap of information available about knowledge capsules, poring over endless texts in the Akademiya. After all that effort, he was left with more questions than answers.

It just didn’t add up. The contents of knowledge capsules were supposed to be directly linked to the Akasha Terminal, yet he no longer even had one. Since Alhaitham and the Traveler had overthrown Azar and freed Lesser Lord Kusanali, the use of the Terminals had been banned. If he considered that, the encapsulated knowledge should have been rendered inert, unable to function at all. And yet, the fragmented memories of that desert incident still haunted him—fuzzy, disjointed, like a half-remembered nightmare. Every time he tried to focus on them, the images grew sharper, but with each new detail, a deep sense of wrongness came with it. There was something out of place, something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface of his mind.

None of it made sense.

Knowledge capsules weren’t supposed to cause harm, at least not like this. The Traveler had spoken about them before, describing how they had been used without any real complications. Kaveh himself had used them in the past, but there was something different about the one he recalled now. Something about it set off alarms deep within him, instinctively urging him not to probe too far into it. It was as if a part of his mind had been forcibly locked away, hidden from him without his consent. Every attempt to access those memories made him feel like he was brushing up against some unseen barrier, and that barrier seemed to grow stronger the more he tried to break through it.

He had never read anything that suggested knowledge capsules could cause such severe side effects—let alone something as drastic as taking away his voice. It was strange, really strange, but he knew that he needed to find out more before he could share his concerns with anyone else. He already had a theory—a wild, catastrophic theory—and if his suspicions were correct, the situation was far more dire than he could handle alone. For now, he would keep searching, trying to piece together the truth in his own way. He had to. Every day that passed, his silence grew heavier, and the weight of it became harder to bear.

Apart from that topic, not everything was so bad. The headaches had stopped after he lost his voice, and the wound on his head had almost completely healed. He felt a little more comfortable now, and his relationship with Alhaitham seemed to be improving even more.

It really wasn't that bad.

One day, about three weeks after losing his voice, Alhaitham knocked on Kaveh's door in the middle of the afternoon, catching the blonde off guard. Kaveh, who had been submerged in his work, looked up from his desk with surprise. It wasn't like Alhaitham to knock—he usually just walked right in. Standing up, Kaveh walked over and opened the door. Alhaitham was dressed in his usual work attire, looking as though he was about to leave for the Akademiya.

Kaveh waved his hand at him, trying to lighten the mood with a soft smile, but there was something different about Alhaitham's expression today. He looked more serious than usual, his brows furrowed slightly.

“Cyno caught them,” Alhaitham said abruptly, and Kaveh's eyes widened in shock, confused at first. “They’re being interrogated by the Matra. We need to go verify their testimony.”
As Alhaitham finished his sentence, Kaveh felt his stomach sinking through the ground, realizing what he meant. His mind started racing with questions and worries, but without his voice, he could only nod in response. The urgency in Alhaitham’s words left no room for hesitation.

Alhaitham noticed the shift in Kaveh’s expression, and his usual demeanor softened just a fraction. “Get ready quickly. We need to head out soon.”
Kaveh nodded again, rushing to grab his coat and a notebook, just in case he needed to communicate something important. Who had Cyno captured? Could it be the professor who had commissioned Al Haitham to the expedition in the desert? Or maybe someone else involved?

As they made their way out of the house, Kaveh felt his anxiety growing. He had hoped that those strange memories were just nightmares, but now, with the capture of the suspects, everything felt far too real.

The walk to the Akademiya was tense. Alhaitham kept a brisk pace, and Kaveh struggled to keep up, his thoughts still a jumble. When they finally reached the entrance, they were greeted by Cyno, who was waiting with a stern look on his face.

“They’re inside,” he said, motioning them to follow him. “We’ve managed to get some initial information, but it’s all still a bit unclear. I need you both to help figure out what’s true and what’s not.”
Kaveh exchanged a look with Alhaitham, who nodded curtly before following Cyno down the hallway. The walls of the Akademiya seemed to close in around them as they walked, the usually familiar corridors feeling strangely suffocating. Kaveh could feel his heartbeat in his throat, his palms sweaty as he clutched his notebook tightly.

When they entered the room, Kaveh saw the suspects seated at a table, flanked by two Matra guards. One of them, a man in his late thirties with a nervous expression and a scar in his cheek, looked up as they walked in. The other, a woman with a stern face and sharp eyes, seemed relaxed, and even somewhat threatening.

From their attire, there was no doubt that they were Eremites. Kaveh’s eyes widened as he took in their appearance, instantly recognizing both of them. They were the ones he remembered from the ruin in the desert.

So they were real, he thought, swallowing hard.

The woman, appearing far calmer than her companion, flashed him an open, almost mocking smile, which made Kaveh’s stomach churn with unease. His head started throbbing, a dull, pounding pain intensifying the moment their eyes met. The man, on the other hand, simply averted his gaze, disinterested and unfazed by Kaveh’s presence. He didn’t seem to care about Kaveh at all.

Alhaitham took a seat across from them, and the blonde followed suit, sitting beside him. Cyno remained standing, his arms crossed as he observed the suspects with an intense gaze.

They were both handcuffed, but that didn't reassure him in the slightest.

“We’re here to understand what happened,” Alhaitham said calmly, his voice steady and authoritative. “And why.”

Kaveh’s heart was pounding in his chest, his eyes fixed on the suspects. He hoped that whatever they revealed would help him piece together the puzzle of his missing voice and the strange memories that haunted him. More than anything, he hoped It wouldn’t be more than he could handle.

“Talk,” Alhaitham commanded, his voice firm and unyielding. “Detail everything from the beginning.”

The woman looked amused by the scribe’s order. She tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes as she responded in a calm, almost sing-song tone, “Are you sure?”

Alhaitham’s brows furrowed, his posture stiffening as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked, his tone sharp and demanding.

The woman’s gaze shifted to Kaveh, her bound hands rising to gesture subtly towards his head. “If he stays here,” she said, her voice tinged with a hint of mockery, “you’re going to ruin his mind. Not that I particularly care, but I know you do, Scribe. Don’t you?”

The room fell into a heavy silence after the Eremite’s comment, every pair of eyes in the room turning toward Kaveh. The blonde could feel the weight of their stares, the pressure mounting as the throbbing in his head grew worse. He wasn’t sure what she meant, but the pain was becoming unbearable, like his skull was being squeezed from all sides.

Alhaitham’s expression darkened, his gaze darting between the woman and Kaveh. He could see the strain on Kaveh’s face, the way his hands trembled slightly as he clutched his notebook. “What are you talking about?” Alhaitham asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The woman shrugged, leaning back in her chair with an infuriatingly relaxed demeanor. “"He doesn't remember what happened right? That was likely to happen, that's what our client said.” she replied casually. “Whatever you’re digging for, it’s all tangled up in his mind, and forcing him to remember might just break something important. If you want him to stay sane, I suggest you reconsider keeping him here.”

“We accept everything as long as they pay, but we're not loyal to anyone who doesn't deserve it." The man at his side, who seemed oblivious to the conversation so far, joined in. "You should listen to my partner. We don't want another charge."

Kaveh felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead, the eremite’s words echoing in his mind. They were the same voices of the people he saw in those memories, but the more he tried to piece them together, the more his head hurt.

Alhaitham’s jaw clenched as he looked at the architect, his mind racing through the possibilities. He didn’t trust the Eremites, not one bit, but he also knew Kaveh’s well-being wasn’t something to gamble with. After a moment of tense silence, he turned to the blonde, speaking softly. “Do you want to leave?”

Kaveh hesitated, his breath hitching as he considered the question. A part of him wanted to stay, to face whatever truth lay hidden in the Eremite’s words, but the pain in his head was growing worse by the second. Finally, he nodded, reluctant but understanding his own limits.

Alhaitham gave a curt nod in return. “Cyno, escort Kaveh out of the room. Take him somewhere quiet.”

Cyno stepped forward, a hand on Kaveh’s shoulder as he gently guided him out of the room. Kaveh cast one last glance over his shoulder at the Eremites, the woman’s eyes meeting his with a knowing smile. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on, and that whatever she was hiding, It probably wasn't good for him.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Kaveh's knees buckled, causing him to collapse to the floor with a heavy thud. Cyno, who was right beside him, seemed taken aback and quickly moved to his side. Kaveh's breathing was rapid and shallow, his head feeling as if it was about to explode. What was happening to him? The pain was so intense that he couldn’t even open his eyes.

‘Please don't be the knowledge capsule. Please not now', Kaveh begged.

The general, concerned by his state, called out to one of his subordinates. “Take him to Bimarstan. I need to stay with the suspects.”

Kaveh barely registered his friend’s words, but when he did, a sudden wave of panic began to spread through his thoughts. He couldn’t go to Bimarstan; he still didn’t know exactly what was in that knowledge capsule. If it was forbidden knowledge, what if it was contagious? He couldn’t risk spreading it and putting anyone else in harm's way. As he felt two pairs of arms lift him from the floor, realization dawned on him. He didn’t have time to think, and instinctively, he began to resist, thrashing against the guards holding him.

“Kaveh?” Cyno questioned, bewildered by the blonde's sudden outburst.

Without warning, his movements became more frantic, driven by a surge of unfamiliar strength. “Let him go,” Cyno commanded sharply, but before the guards could comply, Kaveh twisted violently, shoving them both backward and forcing them to draw their weapons.

Kaveh’s eyes snapped open, and he saw the guards readying their stances, their expressions a mixture of confusion and wariness. For a split second, everything seemed to freeze. His gaze met Cyno’s, and he saw something change in the general’s face. He froze, his normally composed features tightening as he seemed to notice something. A flash of alarm crossed his eyes before he masked it behind the usual stoic expression.

Kaveh took a step back, fear tightening his chest as he glanced between the guards, desperately trying to convey his apologies. The guards didn’t lower their weapons, their eyes locked on him as if he were a threat, and Kaveh’s gaze shifted back to Cyno, silently pleading for help.

The general’s expression was now taut, a deep furrow creasing his brow. Kaveh had never seen him look like this before.

“Change of plans,” he said in a gruff tone. “Kaveh needs to stay here for an examination. Take the suspects to a cell. The interrogation will be postponed until I notify you.” At his command, the guards reluctantly lowered their weapons and left the room.

“I’ll call Tighnari,” Cyno said, moving closer to Kaveh. There was a melancholy in his voice, a sorrowful undertone that Kaveh didn’t immediately understand. “Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of betrayal.

Kaveh looked up at him, bewildered, still reeling from the strange energy coursing through him. ‘What are you talking about?’ he tried to ask, but his voice wouldn’t come, as expected. He mouthed the words silently.

“Your eyes, Kaveh,” Cyno said softly. “They changed color, turned into a bright red. That can only mean one thing.” The general let out a heavy sigh, and it finally clicked for Kaveh. His hand flew straight to his mouth as he remembered what he read at the House of Daena, and a cold sweat broke out across his forehead.

His worst fear had come true. It was already linked with his mind.

“A Knowledge Capsule,” Cyno continued, his voice steady but edged with tension. “Forbidden information by the Akademiya. You knew, didn’t you?”

Kaveh swallowed hard, his body trembling as he nodded slowly.

“It was them, wasn’t it?” Cyno’s voice grew harsher, his frustration evident. “They gave it to you.”

Before Kaveh could respond, the door swung open, and Alhaitham strode in, his expression a mix of irritation and urgency. Cyno glanced up at him, and Alhaitham crossed his arms, his gaze unwavering. "Your men arrived and took the suspects away before they could share anything of real value” he said, his eyes narrowing as he took in the tense atmosphere and Kaveh’s distressed state.

“What happened?”

The weight of his words hung in the air, thick with unspoken tension. Cyno turned to face him and pulled out his spear, his expression grim. “Kaveh’s been affected by a corrupted knowledge Capsule. We need to get to Lesser Lord Kusanali, now.”

Alhaitham’s eyes widened briefly, but he quickly composed himself.

"...Is that what happened at the ruin? He hasn't had any signs of corruption at home."

"Well, he just did," the general said, pointing to one of his eyes. The scribe immediately understood what he meant.

He glanced at Kaveh, who was still shaking, his eyes reflecting a deep-rooted fear. “You should have told us,” Alhaitham said, his voice surprisingly soft, “We could have helped you sooner.”
Kaveh’s heart sank hearing the scribe's voice. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he blinked them away, trying to steady himself.

Alhaitham crouched down beside him, and Kaveh nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. Cyno stepped forward carefully, his movements slow and deliberate, "We need to go to the Surasthana Sanctuary, as quickly as possible,"

The blonde stepped back after hearing him, shaking his head frantically. The panic was flaring in his chest, and his whole body screamed resistance. His memories were sharper now, no longer muddled by the fog that had clouded his mind. He could recall every detail, every moment of that fateful encounter. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he couldn’t let forbidden knowledge come into contact with the Archon. It was far too dangerous—not just for him, but for everyone in Sumeru.

He was not going to be the culprit of another tragedy.

Looking at him, Cyno extended a hand towards him, his expression softening. “We’re not going to force you into anything, but we have to go. It’s the best way to help you.”

Alhaitham, standing beside Cyno, nodded in agreement. “Lesser Lord Kusanali won’t enter your memories without your permission, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he added, his voice calm, as if he could read Kaveh’s thoughts. “She might be able to offer us some guidance on the matter, and she is the only one with the ability to deal with divine knowledge. We can’t solve this without her.”

Kaveh’s heart pounded in his chest. He knew that they were right, or at least, they should be. He'd spent the last few weeks poring over books, trying to find a way to reverse the effect of a knowledge capsule, but there was no reason for researchers to investigate further.

It made sense, really. With the release of Lesser Lord Kusanali, the effects of divine knowledge seemed to be eradicated throughout Sumeru. Eleazar was cured of all the patients, and supposedly, any remnants were removed from the Irminsul. It was solved, and that's what most of the papers said.

Whatever was happening to him—whatever the capsule had done to him— was out of his reach. He needed help, and he knew the Archon was their best chance at finding a solution.

But what if he didn't want to accept the help?

With a trembling breath, Kaveh slowly reached out and took Cyno’s hand. The touch was reassuring, grounding him in the moment and reminding him that he wasn’t alone. Kaveh nodded with a shaky sigh, and followed. He would go with them and pretend to cooperate. It was the only thing he could do for now.

As the three of them walked towards the Sanctuary of Surasthana, Alhaitham kept a careful eye on Kaveh, trying to fit together the pieces of this increasingly complex puzzle. He now understood what he had been hiding these past weeks, but something was still missing. It would be a lie to say the thought of it hadn't crossed his mind before, but a knowledge capsule? he hadn't seen it as a likely possibility. According to everything he knew, the forbidden knowledge should have been eradicated, completely purged from Sumeru. There shouldn’t have been any residue left.

He could grasp why Kaveh might want to keep this hidden—the fear of what he carried within him was likely a powerful motivator. However, what Alhaitham couldn’t comprehend fully yet was why Kaveh seemed so reluctant to accept help now that everything was out in the open. What more could there be to it?

They stepped together onto the lift, and as it ascended toward the Sanctuary, Alhaitham could see the anxiety in Kaveh’s face. The blonde looked troubled, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at him. When the doors finally opened, they were greeted by the grand, imposing entrance to the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

The ethereal glow of the place made it seem almost otherworldly, with floating petals and streams of light dancing around, illuminating the vast hallways. The scribe had already been there several times, but It was a sight that struck awe in even the most stoic of visitors. Kaveh’s crimson eyes widened as he took in the grandeur of the sanctuary, his mouth falling open slightly. Alhaitham noted this, realizing that this probably was his first time inside the palace, and held back a smile.

As they entered the central hall, his gaze quickly shifted from the amazed blonde to the familiar figure standing in front of them. A silhouette of a boy with a distinctive wide-brimmed hat, and a weird choice of clothes. There was no mistaking on who it was.

Hat guy, known for his aloof demeanor and sharp tongue, turned around with a look of mild irritation. "Why does everyone think they can just waltz into the Archon’s residence without asking? It’s really quite disrespectful," he muttered, his face set in a slight scowl.

Cyno stepped forward, his expression serious as he pulled out his polearm. "Under my authority, I am entitled to request an emergency audience with Lesser Lord Kusanali, and I believe you’re aware that Nahida gave Alhaitham, as Acting Grand Sage, permission to enter the sanctuary whenever necessary."

Wanderer rolled his eyes, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "Fine, fine, General Mahamatra. I suppose you have a point. I’ll go fetch Lesser Lord Kusanali, but do me a favor and wait here." His tone was laced with sarcasm, but he didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel to head deeper into the sanctuary.

The scribe watched him go with narrowed eyes, and Cyno kept a vigilant stance, his stare sweeping the surroundings. There was an uneasy silence between them after Wanderer left, and Alhaitham couldn’t help but feel concern as he looked back at Kaveh. The blonde seemed overwhelmed, his breathing shallow as he took in the Sanctuary’s ethereal beauty, his mind likely racing with thoughts and fears.

A few minutes later, Wanderer returned, gently carrying the small Archon in his arms. As he approached the group, he set Nahida down on the ground and took a few steps back, crossing his arms and observing quietly.

Nahida greeted them with a warm smile, her emerald eyes shining with kindness. "It's good to see you, Alhaitham. It’s rare for you to visit without summoning you here before." she teased lightly. "I see you’ve brought a rather curious group with you." Her sweet gaze shifted to Kaveh, who seemed startled, as if the idea of making eye contact with a god was too daunting.

"You’re Kaveh, right? The Light of Kshahrewar? I’ve been looking forward to meeting you," she said softly.

Caught off guard with her greeting, the architect opened his mouth, likely forgetting for a moment that he couldn't speak, and then quickly closed it again, bowing deeply in a somewhat mechanical manner. Alhaitham realized that this was Kaveh’s first time meeting the Lesser Lord, and the blonde’s flustered reaction was understandable.

"Lesser Lord Kusanali," Cyno began, his voice steady and respectful as he gave a slight bow, far less dramatic than Kaveh’s. "We’re here to seek your help with a rather complicated matter."

Nahida studied them all for a few moments, her smile never fading. She nodded gently, "Of course, I'm more than willing to help in any way I can. Please, follow me. Let's move to a more comfortable area where we can talk."

She led them deeper into the sanctuary, through ornate hallways filled with lanterns, until they reached a cozy yet elegantly furnished room that resembled a sitting area. The walls were adorned with tapestries, depicting various stories of Sumeru’s past.

"Please, have a seat," Nahida offered as she settled onto one of the white plush cushions on the floor. She turned to Wanderer, who was still standing by the entrance, and requested, "Could you bring us some refreshments for our guests?"

To everyone’s surprise, Wanderer nodded without a word, leaving the room to fulfill her wish. The room fell into a brief silence as they all made themselves comfortable.

“Alright," Nahida said once everyone was settled, her voice clear. "Tell me what's the matter in hand."

As detailed as possible, Cyno and Alhaitham began recounting the entire story to the small Archon, each filling in details the other missed. They explained Kaveh's accident in the desert, the knowledge capsule he had likely encountered, and the symptoms he was experiencing. Nahida listened attentively, her face thoughtful as she occasionally nodded along, acknowledging their words. When Wanderer returned with a tray of small pastries and tea, she paused to offer them to her guests, insisting they have some before they continued.

Kaveh watched them tell the story in silence, showing a few notes from time to time, but he was still nervous. His gaze never seemed to leave the little archon, but It's not like you get to meet a god every day you know?

Once they had finished explaining, Nahida rested her chin on her hand, her expression contemplative. "Well, this is strange indeed." she murmured, her voice thoughtful. "Knowledge capsules are meant to support human development, not to cause harm. Besides, Irminsul was supposed to erase all remnants of forbidden knowledge, I really don't think its contents are authentic. If I had to guess, I’d say the capsule might be a counterfeit, but I can’t be sure," she said, placing her hands gently on her lap.

"The technology to forge fake capsules does exist in Sumeru, but replicating forbidden knowledge is something else entirely. We must proceed carefully. If the effects on Kaveh's mind are this nocive already, then the replicated knowledge is a treat."

Nahida turned her gaze back at the blonde, this time with a gentler, more reassuring look. "Kaveh, I would like to hear your side of the story as well. If you permit me, I could enter your mind and we could discuss it together. I will be able to communicate with you through thoughts"

Kaveh’s body tensed up at her request, and the scribe looked at him carefully.

He pulled out the notebook he had carried with him the entire way and hastily scribbled something down before handing it over to the little archon. Nahida took it with curiosity and read the short note. After a few seconds reading it, she nodded in understanding, her expression clearing "Of course, I accept all of your conditions. You don’t need to worry; I’ll take all the necessary precautions."

Alhaitham, slightly confused by the exchange, noticed how Kaveh’s shoulders relaxed slightly at her response, as if the weight on his chest had been lifted just a little.

"If you’ll excuse me," Nahida said, her tone calm yet authoritative, "I would like to speak with Kaveh in private. Please, wait in the central hall of the sanctuary and wait for us. Wanderer will escort you there."

Cyno and Alhaitham exchanged a quick glance, and then nodded. They trusted Nahida to manage the situation with care. Without further comment, Alhaitham stood up and followed as they left the room, his eyes falling on Kaveh one last time before turning.

The boy led them back to the central hall in silence, his steps measured and his demeanor distant. After fulfilling his task, he folded his arms and turned to face them. "I’m assuming you don’t need anything else, right? I’m not a fan of babysitting, so do me a favor and make it as painless as possible by not being a nuisance."

Making his case clear, he shifted away, retreating to a distant corner of the hall. Once he was far enough, he pulled out a slip of paper, the kind often handed out to the scholars, and began reading it with clear reluctance. The shadows that surrounded him seemed to mirror his desire to remain detached, as if even the air around him carried a silent command for solitude.

Turning to the Scribe, Cyno spoke in a low voice, "I have to go. I told Tighnari I’d meet him at the Akademiya. I’ll send some of my subordinates to keep an eye on the area. We’ll stop by your house later, but I need to update him on what happened first."

Alhaitham gave a brief nod, silently acknowledging Cyno’s departure. The General had many other obligations, and without a doubt, he would have to give TIghnari a very long talk to explain everything. Hat guy, reading with an air of detached boredom, had clearly been eavesdropping. His sharp gaze followed Cyno as he disappeared from view, though the boy’s expression betrayed nothing beyond idle curiosity.

With Cyno gone, Alhaitham, true to his nature, took out one of his books, intending to pass the time by reading. It was a well-practiced routine for him, a way to shut out distractions and pass the time in productive silence. Minutes passed in this hushed state, and just as Alhaitham had begun to lose himself in the pages of his text, the silence was broken.

“Just out of curiosity, are you and Blondie dating?”

Without warning, the boy approached him with casual movements, almost too casual. Before Alhaitham could fully register the unexpected question, he was already standing in front of him.

The inquiry hung in the air for a moment, leaving the scribe caught between irritation and surprise. Of all the things Wanderer could have asked, this was not what he had anticipated.

He raised an eyebrow, closing his book softly and glancing down at the shorter boy. "I thought you didn’t want to be bothered," he replied, his tone laced with a subtle edge. The Scribe wasn’t fond of intrusive questions, especially when they involved his private life.

