Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I was talking to Kaveh the other day,” Lumine offhandedly mentioned, propping her head up against her hand as she swirled the grape juice in her glass around with a displeased expression. Despite spending at least five minutes trying to convince Lambad that she was indeed thousands of years old, the man evidently did not believe her, “Saw him at this tavern while he was wallowing in his sorrows about a client.”

“Oh? Seems to be nothing new,” Alhaitham replied with a raised eyebrow. Despite having his headphone volume turned up moments before, he subtly rotated the dial to hear the traveler better.

It wasn’t often that he met up with anyone, even less when it did not involve that finical roommate of his dragging him along to parties and meetups he wouldn’t have gone to otherwise. He and Lumine were simply meeting because she asked for help regarding the translation of some scriptures from Natlan and they had trailed off topic soon after.

Despite his apparent disinterest when it came to the subject of others, there was no denying Alhaitham’s abrupt curiosity when discussing matters regarding Kaveh. It was completely normal to be piqued at the affairs of a friend, but from the way Lumine was looking at him in the moment, she was clearly thinking something well otherwise.

Floating to the side, forgotten, Paimon made herself known when her high-pitched voice cut through the mild buzz of the people around them, “Yeah! He said that you’re an egotistical piece of-!”

The traveler’s sharp reflexes shut her companion up by grabbing her out of the air and into the tight grip of her hand, Alhaitham watched unmoved as Paimon struggled to escape, long-winded whines of protest coming from the fairy leaving him impassive.

Cracking open the book he always kept on hand as Lumine scolded her floating companion, he tuned them out while inwardly contemplating Paimon’s wording. Egotistical and egocentric essentially had the same meaning in essence, while he could not deny having a certain sense of priority directed on himself rather than those around him, an argument could be made that he was not as vain and boastful of those that were truly egotistical. Therefore, for what reason may it matter, egocentric would be a better word to describe him.

Of course, if Kaveh truly did call him self-centered, it would be completely veritable, but Alhaitham would rather be labeled as such than be as needlessly self-sacrificing as he was. When it came to the well-being of others, the other man just couldn’t stand by, even if his own welfare was thrown to the wind in the process. It was illogical to the highest degree, but still comprehensively a part of Kaveh that cuts through the man’s brilliance in other topics.

“He didn’t say that,” Lumine sighed, throwing Paimon behind her just for the fairy to fly back to them, angrily stomping her foot with ire, “However, Kaveh did say something rather interesting.”

The traveler let out a few short coughs to clear her throat before speaking, her tone a rather accurate imitation of his fussy roommate's, “If someone happens to drown next to him, he’ll most likely stand on the shore and mumble something about respecting other people’s fates.”

“For someone who is empathetic to a fault, he has this habit of skewing others’ perspectives when riled up,” Alhaitham replied rather placidly, turning the page of the book he had in his hand.

Lumine cocking her head at him, perhaps she didn’t expect him to be so calm when talking about Kaveh for once. Alhaitham did notice that he tended to become more spirited when speaking to him, but he had never given it much thought aside from his original observation.

Monotonous expression distorting with a sly air, it wasn’t bitter, but rather filled with half-hearted mockery and playful contempt, “It would be a disservice to label his disposition without taking into account of its multifaceted nature, but he always seems to look for the best in others while staying rather obstinate when it comes to any redeeming trait regarding myself.”

“No one is completely immune to prejudice,” Lumine nodded, her eyebrow slightly raised at his minute change in demeanor, she mentioned nothing about it, “I do have a question to ask you though, would you let someone drown like that?”

“Assuming that you don’t truly mean in such a contrived circumstance and are moreover questioning if I would extend a hand out to others. Then, my answer would likely be that if I decided to do so, it would not be in the way Kaveh does,” He answered smoothly, crossing his arms. To return someone’s irrationality with even more irrationality never ends well, regardless of good intentions.

Alhaitham continued, “Rather, shouldn’t one question what they did to end up drowning in the first place?”

“Are you saying that it’s their fault for drowning?” She countered, putting her cup down with a firm thud on the table. It was all in lighthearted fashion, a teasing grin widening across her face, but her question did hold some weight to it, “Seems kind of apathetic, don’t you think?”

“Most people aren’t born drowning, traveler. It’s all a matter of how one fell into the water to begin with,” Alhaitham responded with ease, unmoved by Lumine’s taunting attitude, “And if they truly do drown, isn’t it only right to believe that they had brought it upon themselves?”

“You’re ignoring the possibility of someone being… let’s say, pushed into the water. What then, Alhaitham?” She questioned, finger idly tracing the rim of her glass. Striking gold eyes meeting him in an odd moment, “If you were thrown into raging waters, is it your fault if you drown?”

For a long moment, he looked back at her with a sense of passivity lingering on his face as he continued not to speak. As his mouth opened, there was a certain glint in his eyes, a ghost of what was once ferity.

Bitter, it almost seemed bitter in a way. His gaze trained back on the traveler; there was no denying the way it was harshly cold around the edges, not at her, but clearly at a certain notion that her question had brought up.

“Well, I’d simply learn how to swim.”

⟡

Idiots. Everyone around him is an idiot who couldn’t discern right from left.

At least, that was what he once said before his grandmother knocked him over the head with her sandal. It was deserved, of course. There is no bigger obstacle in the way of true brilliance than an overinflated ego. Those arrogant scholars his grandmother had talked about in the Akademiya were true proof of that.

Having read his way through a good section of the House of Daena, abandoning picture books for elaborate academic studies, Alhaitham had become rather comfortable being homeschooled.

He flew through his lessons and the rather plentiful assignments his grandmother gave as homework all in a morning. Just in time to read and laugh at conjectural theses made by detached scholars who clearly didn’t know a thing about what they were talking about by noon.

Grandmother having taken notice of his rather sharp intelligence for his age, decided to enroll him into the Akademiya early. It was only a suggestion, of course. While he had much preferred to stay at home and continue his learning on an individual basis, a rather offhand comment from her about how she was worried about his social development changed his mind.

The Akademiya uniforms for primary school were all too suffocating for him. Alhaitham disliked the coarse material, and the thick embroidery thread felt absolutely revellent against his skin, but that didn’t even begin to entail how awful he found the schooling to be. He didn’t know what to expect when entering; having attended at an age earlier than his peers, it would have been acceptable to assume that they were just around his learning level, if not higher.

Sitting in the back of the classroom watching his teacher’s vision glow idly instead of focusing on basic multiplication tables, Alhaitham learned that was not the case. He needed no introduction to such mundane skills that he had already practiced thousands of times over and was left unbelievably bored. Yearning to be back home with his grandmother’s extensive collection of hard-copy books and lounging up in the tree in their backyard that she had always scolded him for climbing upon, the best headwork he had used all day was the realization that absolutely nothing was stopping him from leaving.

Slipping out of the classroom while the teacher was busy lecturing two misbehaving classmates, Alhaitham looked up at the morning sun having risen into the early afternoon. Children weren’t given Akasha terminals, so Alhaitham wasn’t sure of the exact time, but it was incredibly obvious that he hadn’t lasted more than half the school day.

Effortlessly managing the winding and lengthy pathways of Sumeru City after having recognized the way home from going out with his grandmother, she was still rightfully shocked to hear him knocking at the front door after making it home himself.

Cumbersome Akademiya cap abandoned and robes slightly untied to lessen the great annoyance of such chafing fabric against him, Alhaitham’s wide teal eyes rimmed with amber looked up into his grandmother’s, the two still standing at the doorway, “I don’t like it there, the courses are exasperatingly long-winded but meaningless and all the other students are boring. There is nothing to be learned there that I cannot teach myself. I would rather just read alone all day instead of wasting my time sitting in a classroom.”

Grandmother blinked once and then twice, still having yet to have gotten over the surprise of her grandson showing up at their doorstep despite her dropping him off at the Akademiya that morning. Her features, ripened with age, suddenly widened into a smile full of irrefutable fondness.

Taking Alhaitham into her arms, she knew very well he didn’t appreciate physical contact all too much, but she also knew she was likely the one exception to that boundary. Grandmother smiled, voice soft and wise, “You are just like your father and mother. They both had a natural affinity for erudition but were unbelievably stubborn. All I can hope is that one day, you are lucky enough to find someone to match your wit just as your father had once did.”

She sat Alhaitham down in the living room, wandering off into the kitchen to hopefully give him a little snack as they had always done in the past. While doing so, she continued to recount a few stories of his parents, “They were an oddly stiff pair, both having gained intellect far beyond their years at such a young age, perhaps in doing so they had gained a few eccentricities. Your father was always a very stoic man but was complimented by your mother’s slightly softer nature. Inseparable, even in death…”

His grandmother trailed for a moment, stopping to wistfully reminisce as she looked back at Alhaitham. She had always said he was a spitting image of his father, after all. “Do you think you would have ever liked to meet them, Alhaitham?”

It was a strange question to be asking anyone, let alone a primary schooler. Still, she was well aware of his maturity when it came to such topics and how he had dealt with it rather apathetically in the past. In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered to him all too much whether he got to meet them in this life. After all, there was no use in dwelling on those who were dead.

There was an odd lump in his throat that he swallowed with the thought. As far as he was concerned, they were the ones who had made him, but they had imparted nothing on his life aside from giving it to him. To become caught up in the affairs of the departed was unreasonable; they simply could not care for him, so why should he for them?

“I only need you, Grandmother,” he replied in a firm tone that softened at the edges from his childish voice. Accepting the plate that she gave him, small hands busied themselves with grabbing and biting into delicious baked goods, “There is no need to ask me what I think of them, they cannot think of me either.”

She had accepted the answer at the time, but as the air changed around them, he had a feeling that Grandmother wished to say something else. Watching her overridden with grief, he’s sure the words wrapped up together in her throat before being swallowed back down. As he thought of such an unpleasant action, Alhaitham silently vowed never to tender himself with such emotions.