"I didn’t say I couldn’t bother you, Acting Grand Sage. It’s just a question, you know? Kusanali told me I should try talking to people more often. I’m only doing as I was told. It’s an irrelevant question."

"It becomes relevant the moment you decide to intrude on others' privacy.” the scribe said in a sour tone. “I’m not obligated to engage in conversation with you. If you want to practice your conversational skills, I’d suggest finding someone else."

"How boring, Scribe.” the boy remarked, his tone casual but carrying an undertone of provocation.”I wonder what Blondie sees in you to keep following you around for so long,"

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes at the boy, slightly taken aback by the direction he was steering the conversation, and crossed his arms defensively. "He’s not following me. You shouldn’t speak so confidently about situations you know nothing about."

Wanderer’s smirk widened as he tilted his head, unbothered by Alhaitham’s retort. "Oh, but I do know. Part of my job involves diving into Irminsul every now and then. Kusanali might respect people’s privacy, but me? I couldn't care less. I'd even say I know more than you. About blondie, I mean."

Despite his youthful appearance, the boy was undoubtedly sharp. Alhaitham, mildly amused by the situation, decided to indulge him and let him speak.

“His participation in the Interdarshan Championship was quite peculiar," he continued, his voice more contemplative now. He glanced off to the side, as though recalling something distant. "Not that I disagree with his methods, but he's quite an interesting little person. There are few people like him—so idealistic, almost to a fault."

Alhaitham stared at the Wanderer, sensing that he was being deliberate with his words, subtly digging for a reaction. “I wasn’t aware you were so interested in Kaveh’s methods,” he replied, his tone measured. “Or that you had time for ‘idealistic’ people. You don’t strike me as someone who cares too much for others’ motivations.”

The boy gave a small, derisive chuckle, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight. “I don’t. Not usually.” He glanced off to the side, as if considering his next words carefully. “But you’ve seen it too, haven’t you? The reckless way he throws himself into things, like he’s trying to prove something to the world—or maybe just to himself.”

“I know he's reckless, to say the least. His emotions drive him in every action, and that’s often his downfall.” He leaned back in his seat, scrutinizing Wanderer with more interest. “But that doesn’t explain why you care.”

The boy shrugged, though the motion seemed forced. “I don’t, really. It’s just fascinating to see. He reminds me of people who cling to ideas because they think it’ll save them. They burn themselves out chasing after something they’ll never reach.” His smirk returned, though it was faint, as if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not so different from me before, I guess.”

Alhaitham paused at that, sensing the layers of meaning behind Wanderer’s words. It wasn’t often that someone as guarded as him let slip anything personal. He decided to push further, curiosity piqued. “And what exactly were you chasing? Redemption? Power?”

Wanderer’s expression darkened, the lightness gone entirely now. He seemed to hesitate before responding, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Answers. And when you’re desperate enough, you’ll believe anything that seems to fit. You convince yourself it’s the truth, even if it’s a lie.” His eyes met Alhaitham’s, uncharacteristically serious. “But one lie, one mistake, can change everything. Humans love to skate close to that edge. Blondie is no different. You are no different.”

Alhaitham stared at him silently, the words hitting deeper than he expected. “I'm just trying to help your situation.” Wanderer snorted softly. “Kusanali might not be able to help him.” He paused, his voice turning almost quiet. “And he may believe that he can carry the world alone, but no one can. Not without losing themselves in the process.”

Alhaitham felt a strange chill run down his spine at Wanderer’s words. They were blunt, but not wrong. He knew Kaveh too well, perhaps too intimately, to deny what was being implied. Kaveh had always carried the burden of others' pain as if it were his own, his drive to help often bordering on self-destruction. And lately, with his voice gone and the knowledge capsule looming over them all, it was clearer than ever that Kaveh was treading on dangerous ground.

“So what are you suggesting?” Alhaitham asked, voice lower now, meeting Wanderer’s gaze with renewed focus.

The boy leaned back, crossing his arms again, but the usual sarcasm in his tone was absent. “Just pay attention, Scribe. You should be good at that. People like Kaveh don’t stop until they crash—hard. I know about it. If you’re not careful, It'll be too late, and you’ll be left picking up the pieces.”

There was something about the quiet intensity in his voice, the way he spoke with a kind of regret, that suggested experience. It was rare for Alhaitham to be swayed by sentiment, but this was more than that. Wanderer, in his own cryptic way, had seen something that Alhaitham might have missed in Kaveh.

The scribe opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Both men turned, their conversation abruptly halted as Nahida and Kaveh walked toward them, the small archon leading the way with her calm, serene expression.

Kaveh followed behind, his posture a little too relaxed, his smile a little too soft. And for some reason, that easygoing calmness unsettled Alhaitham more than he cared to admit.

As they took center stage, Wanderer stepped back, the familiar smirk returning to his face. There was a subtle difference in his demeanor—a seriousness that hadn’t been there before.

“Did we keep you waiting too long?” the small Archon asked, her voice gentle but laced with an underlying tension.

“Not really,” Alhaitham replied, tucking away the book he’d been holding. His eyes, however, were sharp with expectation. “Did you find something?”

Nahida’s gaze flickered toward Kaveh, who gave a faint nod. The weight of the moment was palpable, and the Archon's once bright expression dimmed as her emerald eyes clouded with concern. She hesitated, clearly grappling with the gravity of what she was about to reveal. “Well… after a thorough discussion, Kaveh and I reached a conclusion together,” she began, clasping her hands behind her back as if trying to steady herself.

The atmosphere only grew heavier as she gathered her thoughts. "When I entered Kaveh's mind, I sensed a clear irregularity—something that had been forcibly obscured by an unknown force," Nahida explained, her voice tinged with sorrow. “It appears that Kaveh’s subconscious, in response to the forbidden knowledge, has created a kind of barrier, a self-imposed lock to prevent the knowledge from spreading.”

She paused, allowing her words to sink in, her gaze shifting back to Kaveh, who stood quietly beside her, his face calm but pale. ”This makes a lot of sense. His body probably doesn't know where this knowledge came from, and has chosen to block it out. That would explain the memory loss and the headaches. The human mind is not designed to bear the burden of divine knowledge, so it works as a defense mechanism, a treatment similar to post-traumatic amnesia.”

Alhaitham’s brows furrowed slightly, though he remained silent, processing her words.

“However, this barrier is not static. It’s growing, extending itself deeper into his mind, and it won’t be long before it consumes his brain entirely. The psychological state that I was able to examine is similar to those seen in the past, with the Eleazar patients,” Nahida continued, her tone more somber. “If the knowledge was expressed through the Akasha terminal, I might have been able to enter his subconscious and remove the forbidden knowledge manually, in the form of memories. However, It appears that the capsule used was altered to connect directly to the brain, and that is a critical difference. Kaveh does not appear to display the common symptoms of Eleazar, and the knowledge within the capsule—whether it's a replica or not—contains traces of the Withering's taint, the same remnants that once corrupted Irminsul.”

She let out a deep sigh, her expression darkening. “This is unmistakable to me. The knowledge embedded within Kaveh is tied to the same blight that plagued our land and spread the Withering across Sumeru. Like Eleazar, it's origins are entirely neuronal and Its incredibly contagious. Even if I tried to remove it in the form of memories, it wouldn't be enough to eliminate it. To interact with this knowledge would be to risk triggering another disaster, one that could potentially reintroduce forbidden knowledge back into Sumeru.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of unspoken fears, and Alhaitham felt his chest tighten at the thought. Nahida, sensing the rising tension, continued, her voice softer now, tinged with regret. “Eleazar originated after King Deshret experimented with forbidden knowledge. As the Archon of Sumeru, I cannot take that risk. And Kaveh… knowing this, has made the difficult decision to remain the bearer of this knowledge, to protect others from its danger.”

Alhaitham’s eyes shifted to Kaveh, who met his gaze with a soft, almost serene smile. The calmness in Kaveh’s expression, though intended to reassure, only served to unsettle the scribe further. It was a tranquility born not of peace, but of resignation, and it made the scribe’s skin crawl.

He turned his gaze back to the little archon and shook his head slowly. "What exactly does it mean for him to be a vessel for forbidden knowledge?" he said steadily, a clear sense of urgency behind it. "If its contents are already this harmful to his mind, wouldn’t keeping them inside lead to a constant decline? Is there truly no way to suppress it?"

Nahida’s gaze faltered for a moment, drifting toward Kaveh, whose silence felt heavy in the space between them. Sighing softly, she clasped her small hands in front of her as she looked back at Alhaitham. "Any interference could trigger an immediate connection with the forbidden knowledge. I'm sorry, but there's not much more I can do.”

Alhaitham’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t ready to accept such a final answer. His mind worked through every possibility, but none of the answers gave him any relief. "So, if that’s the case," he continued, "What happens to Kaveh now? How will it affect him in the long term?"

Wanderer, who had remained silent, observed the conversation from the sidelines, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Alhaitham struggle to contain himself. Nahida bit her lip, clearly nervous, her gaze flickering once more toward Kaveh before she answered. "I can’t predict exactly how the knowledge will affect him over time," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "The symptoms he’s experiencing now will likely become permanent. It's fortunate that there are no visible signs of Eleazar," she added, trying to offer a sliver of hope, "so perhaps his mental state won’t deteriorate further."

Alhaitham wasn’t easily appeased. "And if it does?" he asked, his voice sharper than before, cutting through the silence.

Nahida’s expression darkened slightly, and for a few moments, she seemed at a loss for words. She understood his disappointment, his need for something more concrete than vague assurances. "If his condition worsens..." she hesitated, then sighed, lowering her gaze. "Then... there will be nothing more we can do."

The quiet that followed was heavy, almost suffocating. Alhaitham let out a low, almost imperceptible scoff, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight. "So you’re telling me to just stand by and accept this?"

His tone was harsher now, laced with frustration. "If his mind starts to deteriorate, you want me to just watch it happen, knowing there’s nothing I can do?"

Kaveh, who had been avoiding eye contact throughout the whole exchange, looked up at Alhaitham, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. Alhaitham stared at his eyes, and for a moment, they confronted each other silently. There was a brief flicker of defiance in Kaveh’s gaze, as if silently asking Alhaitham to stop pushing the issue. He may had made his decision already, but Alhaitham wasn’t ready to back down yet.

Wanderer, sensing the tension rising between them, choose the right moment to step in. "If she can’t do anything more for you, then you should probably leave," he said, his usual cynicism coloring his words. "She’s done what she can—there’s nothing more to discuss."

Kaveh, recognizing that things were escalating, gently placed a hand on Alhaitham’s shoulder, a silent attempt to steer him toward the exit. The scribe, unsatisfied and unwilling to accept what felt like resignation, caught Kaveh’s wrist, removing his hand from his shoulder—not forcefully, but firmly enough to make his point. "Is that it?" he asked, his tone betraying his disappointment. "You’re just giving up?"

Kaveh’s gaze wavered slightly, his eyes filled with an emotion that Alhaitham couldn’t quite decipher. He looked away for a few seconds, his silence speaking volumes. But there was no guilt in his expression, only resolve. It was clear that Kaveh had already come to terms with the situation, even if Alhaitham hadn’t.

"Just go, Scribe," Wanderer interjected again, his voice cutting through the tension. "You know you can always come back later. It's late already."

The little archon, sensing the growing frustration in the room, raised her hands in a gentle, calming gesture. "I’ll continue searching through Irminsul for any solutions," she said softly, her tone a plea for patience. "There may be something we’ve missed, something that could help without risking further harm. But until then, please, just look after Kaveh and... don’t try anything on your own." Her voice grew more serious as she spoke, her emerald eyes meeting Alhaitham’s with an unwavering gaze. "I don’t want to sound harsh, but given the gravity of the situation, I must insist—as your Archon—that you don’t interfere with the decision Kaveh and I have made."

Even though the scribe refused to support such a sentence, her petition carried a greater weight, a clear boundary set in place. There was nothing more to be said, and Alhaitham knew it. Begrudgingly, he gave a slight nod, his expression still tight with unresolved emotions, and walked towards the exit, the architect following him close behind.

As they left the sanctuary, the silence between them was thick. Wanderer watched them go, his usual smirk absent as his gaze lingered on the blonde’s retreating figure. Nahida, standing next to him, waved goodbye, her green eyes clouded with sorrow as they drifted down to the floor.

.-.-

It was already dark when they arrived home.

Kaveh, unable to speak, watched his roommate carefully as they entered the familiar space. Once inside, the blonde left his things in the living room and pointed towards a cup of tea with a smile—a gesture that only deepened Alhaitham’s frustration. The peace that Kaveh seemed to radiate felt unnatural, almost unnerving, and the scribe found himself pacing, unsure of what to say or do.

Left without an answer, Kaveh reached out, lightly tapping Alhaitham’s arm and trying to pull him out of his spiraling thoughts. Alhaitham stopped his mind to look down at Kaveh, who pointed for a second time, towards the tea set on the counter—a silent offer to sit and share a moment of normalcy. As they settled down at the table, the unspoken pressure seemed to dissipate between them, a reminder that, despite the quiet, they were still them.

For Kaveh, it was enough.

Quietly, the scribe drank his tea, his eyes never leaving the architect. He watched him gingerly as the blonde sipped in silence, his hands trembling ever so slightly, despite his effort to hide it. If we talk about appearance. Kaveh looked like a mess—his golden hair unkempt, his crimson eyes heavy with exhaustion. His whole body seemed drained, and yet, even in his disarray, there was something striking about him. A quiet, hidden strength in the way his gaze lingered on the scribe, as if his eyes were trying to say all the things his voice no longer could.

Alhaitham sighed, taking another sip from his cup.

He missed Kaveh’s voice.

It was a strange thing to admit, considering how many times he had wished for a moment of quiet, for the architect to just stop talking. And yet, now that the house was filled with the deafening absence of Kaveh’s constant chatter, Alhaitham found himself aching for the sound of it. The sarcastic remarks, the occasional whines, the way his voice would rise in irritation or soften when he was lost in thought—it had all become part of the rhythm of his life. And now, that rhythm was broken. The silence was unbearable.

His grip tightened around the cup, and he closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. But they lingered, stubborn and persistent, like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

Cyno and Tighnari arrived a couple hours later, just as promised—their expressions as heavy as the night that had settled over the city. Alhaitham greeted them with a brief nod, and after a few pleasantries that lacked any real warmth, he began recounting the details of his conversation with Kusanali. The explanation was meticulous, as always, though his tone was colder than usual, weighed down by the sour resolution.

"Wait?" Tighnari’s voice cut through the explanation, his tone sharp, almost offended. His ears twitched slightly, betraying the rising tension. "That’s it? We’re just supposed to wait?"

Alhaitham, noticing his distress, straightened his posture, maintaining his usual calm as he elaborated, "Kusanali believes that any interference might trigger a direct connection with the forbidden knowledge, worsening his condition. There’s nothing more she can do for now." His voice was flat, professional, though there was an undercurrent of something darker—resentment, perhaps, or helplessness. He wasn’t sure.

"Of course," Cyno muttered, his expression stiffening. "That explains why none of the medical treatments worked." His gaze turned to Tighnari, sharing an unspoken understanding. "Like Eleazar," Tighnari murmured, almost to himself. "Untreatable… just like that."

It was a harsh truth to swallow, one that settled heavily in the air. Tighnari’s gaze flickered briefly to Kaveh, who stood frozen in place. His eyes, clouded with worry, dropped to the floor, clearly not expecting such a grim diagnosis from the archon itself. In contrast, Cyno’s growing frustration was palpable. "We’ll continue the interrogation tomorrow morning," he declared, his voice hard, leaving no room for argument. "Alhaitham, you should come. It’s better that Kaveh stays inside for a few days—we can’t risk any interaction that could worsen his condition.”

Kaveh, who had gotten up to get himself a coffee, nodded slightly in understanding, his gaze lowered. Cyno and Tighnari looked at the scribe, expecting his agreement as well, but when he finally spoke, his response took them both by surprise.

"I won’t be there," Alhaitham said, his voice calm yet resolute.

The general’s brows furrowed at his response. "You won’t?" he repeated, as if trying to understand the sudden refusal.The scribe, still composed, crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of the table, his gaze steady on Kaveh before shifting to meet Cyno’s. "There’s little point in me attending the interrogation. They’re just mercenaries—they probably don’t know much more than we already do. Besides, my time could be better spent."

Tighnari’s expression tightened in irritation, his tail flicking sharply. "And what exactly do you suggest we do then? If not interrogating them, what’s the next move?"

Taking one of Kaveh's notes from the table, Alhaitham explained his judgment. "Cyno, you handle the interrogation. Push them for whatever information they might have. If they don’t reveal anything valuable about their client, consider letting them go. We still don't know if the sage who sent the commission is the same one who hired the eremites in the first place. Let them believe we didn’t have enough evidence to hold them. Then, with the right surveillance and some patience, they’ll eventually lead us to their client. Sometimes it’s easier to follow a loose thread than to pull it."

As he finished explaining himself, he handed the paper to Cyno, who received it with narrowed eyes. The general looked at it and found a fairly detailed illustration of the ruin they had investigated in the desert. The design was distinguished, undoubtedly following Kaveh's style. Understanding his approach, his eyes relaxed as the logic behind the plan began to take hold. "So, you want us to bait them," Cyno muttered, more to himself than to Alhaitham.

The scribe nodded. "Exactly. In the meantime, Lesser Lord Kusanali will likely contact you in the next few days. I suspect she’ll want you to investigate the origin of the capsule itself, and that’s where our focus should be—on finding out who made it and why. We already have leads on the sage; if we uncover the capsule's creator, we might find a way to undo its effects on Kaveh."

Cyno and Tighnari exchanged thoughtful glances, both recognizing the sound reasoning in Alhaitham’s approach. Without further words, the two left shortly afterward, their usual camaraderie absent, replaced by the heavy reality of the situation. There were no shared drinks, no light-hearted jokes to ease the somber mood.

Tighnari wrapped the blonde in a tight embrace, his voice soft as he promised to visit more often. Cyno offered his usual goodbye, his gaze lingered on Kaveh for just a moment longer than usual.
The architect watched them leave as he waved, their figures fading into the distance, with a quiet sadness settling deep within him—a poignant reminder of how drastically everything had shifted now that he was, for all intents and purposes, mute forever.

He heard the door click shut behind them and moved to clean the table once again, slower than last time. The scribe approached him shortly after to help him gather the tea cups from the table. Once the blonde was finished, he gestured to Alhaitham with a small wave, signaling his intention to retire for the night. But as he turned to leave, Alhaitham caught his wrist gently but firmly, stopping him in his tracks. "Kaveh," he said, using a deep voice—the one he often reserved for scolding him. “Can I ask you something?”

Staring at him, the architect sighed loudly, his eyes lowering as he tried to shake his head and pull away, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. Alhaitham, stubborn as always, wasn’t willing to let him go. "I just need you to answer one thing," he pressed, his grip on Kaveh’s wrist tightening just enough to keep him from walking away.

The blonde’s brow furrowed, a silent plea in his eyes for the scribe to drop the subject. "Back during the interrogation," Alhaitham began, his tone measured but laced with an intensity that hadn’t been there before, "You acted strange when we entered the room. You recognized the Eremites, didn't you?. And when Cyno mentioned going to the Sanctuary, your reaction wasn’t subtle—you were alarmed. As if you were aware of something we aren't."

Alhaitham’s gaze locked onto Kaveh’s, sharp and unwavering, slicing through the fragile defenses Kaveh had been desperately trying to maintain. "Tell me, Kaveh," his voice lowered, cutting with precision, “Did you recover your memory of the accident?"

The architect stared at him, eyes widened. It was just for a fraction, but it was enough for the scribe to notice. A flicker of panic crossed his face, brief but undeniable. He shook his head quickly, almost too quickly, in a feeble attempt to deny it.

“I know when you’re lying, Kaveh. Tell me the truth.” He stepped forward, pressing Kaveh's notebook into his hand. "Is there more? Something you haven’t even told Lesser Lord Kusanali about?"

Finally done with his insistence, Kaveh reached the end of his patience and shoved Alhaitham away, the movement sharp and filled with a rawness that was rarely seen in him.

His face contorted with a mixture of anger and pain, and without making any gesture at the scribe, he turned sharply on his heel and stormed toward his room, each silent footstep resounding louder in the suffocating stillness of the night.

"Kaveh–" Alhaitham called after him, but before he could take another step in his direction, the blonde slammed his door shut with a force that reverberated through the house. The scribe stood there, his hand hovering in the air as if he had intended to reach out, to follow. Staring at the now closed door, he closed his eyes and let out a slow, frustrated breath.

He could swear Kaveh's eyes had turned a deeper red before leaving. The marks of the knowledge capsule were more noticeable now. It wasn’t a good sign.

As the house fell into a deep silence once more, Alhaitham leaned against the wall, his thoughts spiraling in a loop of hypothesis. After a couple minutes, he sighed and left the blonde's notebook on the table, walking to his room silently, thinking.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Kaveh woke up feeling worse, but it's not like he’d hoped anything better.

As expected, Alhaitham was already awake and fully dressed by the time Kaveh dragged himself out of bed. They crossed paths briefly in the hallway. Kaveh, still sluggish from sleep, almost collided with him in his half-dazed state, but Alhaitham barely glanced in his direction—no greeting, no acknowledgment. It was as if he was trying to avoid more confrontation, something unusual for him. Silently, he took his keys and left the house. He didn’t bring up their argument from the night before, nor did he press him with more questions, which was a small relief.

A quiet truce seemed to have settled between them, not spoken aloud but understood. Kaveh found some comfort in it. In fact, the silence suited him just fine.

In his work, the blonde tried to keep up appearances with his clients, sticking to his daily routine as best he could, pretending nothing had really changed.

Still, things were very different in other matters—drastically different. Alhaitham, for one, had become increasingly distant with him.

Some days he would vanish for hours, often from sunrise to late into the night, consumed by this so-called “personal research” of his. Ancient scrolls, forgotten manuscripts—they were piled up on his desk in disarray, their pages covered in frantic notes. Now that Kaveh was spending more time at home, he had little choice but to sigh and tidy up the scattered remnants of the scribe’s relentless study.
It used to be unimaginable for Alhaitham to stay at the Akademiya outside of work, but these days, it was like he practically lived there. And it wasn’t just for his own research. During what little free time he had, he’d been meeting with Lesser Lord Kusanali regularly—far more often than Kaveh cared to count. By now, it had become a daily routine, one that grated on Kaveh’s nerves in ways he wouldn’t openly admit.

He didn’t really need to ask what they were discussing; Alhaitham made no effort to hide it. Lesser Lord Kusanali was actively aiding him in his research, clinging to the fragile hope of undoing the damage that had already been done to Kaveh’s "vessel." Kaveh knew he should have felt grateful—after all, the Dendro Archon herself was involved. But instead, a discomfort twisted in his chest, something with a bitter taste. It wasn’t just the situation; it was Alhaitham’s insistence on pushing forward, on chasing solutions when the answers had already been laid bare. He would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him.
Kusanali had been clear from the start: The damage from the knowledge capsule was irreversible. Or at the very least, close to it. They were fighting against something far bigger than either of them, and the odds weren’t in their favor. The blonde had found, or at least was trying to find, his peace about it. Yet, Alhaitham refused to accept it. Part of Kaveh couldn’t help but admire that about him—the unyielding determination, the stubborn refusal to back down even when the situation seemed hopeless. But there was another part, buried beneath the admiration, that resented him for it.