Like arrogance, other vulnerable feelings such as love, grief, anger, anxiety, and guilt rot a scholar’s proper intellect. To cure oneself of being blinded by such impairments, wouldn’t all one need to do is cut the source off at the root? In this life, the only thing Alhaitham needs is himself and his grandmother. Any sort of companionship out of his realm is far too much of an inconvenience for what it is worth.

Relationships spark up nuisances that are only a roadblock in a scholar’s pursuit of knowledge.

Things like death are inevitable, and while one could sit and ponder the many ways one could deal with it, the one undeniable fact is that death simply is. Through medicine and science, many could run away from it and hide from the inescapable fate that awaits all beings regardless of age, gender, and ideals, but for every step away one takes from the edge, the reaper takes two more forwards.

Time had passed, and Alhaitham knew better than anyone that his grandmother was getting old. Contrary to many unsound studies, tampering with the equilibrium of life and death was not only highly illegal but impossible. After all, he had looked into such matters himself as he attempted to block out the sound of Grandmother hacking coughs in the next room over.

Death is a painful certainty but with the eyes and innocence of the child lingering beneath his mature exterior, Alhaitham refused to acknowledge the ideation of his grandmother dying.

She had gotten too sick to leave the house, spending most of her days on bedrest while Alhaitham sat in a chair beside her, listening to her stories and peacefully reading books to pass the time.

“I have more than enough funds to hire a caregiver, Alhaitham,” She had once said, her smooth voice that once spilled out knowledge like a waterfall running dry and hoarse. Her hand reached up to his cheek, still having yet to lose his youthful features, “You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Is there something wrong with the way I am doing things?” He responded earnestly, his questioning tone just making Grandmother laugh with a certain fondness. Full-bodied and warm, he ignored the way it tapered off, life leaving with it, “If something is wrong, tell me so I can fix it.”

“There is nothing wrong, my dear, but don’t you wish to be doing something else instead of taking care of this old woman?” his grandmother asked, his heart stirring up with something ugly and bitter. Alhaitham’s face remained calm. “Your studies shouldn’t be your only priority. I worry that once you grow up, there will be no memory for you to look back on.”

“I’ll remember you,” Alhaitham replied, taking his grandmother’s hand in his. Holding it tightly as if he was trying to cling on to that moment, to hold it close and never let time pass since forward, “I’ll remember reading in your library, the old tree in the backyard that you always scolded me for climbing-”

“Alhaitham.”

Tone always gentle, Grandmother did not need to say another word to make herself clear, as she knew how well he understood the point she was making. Both sitting in acquiescent silence, Alhaitham minutely tightened his grip around her hand, feeling every dip and curve as if to commit it to memory.

“You are such a smart child. Many such people have large egos and a propensity to act on their own. You are outstanding and possess a broader horizon than ordinary people,” She spoke, each syllable ingraining itself into Alhaitham’s memory. Every breath, every pause, he wished with each bit of illogicality he possessed within him for time to just stop, even for just a couple of minutes.

“This is not a bad thing, but you must take care to have a clearer mind than others. You must understand that vain pursuits are but dust and that you must discern your path with the greatest of wisdom.”

“I will,” Alhaitham replied, brows furrowing together; the speed in which he had said it almost came off as dismissive if not for the concerned look on his face, “Is something wrong? Are you in any pain?”

His grandmother just shook her head. Ever since he was little, he had picked up on her habits and patterns, and something in his throat seemed to close up as he recalled that Grandmother never really spoke when she told a lie. She had always just nodded or shook her head, just as she did now.

“I’ll go call a doctor-”

“There is no need,” She interrupted, grabbing his wrist when he abruptly stood up. Stopping Alhaitham in his movements, her gaze was always affectionate, but the light in her eyes never shone as bright as they once did, “Please do me a favor, Alhaitham.”

Asking him to go over to Port Ormos to pick up some drafts she had left with a friend, he had firmly protested at first. Arguing that they could just mail them over and how wholly unsafe it would be for him to leave her alone for so long, his grandmother simply refuted in that same gentle tone of hers. Always calm and pacifying, he was no match against her will.

It would take two days before he would get back even if he didn’t stay in Port Ormos overnight. Grandmother urging him to rest the night when he got there anyway, he simply shook his head, firmly responding that he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he was home.

He had been to Port Ormos enough times to not need a map to get there, all he needed was a small bag carrying necessities and a book. Reading it on his way there, Alhaitham quickly regretted not choosing a different one as he realized the one he was carrying discussed the various phenomenons relating to death.

The rally before death, also known as terminal lucidity, is described as a phenomenon in which a deeply unresponsive patient close to death abruptly becomes alert and coherent. Lasting anywhere from minutes to hours, it is of temporary nature and many cannot describe its root cause.

Arriving in Port Ormos, Alhaitham turned to the next chapter as he waited to meet his grandmother’s old friend and deliver her drafts back to her.

Apparent post-mortem consciousness suggests that brain activity can continue for a short time after death, potentially implying that people are briefly aware that they are dead before their brain shuts down. Studies have shown brain wave activity moments after death with no clear explanation.

Walking back in the dead of night, he turns to the next page. The dim glow of Porm Ormos’ lights surrounded him, and as he read until it was too dark to see the lettering on the pages anymore.

Many cultures around Teyvat have believe in psychopomps, beings that guide souls to the afterlife. Angels, animals, and mythical creatures, they are all rooted in the comforting notion that the journey after death is not isolated, but one guided by a protector.

Turning to the last pages of the book, he could see Sumeru City in the distance. This section had no title, only a small description that was sparse compared to other chapters.

With no medical explanation, some terminally ill or dying patients only pass away when their loved ones are not present. Some have a strong desire to protect their family from the pain of witnessing their final moments, and spiritual causes suggest that the sense of closure they need can only be found without the clinging emotional attachments of family being present.

It is quite common to be strolling the streets of Sumeru City and seeing children playing giving half-hearted words of apology to passersby they accidentally run into in the midst of their fun.

Despite being around their age, the way Alhaitham sprinted through the pathway and back through the gates and winding pathways of Sumeru City was full of nothing but dire urgency.

Heartbeat reverberating in his eardrums, Alhaitham cannot spare any sort of regretful acknowledgement as he bumps into strangers. Teeth tightly clenched together with nerve-wracking anxiety reaching from every end of his limbs and back up to his head, body refusing to stop before he made it to the front door.

There was a street dog in front of the door, barking with a sort of fervor that made him unnervingly tense. Slowly edging closer, his footsteps synced to the same beat of his heart. He waved it away, but for the longest minute, the dog didn’t leave. Idly standing by, its stationary behind it, once it padded away Alhaitham was left alone again.

Palms damp with sweat looking for the keys in his bag, he could feel them in his hand, metallic and rounded at the edges. Bringing them up to the door, Alhaitham paused, key inserted into the lock and hand against the door handle.

Because something smelled like it was rotting.

His hand stayed firmly planted against the door handle and there yet there was no mistaking the way it trembled with certain knowledge. This was not happening. This was not happening. This was not happening. This was not happening.

Head sending mixed signals, chemical reactions each more incomprehensive than the last, Alhaitham crouched in front of the doorway. Head tucked in between his knees, even with how level-headed and wise he was for his age, beneath that exterior was a child who still couldn’t accept the belief that his grandmother had left him behind by himself.

The hot sun beating down on him for what felt like hours, Alhaitham idly thought about how it was a beautiful day outside. Birds were chirping, scattered padisarahs bloomed towards the light and people roamed the streets. All blissfully unaware, because life doesn’t simply stop for the certain and incongruent nature of death.

Nausea creeped up the back of his throat, acrid and bitter as he gathered every bit of will within him to turn the handle. Staring at the floor for the longest time, there were his own feet by the doorway, the floor leading straight into the living room.

Smell of decay worsened as he took a step in, sulfur and ammonia made Alhaitham’s head spin. He sharply turned his gaze trained at the floorboard up towards the living room he and his grandmother had spent countless hours resting in. Where she had told him stories, where she had sat calmly refuting his half-hearted lamentations about his homework, where she had lived before she had died.

Grandmother always had a favorite seat in the living room, a worn rocking chair near the window with a view to the backyard.

Where Alhaitham found her was no different.

⟡

He had planned out her funeral himself. Contacted Bismartan to confirm her death and went through the paperwork himself to obtain a death certificate for her burial.

They had no immediate family to contact, but Alhaitham had gone through a list of her Akasha Terminal contacts to figure out who his grandmother was close enough to so he could notify them.

Talking to the funeral director, she had made some comments that were filled with a sort of pity for him. After all, seeing a child plan out his guardian’s wake would certainly strike a fruitless chord of sympathy within many. Asking Alhaitham if there was no other adult around to organize it in his stead, the funeral director's frown deepened as he looked back at her with a blank look before shaking his head.

“I don’t need anyone else to do it for me, I am more than capable of organizing my grandmother’s funeral myself,” He had told her, disliking the youthful air his voice carried. It certainly did not help his point, “Do you need any more information? If not, I’ll be leaving now.”

“Still, it would be best if a grown-up handles those things for you-”

“I said that I am competent enough to handle it on my own,” Alhaitham persisted, interrupting the woman before she could attempt to persuade him any further. His tone had hardened, becoming detached and embittered.

What could an adult do that he couldn’t? The long outdated notion that another is more adept and experienced simply because of age was useless to him. He hadn’t needed anyone when it was just him and Grandmother and he had no need for anyone even now.

His grandmother had made burial arrangements long before her passing, so all he had to do was arrange the service. She had never raised him to be religious, as she wasn’t herself, but one of her old friends had offered to be the funeral celebrant. Alhaitham wasn’t keen on the idea of speaking more than a few words at her wake. After all, such overly sentimental phrases would be wasted on an impartial crowd rather than her.

Dead people cannot hear nor speak, so when he looked down at her, body wrapped in kafan and perfumed with itr, Alhaitham did not say a word. He did not cry, he did not scream, because he knew that even if he did so, she would not be there to comfort him and wipe his tears away.

He ignored the whispers of the people behind him, all close friends and coworkers of his grandmother. A pitiful sight, he’s sure. Something that strikes at one’s emotional heartstrings in a sense of faint compassion. Of course, with the superficiality befitting of every human being, there were various whispers that held a different sentiment.