What were his motives? It felt like a futile exercise, a battle already lost. Every night Alhaitham came home late, skipping dinner and offering only the briefest of exchanges, the distance between them seemed to stretch further, widening a gap that had once been so narrow.

More than that, Kaveh couldn’t ignore the fact that Cyno had also become more involved lately. The General Mahamatra would show up at their house from time to time, quietly discussing his progress with the scribe, in low voices. It wasn’t like Cyno to be a frequent guest, and while Kaveh didn’t mind his visits, he couldn’t help but feel left out of the loop. Tighnari, true to his word, visited Sumeru City more often now, though his reasoning seemed shaky at best.The last time he saw him, he had told him he’d be staying for a few weeks at the city, claiming he had been offered the opportunity to give a conference at the Akademiya. Kaveh wanted to believe him, but a part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that Tighnari had other reasons for being there. Still, he didn’t press. He simply smiled and put on a brave face, accepting the explanation for what it was, even if doubt gnawed at him from the inside.

Both Cyno and Tighnari had become more cautious around him. Unlike before, they didn’t openly share their findings, especially not when it came to the capsule’s origin. It was as if they were holding back, as if they didn’t trust him with the details anymore. Maybe they thought that mentioning it would only worsen his condition. Maybe they were trying to protect him. But the secrecy felt suffocating. What worried him more, though, was Alhaitham. That clever scribe was never one to sit idly by. He had to be planning something behind Kaveh’s back, and that thought unnerved him a lot.

Kaveh wasn’t sure how to feel about his odd behavior. He missed the fleeting moments where it felt like they were rebuilding something—something more than just cohabitation, but at the same time, the separation was convenient. It made things easier, less complicated. After all, Kaveh had gone as far as to ask Lesser Lord Kusanali personally to keep the worst details of his condition from Alhaitham. There was no need for him to know just how bad things were. This distance? It was safer. Easier to hide that his condition was deteriorating faster than he had anticipated.

The headaches that once came in waves now never left, pounding relentlessly at his skull, robbing him of focus and energy. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The numbness in his limbs, which had started as a mild tingling in his fingers, began spreading. His joints ached, and his hands trembled when he tried to work, the subtle shaking growing more pronounced each day.

There were moments—fleeting but terrifying—where Kaveh couldn’t hold a pen properly, his grip faltering as the tremors overtook him. Each time it happened, the fear gnawed at him, a quiet reminder that things were only going downhill from here. But despite the mounting dread, Kaveh held onto the belief that he’d made the right choice. He had accepted his fate, and in doing so, he found a strange kind of peace. The fear that once clawed at his insides was replaced by a calm resignation, a quiet understanding that whatever happened next, at least it was on his terms.

There was a freedom in knowing his time was limited. The path ahead of him was set, and though it was terrifying, there was something liberating about knowing that he had chosen it.

Of course, Alhaitham, despite having distanced himself from theblonde, hadn’t stopped questioning him. Over the past few days, the scribe had found subtle, and sometimes not-so-subtle ways to bring up the desert. It was clear he hadn’t given up on trying to get the truth from Kaveh, despite the architect’s best efforts to shut him down.

"I know you remember more than you're letting on," Alhaitham had said one evening, standing in the kitchen as Kaveh washed dishes in silence. "There’s no point in hiding it from me.”

Kaveh had kept his back turned that time, focusing on the clinking of plates under the water. He had merely shaken his head, refusing to engage. The scribe’s dedication was unexpected, and if Kaveh was honest with himself, it tugged at something deep inside him. He hadn’t expected this kind of perseverance from someone who had once harbored so much disdain for him. But that didn’t change anything. Alhaitham would move on. He always did.

"You think I can’t see what’s happening?" he had pressed on another occasion, his voice more insistent as they passed each other in the hallway. "Your condition is worsening, isn’t it? And yet you refuse to tell me the whole truth. Why?"

Kaveh had met his gaze briefly, the flicker of concern in Alhaitham’s eyes disarming him for just a second. But then, he quickly turned away, shaking his head once more. He couldn’t bring himself to answer. A part of him wanted to spare Alhaitham from knowing the full extent of it.

It was strange. He had always thought of Alhaitham as cold and distant, someone who wouldn’t care whether he lived or died. And yet, here he was, pouring hours into research, spending late nights consulting with the Archon, all in an effort to save him. Kaveh hadn’t expected this kind of devotion for him, and he certainly hadn’t expected it from Alhaitham, but there were limits to what even he could do. It made it harder to keep his distance, harder to accept that his time was running out.

At the end of every day, when he was tucked in bed, Kaveh reassured himself.

Alhaitham would be fine. He was strong. Detached. Losing Kaveh wouldn’t affect him as deeply as it might someone else. Alhaitham would find a way to move on, and that thought, as painful as it was, brought Kaveh comfort. Alhaitham wouldn’t fall apart when he was gone. He could live with that.

One evening, after another long day of quiet tension and unanswered questions, Alhaitham cornered him in the living room, his arms crossed as he stood in the doorway, blocking Kaveh’s path. "I’m not going to let this go," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You can’t keep dodging the question, Kaveh. If you don’t tell me the truth, how can I help you?"

Kaveh bit his lip, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel Alhaitham’s eyes on him, waiting, searching for any sign of weakness. But what could he say to him? That there was no saving him? That Alhaitham’s efforts, as noble as they were, were in vain? His throat tightened, and he simply shook his head, stepping around Alhaitham with as much composure as he could muster.

Alhaitham let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he watched Kaveh retreat to his room. This was a pattern that had repeated itself countless times over the past week, and each time, the silence between them seemed to grow heavier, thicker with things left unsaid.

Kaveh lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, the familiar throbbing pain in his head a dull reminder of what he had chosen.

.-.-

The next morning, pain was the first thing the architect felt.

Letting out a muffled groan, he pressed a hand to his forehead, trying in vain to soothe the relentless throbbing behind his temples. It was like it had been lying in wait for him the moment he opened his eyes. He tried to stretch and his joints screamed with every slight movement, a painful reminder of how fragile his body had become. ‘Another day’, he said to himself, though the thought offered little comfort. After waiting a few minutes for the sharpest edge of the pain to dull, he finally forced himself out of bed.

He vaguely remembered that today he had to deliver a blueprint to a client. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had agreed to meet the man at the Akademiya, a decision made out of convenience since it was nearby and wouldn't require too much walking. Lately, Walking meant more pain—pain that would keep him up all night, which wasn’t something he could afford. The design was mostly finished anyway, with just a few details left, so he’d still have most of the day free to rest and, hopefully, keep his body from worsening.

As he made his way out of his room, his eyes fell on the empty coat rack near the front door. The spot where Alhaitham usually hung his cloak was conspicuously bare. ‘Gone all day again’ Kaveh thought, rolling his eyes in mild irritation. With a tired sigh, he headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. He didn’t have the energy for anything complicated, so he grabbed some bread, the simplest thing he could manage. After a quick taste, he poured the rest of his breakfast into a bowl and shuffled back to his room. Setting the bowl on his bedside table, he went to the bathroom to wash up and at least try to make himself look somewhat presentable.

It was while he was washing his face that he noticed how pale he really looked. The bandage that had once covered the scar on his head was gone—Tighnari had taken it off recently, saying the wound had healed well enough. The scar was barely noticeable now, hidden mostly by his hair. Everything else on his body, however, felt far from normal.

Outwardly, he looked fine, but his muscles told a different story. The searing pain that shot through his limbs didn’t match the unblemished appearance of his skin. Perhaps that’s what Nahida had meant when she compared his condition to Eleazar. Some symptoms felt similar, but he had no scales, no outward sign of decay. It was all in his mind—his nervous system, ravaged by the effects of the knowledge capsule.

Thinking about it too much only made his head hurt more, so he wiped his face, closed the bathroom door, and returned to his room, shutting the door behind him. He headed towards his desk, where the blueprint he needed to deliver lay neatly rolled up, but just as he began to approach it, he felt as his leg suddenly gave out beneath him. making him stumble and collapse onto his knees with a hard thud.
The fall wasn’t particularly harsh, but on his already aching muscles, it felt like his entire body had crashed from a plane. Kaveh bit down on his lip to stifle a scream, his eyes squeezed shut as he waited for the pain to subside. It radiated from his knees to his spine, each pulse making his vision blur.

‘Just breathe’, he told himself, and he waited there, on the floor, until the worst of it passed.

Once he finally felt steady enough, he planted both hands on the ground, trying to push himself back up. He leaned forward to rise himself with his left leg, but to his surprise, nothing happened. His legs remained still, limp beneath him.

A cold shock ran through him in that second. For a brief moment, he thought he had imagined it. Maybe his legs were just slow to react. He tried again—more forcefully this time—and his legs stayed motionless, unresponsive.

Kaveh stared at them in disbelief, the realization creeping over him slowly, like a cold, unwelcome wave. His legs weren’t moving. They weren’t reacting at all.

Seconds passed like hours, and then, like a dam breaking, tears welled up in his eyes. They slipped down his cheeks uncontrollably, blurring his vision until the world around him became a watery haze. The fear he’d been trying so hard to push aside was now staring him right in the face. There was no more denying it—there was no going back.

‘Stupid capsule’ he cursed with clenched teeth, hitting the floor with both hands, his anger boiling over as tears fell on the floor.

His mind raced as fast as the tears, thoughts spiraling between panic and resignation. Alhaitham crossed his mind at first, then Cyno, Tighnari, and even Lesser Lord Kusanali. What would they think of him now? What could they do? The thought of dying—of leaving everything behind—had always felt like something foreign, but now it was looming, close enough to touch, and Kaveh realized he wasn´t really as prepared as he thought.

Sobbing quietly, he dragged himself across the floor, the pain in his joints making every inch agonizing. He moved his legs into a more comfortable position, though comfort seemed like a distant memory at this point. Once he was settled, he laid back against the cold floor, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Closing his eyes, the blonde let the darkness surround him, a single thought running through his mind.

When will Alhaitham come home?

.-.-

The sound of keys jingling against the door pulled the architect from the haze he had forcefully drifted into.

His eyes, still swollen from crying, blinked open with great effort, as he remembered what happened before falling asleep.

He raised his head off the hard surface with a groan, and glanced towards the window. It wasn’t dark outside, but it wasn't morning either. How much time had passed? Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, though it was awkward and uncomfortable. He tried to move his legs, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a faint twitch —a small glimmer of hope that maybe they were regaining some strength. With a couple of tries, he would soon realize that the reality was far less comforting. While he could manage slight movements, he still didn’t have the power to stand up by himself, much less to walk without falling again in the process.

Hearing the sound of footsteps echo through the house, Kaveh let out a sigh of relief. He was lucky Alhaitham had come home earlier than expected. He dragged himself towards the chair by his desk, intending to use it as support to stand up. His joints, though still sore, didn’t scream in pain as much as before. Bracing himself, he tried to place his knee on the ground and push upwards. But his body was too weak, and the effort too draining. His limbs gave out, and he collapsed back to the floor with a frustrated sigh.

Lying there, Kaveh strained to listen to what was happening outside his room. Alhaitham’s footsteps moved through the living room, then passed down the hallway—right past his door. Of course, Kaveh winced. He had closed it earlier without thinking. Without stopping, Alhaitham walked straight to his own room, and soon after, Kaveh heard the sound of a door shutting firmly behind him.

‘Dammit’ The blonde thought to himself as he clenched his fists, frustration building up in his chest. He had forgotten two very important things: first, Alhaitham was still avoiding him, and second, without the ability to speak or walk, he had no real way to call for help. Especially now, trapped in his room with the door closed.

Panic welled up in his chest as the weight of his helplessness pressed down on him. He scanned the room, his eyes darting from corner to corner. What could he do? Dragging himself across the floor to Alhaitham’s room would be exhausting, and likely impossible in his current state. He needed to get Alhaitham’s attention. Maybe making a loud noise was his best option.

Lately, the scribe had stopped using his noise-cancelling headphones when he was at home, so there was a chance he’d hear something if it was loud enough. Kaveh grimaced at the thought of hitting something with his hands—the pain would be unbearable later- but if he could knock something over or break something, that might work. His eyes fell on the bowl from his earlier meal, still resting on his bedside table. That would do.

With great effort, he crawled over to the table, grabbed the bowl with his right hand, and, almost as an afterthought, ate the cold remains of his breakfast. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment, but it wasn’t time to linger on that. With the bowl now empty, Kaveh considered where to throw it. Would the wall make enough noise?

His gaze flicked toward the wall that bordered Alhaitham’s room, and summoning all the strength he could muster, he raised his arm and hurled the bowl towards the wardrobe. It smashed into the corner of one of the doors and shattered with the impact, the pieces of glass scattering across the floor in a sharp cascade. Kaveh instinctively covered his face, bracing for any shards to fly his way, but none reached him. The house fell silent for a few tense moments, and Kaveh held his breath, listening, hoping.

It wasn’t long before he heard it—the unmistakable sound of Alhaitham’s door opening abruptly, and his heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway, faster than Kaveh had expected. A sense of both relief and fear washed over him as the door to his room was thrown open, the scribe standing in his doorway.

“Kaveh—” his voice rang out. There was a hint of panic in his voice, and the thought alone made the blonde’s chest tighten painfully. Alhaitham took a step into the room and scanned the scene before him. His sharp eyes took at the broken glass on the floor and the way Kaveh lay slumped on the ground, staring at him.

“What are you doing on the floor?” he finally asked, though there was a roughness to his voice that made the words sound more like an accusation. “And how did you break that?” He gestured towards the shattered bowl, the sharp edge in his tone failing to mask the concern in his gaze.

Kaveh narrowed his eyes at him, frustration evident in his eyes. He pressed his lips together, clearly unable to explain it in his state. After a brief pause, he raised his hands and mimed writing on his palm, signaling for Alhaitham to bring him something to write with. He pointed towards his desk, where he had scattered papers and writing tools all over. The scribe, catching his gestures, moved swiftly towards the desk, grabbing a pen and a sheet. He studied Kaveh for a moment while he wasn't looking. noticing his reddened eyes, unmistakable signs of hours spent crying. A glimmer of concern crossed his usually unreadable face.

Returning to the blonde’s side, he handed him the supplies. Kaveh, sitting awkwardly on the floor, immediately tried to write, but as soon as he started forming the first word, his fingers began to go numb again. His grip faltered, and the pen slipped from his hand, clattering against the floor. Frustration swelled within him like a tidal wave, and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop the tears that threatened to resurface.

Trying again, the architect picked up the pen with both hands this time, his movements shaky and strained. Alhaitham watched him in silence, his gaze sharp but attentive, noting every tremor in Kaveh’s hands. After another failed attempt to control the pen, the blonde let out a quiet breath, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Seeing his distress, Alhaitham crouched down beside him, his hands covering Kaveh's in a firm but gentle grip. “Kaveh,” Alhaitham murmured, his voice softer than usual, almost coaxing. “You don’t need to push yourself.”

He then gently turned Kaveh’s hand over, making his index finger point toward the palm of his own hand. “Trace the letters,” he suggested, his tone practical, though there was a faint undertone of worry. “You won’t need to put pressure on your joints that way.”

Kaveh blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the suggestion, but then nodded slightly, his expression one of cautious relief. With shaky hands, he began tracing the letters onto Alhaitham’s palm, slow and deliberate.

“Legs” it's what he traced first, and Alhaitham’s tightened his lips, already assuming the rest . “Can't move them,” Kaveh spelled out next, his finger trailing over the scribe’s hand with trembling precision.
"Since when?" he asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge now, more serious, but not devoid of a subtle concern.

Kaveh hesitated, lowering his eyes. He didn’t know how long he had been lying there after falling. He wasn’t even sure what time it was now—afternoon, maybe? Evening? He had lost track of time, but the one thing he did know was that this hadn’t happened before. The complete failure of his body had blindsided him. He hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t anticipated that his condition would worsen so quickly.

He traced the word “Morning” into Alhaitham’s palm and watched as the scribe’s frown deepened, understanding the word.

Morning. That meant Kaveh had been like this—unable to walk, unable to call for help—for hours, possibly since their brief encounter earlier in the day.

Alhaitham remembered passing Kaveh in the hallway, the slight brush of their shoulders, the way neither of them had exchanged more than a glance. He hadn’t thought twice about it at the time; Kaveh had seemed tired but otherwise fine. But now, Kaveh had been lying there—on the floor, struggling alone, and in silence—while Alhaitham had been in the next room, oblivious. The thought alone sent a sharp pang through him.

How had he missed it? He had no way of knowing, of course, but that didn’t stop the guilt from creeping in. He should have checked. He should have anticipated that things could escalate this quickly. Kaveh’s condition had been deteriorating for weeks now, and Alhaitham had known, even if the blonde refused to admit it.

A sudden collapse, the loss of mobility. He hadn’t realized it would progress so rapidly.

His mind started combing through every warning sign, every instance he might have missed—Kaveh’s occasional winces, the times he’d been moving slower than usual. The arguments, the excuses, all the subtle indicators that something was wrong. And Alhaitham had known, on some level, but he had chosen not to confront it head-on. Perhaps he convinced himself there would be more time. That Kaveh would be forced to ask for help before it got this bad. But now, seeing Kaveh like this—struggling, weakened, and trapped in a body that was failing him—it was clear that Alhaitham had miscalculated.

He should have predicted that Kaveh, of all people, would push himself past his limits, and would hide his pain until it became unbearable. That was just who Kaveh was—stubborn, proud, always unwilling to admit weakness until it was too late. And Alhaitham should have seen it coming.

His gaze flickered to his legs, now limp and unresponsive, and his unshakeable composure wavered. *You should have told me” he said after a while, his voice laced with a quiet disappointment that was aimed more at himself than at Kaveh.

The architect’s hands, still trembling, tightened in his lap. He nodded faintly, though deep down, he knew he had never intended to tell him. In his mind, Kaveh had thought that if he avoided the truth long enough, perhaps it would resolve itself. Maybe he’d just collapse one day, and that would be it—sudden, clean, without the weight of having to explain it or confront it. But now, faced with his own helplessness, the reality pressed down on him harder than he had anticipated.

If he couldn’t even stand up on his own, what was he supposed to do? He’d already been a burden these past few months, constantly leaning on Alhaitham without ever really admitting it. But this—this was different. There was no way he would allow himself to become fully dependent on him. He couldn’t. The thought of it churned his stomach, his pride warring with the inevitable truth that he might not have a choice anymore.

Alhaitham remained quiet for a little longer, his eyes carefully watching Kaveh, calculating. “Is it just your legs?” he asked, though his tone was more subjected now, as if preparing for worse news. Kaveh nodded again, feeling a sense of resignation settle in too. The feeling he had before—of moving them slightly—was already gone. His legs were dead weight beneath him, a foreign, immovable part of his body.
Without a word, Alhaitham stepped forward quickly, surprising Kaveh, who blinked in disbelief as the scribe suddenly bent down and wrapped his arm beneath his legs, lifting them off the ground with minimal effort. His other arm circled around the blonde’s waist, pulling him up in one smooth motion. Kaveh gasped, his body tense from the unexpected movement, and a sharp hiss escaped his lips. He instinctively reached out, his fingers clutching at Alhaitham's shirt for balance.

A rush of frustration surged through him. He gestured weakly towards the floor, silently demanding to be put down, his eyes flashing with indignation. But Alhaitham barely glanced at him before speaking.
“Are you really asking me to leave you lying on the floor?" Alhaitham’s voice held a rare note of exasperation. "I’m just taking you to the couch. If you keep fighting me on this, I’ll carry you to Bimarstan myself."

The threat hung in the air, and Kaveh, stiffening as if faced with something far worse than the mere act of being carried, fell silent. His body stilled, though his expression made it clear that he was far from happy with it. He glared at Alhaitham, biting back the urge to argue—not that he could have spoken if he wanted to.

With deliberate care, Alhaitham moved them both to the couch in the adjacent room, lowering Kaveh gently onto the cushions. The scribe was careful with his legs, making sure they rested in a comfortable position. But for Kaveh, it was still an unfamiliar and humiliating sensation. His own body felt alien to him, as though a part of him had simply stopped being his. His legs felt like dead weight, and the thought of relying on Alhaitham for something as basic as moving filled him with a burning resentment.

"Wait here" Alhaitham said, already turning on his heel. Kaveh gave a small nod, though it wasn’t like Alhaitham was looking at him to see it. It wasn’t long before he returned, carrying a strange pair of ear devices that looked familiar to the ones he wore all the time. The scribe knelt before him, placing the device on Kaveh’s legs with a certain weight to the gesture. Confusion flickered in Kaveh’s eyes as he tilted his head slightly, unsure what he was trying to do.

Alhaitham’s gaze softened, though the intensity of his focus remained. "I imagine you've noticed I've been distant these past few days." he said, the words coming slower, deliberate. Kaveh nodded, his irritation rising again. ‘Of course I noticed, you idiot’, he wanted to say, though his eyes spoke volumes.

Taking a breath, Alhaitham continued. "Cyno interviewed the Eremites." His tone shifted, becoming more focused as he explained. "They didn’t say much, just confirmed that they had used the capsule on you, but that despite what it may seem, it hadn’t been part of their original plan." He hesitated, watching Kaveh for a reaction, but the architect’s expression remained impassive.

"Cyno let them go, but he’s been trailing them in secret since. It took weeks, and they were being careful at the start, but eventually we managed to track down the group responsible for creating the capsule. It turns out most of them were Akademiya students—just kids, really. There was only one adult among them, the sage who had been guiding them, the one Cyno told us about before. We got enough evidence to imprison everyone."

Kaveh’s eyes widened at the revelation, his breath catching. ‘Students?’ he thought with pity. They were young… too young to end up like that.

"We reported everything to Kusanali, and we collected the model of the capsules they had been making. Nahida checked them and, luckily for us, they turned out to be copies, as she originally thought. The forbidden knowledge that was canned inside wasn’t extracted from the Irminsul, It was artificially created based on what was known about the original. Nahida told us that this was good news, and she helped us piece together a solution, one that could reverse the effects of the capsule—at least, to an extent. We wanted to tell you, but she said that we should hold off telling you, since there's still something important we're missing." The scribe said as his gaze shifted briefly to the ear devices in his hands.

"We need a memory." Alhaitham's voice lowered, his frustration creeping through. "Without it, Kusanali’s solution won’t hold. She's been searching the Irminsul, but there’s been no sign of it so far." He paused, his expression darkening. "Once we discuss on the matter, she gave me this," he gestured to the device, "in hopes that it could help us track the origin of the problem and, more importantly, undo some of the damage."

Kaveh swallowed hard as Alhaitham’s words sank in. "She advised me not to use it until you were eager to tell me the truth by yourself, but you won't answer me, and I don't know what else to do." he added, his voice catching slightly, as though admitting that fact that he was, for once, out of options.

"I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around," Alhaitham said, his voice thick with emotion. There was a tremor in his hands as he reached for Kaveh’s, clasping them tightly. The architect blinked at his gesture, his breath faltering and his vision blurring as he stared at their intertwined fingers. "I know I’ve said things that were... harsh. I don’t always understand you. But I’m asking you to trust me this time. Please, Kaveh. Let me help you."

Kaveh’s heart raced as Alhaitham met his gaze, searching for an answer in the blonde's eyes.

“Before you give me a response, put these on.” he then said, lifting the strange pair of headphones off Kaveh’s legs, holding them up as if they were the key to a long-awaited solution. Kaveh’s brow furrowed in confusion. Now that he could see the device up close, he noticed how similar they were to Alhaitham’s own, except for the subtle green glow of Dendro energy swirling gently around them. That glow was unmistakable.

“Nahida´s gift” Alhaitham explained, his voice unnervingly calm. “A communicator, specially designed to allow us to speak through our minds. It should also help with the pain.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened in shock. Could the Dendro Archon really have created something so extraordinary just for him?

Alhaitham leaned closer, moving to place the headphones over Kaveh’s head, his hands gentle but insistent. For a moment, Kaveh froze, still processing what Alhaitham had said, but as soon as he felt the scribe’s hands brushing over his ears, reality hit him like a cold wave. In a panic, he raised his trembling hands to stop Alhaitham from proceeding.

“No,” Kaveh mouthed, shaking his head vigorously. He wasn’t sure what that thing would do to him. He’d heard Alhaitham’s explanation, but something about it seemed... off. Hadn’t Nahida specifically warned them not to use the communicator yet? What was Alhaitham thinking, going against the advice of an Archon? Was he out of his mind?

Alhaitham blinked in surprise at the sudden resistance, his brows knitting together, but his hands remained where they were, hovering over Kaveh’s ears. “Let me put them on, Kaveh,” he said, his voice unusually soft, almost coaxing.

Kaveh shook his head more adamantly, pulling his hands back to cover his ears in a defensive gesture. Alhaitham’s frustration mounted, his lips pressing into a thin line. He sighed.

“You really don’t want to fight me on this, not in the condition you’re in.” His voice had lost some of its gentleness, edged now with impatience. “Please, just put them on.”

Again, Kaveh refused, his eyes hardening. He wasn’t a fool. He knew exactly what Alhaitham wanted. This wasn’t just about communication—it was about that memory. The memory of the accident, the one Kaveh had refused to share. Alhaitham wanted to pull it from him, force it into the open. No way. He wasn’t gonna comply with that. His hands tightened against his ears as if physically blocking Alhaitham from his thoughts.

Looking at him, the scribe sighed again, this time more heavily, more resigned. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. His eyes darkened, and when he spoke again, his tone was sharper, laced with a subtle but unmistakable irritation. “Do you even understand what you’re risking?”

Kaveh clenched his jaw but remained silent, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor.

“You’re playing with your life, Kaveh,” Alhaitham continued, his words now cutting like blades. “What do you think I’ve been researching all this time? The forbidden knowledge in your head isn’t inherently dangerous—it's a copy. But it’s tricking your mind, making you experience the symptoms as if they’re real. It’s capable of killing you, and you want to gamble that away over... what? A whim? A stubborn refusal to tell me the truth?”

Kaveh’s hands clenched into fists as Alhaitham’s words sank in. A whim? Did Alhaitham really think he was being petty? His face flushed with anger, and he shook his head again, refusing to meet the scribe’s eyes.

Alhaitham’s voice grew colder. “I don’t understand you, Kaveh. Why won’t you just tell me what happened that day?”

Kaveh’s anger flared. He glared at Alhaitham and shook his head with such force that his hair fell messily into his face, obscuring his vision. He reached up with both hands and swatted at the communicator, as if even the proximity of the device was too much. Alhaitham frowned and tried to press the headphones back into place, but Kaveh was done. With what little strength he had left, he pushed at Alhaitham, trying to knock the device from his hands, but the scribe didn’t relent.

They struggled for a brief moment—Alhaitham’s patience thinning with every second that passed—until finally, the scribe stopped, realizing that it was pointless. He let out a long, frustrated breath and leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if willing himself to stay calm.

“Very well,” Alhaitham said, his voice low and dangerous. “If you won’t cooperate with your own situation, I’ll inform Nahida that we’ll proceed with Plan B.”

Kaveh froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Plan B?

“If we can’t retrieve the original memory, we won’t be able to remove the root of the forbidden knowledge,” Alhaitham continued, standing and taking the headphones away. His movements were slow, deliberate, like a man about to make a decision he knew the other wouldn’t like. “But Nahida never said we couldn’t move it.”

Kaveh’s stomach twisted into knots as Alhaitham tucked the communicator into his belt.

“She mentioned to me in private that most of the effects could be stopped if we transferred the knowledge to a controlled vessel. Technically, the knowledge would remain in your mind, but its symptoms would no longer manifest.”

Alhaitham’s eyes were sharp as they locked onto Kaveh’s, gauging his reaction. “Given the circumstances, I’ve volunteered to be the substitute vessel.”

Kaveh’s entire body tensed. His breathing hitched. Alhaitham’s words struck him like a slap to the face. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—let him do that.

“I’m not going to let you throw your life away, Kaveh.” the scribe said. His tone was serious, almost final. “If you have nothing else to say, I’ll go speak with Nahida now.”

He turned toward the door, but before he could take more than a few steps, Kaveh’s hand shot out, grasping the edge of Alhaitham’s cloak with a trembling, desperate grip.

‘Don’t’ Kaveh’s mind screamed, though his voice couldn’t form the word. His grip tightened. He couldn’t let Alhaitham do this.

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham muttered, trying to shake him off. “Let go.”

The architect didn’t let it go. If anything, his grip only tightened further, his hand trembling with the strain of holding on. His breath quickened, panic flooding his veins. He couldn’t let this happen—he couldn’t. He clenched the fabric so hard that his knuckles turned white, pulling Alhaitham back with whatever strength he had left. He was desperate, fighting through the haze of his failing body.

Alhaitham stopped, glancing back at him with furrowed brows. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he said, but there was something softer, almost worried, in his tone now.

Kaveh’s fingers dug deeper into the fabric, his breath coming out in shallow, frantic gasps. He couldn’t move his legs, but that didn’t matter. He threw himself forward, his upper body lunging at Alhaitham as he fell to the floor, his hands gripping Alhaitham’s leg with all the desperation of a man clinging to the edge of a cliff.

Alhaitham, startled by the sudden movement, stepped back instinctively, but it was too late. Kaveh had already latched onto him, pulling himself with all the strength he had left, his legs useless beneath him. He fell hard against the floor, his chest heaving from the effort, but he refused to let go.

Surprised, the scribe knelt down to help him, hands firmly on Kaveh’s shoulders as he lifted his face from the floor, checking to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself in the fall. Alhaitham’s brow furrowed with concern, his fingers brushing lightly over Kaveh’s skin, searching for any signs of injury. But before he could say anything, Kaveh moved—swiftly, desperately.

Without hesitation, he threw his arms around Alhaitham’s neck, clinging to him with all the strength he had left. His grip was tight, as if it was his last chance, his last plea to make him stay. The sudden embrace caught Alhaitham off guard, and he stiffened, trying to pull away, but Kaveh held on stubbornly, his breath shaky with soft, barely audible sobs. Each small, ragged inhale only deepened the growing ache in Alhaitham’s chest.

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham muttered under his breath, his voice strained with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name. He glanced down at the architect, whose body trembled against him, and his resolve wavered. He sighed, and his hand, almost of its own accord, settled on Kaveh’s back, rubbing slow, soothing circles over the fabric of his clothes.

"You're impossible, Kaveh," he murmured, though the words were more for himself than anyone else. His tone was softer now, resigned. He let his hand linger on Kaveh’s back, feeling the subtle tremors of his sobs as they passed between them. The weight of Kaveh’s grief—his desperation—was palpable.

After a moment, Alhaitham spoke again, his voice gentler this time. “Are you going to cooperate with me, then?”

Kaveh didn’t answer at first, too choked by his emotions, his body still tense as he pressed his face into the crook of Alhaitham’s neck. But then, slowly, he nodded, his head moving in short, frantic jerks as if that simple motion was all he could manage. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was stopping Alhaitham from leaving. From doing something irreversible.

"Alright," Alhaitham said softly, his tone carrying a hint of relief. He gently pried Kaveh’s arms from around his neck, finally breaking the embrace. Kaveh, his hands shaking, released his hold, though reluctance lingered in his eyes.

Alhaitham’s hand lingered on Kaveh’s cheek, his thumb brushing away the wetness left behind by his tears. For a moment, their eyes locked, and Alhaitham let out a heavy sigh. His gaze was intense, filled with an emotion so heavy, so raw, that Kaveh could almost believe it was... something more. If he didn’t know any better, he might have mistaken it for love.

Yet still, the look in Alhaitham’s eyes stayed with him, making it hard to breathe.

Wordlessly, the scribe reached into his belt and pulled out the headphones again, offering them to Kaveh. The blonde hesitated, his hand hovering in the air for a moment, before he took them with a shaky nod. His fingers fumbled with the device, his movements clumsy and uncertain as his hair tangled with the straps, making it difficult to put them on.

When Kaveh finally managed to secure the headphones in place, the soft glow of Dendro energy intensified, casting a faint greenish light around the room. At the same time, he noticed the subtle shift in Alhaitham’s own headphones—they, too, began to glow, syncing with his. For a moment, nothing happened. The silence stretched, filled only by the rhythmic pulse of his own heartbeat in his ears.

Then, out of nowhere, a voice echoed in his mind.

“Can you hear me?” Alhaitham’s voice resonated within him, clear and unmistakable.

Kaveh blinked, startled by the sudden intrusion of sound. He knew the voice was Alhaitham’s, but hearing it like this—directly in his mind—was jarring, unsettling. He swallowed, unsure how to respond.

“Alhaitham?” Kaveh's voice trembled, barely a whisper in the silence between them. He swore he saw a flicker of amusement—perhaps even a smile—cross Alhaitham's face for the briefest moment.

“So this is what you meant by talking through the mind…” Kaveh continued, his tone laced with both wonder and unease.

Alhaitham nodded, his eyes briefly shutting as if the act of concentrating required more effort than he cared to admit. “Exactly. Nahida said it would be like a natural conversation, but,” he allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch upward, “it doesn’t feel quite the same, does it?”

Kaveh huffed, a small, forced smile pulling at his lips. “Your voice… it’s everywhere in my head. It’s overwhelming, Alhaitham.”

“I know,” the scribe replied softly, raising a hand toward the headphones resting on Kaveh’s ears. “But bear with it for a moment, alright?”

Kaveh tensed instinctively at the closeness of Alhaitham’s fingers near his ear. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, his voice faltering as his anxiety built.

“The device has the ability to transmit memories in the form of dreams, from one person to another. Nahida said it’s limited in its scope, but it should allow you to show me what happened that day without having to explain it verbally” He paused, watching Kaveh carefully. “You just need to think of the memory, and I’ll see it too. Do you understand?”

Kaveh’s face twisted into a pained grimace, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, tugging it absentmindedly as if trying to distract himself from the inevitable. “Are you really sure this is the only way?”

Alhaitham’s expression darkened slightly, his voice lowering to a serious, steady tone. “Believe me, if there were another way, I’d take it. Why do you think I’ve been pushing you to tell me in the first place?”

For a moment, silence fell between them. The weight of what Kaveh had been hiding hung heavy in the air, the truth lingering just out of reach. Alhaitham waited, his patience thinning but unyielding. Kaveh stared at the ground, biting his lip as he grappled with the decision. His mind raced through every possibility, every outcome—none of them favorable.

After what felt like an eternity, the blonde sighed, his resolve crumbling under the pressure. “Fine. You win. But,” he added quickly, his voice sharp with urgency, “you have to promise me something. You won’t question me afterward, and you won’t do anything stupid once you know, okay? Promise me, Alhaitham.”

The firmness of Kaveh’s request caught Alhaitham off guard, and for a split second, genuine surprise flashed in his eyes. He leaned back slightly, studying Kaveh’s face, his concern deepening with every second that passed. “What could possibly be so bad that you’d need me to promise something like that?” His voice had dropped to a hushed murmur, the serious tone unmistakable.

“Just promise me,” Kaveh pressed, his crimson eyes burning with intensity as he met Alhaitham’s gaze head-on, searching for any sign of dishonesty.

After a long pause, the scribe relented. “Alright,” he said, his voice softer now. “I promise.”

He could feel the weight of Kaveh’s stare, those fiery red eyes lingering on him as if trying to discern whether the promise was sincere. The architect didn’t look away for a long while, his gaze steady and piercing, as though measuring the truth in Alhaitham’s words.

Finally, Kaveh exhaled shakily, his body relaxing just slightly. “Okay,” he said, his voice almost too quiet to hear. “Let’s get this over with.”

His hands shook as he adjusted the headphones on his head, the tension in his posture returning as he prepared himself for what was to come. “I just have to think about it, right?”

Alhaitham nodded once more, his own eyes closing as he prepared for the connection to deepen. “Yes. Just think of the memory, and I’ll see it too. Focus.”

Kaveh winced, his features tightening in discomfort. He closed his eyes, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. He could feel the weight of Alhaitham’s presence next to him, steady but overwhelming. Bracing himself for whatever came next, Kaveh took a deep breath and let his mind wander—back to that day, the day he had tried so hard to bury.

Whatever happens now, Kaveh thought, was out of his hands.

.-.-

After the blinding white light, the first thing Kaveh remembered was the stifling pressure of a rough bag pulled over his head, the air hot and suffocating as panic surged through him.

His breath hitched, but he barely had the time to react before strong hands seized him by the arms, making it impossible to reach for his weapon. Instinctively, he struggled, his fingers twitching uselessly toward the hilt of his blade, but he couldn’t see. His world was reduced to the darkness of the cloth pressing against his face and the sounds of his own rapid breathing.

He kicked out wildly, his voice caught in his throat, but then he felt himself being yanked to the ground. A harsh shove from behind sent him sprawling. Pain shot through his knees and wrists as they hit the hard surface beneath him. Before he could fight back, more hands pinned his arms behind his back, wrenching them into a painful angle, and then bound his wrists together with coarse ropes. Kaveh writhed, letting out a sharp, frustrated grunt.

"Stop squirming, you piece of trash!" barked one of the voices above him. Kaveh didn’t recognize it. There was no clue as to who these people were or what they wanted. His mind raced. Where had Alhaitham gone? Just moments ago, they’d been together—was this an ambush? He threw another kick, hoping to catch someone off guard, but it was no use. They had him fully restrained now, his legs tied up just as tightly as his hands.

Breathing heavily, Kaveh spoke through clenched teeth. "Whatever you’re after, I think you’ve got the wrong person."

There was no response, only the murmur of voices, low and indistinct. He strained to listen, trying to pick up any details, but the bag over his head muffled everything. He caught snippets, though: something about a trap, something about a mistake.

"It’s the wrong target!" one of the voices shouted, this one sharper, more annoyed. "You idiots! How could you mess this up? He doesn’t look anything like him!"

Kaveh’s pulse quickened. Wrong target? Who were they after then? He shifted his weight slightly, testing the strength of his bindings. There was no give. He was trapped.

"The mechanism was set to trigger for whoever stepped into it! How were we supposed to know it wasn’t him? The client said he would come alone!" another voice argued back, clearly defensive.

Suddenly, the bag was yanked from his head, and Kaveh blinked against the sudden brightness, his eyes adjusting to the light. His vision swam for a moment, but when it cleared, he found himself staring up at a group of irritated Eremites. Their faces were a mixture of frustration and anger, and none of them looked pleased to see him.

One of them, a man with a scar across his cheek, was rubbing his temple in exasperation. Kaveh’s gaze flicked from him to the others, trying to make sense of the situation. "What the hell do we do now?" the man grumbled.

A woman beside him, who seemed to be in charge, crossed her arms and stared down at Kaveh with an unimpressed look. "We were supposed to capture the Acting Grand Sage," she said coldly, her voice tinged with irritation. "And now, thanks to your incompetence, we’ve got him instead."

The scarred man kicked the dirt in frustration. “It's my fault now, sure. So now what? We don’t get paid unless we bring back the scribe, and he’s not gonna walk into this trap after this screw-up."

Kaveh’s chest tightened at their words. Alhaitham. They were after Alhaitham? He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more worried. These people had clearly planned to capture an specific target, and now that they had the wrong person, they were likely even more angry with him. He swallowed hard, trying to think of a way out, but the woman caught his eye, her expression shifting as if a thought had just crossed her mind.

She crouched down, her lips curling into a slow, calculating smile. "Maybe it’s not all lost," she said, her tone sickeningly sweet. "You’re Kaveh, aren’t you? The Light of Kshahrewar. The esteemed architect."

Kaveh heard her, but didn’t answer, his eyes narrowing.

"And," she continued, her voice dropping slightly, "you’re close to the Grand Sage, aren’t you? You could be useful after all."

The blonde let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as best he could in his restrained position. "Useful? Alhaitham doesn’t give a damn about me. If you think you can use me to leverage anything out of him, you’re wrong."

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. She stood and glanced at the others. "Oh, I’m not so sure. Everybody has seen the way he watches over you. You’re important to him, and that means we can use you."

The group began to murmur again, their attention now fully on Kaveh. He felt the cold sweat prickling at the back of his neck as his eyes darted around the room. They were still inside the ruin, but deeper now, in a chamber that likely hasn’t been used for years. Was he teleported? Then Alhaitham was surely still outside.

He tried to activate his Vision, feeling the pulse of its power, but there was no response. Mehrak had stayed behind with Alhaitham. That left him with almost no options.

One of the Eremites walked forward and pulled a strange object from his pack, and Kaveh’s eyes widened.

A capsule of knowledge, glowing a deep, menacing red. He recognized it instantly, dread settling like a stone in his stomach. Alhaitham studied them a while ago, and he told him about them.

The woman smiled again, watching his reaction closely. "Ah, I see you know what this is. Good. Our client gave this to us, for the scribe." she explained. "He said that It’s designed to destroy the mind, piece by piece. A slow, painful process. I’m very sure you know about them right?"

Kaveh’s blood ran cold. He shook his head. "You can’t... you can’t use that. You’ll kill him."

She shrugged. "That’s the idea."

"Wait!" Kaveh's voice cracked, his heart racing as he tried to reason with her. "You don’t understand! That capsule—it’s not just dangerous. If it’s used improperly, it could—" He stopped himself, the panic in his voice rising. "It could do more than just destroy a mind. It could—"

"Quiet," she cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. "Your concern is touching, but irrelevant."

From above, Kaveh heard a distant rumbling, the faint sound of machinery and footsteps echoing through the ruins. His heart skipped a beat. Alhaitham.

The woman noticed it too and smirked, her gaze settling back on Kaveh. "Looks like your prince charming is arriving to rescue you."

Kaveh’s mind raced. Alhaitham was strong, no doubt about it, but these Eremites had numbers. Worse, if they threatened his life—if they even hinted at putting a blade to his throat—Alhaitham would give up without a second thought.

This was bad.

The woman’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts. “The mechanisms will delay him for at least an hour. Let’s prepare for his arrival.”

Panic gripped Kaveh as he watched the Eremites draw weapons and gather tools. He had to act quickly. The woman’s order was clear: they were preparing for a confrontation with Alhaitham, and if that capsule was used on him, it could irreparably damage his mind. The thought was horrifying.

As Kaveh’s mind raced, the woman noticed his restless movements and commanded one of her companions to gag him. An Eremite approached with a leather strip, and terror surged through him. Without thinking, he braced himself against the ground and, with a burst of energy, propelled himself towards the Eremite. He managed to knock the man down with a kick, sending him sprawling on the floor. The other Eremites scrambled in surprise, but Kaveh’s momentary distraction was all he needed.

Summoning a surge of dendro energy, Kaveh unleashed a powerful wave that toppled the remaining Eremites. With the room momentarily cleared, Kaveh crawled towards the red capsule that was the source of his dread. His energy flared as he reached for it, but just as he was about to connect his vision to it, the woman’s piercing scream halted him.

“No! Stop him!” she shouted to her comrades.

Kaveh’s hands trembled as he touched the capsule. He hoped against hope that he could deactivate it somehow, but the capsule seemed designed solely to release knowledge, not to be turned off. The Eremites surged towards him again, and with his options dwindling, Kaveh made a desperate decision. His mind focused solely on Alhaitham's safety, and thinking of it, he activated the capsule.

The moment the strange device was triggered, a wave of energy burst forth, enveloping the room. Kaveh felt a searing pain rip through his head, an agonizing, unrelenting torture that made him cry out. His screams echoed in the chamber as the woman stared in shock. “He’s using the capsule!” she shouted, her face paling as the effects became apparent.

The Eremites were in disarray, their shouts and commands blending into a chaotic blur. Kaveh’s world became a maelstrom of pain, the mental agony akin to having his skull cracked open. The figures of the Eremites around him were distorted, their movements jerky and blurred. The torment was unbearable; he felt as if his very essence was being torn apart.

Suddenly, a sharp blow to his head jolted him back to a grim reality. He let out a strangled cry as the woman’s furious face loomed over him. “You fool!” she yelled. “Now what do we tell our client?”

Kaveh’s vision was hazy, tears streaming down his face. The woman’s angry voice seemed distant and muffled as one of the Eremites asked what they should do next. The woman’s response was quick and cold. “Get rid of him, and make him pay. We’ll have to deal with the consequences ourselves. Leave no physical evidence.”

They grabbed Kaveh roughly, dragging him across the cold stone floor deeper into the ruins, his body limp and unresisting. His surroundings blurred into darkness, only the faint echo of their footsteps ringing in his ears. They brought him to a more isolated room, a damp, oppressive chamber far from the temple’s main hall. As they threw him against the wall, Kaveh's head hit the stone with a dull thud, momentarily blurring his already scattered thoughts. He blinked, trying to shake off the dizziness, but his limbs were heavy, useless.

A rough hand yanked him upright, forcing him to his knees. Voices buzzed around him, insults flying, but Kaveh couldn’t focus. He was drowning in his own disorientation, barely clinging to awareness as they circled him, predatory eyes watching with cruel anticipation.

“Make sure he stays quiet,” she instructed with a cruel edge to her tone. The Eremites complied, one of them grabbing a thick cloth and shoving it into Kaveh’s mouth, muffling his desperate cries.
“You’ll pay for this, and trust me, no one will find out. We’ll make sure of it."

Kaveh’s heart pounded wildly in his chest, the fear coiling tighter with every second. His mind raced, searching for any way to escape, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Bound and beaten, he had no strength left to fight them. One of the men grabbed his hair, pulling his head back painfully, forcing him to meet their cold, merciless stares.

"Let’s make sure he learns his lesson," one of them sneered.

What came next wasn’t just violence—it was humiliation. They stripped him of any remaining dignity, their hands rough, invasive. Kaveh’s breath caught in his throat as they touched him all over, leaving him vulnerable, exposed.

The room became a twisted nightmare of pain and degradation. Every touch, every whisper, every mocking laugh carved into him deeper than any physical wound. They weren’t just hurting him—they were breaking him, piece by piece, until there was nothing left to hold on to. His body shook uncontrollably, not just from the cold but from the unbearable weight of their abuse. The room spun around him, and the voices faded in and out, blending together in a sickening cacophony.

“You think you’re special because you’re ‘the Light of Kshahrewar’? Let’s see how bright you are now,” one of them sneered, spitting the words into his ear.