“To die alone… What a tragic end. You know, I heard that her grandson was the one who had found her.”

“You don’t say? Poor child, but don’t you also think that it’s a bit odd that he doesn’t look sad? It’s one thing not to cry, but he looks quite apathetic.”

“Don’t say that! I’m sure that he’s just in shock…”

“Her grandson had called Bismartan after discovering her so I had been called to the scene as well, I must add that he had talked with the doctors and Matra quite normally considering what he had seen.”

“You don’t think that…? No, no that couldn’t be true. It would be impertinent to assume such a thing.”

Someone came up to approach him once he had left his grandmother’s side, sitting off in the back to observe the rest of the service. He recognized her as their neighbor, an older woman with a somber look on her face, ingrained with a sense of pity that Alhaitham found himself getting familiar with as of late.

“I’m deeply sorry with your loss, Alhaitham,” She had said, every other word she spoke getting tuned out by the blaring white noise reverberating itself around in his head. It was quite loud and bothersome, and something he never quite could shake it out of his mind, “I had known your grandmother since we were both scholars in the Akademiya and-”

Many found white noise to be soothing, but at that moment all he could hear was a harsh, static-like buzz that cut through the words of the woman in front of him. Staring back at her with unmoved teal and amber eyes, he found the noise to be like an abrasive whisper, persistent and utterly disrupting.

“-to imagine that she could have left her grandson at a time when he is still so young. Truly, my heart goes out to you, and may the Greater Lord gaze upon her-”

He didn’t hate the hissing wash of sound coating his head, but it certainly made it hard to focus. Grandmother had always kept some Radiant Spincrystals; she said that they were imbued with Adeptal energy from Liyue. When they had listened to them together, the crystals always had such an enchanting melody.

“-If there is anything you ever need, please feel free to reach out to me. I’m sure that this has been an incredibly difficult time for you, and you should not have to go through it alone-”

It would be rather nice if he were able to listen to them right now, he thinks that could help. There wasn’t much he found himself wanting for at the moment, but listening to music would be an exception. He wasn’t particularly picky about what kind, any would be preferable to the long-winded drawl that others tended to indulge in.

“-Alhaitham?”

After this, he’ll make a music player. Grandmother was from the Kshahrewar darshan, so she had specialized in technology and engineering. She had taught him some basic skills that could be of use. For anything else, he would just look it up in their library. Yes, that will be what he does when he gets home. He will make a music player.

“Alhaitham, are you listening to me?”

His grandmother kept the smaller tools in the study, they were always in the rightmost drawer of her work desk. That was good. The desk had been collecting dust as of late since she had been too weak to sit down in her study for long periods of time like she had used to. He’ll make a music player when he gets home using Grandmother’s tools.

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

Maybe he will even make some headphones to go with his music player so that it could be used in public. Of course, if he did so, then he would need to make it smaller to be portable. If he could engineer a way to make the headphones block outside sound, that would be even better. When he’s done, he could show it to Grandmother.

“Do you need a moment alone? I just asked you a question, but if this isn’t a good time, I can ask again later-”

He misses Grandmother.

“Alhaitham-”

“Pardon me, were you saying something?” he interrupted, his gaze that was once staring off into nothing flicking back up to make eye contact with his neighbor. The woman was partially startled by his sudden shift in nature. His face staying a placid monotone, a frown tugged at Alhaitham’s lips as the woman looked saddened in his stead. Her unwarranted sympathy came off as rather histrionic to him.

“Could you repeat yourself?”

“I was simply asking if you have a guardian taking care of you at home. Your grandmother had told me a long time ago that she was your last living relative. Is there someone picking you up after this?” The woman asked, her tone unnervingly infantilizing as she spoke.

There was no one.

He didn’t have any immediate or extended family to ask for help from and even if he did, Alhaitham would have preferred not to have another guardian regardless. There was no need for one; he was more than capable of aiding himself without assistance. Other adults weren’t as mature as they prided themselves to be, blinded by arrogance and hostility. He refused to overburden himself with their egotism.

But Alhaitham had read more than enough studies about the many flaws and blemishes of the adoption system in Sumeru City. In the Nation of Wisdom, with so many conundrums and theories constantly being pondered upon, it was one of the Akademiya’s faults that had yet to be reworked. In other words, saying that there was no one waiting for him at home was an area of uncertainty that was practically suicide to mistakenly fall into.

Looking back at the woman, her eyes full of expectancy for his response, he opened his mouth, steeling it with an assured air to be as convincing as possible, “Grandmother assigned one of her closest friends to be my guardian until I get accepted and can stay in the Akademiya. She is coming in from Port Ormos, but will be here by tonight.”

The woman simply nodded, accepting his answer rather easily and not questioning him any further. For the first time in a long while, he had an insidious thought: that the people around him were no less than idiots, and yet this time his grandmother wasn’t there to convince him any different.