They taunted him, degraded him, reducing him to something less than human in their eyes. Kaveh’s mind screamed for them to stop, but his body was frozen, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. He could feel the burn of tears on his face, but even that small release was taken from him, drowned by the overwhelming weight of his torment.

Then, as if it couldn’t get worse, the physical blows began. The first hit came hard and fast, knocking the breath from his lungs. His body crumpled under the impact, but they didn’t stop. Again and again, they struck him, each blow calculated to inflict maximum pain without leaving any incriminating marks. His head snapped back violently with each hit, and soon, the world around him became a blur of agonizing light and shadow.

The beating went on, relentless and brutal. Every strike reverberated through his already broken body, his bones aching, his skin bruised and raw. The sound of their fists connecting with his flesh filled the air, accompanied by their laughter, their mocking voices echoing in his mind long after the physical pain faded. They wanted to break him—to shatter whatever strength he had left.

Kaveh’s vision began to fade, the edges of his consciousness fraying as his injuries became too much to bear. But before he lost himself completely, there was one last sensation: the warmth of blood pooling beneath his cheek, sticky and thick as it trickled down from a deep gash in his scalp. His head throbbed violently, and the world tilted on its axis, his thoughts unraveling into darkness.

The final thing Kaveh felt, before his mind gave way to unconsciousness, was not the pain—but the deep, crushing weight of shame.

A small part of his lucid mind begged Celestia for the group of eremites to leave by the time Alhaitham arrived, and with that, he passed out.

.-.-

The memory dissolved into darkness, and Kaveh's eyes snapped open, his breath hitching in his throat as the weight of the memory finally receded. For a moment, everything was too graphic—the raw echoing of their voices still clawing at his mind, the relentless pounding of his heart in his chest. His body tensed, and his muscles coiled in readiness to defend against a threat that no longer existed. It took a few seconds for reality to settle back into place, for the feeling of the cold stone beneath him and the cruel hands of the Eremites to fade away into the distance. He blinked, his vision clearing slowly, and the soft light of his home began to take shape.

The familiar sight of Alhaitham sitting beside him grounded him back in the present, though the transition felt jarring. Kaveh sucked in a shaky breath, his body still buzzing with the adrenaline that had coursed through him in the memory. It had felt so real this time. More vivid, more detailed, as if the recollection had been sharpened somehow, its jagged edges slicing through his mind with terrifying clarity. He wasn’t sure if it had been the headphones or the emotional strain of sharing the truth with Alhaitham, but the experience was unlike any of the other times the memory had resurfaced.

The silence that hung between them was thick and suffocating, wrapping around Kaveh’s throat like an invisible chain. His fingers, still intertwined with Alhaitham’s, began to tremble, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. The warmth of Alhaitham’s hands had anchored him throughout the ordeal, but now... now he dreaded looking at his face.

A suffocating guilt weighed down on his chest, heavy and oppressive. The truth had finally come out, the fact that he had been the one to activate the capsule. and not the Eremites, not by some external force. It had been his choice, a desperate gamble made in the hopes of saving Alhaitham from a terrible fate. And now, after all this time trying to keep it to himself, the scribe knew it too. Kaveh’s heart clenched painfully, the shame swirling inside him like a storm threatening to tear him apart. His head bowed, and he let his gaze fall to their joined hands, unable to bring himself to look at Alhaitham in the eye. What was he thinking now? Was he furious? Disappointed?

The silence stretched on, unbearable in its weight. Kaveh couldn’t stand it any longer. His breath hitched, and before he could stop himself, he activated the mental link through the headphones, speaking directly into Alhaitham’s mind.

“Before you say anything about how stupid that was...” His voice was trembling slightly, but he forced himself to push through the words. “I hope you understand that I was in a really complicated situation, okay? I was terrified of what might’ve happened to you if they used that capsule on your mind. I didn’t have time to think—if I’d let them use it on you, they would’ve destroyed your mind, and I’m not a good fighter. I couldn’t—" His voice faltered, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the panic down. "I couldn’t let that happen.”

His heart raced, the words tumbling out faster now, a desperate attempt to justify what he had done. “I didn’t want you to find out because... it didn’t seem worth it. I mean, I’m telling you now, but only so you don't do anything stupid or... or try to fix what can’t be fixed in my—”

Before he could finish, he felt Alhaitham’s hands slip away from his, and for a moment, his heart stuttered in fear. He braced himself for the inevitable reprimand, for the anger that he was certain was about to come. He’d prepared for it. He deserved it. Yet, what came next wasn’t anger at all.

In one swift movement, Alhaitham’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Kaveh’s breath caught in his throat, his mind freezing in shock. For a moment, he couldn’t move—his body stiffened, eyes wide as he struggled to process what was happening. Alhaitham had never been one for physical affection, at least not in any outward display like this. Yet here he was, holding Kaveh with a force that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, as if letting go would mean losing something vital.

The blonde's heart pounded wildly in his chest. He could feel the tremor in Alhaitham’s body, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly as he clung to him, arms locked tight. It was as if all the tension, all the unspoken fears and buried emotions, had finally broken free, and Alhaitham was holding onto him like a lifeline.

The sensation was overwhelming. Kaveh’s breath came in shallow, uneven bursts as he slowly returned the embrace, his own arms wrapping around Alhaitham’s back. He could feel the solidity of Alhaitham’s body against his, the warmth of his touch, and beneath that, the trembling that mirrored his own.

His mind raced, struggling to understand. This wasn’t what he had expected. He had prepared for anger, for disappointment, for the cold distance that often came when Alhaitham withdrew into himself. But this... this was something entirely different. It was vulnerability. It was fear. It was the raw, unfiltered emotion that Kaveh had always suspected lay beneath Alhaitham’s composed exterior but had never dared to believe would come to the surface like this.

The silence in the room shifted, no longer heavy with dread but filled with something else, something deeper. Alhaitham wasn’t speaking, but his actions said more than words ever could. He held Kaveh as if to say he understood.

The architect’s body trembled in response, his chest tightening with a mix of relief and something far more painful. He buried his face against Alhaitham’s shoulder, eyes stinging with the threat of tears he had long since trained himself to hold back. This... this was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to tell Alhaitham. This was the reaction he feared most—not anger, but the raw, gut-wrenching understanding that came with knowing someone cared.

It hurt, far more than any reprimand or scolding could have.

“...This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Kaveh finally whispered into the mental link, his thoughts a jumbled mess of emotions. His grip on Alhaitham tightened, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if letting go would mean unraveling everything. "Stupid junior. I knew this is how you'd react, and I... I don’t know how to handle it.”

Alhaitham said nothing in return, but the silence wasn’t empty. His arms stayed wrapped firmly around Kaveh, offering comfort in the only way he seemed capable of. And in that quiet, in that stillness, Kaveh allowed himself to be vulnerable, just this once. He allowed the fear, the guilt, and the overwhelming weight of everything he had carried to bleed out, trusting that for now, Alhaitham would hold him together.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, neither of them moving, neither of them needing to. For the first time in what seemed like forever, the silence between them wasn’t a barrier—it was a fragile, tender connection. One that, despite everything, neither of them seemed willing to break.

"I'm sorry," Alhaitham’s voice cut through the quiet confort abruptly, so soft that Kaveh almost didn’t catch it. Through the mental link, his words reverberated clearly, wrapped in an emotion that caught Kaveh completely off guard.

Alhaitham never apologized—at least, not like this. The blonde’s breath hitched, his heart stuttering in response as he blinked, lifting his gaze from their joined hands to meet Alhaitham’s eyes. "What... What do you mean? It’s not your fault, Haitham. It’s mine. I messed everything up... again." His voice was shaky, but there was a bitterness underlying his words. "I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”

Alhaitham shook his head, his expression softening in a way Kaveh had never seen before. “You’ve never been a burden, Kaveh. Not once. And... What happened back then wasn’t your fault. I—" He paused, swallowing hard, as if trying to find the right words. "I need you to understand something."

Kaveh stayed quiet, his breath shallow as he waited for Alhaitham to continue. There was something different in his tone—an openness that Alhaitham rarely showed.

“That day, when I found you...” Alhaitham’s voice faltered, and Kaveh felt his grip tighten ever so slightly. “When I walked into that room and saw you lying there, covered in blood—” He stopped, the memory clearly tearing at him from the inside out. “I thought I’d lost you. You weren’t responding, you wouldn’t wake up, and I—” His voice cracked, and for the first time, Kaveh could hear the raw vulnerability in his tone.

Alhaitham took a deep breath, the usual composure he carried wavering. "It felt like the world was slipping away. I didn’t know if you were still breathing. Running through the desert with you in my arms, I kept wondering if... if I was already too late." His jaw clenched, and Kaveh could see the tremor in his hands as he relived that horrible day. “I’ve never been so scared, Kaveh. Not in my entire life.”

The blonde’s eyes widened, tears blurring his vision as he listened. He had never seen Alhaitham like this, never heard him speak with so much emotion. The image of Alhaitham—stoic, unshakable, and rational—crumbled before him, replaced by someone who had been just as terrified, just as devastated.

Alhaitham’s voice grew quieter, softer, almost a whisper. “You have no idea how it felt to hold you in my arms and not know if you’d wake up. I kept telling myself that I couldn’t lose you. Not like that.”

Tears slipped down Kaveh’s cheeks, his heart clenching painfully as Alhaitham’s words sunk in. He hadn’t known—he hadn’t realized just how much his absence, his silence, had impacted the man beside him.

Before he could stop himself, Kaveh lifted both hands and cupped Alhaitham’s face gently, his thumbs brushing away the wetness he now realized was there. Alhaitham had started crying too, silent tears tracing the lines of his sharp features. He had never seen him like this before. It was heartbreaking.

“Haitham...” the blonde said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry... I didn’t know.” His forehead pressed against Alhaitham’s, their breaths mingling in the shared space between them. "But I’m here. I’m alive, and we’re together."

Alhaitham’s eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into Kaveh’s touch, letting himself rest in the warmth of the other’s hands. For once, he wasn’t the composed scribe with all the answers. He was just a man who had almost lost someone he cared about more than he could admit.

They sat there for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other’s presence, and Kaveh was the first to speak, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I’m... tired," he murmured through the communication device, his body finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had been threatening to pull him under. "I just want to sleep."

Alhaitham, who had mostly regained his composure, nodded in agreement. His expression had returned to its usual calm, but there was a gentleness in his gaze that Kaveh hadn’t seen before. “We should go to the Sanctuary first,” Alhaitham said, though his tone was less insistent than usual. “We need to speak with Kusanali about the memory. Now that we have it in her device, she can encapsulate the knowledge and retain it”

Kaveh nodded, his eyes already half-closed with weariness. "Okay... but tomorrow." His voice was barely audible now, the strain of the day weighing heavily on his shoulders. “I just... need to sleep first. I promise we’ll go tomorrow, but let me rest tonight.”

Alhaitham hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on Kaveh’s exhausted figure.After a while, he sighed, relenting. "Alright. Tomorrow." His voice was soft, almost indulgent. He watched as Kaveh’s eyes fluttered shut, and without another word, he scooped him up in his arms.

The architect mumbled something incoherent, still half-conscious, but the warmth of Alhaitham’s hold brought him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in days. "Stay with me," he whispered through the headphones, his voice so soft it was almost a plea.

The scribe’s gaze softened as he carried Kaveh to his room, laying him down gently on the bed. “Of course,” he murmured in response, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He climbed into the bed beside him, wrapping his arms around Kaveh’s sleeping form.

It was a little too early for him to sleep, but he ignored it.

The room fell into silence, the only sound being the soft, steady breaths of the two men lying together.

Alhaitham’s hand rested protectively on Kaveh’s side as he could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing,. There was something grounding in the warmth beneath his palm, the solid presence of him—so fragile yet so resilient.

Satisfied that Kaveh was finally asleep, Alhaitham allowed himself to stare at him a little longer. He watched the way Kaveh’s brow softened in slumber, the tension that usually etched itself into his features now gone. Without really thinking, the scribe leaned in closer. His lips brushing softly against Kaveh’s forehead in a fleeting, almost unconscious gesture. It was delicate, cautious, as if even in sleep he feared disturbing the peace that had finally settled between them. The kiss was barely a whisper of touch, yet it lingered in the air as something more.

Alhaitham pulled back slowly, blinking as if surprised by his own actions. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had done it—this subtle display of affection was not something he was accustomed to. For a moment, he stared down at Kaveh, still as stone, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as he slept. There was a strange comfort in seeing him like this, vulnerable yet safe.

And then, the uncertainty crept in.

Was this… love? Or was it something else, something more selfish.

The fear of losing him had been overwhelming, a gnawing anxiety that had taken root in the darkest parts of his mind. Alhaitham wasn’t used to caring so deeply, not like this. His rational mind sought answers, dissecting the feeling like he would any other complex equation. Was his need to protect Kaveh driven by affection? Or was it simply the desire to keep the one constant in his life intact?
He frowned slightly, the question weighing on him like an unsolved riddle. Did he care about Kaveh because of what they shared? Or because of what Kaveh made him feel—this gnawing fear, this unfamiliar vulnerability?

His thoughts twisted, searching for clarity, but none came. For now, though, it didn’t matter. Whether it was love, fear, or something else entirely, the fact remained that lying here, beside Kaveh, felt right. The doubts, the questions—they could wait.

As sleep finally began to take hold, Alhaitham closed his eyes, his heart steadying in the comfort of knowing that for now, at least, the blonde was right by his side.
And that, as he held his heart close, was enough.

Chapter Text

With the arrival of morning, Alhaitham was the first to wake up. His eyes fluttered open slowly, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the window casting a golden hue across the room.

It was unusual for him to wake with such heaviness; the weight of an unusually peaceful sleep pressed him down, keeping him grounded. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he had slept soundly.

Once awake, His gaze drifted to Kaveh, whose form was still tucked beside him, breathing steadily. Alhaitham remained still for a moment longer, his eyes tracing the soft rise and fall of Kaveh’s chest.

The architect’s golden hair spilled across the pillow in gentle waves, framing his face in a way that highlighted his delicate features—the faint curve of his lips, the peaceful crease of his brow. In the quiet of the morning, Kaveh looked fragile yet serene, as if the weight of his pain had lifted just for this fleeting moment.

The scribe stared at him longer, and allowed himself to linger in that thought, the warmth of Kaveh's body close to his making his chest tighten. The way Kaveh seemed to relax in his presence—it made something stir in him, something unfamiliar yet undeniably tender. His fingers, still resting on the bed, twitched, itching to brush against Kaveh’s cheek, to confirm that this was real and not some fragile illusion crafted by his mind.

With a soft exhale, Alhaitham carefully shifted out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Kaveh’s sleep. His movements were slow and deliberate, each step a quiet effort to preserve this tranquil scene. Once on his feet, he glanced at Kaveh one last time before quietly slipping out of the room.

In the kitchen, Alhaitham moved with purpose, though his mind remained occupied by the sight of Kaveh sleeping. He began preparing a simple breakfast—his version of pita pockets, a dish he had perfected for mornings like this.

As he worked, his eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, and a small frown creased his brow. It was already late—much later than he usually allowed himself to sleep in. Work would no doubt be waiting, the responsibilities piling up in his absence. But as he closed his eyes and exhaled, he found he couldn’t bring himself to care. Lesser Lord Kusanali would understand, he reasoned. Today, this was more important.

When he finished, Alhaitham plated two portions of the pita pockets into bowls and carried them back to the room. The quiet air of the bedroom greeted him as he entered, Kaveh still sound asleep. He placed the bowls on the table before sitting back on the bed, watching Kaveh’s gentle slumber for a moment longer. A rare softness tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Kaveh,” he called softly, his voice a tender thread of sound in the stillness. He leaned closer, his fingers brushing through Kaveh’s tousled hair as he gently gathered the golden strands away from his face. “Wake up.”

The blonde stirred, a low groan escaping him as his face twisted in discomfort. His eyes fluttered open, and for a brief second, pain etched itself into his features. He winced, his body instinctively curling tighter, as though the memory of the previous night had returned to haunt him in his sleep.

Alhaitham’s expression tightened. “Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern.

Kaveh nodded, his breath shallow as he pointed wordlessly to the nightstand where Alhaitham had left the headphones. Understanding instantly, Alhaitham reached over and placed them gently onto Kaveh’s head. Once they were settled, Kaveh exhaled, the tension in his body loosening ever so slightly.

“These things are amazing,” Kaveh murmured through the mental link, his voice clearer now, calmer. His lips curled into a faint, appreciative smile as the pain ebbed.

Alhaitham couldn’t help but let a small smile cross his own lips. “I’d have to agree.”

Kaveh shifted slightly, his eyes flickering over to the scribe, who was watching him with that ever-familiar analytical gaze. Yet, there was something softer beneath it now. “How do you feel?” Alhaitham asked, his voice as measured as ever, but the underlying warmth couldn’t be ignored. “Can you move your legs yet?”

Hearing him, the blonde tried shifting his weight just enough to test his movement, but his body didn’t respond. With a defeated sigh, he shook his head. “Nope. Still as useless as last night.”

Alhaitham frowned, though it was more out of concern than annoyance. “I’ll help you with whatever you need,” he offered, and though the words were practical, there was a quiet sincerity that made Kaveh’s chest tighten.

“Thank you,” the blonde said, his voice soft through the link. “You’re not too bad for a care taker, you know?”

Alhaitham scoffed lightly, but the faint amusement in his eyes gave him away. “You’d do well to remember that.”

As they settled into breakfast, the quiet between them felt comfortable, familiar in a way that was new yet welcome. Alhaitham’s presence was a steady force, an anchor that Kaveh found himself relying on more than he’d like to admit. After finishing their meal, Alhaitham stood, offering Kaveh his arm. Kaveh, still unable to move properly, accepted the help without protest, leaning into him as they prepared to leave.

Alhaitham supported Kaveh with an ease that spoke volumes about how used to this role he had become. And Kaveh, for once, didn’t mind relying on him. Not today.

They dressed slowly, Alhaitham’s steady hands helping Kaveh with the little things—tying a sash, adjusting his sleeves. The architect’s usual pride took a backseat, replaced by something softer, something that made his heart flutter in a way he hadn’t quite expected.

Once they were finally ready, Alhaitham took Kaveh into his arms and carefully helped him out of the bedroom, carrying him gently as they made their way to the living room.The architect, though quiet at first, let out a small huff as he looked around the room. “It’s going to be a long way to the Akademiya,” he muttered through the device, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you sure you want to carry me all the way there?”

Alhaitham glanced down at him, his expression calm but firm. “I’m sure,” he said plainly. “It’s safer this way, given your condition.”

Kaveh frowned, the edges of his lips pulling downwards as he shifted uncomfortably in Alhaitham’s arms. It wasn’t the first time he had been carried like this, but the feeling of helplessness gnawed at him more than usual. Alhaitham noticed the small flicker of discomfort on his face and raised an eyebrow. “Something bothering you?”

Kaveh hesitated before responding, his voice low. “Not really… well, maybe a little,” he admitted, avoiding Alhaitham’s gaze. “I don’t exactly want everyone seeing me being carried like a princess through the streets of Sumeru. It’s… embarrassing.”

A soft chuckle escaped Alhaitham’s lips, but he quickly suppressed it, recognizing Kaveh’s genuine discomfort. “I see,” he mused. “In that case, why don’t you stay here instead? I’ll head to the Akademiya and ask Nahida to come to the house. I could contact Cyno and Tighnari too, if you want. That way, we can all be here, and you won’t have to deal with being carried around all the town.”

Kaveh thought about it for a moment, the memory of the pain in his muscles when he fell fresh in his mind. His body still ached, and the idea of traveling seemed unbearable. With a resigned sigh, he nodded. “Yeah… maybe that’s better.”

Alhaitham gave a quick nod of understanding and set Kaveh down carefully on the couch, making sure he was comfortable. “Do you want me to leave you here, or would you prefer going back to your room?”

Kaveh shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Here’s fine. Just don’t take too long, alright?”

“I’ll be quick,” Alhaitham reassured him, heading toward the door. He glanced back once, his gaze lingering on Kaveh, before disappearing outside.

As the door clicked shut, Kaveh let out a long sigh, sinking further into the couch. He had been trying to mask his discomfort while Alhaitham was around, not wanting to add more to his worry. But now, with no one else in the room, the pain crept back, more intense and relentless. His hand instinctively went to the headphones resting around his head, and he removed them, setting them aside as he shifted on the couch. He grimaced—every movement sent jolts of affliction through his body.

He should have asked Alhaitham to leave him his notebook, something to keep his mind busy. Even though his hands were stiff and numb, drawing would have been a welcome distraction.

The idea came too late, and for a few minutes, Kaveh sat in silence, trying to find a comfortable position. The pain was relentless, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to ignore it. After what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes, remembering something obvious.

‘Mehrak’ he thought, a faint spark of hope igniting within him.

Activating his Vision, the small briefcase emerged from his room, floating towards him with cheerful beeps. Kaveh smiled as he watched her, despite the pain. ‘I missed you too’ he thought, though he knew Mehrak couldn’t hear him the way Alhaitham could. He hesitated, unsure how to communicate what he wanted. Drawing some type of musical note in the air, he tried to guide Mehrak, but the briefcase responded with a series of confused beeps.

The frustration was evident in the architect’s crimson eyes, but he was too tired to argue with his mechanical companion. He laid back against the couch, his body protesting every movement. Closing his eyes, he resigned himself to the pain, though Mehrak hovered close, emitting soft, worried sounds.

After a few more moments of silence, the small briefcase seemed to finally understand what his creator meant. Slowly, a soft melody began to play, the music filling the quiet space. Kaveh smiled faintly, letting the sound wash over him. He was grateful that she was accompanying him.

.-.-

As the minutes slipped by quietly, the music soothed his restless mind. But it wasn’t long before the sound of the front door opening caught his attention. His eyes fluttered open as Alhaitham returned, almost way too quick. Did he sleep over? He didn't notice. Behind him, Cyno and Tighnari followed, their gazes instantly locking onto the pale architect.

“Hey,” Cyno greeted, stepping forward with a small, concerned frown. “How’re you holding up?”

Kaveh smiled weakly in response, though his body felt too heavy to move. He tapped the headphones next to him, signaling to Alhaitham to relay his words. Without missing a beat, the scribe placed the headphones back over Kaveh’s ears and conveyed his message. “He’s in a lot of pain, but otherwise, he’s… managing,” Alhaitham translated, his voice gentle.

Tighnari’s sharp eyes softened at his friend’s fragile figure, and he moved closer, crouching near him. “Alhaitham told us what happened, and I’m glad that you called us. We’ll wait until Nahida arrives, ok?”

The blonde heard him and nodded gratefully, appreciating the presence of his friends even if he couldn’t say it aloud. His eyes flickered to Alhaitham, who stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed. ‘Did you see Lesser lord kusanali ?’ Kaveh asked through the mental link.

“I did. She’ll be here soon.” Alhaitham answered immediately. “I spoke with Hat guy in the Sanctuary, and he said they’ll come by their own means.”

Feeling more relief, Kaveh’s lips twitched into a smile, though it faded quickly as a fresh wave of pain coursed through him. He exhaled sharply, his body tensing, and though he tried to mask it, the others noticed. Cyno’s sharp gaze locked onto him, while Tighnari frowned, his ears twitching in concern.