Alhaitham didn’t need anyone to take care of him, regardless of age. No one would be able to understand him as well as he does anyway. He has figured things out on his own before, he always has. Relying on himself is the only way to ensure his life goes exactly the way he has planned it out to be, and any interference would be an unnecessary hassle.

Once the burial ended and the crowd dispersed, he was left all by himself again. Just him and his grandmother's grave, marked by a modest headstone with her name, dates, and a simple prayer asking for the Archons' mercy on the deceased. There were no excessive monuments or decorations. Nothing hinted at or gave details about the woman she once was—just a hole in the ground and the various research papers through which her name would continue to live on.

He stood there for the longest while, carving every single detail into memory. It was a bright day outside and Grandmother’s gravestone had a radiant glint against the sunlight that shone from overhead. Everyone who had gone home would forget who and what happened on such a mundane day like this, but not him. Alhaitham would remember the way sprouting leaves shook in the cool afternoon air, the dusk bird perched on the tree six paces away from her grave, and how many steps it took to walk home alone. Six hundred and seventy-two.

Coming home to an empty house, all dressed in black, he blended in with the dark living room he entered, no one home to turn the lights on for him. When he had notified Bismartan of Grandmother’s death, a specialized removal team had come in to cleanse the place and take away her body, so most of the furniture in the living room had been disposed of.

Even so, he had specifically requested that they not get rid of Grandmother’s rocking chair, with the stubbornness befitting a child. Despite the vacancy of the room around him, it was still there, idle and weightless without her to occupy it. Looking at the bare sight made him sick, memories quickly undug like loose grains of sand to reveal nothing but a sinkhole of unreasonable and incoherent feelings unbefitting of a scholar.

Shutting the door behind him, he blocked out the afternoon light that had flowed in from the opening, leaving Alhaitham in the dark. Expression indifferent and face dry from a lack of tears, he was brought back again to the funeral and the passing whispers of others.

“Poor child, but don’t you also think that it’s a bit odd that he doesn’t look sad? It’s one thing not to cry, but he looks quite apathetic.”

Alhaitham doesn’t cry, but he screams.

It’s completely maudlin and unbecoming, but holding it in felt like acid burning him from the inside out. He shouldn’t dwell on it, he knows with ardent logicality that no matter what he does, nothing he could do in this life would make Grandmother come back and hold him again. He knows from the absolute depths of his being that it’s a wasted effort and yet he continues anyway because there is no one to stop him.

He is alone and it’s up to him to drag himself out from his own wretchedness, because he knows very well that there wouldn’t be anyone coming to save him. Alhaitham is mature. He could handle being on his own just fine, but with the emotionality of a child, for a moment he wished to have something to cling onto other than his own being.

Dragging himself up, there weren’t any tears for him to wipe away, just a burning bitterness that lingered in his chest he wished to cleanse himself of.

Grandmother usually made dinner around eight, but she wasn’t here anymore, so he looked in the kitchen to make something for himself. Making something from memory, his hand slipped while he was cutting up ingredients, and Alhaitham was left with a small gash on his palm. Staring at it for a minute with a blank look, that same sense of acerbity welled up within him, overlaid with the sound of the pan to his side heated and sizzling with oil.

He looks at it and says nothing because there is no one to tell that he got hurt, calmly looking in the cupboard for the bandages and disinfectant that Grandmother always used whenever he was injured. After falling out of the tree in the backyard for the hundredth time, she would scold him gently before wrapping up his cuts and bruises. Pausing at the thought while fixing himself, there is a slight sting of chlorhexidine on his palm paired with a similar feeling in his chest.

After finishing cooking, he sets a single plate on the table before silently eating alone. Making a mental note to look for Grandmother’s Spincrystals on another day to fill the silence, it wasn’t very long before he finished. Excusing himself to no one, there is no need for Alhaitham to go back to her room to check up on her and tell her goodnight, but he lingers regardless. Staring at the grain of her bedroom door, he doesn’t dare open it, instead searching for something within the unexceptional view to bring her back to him for just a moment. Alhaitham goes to bed.

Time doesn’t simply stop for the worldly sorrows of the people living within it. The days tick by since her funeral, the wound on Alhaitham’s palm heals, the grass outside in the backyard becomes overgrown, and layers of dust begin to coat the rooms in the house that he doesn’t touch. Her work study, her bedroom, and the rocking chair out in the living room all stay static just as she had left them.

Applying for the Akademiya last week, he was confident that he would pass the Haravatat entrance exam that was scheduled in the coming days. Once he gets accepted, he would be able to live on-site in the dorms, but until then he was alone in his grandmother’s house.

Alhaitham never said anything when he was home, the only thing keeping him company being the odd white noise that reverberated in his head and the occasional creaks of the house settling around him. Whenever he went to the market to buy groceries, he would have to make up some cursory lie about a guardian taking care of him to the aunties, but once he left, then he was simply on his own again.

Hungry. He’s hungry right now. The books he had read to keep himself busy were littered around his bedroom and the hallways, untidy with no one to chide him and tell him to clean them up. He’s hungry, and the food in the pantry had most likely have started to rot by now from neglect, he needs to go and clean it up before buying new groceries.