“You’re in more pain than you’re letting on,” Tighnari observed quietly, his tone gentle but firm.

Kaveh grimaced at the comment, and avoided his gaze. He hated feeling so helpless, hated that his friends were forced to see him like this and to wait around with nothing to do. He closed his eyes, and breathed heavily, trying to calm himself as the tension in the room thickened.

Alhaitham watched him silently, noticing that he was getting too stressed and stepping forward. “I’ll take him back to his room. He should lie down,” he suggested, staring at the blonde’s ragged breathing.

Cyno and Tighnari exchanged a glance before nodding in agreement. Kaveh, too, didn’t resist, his body too exhausted to protest. As Alhaitham gently carried him up, the others moved aside, their eyes following the pair as they headed towards Kaveh’s bedroom

He emerged a couple seconds later, from the quiet of the room, the subtle tightness in his expression betraying the composed mask he usually wore. He closed the door softly behind him, the faint click reverberating in the still living room.

“It can’t be easy seeing him like that,” Cyno broke the silence, “If it’s this hard for us, it must be far worse for you.”

The general’s voice was low but sincere, the concern evident even in his usually stoic demeanor. Alhaitham, now seated on one of the sofas, crossed his arms in an attempt to shield himself from the truth of his statement. “It’s not easy,” he finally admitted, his voice measured but softer than usual. “But Kaveh is stronger than people think. He’s endured more than most realize.

Tighnari, sitting across from them, lifted his gaze, his ears twitching slightly as his tail swished thoughtfully behind him. “Strength only goes so far,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as if trying to grasp his composure. “And he’s been hiding how bad it’s been for a while now. I don’t think he wanted us to see him like this, but still… we haven’t been able to help him as much as we should’ve.”

The forest watcher pressed a hand to his forehead, letting out a soft, frustrated sigh. “He smiled at us everytime we visited, Alhaitham. He was in pain, but he just… smiled.”

Cyno nodded, his own brow furrowing as he looked toward the scribe. “What exactly happened last night?” His voice held a sharp edge of curiosity. “On our way you said that you got the memory Nahida asked us to search, but you were vague. Now that we’re here, I think you owe us the full story.”

Alhaitham, aware of the weight of their concern, exhaled slowly. The strain in his posture betrayed him as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Last night, I came home earlier, and I found him lying on the floor, unable to stand on his own.” His voice tightened, the words carrying the gravity of the moment. “It was clear that the deterioration was worse than we’d originally thought.”

He closed his eyes briefly, drawing a steadying breath before continuing. “Nahida has been searching through every memory of the accident archived on the Irminsul, trying to find a lead, but… nothing. No trace of what we need.” He paused, his gaze flickering briefly before he pressed on. “Kaveh seems to be the only one with a memory close enough to the capsule, and it was precisely the memory that he didn't wanted to share with us.”

Tighnari and Cyno listened with growing unease, the silence between them thickening as Alhaitham spoke. “Once she realized we couldn’t make any progress without his cooperation, she crafted a communication device infused with her elemental energy,” he explained, his voice deliberate, each word chosen with precision. “The goal was to extract the missing fragments of Kaveh’s memory from that day and store them within the device, but she was adamant—it couldn’t be done without his consent. For weeks, I tried to get him to recount the events on his own. Yesterday, seeing him in that state, I reached my limit and showed him the device, hoping that given the seriousness of his situation he would agree to put them on.”

Tighnari’s sharp eyes widened slightly. “And? Did it work?”

Alhaitham shook his head. “Not at first. He refused.”

Cyno, looking puzzled, straightened in his seat. “Why?”

There was a brief pause before the scribe spoke again, this time slower, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the room. “He didn’t want to let me know. Kaveh was scared of what those memories would reveal—what it would mean for him, and for us. He didn’t want me to bear that knowledge.”

Tighnari frowned, crossing his arms, his ears twitching with irritation. “At the cost of his life?”

“He thought his life would be over regardless, and he didn’t want to burden us any more than he already has.”

“That’s how Kaveh is. Always trying to carry the weight alone.” the general added in a soft voice, and the room fell silent, a shared understanding settling between them. Trying to keep the conversation going, he broke the silence again. “So… what did you do when he refused?”

“I told him that there was an alternative.” the scribe replied.

Tighnari’s brow furrowed, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “An alternative?”

He nodded. “I said that if he wouldn’t retrieve the memories, I’d take his place. I’d become the new vessel instead of him, and retrieve the nocive effects of the fake knowledge.”
Cyno’s expression shifted to one of disbelief. “Wait… that doesn’t sound right. Nahida never mentioned a backup plan like that.”

Alhaitham’s lips curled into a faint, almost bitter smile. “Because there wasn’t one. I lied.”

Cyno’s eyes widened slightly, his tone incredulous. “You… lied to him?”

“To give him a way out, yes.” Alhaitham replied, his voice steady despite the heavy admission. “I knew he wouldn’t let me take his place. Kaveh is stubborn, but he’s also self-sacrificing. He’d rather endure whatever’s happening than see someone else suffer because of him.”

Tighnari, still processing the whole story, let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “So you manipulated him into agreeing?”

“I gave him a choice,” Alhaitham countered, his voice cool but not without a hint of regret. “But I knew what he’d choose.”

Cyno crossed his arms, shaking his head slightly. “That’s risky, Alhaitham.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” the scribe replied softly, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

Tighnari sighed, rubbing his temples. “Well, the important thing is that it worked, and we’re here now. Seeing him like this…” His voice trailed off, the unspoken weight of his words hanging in the air.

“We’ll figure it out,” Cyno added, though his tone was more uncertain than usual. “When Nahida gets here, she’ll help him, and he'll be back at the tavern before you know it.”

Alhaitham leaned back slightly, his gaze distant. “I hope so.”

They sat in the quiet for a few more minutes, until a soft knock came at the door, startling them and breaking the uneasy quiet. The three exchanged glances before Alhaitham rose to his feet, moving to answer.

As the door swung open, Nahida’s small form came into view, nestled securely in Wanderer’s arms. The Archon greeted Alhaitham with a warm, gentle smile, her hand raised in a soft wave. The boy then dropped her gently to the ground and stood behind her, his expression as neutral as ever, though the care with which he held her was unmistakable.

“Good morning, Alhaitham,” she said, her voice kind yet filled with the quiet strength she was known for.

Alhaitham greeted Nahida briefly, his voice measured and calm despite the tension that hung in the air. His sharp eyes flicked toward Wanderer, who returned the glance but said nothing. For a moment, the silence between them felt laden with things unspoken—perhaps the faintest hint of mutual understanding neither would acknowledge aloud. The boy’s gaze softened, but only slightly, before they both broke away and focused on Nahida’s small figure, now stepping inside.

The living room felt colder than usual, the weight of their combined concerns palpable in the air. Once everyone had gathered, Nahida's expression shifted as she cast a sad glance towards the closed door to Kaveh's room. "His mental state it's weakening rapidly." she said in a soft voice, her quiet sorrow lingering with a sadness she couldn’t fully hide.

The scribe's jaw tightened with her comment, but he remained composed. He met the small archon’s gaze, and with a curt nod, confirmed her earlier question. "I managed to store the fragments in the device you gave me."

Looking at him, Nahida's face relaxed, just slightly. She exhaled, as though the news had eased a part of her burden. But that relief was fleeting as she raised a hand delicately, addressing the group. “Before we bring him here, I must warn you. The procedure will be very difficult for Kaveh. His mind and body have already endured a lot, and what I am about to do will strain his condition further. I need your cooperation to ensure nothing pushes him over the edge—any excess stress might force me to halt the process entirely."

Cyno, ever stoic, exchanged a glance with Tighnari, who nodded subtly. "We'll do whatever is needed," he said firmly. Tighnari, standing beside him, remained silent, but his ears flicked back in worry.
Nahida nodded, her emerald eyes holding a quiet but steely determination. "Very well." She then turned towards Alhaitham. “Please bring him here.”

Without a word, Alhaitham left the room, his footsteps echoing softly as he made his way to Kaveh’s door. The house seemed too quiet, save for the shallow sound of the blonde’s labored breathing that could be heard through the wood. Alhaitham hesitated for a brief second before turning the knob.

Inside, Kaveh lay on his side, his body curled slightly and the usual vibrancy of his features dulled by pain. His breath hitched, strained and uneven, and his eyes were squeezed shut as if he could block out the pain through sheer will. Alhaitham approached him slowly, his heart tugging at the sight in ways he hadn’t expected. He knelt beside the bed, his hand resting lightly on Kaveh’s arm.

“Kaveh…” Alhaitham’s voice was soft, uncharacteristically gentle, as he tried to wake him. Kaveh stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open, revealing a painful red beneath. His gaze met Alhaitham’s, and he winced, the pain still raw in his expression.

Alhaitham reached for the headphones, placing them gently over Kaveh's ears. Through the mental link, his voice came through, calm and composed as he leaned closer. “Kusanali is here.”

The architect blinked slowly, still disoriented, and after a moment, his brow furrowed as a thought seemed to cross his mind. “Do I… look terrible?” he asked, his voice shaky but carrying a hint of humor, laced with concern for his appearance even in his awful state.

Alhaitham’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles, one that softened the usual hard lines of his face. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Kaveh’s forehead, his touch lingering longer than necessary. “You could never look terrible. Don’t worry about that. Once this is over, you’ll feel a lot better.”

Kaveh's gaze wavered, doubt clouding his eyes for a moment, but the unexpected kindness in Alhaitham’s words made his chest tighten with something warmer than the pain. His lips twitched into a faint smile, the red in his cheeks deepening just slightly as he held his arms out towards the scribe. "Okay then."

With surprising ease, Alhaitham lifted Kaveh into his arms, mindful of his fragile state. The blonde wrinkled his face and let his head rest against Alhaitham’s shoulder as they made their way back to the others, his breath shallow but steadier now, trusting in the solidity of the man carrying him.

When they entered the room, Kaveh glanced around, his smile faltering as embarrassment crept in. Being carried in front of the Archon herself felt more than a little mortifying. His gaze darted to the side, unable to meet Nahida’s, but she greeted him with a warm, understanding smile that soothed some of his discomfort.

“How are you feeling, Kaveh?” Nahida’s voice was light, almost musical, her expression soft with genuine concern.

Kaveh paused, unsure how to respond, his silence stretching for several heartbeats. His mind raced—how could he answer her when his voice still failed him? But Nahida, perceptive as ever, raised a finger to her ear and smiled again, kindly. “Don’t worry. The device you're wearing is connected to my elemental power as well. I can hear you through it, just as Alhaitham can.”

Relief washed over him, and with a nod, Kaveh communicated through the mental link. “I’m… I’m alright.” His voice sounded steadier now.

The little archon’s eyes flickered with curiosity, and after a couple seconds staring at the blonde, she turned towards the group, gathering her thoughts before she began her explanation. “Before I start, I think it would be important to clarify a few things about what I'm going to do. The knowledge capsule used on Kaveh… it's not authentic. As Alhaitham and Cyno uncovered in their research, it’s a replica created by scholars of the Akademiya.” Her tone was tinged with awe and a hint of disbelief. "Even so, it is impressive how closely it mimics the real thing."

Alhaitham, standing beside her, closed his eyes briefly, aware of the capsule’s origin. He remained silent, fists clenched, and Kusanali’s gentle voice soothed him enough. "Despite its harmful effects, there are key differences from true forbidden knowledge. When I examined Kaveh’s mind the first time, I saw that the blockage in his brain wasn't static—it was spreading, altering his neural activity. That’s why he’s been experiencing such severe symptoms, and the sensation of pain manifested as if they were actual physical damage. The power of the mind is impressive without a doubt, it is capable of damaging the body without even needing external influence, it is enough for the mind to believe it so that the rest of the body acts accordingly. The loss of his voice, on the other hand, seems to be inherent to the capsule. If forbidden knowledge is usually spread through verbal transmission, this capsule was designed to trap its host without allowing its contamination to reach others."

She paused, watching the group’s reactions. ”You could say it’s like poisoning someone, but through the mind.”

Alhaitham's eyes were still closed, a shadow of regret darkening his features, though he said nothing.

“This is actually good news," Nahida continued, her expression softening. "Because it means It can be removed without risking its spreading. If we extract the core memory that made contact with the capsule, the knowledge will lose its hold on him.”

Tighnari, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke up. “You mean the memory of the accident?”

Nahida nodded. "Yes. If I enter Kaveh's mind and remove that memory, the forbidden knowledge will attach itself to it, releasing its grip on the brain. Once separated, I can contain it in another capsule and keep it safe.”

Cyno frowned, his voice cutting through the air. "Why not destroy it?”

Nahida’s gaze shifted briefly towards Wanderer, her voice soft but firm. “Forbidden knowledge, even as a copy, cannot be entirely eradicated. Just as with Irminsul, some things cannot truly be erased.” Her words carried a quiet weight, a subtle reference to his companion, who remained silent as a flicker of recognition passed through his eyes.

After a brief pause, Nahida refocused on the task at hand. “Saying that, I think we can proceed, but I must emphasize—Kaveh, I won't lie to you. The process will be extremely painful for you. Since the knowledge has embedded itself deeply within his subconscious, it will fight back against removal, and that will cause significant mental and physical distress.”

Kaveh met her eyes, his jaw clenched as he absorbed her words. Nahida’s voice softened as she continued, "But once it's done, the memory of that night will be gone, and your mind will be freed from the capsule’s influence. You won’t remember any of the events tied to it, and your brain will fill in the gaps as if nothing happened.”

After a moment of tense silence, the blonde asked hesitantly through the mental link, “Will I ever get those memories back?”

Alhaitham, surprised by the question, turned slightly to glance at him, but Nahida answered first. "While the memories won’t reintegrate with your mind, I can encapsulate them in the for of a dream for you to see later. It’ll be like watching a story from the outside!"

Kaveh’s gaze softened as he nodded, the resolve settling into his bones. He wasn’t sure if he was truly ready for more pain, but their archon was trying really hard to save him, and he knew that it was the only way forward.

As his gaze drifted towards Alhaitham, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Of course, Alhaitham. That scribe would never forgive him if he decided to give up now. He had been the pillar holding him up through everything until now, and if there was still any reason left for him to keep fighting, it would be for him. A slight tremor coursed through the architect's hands, but he quickly forced himself to remain calm. Surrender wasn’t an option—not while Alhaitham was there, so close, watching him with those unshakable eyes.

With a soft exhale, Kaveh turned his attention to the small Archon. “I’m ready,” he whispered through the mental link, though his voice trembled slightly. Nahida nodded in return, her expression gentle but filled with a knowing seriousness. “Alright,” she said, her voice quiet yet resolute. “We’ll all be here to help.”

As she spoke, she gestured to Cyno and Tighnari. “Please, sit beside him,” she instructed. “He may need your support to stay grounded.”

The two of them complied without hesitation, each positioning themselves on either side of Kaveh, their hands resting firmly on his shoulders. Alhaitham, however, knelt directly in front of Kaveh, his hands intertwining with the architect’s trembling fingers. A surge of warmth passed between them, subtle yet undeniably present. The two locked eyes for a moment, and Kaveh’s nervous smile faltered just slightly as sweat began to bead on his forehead. His heart raced, but Alhaitham squeezed his hands, offering a silent comfort.

“You’ll be alright,” Alhaitham murmured through the earpiece, his voice soft yet firm. It was more than reassurance—it was a promise.

Kaveh nodded quickly, his throat tight with both fear and something softer, something far more vulnerable. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if bracing himself for whatever was to come. Whatever this moment held, he would face it. He had to.

And then, with a final breath, he whispered into the silence, “Let’s do this.”

Nahida took that as her cue, floating gracefully towards him and surrounding him until she was behind the sofa, her small hands resting on the sides of Kaveh’s head. She began the process with soft, whispered words, her voice a calming lull that mixed the energy around them. For a moment, it seemed as though Kaveh’s body accepted the magic. Cyno and Tighnari, seated on either side of him, held onto his shoulders, their faces set in grim determination. Cyno, whose usual stoic demeanor remained intact, seemed to be silently counting down the seconds, prepared for whatever might come. Tighnari’s grip, though firm, was gentler, as though afraid that one wrong move might cause Kaveh more pain.

The momentary silence before the storm was unnerving, the only sound being Kaveh’s shallow breathing and the faint hum of dendro energy filling the room. Nahida's aura glowed gently around them, but despite its serene color, it carried a weight that made everyone tense. Alhaitham’s hands, usually so steady, felt cold against Kaveh’s warm skin. He couldn’t help but steal glances at the architect’s face, searching for any sign of discomfort, his mind racing with worry. His pulse quickened every time Kaveh’s brows furrowed slightly, even though his expression hadn’t yet fully contorted in pain.

Wanderer stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching the scene with unreadable eyes. His gaze flitted between Nahida, Alhaitham, and Kaveh, waiting for the inevitable. His sudden voice cut through the tense quiet. “Hold him tighter,” he said, sharp and precise, his voice startling the trio who had been silently bracing for Kaveh’s reaction. In that split second, everything changed.

Kaveh's body convulsed violently, his back arching off the sofa as an agonized, muted scream escaped his throat. The sound was barely audible, but it tore through the room like a shockwave. Alhaitham’s heart dropped, his fingers clenching harder around Kaveh’s hands. He looked into Kaveh’s face, but the red eyes he loved so much were squeezed shut in pain, the architect's breath coming in ragged, frantic bursts.

“Kaveh-” Alhaitham’s voice was a desperate whisper, but there was no response. Kaveh’s head thrashed from side to side, his body moving as if it were trying to fight off an invisible assailant. The sweat on his forehead gleamed under the low light, and every muscle in his body tensed as if ready to snap. Tighnari and Cyno struggled to keep him still, their fingers digging into his shoulders, but Kaveh’s strength, amplified by the pain, was nearly impossible to control.

“He’s going to hurt himself!” Cyno hissed, his own arms straining against Kaveh’s movements. Alhaitham’s grip slipped for a brief moment, but his eyes never left Kaveh’s tortured expression.

Without warning, Wanderer stepped forward, his face set in grim determination. He raised a hand, releasing a swirl of anemo energy. The wind formed invisible restraints around Kaveh’s wrists and ankles, binding him to the sofa. The gusts swirled gently, but with enough force to prevent Kaveh from thrashing further. “Talk to him, scribe!” Wanderer barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Alhaitham hesitated for a moment, watching as Kaveh’s eyes flew open, wide and wild with terror. The red of his irises had deepened to a fiery crimson, glinting with something almost otherworldly. His breath came in shallow gasps, his body still fighting against the bindings that now held him in place. Alhaitham moved closer, his hands trembling as he cupped Kaveh’s face, forcing him to look into his eyes.

“Kaveh, listen to me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against Kaveh’s in a desperate attempt to ground him. “You’re going to be alright. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

But Kaveh’s gaze remained distant, as if he couldn’t even see Alhaitham, his mind lost in whatever nightmarish vision the knowledge capsule was forcing him to relive. His lips trembled, and tears, hot and bitter, began to pool in the corners of his eyes. The weight of it crushed Alhaitham, watching as Kaveh, the man who had held his heart so dearly, was now so helpless.

“Hold him still! We’re almost there!” Nahida’s voice came through strained, the small archon struggling to keep her hands firmly on Kaveh’s head as he continued to thrash. Her brow furrowed in concentration, the dendro aura around her intensifying. Alhaitham pressed harder against Kaveh, whispering soft reassurances, even though it felt like Kaveh wasn’t hearing a single word.

Kaveh’s chest heaved, and his entire body jerked as if something inside him was ripping apart. His tears fell freely now, mixing with the sweat on his flushed cheeks. He was trapped in his mind, and the more Kaveh struggled, the more desperate Alhaitham felt.

“It’s making him relive it… the accident in the desert ” Nahida muttered, her voice tinged with urgency. “The knowledge capsule is fighting back, forcing him to re-experience the worst of it.”

Kaveh’s head twisted to the side, his eyes now wild and unfocused, searching for something, someone, anything to hold onto. Alhaitham’s heart ached as he pulled Kaveh’s face back toward him, locking their gazes. “Look at me, Kaveh. I’m here. Focus on me.”

But the blonde’s mind was somewhere far away, his body still trembling violently against the restraints. The sight of his contorted expression, his lips pulled back in silent agony, was more than the scribe could bear.

“Kusanali—” Alhaitham’s voice cracked. He didn’t care about the others hearing his desperation, not anymore. He could only focus on Kaveh and the torment that raged in his eyes. “Please, finish this.”

“I’m almost done,” Nahida assured, though her small voice held a tremor. “But he has to hold on just a little longer…”

Wanderer’s voice broke through again, colder and more distant. “He won´t if you don’t keep him steady.”

With renewed resolve, Alhaitham took hold of Kaveh’s head, his fingers threading into the golden strands damp with sweat. Their foreheads pressed together once more, and Alhaitham whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, “Stay with me, Kaveh. You’re stronger than this.”

Kaveh's body jerked violently once more, and then, as if his entire being was unraveling, he began to convulse. His chest heaved, and a guttural, choking cough tore from his throat. Alhaitham’s eyes widened in horror as Kaveh coughed again, harder this time, until a thin stream of blood trickled from his mouth, staining his chin and dripping onto his clothes, the bright red an alarming contrast against the pale fabric.

The room seemed to still, a collective breath held in silent terror.

Cyno’s eyes flew open, shock breaking through his usual stoicism, while Tighnari gasped, his grip tightening instinctively on Kaveh’s shoulder as though the act of holding on could somehow keep him from slipping away. Alhaitham, trembling now, fought to maintain control. His hands cupped Kaveh’s face, his fingers trembling as he wiped away the blood with his thumb, trying desperately to focus on the sound of his own voice, still whispering softly, though his words now seemed hollow against the backdrop of Kaveh’s suffering.

“Please, please” Alhaitham murmured, his voice barely audible, strained with desperation. He could see the torment etched across Kaveh’s face, his body growing weaker by the second as he struggled. Every time the blonde jerked or sobbed, Alhaitham was painfully reminded of the harrowing memory he had glimpsed last night—The vision of him being tortured in that desolated room, his hands and feet bound as he cried out, resurfaced in Alhaitham’s mind. His stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Alhaitham felt powerless, knowing that nothing he said could pull Kaveh out of this. Still, he held on, refusing to let go. “You’re safe, I’m right here,” he whispered again, though he knew Kaveh could not hear him through the haze of his torment, his body trapped in a sickening mimicry of that day.

Minutes passed in agonizing slow motion. Kaveh’s resistance weakened, his struggling reduced to exhausted, erratic movements. His sobs grew quieter, though the heartbreaking sound still echoed through the room. Alhaitham glanced at Nahida, silently pleading for a sign, for anything. Suddenly, the softest change came—a shift in Kaveh’s broken mumbling. The unintelligible whispers that had escaped his throat began to take shape, words forming through the hoarse sounds.

“It’s working!” Nahida’s voice called out, her voice filled with a fragile hope. “The forbidden knowledge is detaching from his brain, and his voice is returning”

Before anyone could react, Kaveh’s body arched in pain, and a scream tore from his throat, raw and full of agony. Alhaitham’s heart shattered at the sound. Kaveh’s voice—after all this time—had come back, only to be used in this horrifying plea.