He needs to leave his bedroom, but he can’t. If he leaves, then Grandmother will see him. Sitting in her rocking chair facing the window to the backyard, her body is frozen in an unearthly pose, muscles and joints locked in the unyielding grip of rigor mortis. Her skin is waxy and pale, a result of blood pooling in the lower portions of her body. Despite the rigidity, he imagines her slowly turning her gaze to him, eyes sunken and discolored from tache noire.

She will ask why he just stood there when he had found her, frozen in the middle of the living room for what felt like hours, and he won’t have the heart to tell her that he knew the moment he went to call for help, they’d take her away from him.

Words will get caught up in his throat full of burdening sentimentality, he will say none of it. He won’t tell her how he had lied to everyone, telling them that he had a guardian taking care of him at home. He won’t tell her how he hadn’t been eating properly as of late, too afraid to go into the kitchen and accidentally glimpse upon the living room he had been trying to avoid. He won’t tell her how much he misses her and that perhaps he wasn’t as mature as he originally thought he was.

Because dead people cannot hear nor speak, and she certainly wouldn’t have been able to respond to his plea for help.

Alhaitham is hungry. He needs to clean out the pantry, cut the backyard grass, and sweep Grandmother’s room that was full of dust before he leaves for the Akademiya, but he won’t do it today. Today he will sit idly in his dim room, staring up at the ceiling and wishing for his Grandmother.

Alhaitham is hungry and he needs help, but he will solve this on his own, because if he can’t, then no one else could either.

⟡

It had been years since then, Alhaitham had been immediately accepted into Harvatat with high scores and took classes not only within his darshan, but also others at the advice of his late grandmother. He kept a low profile, keeping to himself with a clear mind and always making proper decisions for himself.

He had graduated from the Akademiya, moving into the research center that was originally given to him from the Akademiya for him and Kaveh. After the other had forfeited his rights to the property, he turned it into a proper house. About to bring his things out from his childhood home, once he arrived at the doorstep, he stood there for a long while, opening it while keeping his gaze to the floor at familiar wood grained panels.

Moving his books and journals into his new living space, despite cleaning the entire house out, Alhaitham couldn't sell it. Sitting on the floor of the living room, head in between his knees, he couldn’t bring himself to touch Grandmother’s rocking chair by the window. The music player and headphones that he planned on making all those years back reverberating in his ears, it isn’t a good enough distraction from the white noise plaguing his thoughts.

Strong notes and calming melodies interweave with his thoughts to form a cacophony, Alhaitham sits in his empty childhood home for a long time. One day he will sell it, one day he will be able to move her chair out of the house without feeling a nauseating rush of illogical emotions reach him, but until then, the keys will sit in his pocket, laid right next to the ones belonging to his new living space.

Many years have passed since he was a child living alone in his grandmother’s house and doing so had only ingrained the belief that relying on himself was the reliable path to success.

Putting down his drink, he turned to look up at the traveler and Paimon, both unamused at what he’s sure was a rather Alhaitham-esque response to Lumine’s question. She let out a fond sigh, putting her head into her hand, resting against the table.

Head cocking in a questioning way, Lumine spoke, “That definitely sounds like a you kind of answer, but isn’t it a bit unrealistic? Or are you trying to say that only those with similar brilliance to you would be able to learn how to swim in such conditions?”

“There is no criteria needed, it’s all a simple matter if one takes action or doesn’t,” Alhaitham responded, ignoring the way such inconsiderate, caustic words tasted in his mouth, “By categorizing people through defined borders and limits, one blinds themselves to the true nature of what they were once given. In pondering one’s own, as you have put it, ‘brilliance,’ according to the standards set by the judgement of others, they fail to realize where they rightfully stand.”

Paimon groaned at his language, clearly having lost the plot of his verbose yet enigmatic lecture. Tiny hands put on her head, she shook it as if trying to rid herself from a sudden onset headache, “Paimon knows the Akasha system has been shut down, but having an Alhaitham-speak translator at a time like this would be helpful…”

He huffed, the traveler in front of him scolding her companion and yet from her body language, she likely didn’t have a single clue of what he meant either, “Whether one sink or swims, it all comes down to practical skills and decisions, they aren’t necessarily brilliant for doing so, it’s simply a functional result.”

Mind trailing back over to that roommate of his who had brought such a hypothetical up in the first place, Alhaitham’s chest stirred with something. Their views had always conflicted, and this one was no different, “Life is inherently challenging, it is each person’s duty to anticipate and navigate such obstacles. Through a lack of preparedness and decisions consciously and unconsciously made, they are only a victim of themselves. Those who interfere and jump into such waters to aid another are no different, no matter how strong of a swimmer one is, they will always get swept under the waves by others desperately clinging on.”

“How pragmatic,” Lumine nodded, seeming to understand his viewpoint a little better. It was never a matter of trying to persuade the traveler to agree with him, after all one should form their own opinions regardless, but giving her a wider perspective would be innocuous, “So you’re saying that extending help would be meddling with natural consequences?”

“You’re gaining a proper grasp of it now.”