“No… no, please!” Kaveh sobbed, his voice ragged and desperate, tears streaming down his face. “Stop, please…” His words were broken by hiccuping breaths, his entire body wracked with anguish.
The room fell silent, the weight of Kaveh’s cries suffocating everyone. Cyno clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, unable to bear the sight of Kaveh’s suffering. His own internal conflict was etched deeply on his face as he fought to remain composed.

Tighnari’s lips pressed together tightly, and though he fought valiantly, his eyes brimmed with unshed tears. He was struggling too, his heart breaking for his friend. He kept one hand firmly on Kaveh’s arm, as though his silent presence could somehow provide strength.

Wanderer, who had been observing with his usual detached air, flinched when Kaveh’s voice returned, the raw sound of his sobs slicing through the silence. His brows furrowed as his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a momentary flicker of discomfort flashing in his eyes. Though his expression remained stern, his fingers twitched at his sides as if resisting the urge to intervene.

Nahida, hovering behind Kaveh, was no longer composed. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, her breath hitching as she witnessed the cruel memories replaying through Kaveh’s mind. Her connection with him was deeper than the others, the vividness of the memory burning through her. The pain she felt was not just his but hers too, as the grief of Kaveh’s suffering weighed heavily on her heart.

Everybody looked distressed, but it was Alhaitham whose devastation was most apparent. His normally calm and calculating demeanor had all but dissolved. His expression was one of raw, unchecked emotion. He wiped the tears from Kaveh’s cheeks with a tenderness that belied the turmoil inside him. “I’m here,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against the blonde's, desperate to anchor him. “I’m here, Kaveh. You’re not alone. I’m with you.”

The architect’s strength was fading fast, his movements sluggish as though his body was finally surrendering to exhaustion, but the sound of Alhaitham’s voice—constant, soothing—seemed to draw something from deep within him. His final plea came out as a broken whisper, his voice barely audible. “Haitham…” Kaveh gasped, his voice trembling, a plea for comfort, for something to hold on to. And then, with one last shudder, Kaveh’s body went limp. His head fell forward, landing gently in Alhaitham’s palms.

Alhaitham froze, his breath caught in his throat, a moment of sheer panic gripping him as the room fell deathly silent. But before the worst could take hold, Nahida spoke, her voice calming. “He only lost consciousness,” she assured them, her voice weak but relieved. “The forbidden knowledge finally freed his brain.”

With a soft, tired sigh, Nahida removed her hands from Kaveh’s temples, and a faint dark halo materialized above his head. It swirled in the air, sinister in its blackness, before condensing into a small, solid form. the little archon waved her hand, and the dark energy was sealed into a box of shimmering dendro energy.

With a deft motion, the box vanished into the air, dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. Nahida exhaled deeply, wiping her eyes. “It’s done,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, drained but resolute.
At her words, the tension in the room finally broke. Cyno and Tighnari slowly released Kaveh, both of them breathing shakily, their nerves still frayed from the ordeal. Wanderer flicked his wrist, and the anemo chains binding Kaveh disappeared in a swirl of wind. He stood back, his eyes narrowing slightly, though for once, his expression was unreadable.

Alhaitham, however, remained where he was, cradling Kaveh’s limp form in his arms. His fingers ghosted over Kaveh’s face, brushing stray strands of hair from his eyes, wiping the last of the tears away. His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to steady his breathing, but the weight of what had just transpired still clung to him like a vice. His gaze softened as he looked down at the blonde, his voice barely audible, “I’m here, Kaveh.”

The room was quiet for a long moment, as everyone tried to collect themselves after the storm. Nahida, with her small frame exuding a calming aura, stepped closer to the scribe and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don’t worry," she whispered softly, her voice soothing against the tense silence. "Kaveh will wake up soon. He might feel some discomfort from the residual effects, but he’s going to be alright."

Alhaitham barely moved, his eyes fixed on Kaveh’s unconscious form. He exhaled slowly, nodding at her words, though the concern never left his face. “Thank you” he said in a whisper, and with a careful, deliberate movement, he lifted Kaveh off the couch. His hands, usually so steady and precise, now cradled the architect as if he were made of glass, holding him closer than necessary. There was no mistaking in the silent fear woven into every gesture. The tension in Alhaitham’s jaw remained, his grip firm yet tender, as though any shift might undo the fragile peace Kaveh had momentarily found.

Tighnari, still shaken from the entire ordeal, stood at a distance, visibly trying to gather himself. His ears twitched as he glanced at Nahida, who remained a steady source of comfort in the room. “So… do we just wait now?” he asked, his voice barely concealing the tremor of nerves still running through him.

Nahida nodded softly, her gaze steady. “Yes. For now, we let him rest. When he wakes, someone will need to explain to him what happened… so the void left by the removed memory doesn’t cause him distress.” she said as her eyes flicked to the blonde again, a trace of sympathy lining her features.

Cyno, who had been standing near the sofa, arms still crossed but with a softer gaze than usual, spoke up. "Alhaitham should be the one to explain." His deep voice was certain, leaving no room for debate. “Kaveh called for him before he passed out. I think he’ll be the one he'll want to see the most.”

Alhaitham didn’t respond immediately, but his eyes briefly flickered towards Cyno, acknowledgment hidden beneath his stoic exterior. Then, without a word, he turned and began carrying the architect towards his bedroom, his steps slow and measured.

Wanderer, who had remained silent for most of the scene, took a step forward, moving behind Nahida. He crouched slightly, lowering his voice to whisper in her ear. "We should leave now," he said, his usual coolness present. "All this noise is giving me a headache." His comment, as biting as it was, carried enough volume to ensure the others could hear.

Nahida turned to him, raising her brow with a soft, knowing smile. "Alright, but are you alright?" she asked, her voice light but sincere. "All these emotions… they must’ve affected you a little."

Wanderer scoffed, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at her. "Affected me? Are you joking? Why would I care about someone else’s melodrama?" His tone was biting, but a subtle flicker of discomfort crossed his face. "You’re giving me way too much credit, Kusanali."

Nahida chuckled gently, rolling her eyes playfully at him. "Really? I see… I guess I just assumed you had some interest in all this, seeing as you volunteered to accompany me today."

The boy´s annoyance deepened as he glared at her, his nose wrinkling in frustration. "You’re the one who asked me to personally investigate this case. Don’t try to get clever with me."

Smiling at his irritation, Nahida raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, alright, you don't need to be so grumpy about it.”

As the two watched Alhaitham disappear down the hallway with Kaveh in his arms, Tighnari and Cyno following close behind, Nahida’s tone shifted again, more pensive now. "I just thought… maybe you see something of yourself in Kaveh. You know, what might have been, If the doctor never intervened in your life."

Wanderer’s scowl deepened, his brows furrowed as he turned sharply towards the door. “Nonsense,” he muttered, his voice low and tinged with bitterness. But beneath that bitterness, there was a faint sadness that clung to his words like an echo of something he wasn’t willing to confront.

Without another glance, Wanderer strode towards the exit, leaving Nahida to follow. She watched him for a moment longer before offering a soft sigh, her expression sad but understanding. As she stepped after him, she glanced back at the house, where the others remained inside. ",ay the wind take care of them," she whispered softly, a quiet blessing carried on the wind, before disappearing out the door, leaving the space in a heavy, thoughtful silence.

.-.-

The hours stretched long as Kaveh lay motionless, the effects of Nahida’s treatment working silently.
Alhaitham, Tighnari, and Cyno had all taken turns keeping him in watch, though the general had been the first to leave. As General Mahamatra, his responsibilities couldn’t wait, especially with a crucial part of the investigation still ongoing. Before he departed, he handed Alhaitham a small box—his parting gift for Kaveh. “Give him this when he wakes up. It’s a limited set of chromatic cards from Genius Invocation TCG. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Cyno’s deadpan tone betrayed just the faintest hint of sentiment, and Alhaitham had accepted the gift reluctantly, muttering something under his breath about how Kaveh didn’t need more distractions. The general, giving a last check to his sleeping friend, simply nodded and—with a brief farewell—left to administer justice.

Tighnari, on his part, refused to leave the house until Kaveh woke up. He busied himself tending to Kaveh’s injuries, changing his bloodied clothes, and ensuring that his breathing remained steady. Despite his calm, professional demeanor, the strain of the situation hadn’t escaped him. At one point, he turned to Alhaitham, who had barely moved from his spot at Kaveh’s side, and with a firm but kind tone, said, "You need to take a break. You look like trash."

Alhaitham grunted, his focus unwavering from Kaveh’s still figure. “I don’t care about that. I just want him to wake up.”

Tighnari sighed, placing a hand on Alhaitham’s shoulder. "He will, but you won’t be of any use to him in this state. Go take a bath, and sleep if you can. I’ll watch over him."

There was a moment of quiet resistance in Alhaitham’s eyes, but even he knew Tighnari was right. He hadn’t realized just how drained he was—his body screamed for rest, but his mind refused to give in until Kaveh opened his eyes first. He stood, albeit reluctantly, and allowed himself to be ushereds toward the bathroom.

The cold water of the shower hit him like a truck, but it really was what he needed. Slowly, the tension that had coiled itself so tightly within him began to loosen, as he scrubbed away the remnants of blood and grime from his arms. The water turned a soft, pale pink, bringing back memories from earlier in the day—the image of Kaveh unconscious, his face pale, and the feeling of cleaning his skin with careful precision, as if doing so could protect him from further harm. The stark contrast of blood against Kaveh's golden hair had been almost unbearable.

It was the same feeling he had experienced in the desert, he thought with some bitterness.

Alhaitham stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from his hair as he grabbed a towel. He dressed quickly, pulling on something more comfortable, his mind wandering back to Kaveh with every passing second. He was just about to fasten his belt when he heard a faint conversation from down the hallway. His ears perked up, the words too muffled to make out clearly, but the unmistakable tone of Kaveh’s voice broke through the fog of exhaustion.

For a split second, Alhaitham stood frozen, eyes wide. Then, in one fluid movement, he yanked on the rest of his clothes and dashed out of the room, feet bare, heart racing as if it hadn’t beaten in hours. He entered the room, the door swinging open softly, and the sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

Kaveh was sitting up in bed, his golden hair tidily arranged, a plate of food balanced on his lap. His crimson eyes, back to their vibrant hue, widened in surprise when they met Alhaitham’s. He paused mid-bite, staring at him as if the scribe were the last person he’d expected to see.

“Ah, and there it is,” Tighnari muttered, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “You two really can’t be more obvious.”

Kaveh blinked, his indignation coming in full force as he turned to Tighnari. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alhaitham stayed still, hearing him talk with such normalcy that he couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face. It felt unnatural, foreign even, but there it was—an undeniable rush of relief filling his chest. He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed Kaveh’s voice until that very moment.

“Perhaps Tighnari is referring to the fact that I’ve been waiting for hours for you to wake up, only for you to do so the moment I leave to take a shower. How terribly inconsiderate of you, senior,” Alhaitham replied in his usual dry tone, though the lightness in his voice was unmistakable.

Kaveh shot him a look of mock irritation, his lips twitching as he tried to hold back a smile. “As if I can choose when to wake up. Don’t be so full of yourself.” But after a brief pause, Kaveh’s expression shifted. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he tilted his head slightly. "Wait… are you smiling? It’s unsettling—stop it. What’s gotten into you, Alhaitham?”

Alhaitham’s smile widened, though it was still small by most standards. Tighnari chuckled softly from where he stood, arms crossed. "That’s one of the parts you’re missing. What's the last thing you remember?"

Kaveh frowned, bringing a hand to his chin as he tried to think. “Now that you mention it… I’m not sure what the last thing I remember is.” His brow furrowed deeper as he racked his brain. “Weren’t we on a job in the desert? How did we get back to Sumeru so quickly? Did I miss something?”

Tighnari and Alhaitham exchanged a glance, a quiet understanding passing between them. The confusion in Kaveh’s eyes was painfully clear.

"Well," Tighnari began, his voice gentle but tinged with the weight of what was to come, "Prepare yourself for an interesting story."

Chapter Text

The weekend morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft yet noticeable glow across the scribe’s room.

Alhaitham stirred, half-awake, as the muffled sound of knocking echoed from the door. His body, heavy with the remnants of sleep, resisted the urge to move.

"Haitham, come out and eat something."

Kaveh’s voice, familiar yet edged with subtle annoyance, carried through the quiet atmosphere. The scribe grunted at the early request, choosing to ignore it as he shifted under the blankets, rolling over to the other side, determined to steal a few more minutes of rest. The knocks persisted, though, each one growing more insistent until they turned into a rhythmic demand that grated against his fragile peace.

"Are you ignoring me!?"

The door creaked open with an unmistakable sound of frustration, and Kaveh entered without hesitation. Alhaitham kept his eyes shut, pulling the blanket over his head as if that could somehow erase the intrusion. The blonde, standing in front of his bed for a couple seconds, sighed in exasperation without pushing further.

"Fine, suit yourself." he said as his footsteps retreated, and the scent of food wafted into the room, stronger with each passing second. It was impossible to ignore.

After a few moments of trying to fall back asleep, Alhaitham gave in. The aroma of whatever Kaveh was cooking had done its job, pulling him out of bed despite his best efforts. He stretched, his limbs stiff from a night of restless dreams, and ran a hand through his hair. Sleep was a fleeting thing these days.

Heading to the bathroom, he washed his face, the cold water refreshing against his skin. He lingered there for a second, staring into the mirror. His reflection was as unreadable as ever, but there was something in his eyes—a heaviness that had settled over him in the past few days.

It wasn’t so easy to shake off the weight of everything that had happened.

Finally, he left the bathroom and made his way toward the kitchen, the smell of cooking stronger now, leading him like a beacon. As he entered the room, he found Kaveh standing at the stove, his back to him, focused on a sizzling pan. The soft clinking of utensils against cookware filled the air, adding a domestic harmony to the scene.

Alhaitham’s voice, still thick with sleep, broke the silence. "What are you making?"

Kaveh turned briefly, his crimson eyes catching Alhaitham’s for a split second before returning to his task. His tone was laced with mock annoyance. "Oh, so someone finally decided to show up." He clicked his tongue. "A “thank you” wouldn’t be too much to ask before you eat the food I’ve been slaving over."

Alhaitham, unfazed by the architect’s sulking, crossed his arms. "Technically, you should be thanking me. I paid for all the ingredients you’re using, and might I remind you, you still owe two months of rent."

Kaveh bristled at that, his temper flashing in the way it always did when Alhaitham pushed his buttons. He opened his mouth to retort, but stopped, an unexpected grin tugging at his lips. "You really don’t know how to let a guy have a moment, do you?"

Caught slightly off guard, Alhaitham raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, something like amusement flickering in his chest. Kaveh always had that unpredictable charm, disarming him in the most unlikely moments.

The tension between them dissolved as Kaveh let out a laugh, low and genuine, shaking his head at their ridiculous banter. He turned off the stove and motioned to the table. "Alright, go set the table. Breakfast is ready."

Without complaint, Alhaitham did as he was told, moving with the efficiency he always displayed. They sat down together at the modest table, plates filled with a dish native to Sumeru—Zaytun Peach Pita Pockets, stuffed with tender meat and fresh vegetables, seasoned perfectly. Kaveh’s cooking was always good, a skill honed through countless shared meals in this odd coexistence they had developed.

They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the quiet clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of the world waking up outside. For a moment, it felt...normal. As if the suffering of the past days hadn’t existed, as if everything had always been this easy between them.

It was Kaveh who eventually broke the silence, his tone casual but carrying a hint of curiosity. "Do you have any plans for today? We both have the day off so…i was thinking that maybe we could go together to see Lesser Lord Kusanali. It's been several days now, right?"

The scribe took his time, finishing a bite before answering, his gaze flickering briefly to Kaveh’s face. "Yes, we should go see her" His words came slowly, almost hesitantly. "She’ll want to check on you, make sure everything’s... stable."

Kaveh leaned back in his chair, wiping his hands on a napkin. "Yeah… That’s what I thought. I suppose it's for the best. I owe her a lot, after all." There was a beat of quiet between them before he continued, his voice softer. "And I guess I want to see her too, and ask her some questions."

Alhaitham nodded, though something in his chest tightened slightly at the thought. "If that’s what you want."

The mood between them shifted slightly, but as they were back to their usual routine, they didn't share anything else.

The days following Nahida's intervention were characterized by a fragile calm. Kaveh, after being freed from the false forbidden knowledge, had woken up very energetic, his voice louder, and carrying the same warmth as before. Everyone was relieved, and he seemed happy, but there was still a notable absence of memory in his eyes, a void where the events of the past weeks should have been. It was as if those moments had never existed to him, and at Nahida’s recommendation, both Alhaitham and Tighnari had given him a concise, almost sanitized summary of what had happened.

At first, Kaveh had taken their recounting as some kind of elaborate joke. He laughed it off, shaking his head at their supposed attempt to prank him. But when Alhaitham showed him the dendro-infused earpieces—the very tool that had saved his life—something shifted in Kaveh’s demeanor. He started to take it seriously, though it was clear neither Alhaitham nor Tighnari had divulged everything. They had spared him the harsher truths, skimming over the more painful details. Neither of them wanted Kaveh to bear the full weight of what had transpired.

The scribe, in particular, had carefully lightened the story, making it easier for the blonde to digest.

Once they finished explaining, Kaveh’s initial disbelief morphed into guilt. He had apologized profusely for the trouble he had caused, the disruptions his condition had brought into their lives. Both Tighnari and Alhaitham had quickly dismissed his apologies, assuring him that the best thing he could do now was focus on his own recovery. The forest watcher left shortly after, leaving behind some medicines in case the blonde’s health took a turn.

Kaveh, being his usual polite self, tried to get up to walk Tighnari to the door, but as soon as he stood, his legs buckled beneath him. Alhaitham moved instinctively, catching him before he hit the ground. The blonde let out a nervous laugh, his voice unsteady. "My legs feel weird."

Alhaitham felt the tremor in Kaveh’s body and quietly reassured him. "Nahida said there might be some residual effects. Don’t push yourself. You just need a bit more rest."

Kaveh nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and returned to bed. From that point on, his recovery had progressed steadily. The next day, he was already able to walk on his own, albeit with some difficulty. Cyno had dropped by the next morning, delighted to see his friend awake. He even forced him into a few rounds of TCG, much to Kaveh’s amusement—and resignation.

In the house, their daily rhythm had returned to something that resembled normality. Their arguments, as petty as ever, had resumed with full force. But Alhaitham found himself giving Kaveh more room to breathe, letting him win more arguments than he would have in the past. Despite the friction, Alhaitham was content, in theory, to see Kaveh regaining his independence, to watch him move through their shared space without the constant need for support. But there was an emptiness, a hollow space left behind where their closeness had once been. He wouldn’t admit it—not even to himself—but part of him missed those nights when Kaveh had needed him.

At night, the scribe would often wake up drenched in sweat, breath ragged, the remnants of nightmares clinging to him like fog. In those dreams, Kaveh’s lifeless body haunted him, accompanied by the echoes of that terrible day in the desert. The memories he had chosen to hide from Kaveh refused to stay buried in his own mind. He would stare at the ceiling, willing the images away, but they always returned, vivid and sharp.

Sometimes, Kaveh would notice the dark circles under Alhaitham’s eyes, and he would try to ask in that worried tone of his, "Are you sleeping alright?"

"It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it." Alhaitham would always said to brush it off.

Now he finally understood why Kthe blonde had hidden that memory from him for so long. The brutal attack in the desert, the trauma inflicted by the Eremites. Just the thought of it made Alhaitham’s stomach churn. He couldn’t bear to imagine the nights Kaveh must have endured in silence.

Yet, his dreams weren’t always filled with terror. Sometimes, they were quiet. In those dreams, Alhaitham would feel the architect’s breath against his ear, and hear the soft rhythm of his heartbeat as they lay close. He would recall the warmth of those nights they had spent together, and Kaveh’s smile—soft, genuine, tinged with something more than mere gratitude. Alhaitham longed for those moments in ways he didn’t quite understand. But as much as he missed the comfort, he would never be selfish enough to wish for Kaveh to remember. His ignorance, and both his freedom and detachment from those memories, were a mercy.

Alhaitham sighed, shaking his head as he finished getting dressed. While putting on his cloak, his mind wandered to what awaited them at the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Nahida, unlike him, wouldn’t spare Kaveh the truth if he asked the right questions, and that worried Alhaitham more than he would admit. The Lesser Lord would likely tell Kaveh everything they had chosen to leave out, including the darker details of the incident. Alhaitham wasn’t sure how Kaveh would react to those revelations.

With a final adjustment of his attire, he called out, voice calm. "Kaveh, are you ready?"

A few seconds passed before the door to Kaveh’s room creaked open. The blond emerged, hurriedly fastening one of his earrings with one hand, while the other adjusted the strap of his ever-present satchel. "Almost," he muttered, hopping slightly as he tried to slip into his shoes. Once he managed, he straightened up, flashing Alhaitham a slightly rushed but genuine smile. "Alright, I’m ready."

Alhaitham eyed him briefly, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before giving a small nod. Together, they stepped outside, their footsteps in sync as they left the house, heading toward the Sanctuary.

.-.-

“Kaveh! It’s so good to see you,” exclaimed the little Archon as soon as they stepped out of the elevator and walked into the palace. She was perched on a swing made of pure Dendro energy, gently swaying back and forth, her expression as welcoming as ever. Kaveh, still feeling slightly nervous in the presence of divinity, gave her a deep bow, though his eyes couldn't help but dart around in awe.
Alhaitham, standing beside him, remained composed. “Are we interrupting anything important?” he asked, his tone polite but direct, eyes briefly scanning the surroundings.

Nahida smiled softly, shaking her head. “Not at all. I was expecting your visit, actually,” she replied, gracefully hopping off the swing and walking towards them. “I’m just sorry that Wanderer couldn’t join us. He’s attending a class at the Akademiya today, on my request.”

They followed her deeper into the sanctuary, the atmosphere quiet and serene, as sunlight filtered through the Dendro-infused walls. Kaveh, unable to suppress his excitement, looked around, murmuring under his breath about the architecture with a mix of fascination and awe. His gaze lingered on the intricate designs, the lush, almost living feel of the place.

Nahida noticed his admiration and chuckled lightly. “You’ve been here before, you know,” she said with a gentle smile. “But I suppose you don’t remember that.”

The blonde’s smile faltered at her comment, and he nodded quietly, the reason for their visit suddenly pressing on his mind. He wasn’t here to marvel at the architecture, no matter how captivating it was. His thoughts wandered back to why he’d come in the first place.

Once they reached the same room as before, Nahida gestured for them to sit. Kaveh hesitated for a moment, then sat down, still distracted by his surroundings. “The detailing here is incredible,” he remarked, glancing at the finely carved walls.

“As expected, You have a good eye for beauty,” Nahida replied, her voice soft. “Would you allow me to ask how you feel now?”

Kaveh’s eyes flickered, and after a pause, he gulped and spoke. “Fine… i think. I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel about something I can't even remember. Honestly, It’s been… strange.” His voice trailed off as he struggled to put his confusion into words. “I keep feeling like I’ve forgotten something important.”

The scribe, a little more stressed than usual, stared at Kaveh closely, his expression unreadable. He didn’t interrupt, but the weight of his concern was evident.

“That’s quite normal.” Nahida nodded thoughtfully. “Memories always carry more than just images, you know? They hold feelings, experiences—sometimes, even the absence of a short period of time could leaves a void that the mind struggles to fill.”

Kaveh’s eyes brightened at her words, as if some weight had been lifted, though only slightly. “So…do you think there’s a way to stop feeling like this?” he asked, more hopeful now.

Nahida gave a small, reassuring smile. “In a way, yes. When we extracted the corrupted knowledge from your mind, you asked me if there was a chance to recover your memories after the process. At that time, I didn’t want to influence your decision, but…” She held up her hand, and from the air, a small box made of shimmering Dendro energy materialized, floating gently in front of them. “I did prepare something.”

Kaveh’s breath caught as the box hovered in the middle of the room, glinting softly in the light. He glanced at Nahida, his heart racing with anticipation.

“This isn’t your exact memory,” Nahida explained, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “The original was too corrupted by forbidden knowledge. What I’ve created is more of a recreation—a way for your mind to connect with the pieces that remain, allowing you to experience what happened through a different lens.”

The room was silent as Kaveh stared at the glowing box, its significance weighing heavy on him. Nahida stepped closer and offered a quiet warning. “Before you decide to use it, remember that memories carry more than just past events. If you choose to restore this part of yourself, you will feel everything—the fear, the pain, the confusion. You’ll relive it all as if it’s happening now. I don't think it’ll be a nice experience.”

Looking at the small boz in front of him, Kaveh’s eyes widened slightly. He could feel Alhaitham’s gaze on him, sharp and full of caution, and his chest tightened at the weight of his concern. After a couple seconds of thinking, the blonde finally turned to look at him, his expression a mix of apprehension and determination. “You were keeping something from me, aren’t you? About what happened.”
“...I don't understand why you would want to bring that up now.” Alhaitham’s eyes darkened, but his face remained impassive.

“You are avoiding the question.”

“"It's not relevant to this matter."

“How is it not?” Kaveh frowned, clearly unsatisfied with that answer. “Those are my memories, Alhaitham. My life. I have the right to know, just like you do.”

Alhaitham broke eye contact, his voice quieter now, but firm. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Kaveh clenched his fists, a frustrated fire lighting in his eyes. “You’re saying you’d do the same? If it were your memories, would you leave them buried?”

Alhaitham remained silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “We’re not the same person, Kaveh.”

Before the argument could escalate, Nahida stepped between them, her presence calming. “Please, both of you,” she said softly but firmly. “This isn’t a debate. Kaveh, it’s your decision to make. But Alhaitham,” she turned to him, her gaze wise and knowing, “I can understand your reasons. but you need to trust that Kaveh is capable of making this choice for himself. He deserves the chance to decide, without anyone else's interference.”

Alhaitham’s shoulders sagged slightly, the tension in the room palpable as he exhaled. He finally spoke, his voice low, almost resigned. “Be careful then.”

Kaveh’s expression softened at that, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached out and touched Alhaitham’s arm, a gesture of comfort. “I’ll be fine. I’ve come this far, haven’t I? Whatever happens, you are here. I’ll be okay.”

The air hung heavy between them, thick with unspoken words. Alhaitham's heart clenched at the sincerity in Kaveh’s voice, at the resolve he saw shining in those crimson eyes.

The architect then turned towards the small Archon, his determination now written across his face. Noticing the shift in his expression, Nahida gave a gentle nod, sending the glowing box floating towards him. It hovered for just a moment before settling into his hands with an almost ethereal weight.

The walls of Dendro energy, which had enclosed the object, dissolved slowly, revealing a brilliant accumulation of energy. The blonde stared at it as It swirled rapidly, almost violently, before rushing towards his chest. Kaveh gasped as the force of it collided with his body, knocking the breath out of him. The bright glow sank into his skin, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt still— a sudden surge of energy erupting within him, coursing through his veins like wildfire.

The architect’s heart started pounding. He felt the energy twisting through him, filling the empty spaces in his mind. Information flooded in, wave after relentless wave, until it overwhelmed him. The desert’s sun, the swirling sands, the scorching winds—pain, a lot of pain.

Everything returned in a second, and his hands shot to his head as a painful memory resurfaced, as if it had been forcefully torn from some deep, hidden recess of his mind. He let out a small, involuntary cry, and his face contorted with strain.

Alhaitham’s reaction was immediate. He started to rise from his chair, his demeanor cracking as worry flickered across his face. He moved instinctively, his body tense as though ready to pull Kaveh from the torment that was wracking his frame. But before he could intervene, Nahida placed a hand on his arm, holding him back.

"Wait," she urged softly, her voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. "It's best if you don't interfere. This process is difficult, but he needs to go through it. The memories won’t harm him—not like the forbidden knowledge. It’s just… difficult to remember.”

Alhaitham, though clearly troubled, clenched his jaw and nodded, returning to his seat but keeping his gaze locked on Kaveh. His chest tightened as he watched the blond, who remained hunched over, his body trembling as he clung to his head.

It didn't take too long, though. After a few seconds passed, the energy within him seemed to shift, rising and falling, until—finally—it began to fade. The intense green glow surrounding him softened, and then slowly dissipated into the air like mist after a storm.

Slowly, Kaveh's breathing steadied, and the tightness in his chest loosened. He removed his hands from his head, his fingers trembling, and for a brief moment, he just sat there, his eyes still wide.
He lifted his head, searching for something—someone, and his eyes met Alhaitham’s. In that instant, the room seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them. The scribe’s expression, so often unreadable, now held a depth that words couldn’t capture. There was a quiet understanding, an unspoken conversation that passed between them, steeped in everything they’d been through. It was as though, in that gaze, they found a shared truth, something neither had to say aloud.

A warmth spread through Kaveh, despite the lingering ache from the memories. Alhaitham didn’t have to say anything; the look in his eyes was enough.

“How are you feeling?” Nahida’s voice cut through the moment, gentle but probing, pulling them both back to the present. Kaveh was the first to break eye contact, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he coughed softly, trying to compose himself.

“Well… that wasn’t exactly enjoyable,” he said with a shaky laugh, his voice still carrying the remnants of the emotional storm he had just endured.

The small archon gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “The truth can often be painful,” she acknowledged softly. “But I hope this helped clear some of the doubt and confusion you’ve been carrying. Tell me, Kaveh,” she asked, her gaze direct but compassionate, “do you think it was worth it?”

Sensing the weight of her question, the blonde paused, leaving her words hanging in the air. His mind replayed the flood of memories—the hands over all his body, the smell of his own blood, the fear he felt—but also something else. Something warm and reassuring, like an anchor amidst the storm. Kaveh remembered the clean scent of freshly washed hair tickling his nose as he slept. Gentle hands brushing his cheeks, wiping away his tears, and the firm grip of strong arms carrying him, offering a sense of safety.

His eyes flicked towards Alhaitham again, who, for once, seemed to be awaiting his answer with more interest than usual.

Straightening in his seat, Kaveh let out a quiet chuckle that surprised both Nahida and Alhaitham. “Of course, it was worth it,” he said with a soft smile, his voice steadier now. “Not everything was as bad as I thought. A lot happened during those weeks, and there are memories I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, though the smallest hint of something—perhaps relief—flickered in his eyes.

Nahida looked pleased with his response, her smile warming. “I’m glad to hear that, Kaveh.”

The scribe, true to form, didn’t comment further, though his silence spoke volumes. Kaveh wasn’t sure how much Alhaitham had guessed about the memories he had regained, but there was a shift in the air between them now—a quiet understanding that lingered.

“Well, It seems that your journey of self-discovery is far from over, but I'm sure you'll be well accompanied,” the archon said with a big smile. “For now, I think it’s time for both of you to return home and rest,”

Walking with them back to the central room, the little goddess hopped between steps, her tone more sweeter. “You’re always welcome here, though. Please, visit us again soon.”

Kaveh smiled, the warmth in her words lifting his spirits. “We’ll definitely be back,” he promised with a lighthearted grin, though the depth of his gratitude was unmistakable. He shot a quick glance at Alhaitham, as if to confirm he’d follow through with that promise, and the scribe gave a brief nod, in his usual stoic agreement.

Nahida gave a small wave as she watched them head toward the elevator “Take care of each other,” she added softly, her voice carrying a note of understanding that reached both of them.
They exchanged quiet goodbyes, and with one final look back, Kaveh and Alhaitham left the sanctuary, the sunlight filtering through the trees as they stepped outside.

The city buzzed with life; students walking down the streets, books clutched in their arms, and children raced around, their laughter echoing between the vibrant homes. Despite the liveliness around them, Kaveh and Alhaitham remained silent. The blonde looked at the ground somewhat uncomfortable, he really didn't know what to say after all that. For Alhaitham, well, silence came naturally to him, especially in moments like these.

Their footsteps fell in sync with the pulse of the city, but neither spoke a word until halfway home. "Do you want to grab lunch before heading back?" Alhaitham asked, in his typical, straightforward manner, as if the past few hours hadn’t been filled with emotional upheaval.

Kaveh glanced over, almost startled by the question. "I’m not hungry yet," he responded, his voice still slightly strained from earlier. "Besides, I thought I’d cook something at home. We have the whole day free anyway."

Satisfied with his answer, the scribe nodded without pressing further, and they continued their walk, still wrapped in that strange quiet, though it was now less heavy, more comfortable.

Once they reached the house, Alhaitham unlocked the door, as he always did—after all, he had both his key and Kaveh’s. The door creaked open, welcoming them back to the familiar warmth of their shared space. Walking inside, Kaveh stretched his arms out dramatically, rolling his neck to release the tension still clinging to him. "It's a beautiful day," he said, more to himself than anyone, but his voice had that note of forced cheerfulness. "I was thinking... maybe we could go to the tavern tonight?" He turned to Alhaitham, his eyes shining with a mix of hope and lingering exhaustion.

Alhaitham, already removing his coat and hanging it by the door, raised a brow. "You want to get drunk again?" There was a slight edge to his voice, though it was mostly masked by his usual nonchalance.
Kaveh pouted, though it was more playful than genuine. "Oh, come on! I promise not to overdo it this time. Besides, we both deserve a little fun after... everything."

Alhaitham sighed but couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. "Fine. But I’m not carrying you home if you end up passed out."
Kaveh grinned, his mood lightening instantly. "Deal! I’ll call our friends too. Maybe Cyno, Tighnari—"

"I don't think they'll be able to come," Alhaitham interrupted gently, cutting Kaveh’s enthusiasm short. "Tighnari left to Aaru village this morning, and Cyno’s busy with the investigation."

Kaveh’s expression faltered for a second, disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Oh... I see." He nodded, trying to hide the dip in his mood. "Well, it can just be the two of us, then. That’s fun still."

Alhaitham glanced at him, noting the shift in his voice. He moved towards the living room, pulling out a book from one of the shelves before sitting on the couch. "Speaking of the investigation," he began, flipping open the pages, "it’s mostly wrapped up. Cyno’s been overseeing the final steps. The evidence is clear, and the sentences have already been handed down. The sage leading the operation will spend the rest of his life in prison, and the Eremites involved will face their own punishments. As for the scholars—they’ve been expelled from de Akademiya and are awaiting trial."

Kaveh listened quietly, the weight of his sentences sitting heavily on his shoulders once again. He crossed the room, leaning against the doorway. His expression grew distant as Alhaitham spoke of sentences and justice. For a moment, his mind wandered back to the desert, to the moments he’d just relived in painful clarity. "I guess that’s for the best," he murmured, though there was no joy in his voice. Instead, there was an underlying bitterness, a sharpness that came from remembering too much, too quickly.

Alhaitham closed his book, his attention fully shifting to Kaveh. "How do you feel now that you remember everything?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

The architect was silent for a while, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. He moved closer, sitting down beside Alhaitham but keeping a bit of distance between them. "It was awful," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... What scared me the most wasn’t what happened to me out there. It was how I thought you’d react when you found out. I..." He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly in his lap. "I didn’t want you to think of me differently. Like I was broken... or tainted."

Alhaitham’s eyes softened, but he didn’t interrupt. He simply watched Kaveh, his usual stoic expression giving way to something more tender, more vulnerable.

Kaveh continued, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Everyone says I'm too emotional, but this... It's different. I didn’t want to change the way you saw me. I was willing to—" He swallowed hard, his words catching in his throat. "I was willing to die without you ever knowing, just so you wouldn’t see me like that."

Alhaitham’s heart clenched at the confession, though his face remained composed. Kaveh’s words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and lingering pain.

“I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn't tell me”

"N-no no, that's not it.” Kaveh took a shaky breath, his hands gripping the fabric of his pants. "I know you too well, and I knew you’d worry too much. So when Nahida said there was nothing more we could do, I convinced myself that lying was the best way to handle it, and I forced myself to believe it was for the best."

"But… when you found out that night, and stayed…" the blonde's voice cracked, and he couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. "Everything in my mind changed. I realized that... I didn’t want to die. It hit me how much I’d made you suffer with my silence, and I didn’t want to leave you behind." A sob escaped him, small and quiet, but full of all the emotions he’d been holding in.

Alhaitham set his book aside and stood, moving closer to Kaveh. He crouched in front of him, his fingers gently brushing away the tears that spilled down the blond’s cheeks. His touch was soft, his gaze filled with something Kaveh had rarely seen—tenderness, maybe even love.

"Kaveh," Alhaitham said softly, his voice as steady as ever, though there was a warmth to it now. "You’re not broken. You’ve never been broken. And there’s nothing about you that could make me think any less of you. I only wish you didn’t carry all of this alone for so long."

Kaveh blinked through his tears, his heart aching at the sincerity in Alhaitham’s voice. "But I made you suffer, too," he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Even after I was cured, I didn’t know you were hurting."
Alhaitham shook his head gently, his thumb wiping away the last of Kaveh’s tears. "That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that youŕe here now. That's more than enough for me."

He rose slowly from the floor, still holding Kaveh's hand in his own. The blond's fingers trembled slightly, as if caught between the remnants of his sobs and the comfort of that warm, intimate touch.
"You should wash your face," Alhaitham said softly, his voice steady. With a gentle tug, he urged Kaveh to stand up from the couch.

The blonde quickly nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand, still catching his breath. He followed Alhaitham to the bathroom, the silence between them no longer heavy with tension, but something else—something softer.

Even as the last of his tears clung to his eyelashes, Kaveh felt the fog in his mind begin to lift.

In the bathroom, Alhaitham guided him to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet, his movements careful and deliberate, as if handling something fragile. Kaveh lowered himself onto the seat, his gaze following Alhaitham's every step. The scribe grabbed a towel, wetting it under the faucet. He wrung it out, turning back to Kaveh with that familiar look of focus that always seemed to settle on his face when he had a task at hand, no matter how small.

Alhaitham leaned forward and pressed the damp towel gently to Kaveh's cheeks, wiping away the traces of his tears. The soft fabric was cool against his skin, the sensation pulling him back from the storm of emotions that had just swept through him. Kaveh remained silent at first, too caught up in steadying his breath, but when he glanced up and saw the scribe’s concentrated expression, a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

“I didn’t know the scribe could be so good at taking care of others,” Kaveh teased, his voice still thick from crying but lighter now.

Alhaitham paused for a moment, his hand lingering on Kaveh’s face as he looked at him with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “This is a rather... particular occasion,” he replied, his tone dry as ever. “Don’t get used to it.”

Kaveh huffed softly in mock offense, though the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re awful. You should try being nicer to me more often.”

Alhaitham hummed, neither agreeing nor denying, but the hint of a smile touched his otherwise serious face. “Perhaps,” he said simply before continuing to gently wipe away the remnants of Kaveh’s tears.

When he finished, Alhaitham stood up, the towel in hand, and made a move towards the door, his usual efficient stride taking over. It seemed like he was giving Kaveh the space to continue freshening up on his own. But Kaveh, watching him, frowned slightly

“Where are you going?” he asked, a hint of curiosity and something playful in his tone.

Alhaitham stopped in his tracks and glanced back over his shoulder. “Out.” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kaveh scoffed at the bluntness of his response and, without thinking, raised his arms toward Alhaitham in an exaggerated gesture, still sitting on the toilet seat. His eyes gleamed with a familiar mischievous spark.

Alhaitham blinked, staring at him for a moment, completely thrown off by the gesture. “What are you doing?” he asked, genuinely confused.

Kaveh waved his arms a little, as if the meaning were obvious. “Carry me,” he demanded, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

Alhaitham gave him a skeptical look, clearly not believing what he was hearing. “Why?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in that usual deadpan way of his.

“Because I want you to,” he said, his voice filled with challenge, daring him to refuse.

Kaveh met his gaze with a defiant smirk and they stared at each other for several long moments, his arms still raised in expectation. Alhaitham sighed, a deep, resigned sound that seemed to echo off the tiled walls of the bathroom. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally gave in, shaking his head as he stepped forward.

Without another word, he leaned down and carefully scooped Kaveh up into his arms, the same way he had carried him through that night, when the blond had been too weak to walk. Kaveh instinctively wrapped his arms around Alhaitham’s neck, a smile spreading across his face as he nestled against him.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes,” Alhaitham muttered, though his voice lacked any real frustration.

Kaveh chuckled softly, looking up at him with a playful gleam in his eyes. “I’m just taking advantage of this... particular occasion where you’re being so good to me,” he teased.

Alhaitham rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he carried Kaveh out of the bathroom.

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked, his voice soft yet steady, the subtle weight of Kaveh familiar in his arms.

Kaveh, resting his head against Alhaitham’s chest, responded with a small sigh. “Take me to my room. I need to work on a few plans before we even think about lunch.” His voice had returned to its usual tone, but the warmth between them lingered.

Without another word, Alhaitham complied, carrying the architect through the hall with slow, deliberate steps, as if wanting to prolong this fleeting moment of closeness. Each step echoed softly in the quiet house, the familiarity of their surroundings making the moment feel strangely intimate. When they finally reached the doorframe to Kaveh’s room, Alhaitham carefully lowered him to the ground. The movement wasn’t the most graceful, but there was no lack of care in the way Alhaitham handled him.

Kaveh’s feet touched the floor, yet his hands lingered on Alhaitham’s shoulders, unwilling to fully let go. In a gesture both simple and profound, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against Alhaitham’s cheek. It was brief, yet the impact of it was anything but.

Alhaitham stood frozen, eyes widening in a rare display of surprise. For a moment, he couldn’t quite process what had happened. His heart seemed to skip a beat as his mind raced to catch up with the soft warmth that still lingered on his skin.

Kaveh, oblivious to the whirlwind of thoughts in Alhaitham’s mind, turned with a smile, walking towards his desk as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Thanks for the ride,” he said warmly, his voice light, as if the kiss had been the most natural thing in the world.

Alhaitham, still standing in the doorway, found himself rooted to the spot, torn between the urge to leave and the need to…say something. He was rarely one to let his emotions dictate his actions, yet now, with Kaveh just feets away, he found himself unable to decide what to do. His brain sought clarity, but before he could make up his mind, his mouth moved on its own, betraying him.

“Why… did you do that?” he asked, his voice low but laced with an unfamiliar doubt.

Kaveh turned slightly in his chair, glancing at the scribe over his shoulder. His expression was playful, but there was a tenderness in his eyes. “Just returning the favor,” he said simply, his smile curling at the edges. “Technically, you owed me one.”

Alhaitham blinked, momentarily confused, and realization hitted him. Kaveh fully turned around, his eyes locking with Alhaitham’s, something mischievous glinting in their depths. He raised a hand and pointed towards his own forehead, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you really think you can kiss someone in his sleep and just get away with it?”

“So… you were awake,” Alhaitham said, almost incredulous. His eyes narrowed slightly in disbelief.

Kaveh shrugged, his expression half-amused, half-sincere. “I don’t know if I was awake, but those memories Nahida recreated for me… They were unusually vivid. It’s almost like I was watching it happen as a third person.”

Alhaitham, uncharacteristically caught off guard, tried to steer the conversation away, his tone returning to its usual deadpan. “Well, It wasn’t important,” he said dismissively, already turning to make a hasty exit.

He wanted to retreat to his room, to give himself space from this conversation that seemed to be heading toward something he wasn’t quite ready for, but then, Kaveh’s adamant voice stopped him. “Haitham.” The single word, soft yet firm, echoed in the air, pulling Alhaitham back. He turned slightly, the weight of Kaveh’s gaze pinning him in place.

“Did you mean it?” the architect asked him, almost in a whisper, as his eyes scanned Alhaitham’s face, searching for any sign to cling to.

Trapped, the scribe sighed, not out of frustration, but because the weight of his answers pressed heavily against him. His mind raced for the right words, something logical, something that wouldn’t require him to face the truth head-on, but Kaveh’s gaze didn’t waver. There was an impatience in the way he waited, his breath catching slightly as though he couldn’t hold back much longer.

Would it make a difference?

Alhaitham’s thoughts tangled, the answer unclear. But then, against every instinct he had to remain cautious, to avoid unnecessary risks, something inside him shifted. He met Kaveh’s eyes, and in that moment, he made a choice.

“Yes. I meant it,” he said, the words spoken with a quiet but undeniable certainty.

Kaveh’s eyes widened, just for a second, his expression betraying a flicker of surprise. For a moment, Alhaitham felt a pang of uncertainty—wondering if he’d said too much, if he’d crossed some invisible line. But before he could utter another word, Kaveh’s face softened into the most radiant smile Alhaitham had ever seen.

“Stupid scribe,” Kaveh murmured, still smiling, his voice light but filled with something more. “You’re so dense sometimes.”

Before Alhaitham could even respond, Kaveh stood from his chair, closing the distance between them in quick strides. His hands reached up, cupping Alhaitham’s face with surprising gentleness, and without hesitation, he kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed, nor was it lascivious. It was a kiss that felt like a connection—two pieces finally finding their place, fitting together as if they had always belonged. Kaveh’s lips were soft and warm, pressing against Alhaitham’s with a kind of need that wasn’t desperate but deeply felt. It was as if, in that moment, they were bridging the unspoken distance that had long lingered between them.

Alhaitham, initially startled, found himself leaning into it, his hands moving to rest lightly on Kaveh’s waist. The kiss wasn’t what he had expected—there was no chaos, no confusion, only clarity. The truth of it settled in his chest, spreading through him like warmth on a cold night. It felt… right.

When Kaveh finally pulled away, his breath came in shallow gasps, his face flushed with a soft, lingering heat. He looked into Alhaitham’s eyes, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
“That,” Kaveh said softly, his voice slightly breathless, “was a real kiss.”

Alhaitham stood there for a moment, speechless, his mind trying to catch up with what had just happened. He could still feel the warmth of Kaveh’s lips lingering on his own, the faintest trace of that connection echoing between them. There was nothing more to say—words felt unnecessary now.

Later that day, Alhaitham would likely find himself carrying Kaveh, once again, through the streets of Sumeru. This time, it would be because his partner had had too much to drink.

The blonde would probably shout nonsense, and make a scene complaining about how he should have kissed him sooner, but in that moment, Alhaitham wouldn’t mind. In fact, he couldn’t be more grateful to hear it.