“But what if such a situation was out of their own hands? Sometimes that’s the way life works, isn’t it? Even if one learns to swim, they will inevitably drown if they have a ball and chain strapped to their ankles weighing them down.”

He went silent for a moment to ponder her question yet again, it was a logical one and he had an answer lingering in his mind, but like many things Alhaitham had said before, it was rather unpalatable, “Either one learns to remove it, or they drown. Life has never cared about fairness, it only rewards those who manage to stay afloat no matter the burden.”

“And if that were you?”

“…I’m sure you are able to come to a conclusion yourself, traveler.”

⟡

“Grandmother?” Alhaitham had asked one day, the two sitting outside in the backyard. Like most days in Sumeru City, there was a comfortable warm air that surrounded them, a cool breeze passing through that made the trees sway with it. Even so, he wasn’t feeling well and an odd sensation welled up within him, “My chest hurts.”

He would never forget the way her eyes widened, despite becoming ever the more calmer with age, she looked back at him with a strange urgency. Eyes dire, she abruptly leaned over to grab his shoulders, slightly pulling him towards her.

“You haven’t been coughing blood recently, have you?” Grandmother asked him in a quick manner, it left him lacking a proper answer to respond, too caught up in her quick change in nature. She continued, tone awfully fearsome, “Any chest pain? Fever? Have you been tired? How is your appetite?”

There was a long weighted moment as he didn’t come up with anything to say, all too taken aback. As he shook his head, Grandmother regained herself, letting out a sigh of relief, she seemed to have noticed her overreaction. Putting a hand on her chest, his grandmother looked back at him with tired eyes, always soft and fond, a noticeable feeling of worry clung to the surface.

“Ah, it seems I was overreacting,” She laughed, voice getting swept up by a zephyr, greyed hair flowing with the wind and the leaves. Alhaitham’s surprisal faded as well, but he couldn’t help but cock his head questioningly, “If you are ever feeling unwell with any of those symptoms, don’t hesitate to tell Grandmother, okay?”

He had nodded at the time, assured. Wanting to ask why exactly she had reacted as she did, for once he held his tongue. Grandmother had looked sad at the moment, her outburst having stirred up some lamentable emotions within her. Alhaitham would ask her another day.

After a rather convulsive coughing fit, there was an unshakable fluttering in his chest that Alhaitham couldn’t quite get rid of lately. Blankly looking into his palm having felt something spit up from his throat, his fingertips grazed a thin and translucent red petal. Like silk in his hands, he couldn’t tell if its crimson colour was from the petal itself or dyed the droplets of viscous blood that coated its surface.

Alhaitham wasn’t familiar with botany all too well, but he vividly remembered each delicate ridge and groove of the mourning flowers at his grandmother’s funeral. He stared down at his palm for a long while with no thoughts running through his mind, entranced by its mellow gleam against the afternoon Sumerian sun.

That… certainly wasn’t normal.

Starting with a light tingling in his chest, it had slowly progressed into a tighter, more constrictive sensation. Followed by an irremediable cough that never quite went away, he never felt his condition was enough reason to go to the doctor, but it did raise a fair bit of concern. It had been a month or two since it had started and yet it wasn’t until now that he had started hacking up actual flower petals.

Another cough coming out of his lungs, he bursted into another fit, the fragile petal in his hand getting crushed as he closed around it to cover his mouth. It wasn’t to much remorse as he felt that familiar feeling of something soft and film-like climbing out of his throat. He spit it out, finding a handful of those dainty petals littering the ground beneath him.

Staying at the Akademiya instead of going home after his working hours, he searched the House of Daena for Vahumana books and research articles. None of them quite fit his precondition and while there were many drawbacks to using the now defunct Akasha system, it would certainly have been helpful at a time like this.

Quickly skimming through another book detailing unusual maladies related to cursed elemental energy, Alhaitham let out a long sigh at yet another dead end. Hand coming up to his forehead, along with his other symptoms, it seemed as if he was starting to develop a migraine.

He should go home, it wasn’t ideal to be leaving empty handed after searching for so long, but with the way he was right now, it would do no good to continue looking for answers in his state. Alhaitham considered stopping by Bismartan on his way back, if he questioned them about sicknesses relating to coughing up flowers, they would likely question his sanity, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask for some cough medicine.

“Alhaitham?” A familiar voice sounded from behind him, causing the man to turn around. Met face to face with honey green eyes and Valuka Shuna features, his eyes minutely widened in recognition as Tighnari looked back at him with a questioning gaze, “Sorry, I know we aren’t close and all, but I couldn’t help but notice the rather big pile of Vahumana books you’ve got there. Is everything alright?”

He moved his hand to the side, covering up the rather revealing title of the current paper he was reading, but Alhaitham had a feeling that Tighnari had seen it already. Responding rather calmly despite himself, he decided that if there was ever a time to ask some questions, it would be around now, “Do you happen to know anything about coughing up flowers?”

“…Pardon? Do you mean like, petals of flowers?”

“Yes, actually,” Alhaitham replied, lifting a brow at the other man’s rather precise answer to a question that sounded undoubtedly insane. Tighnari’s face turned rather conflicted in that moment, a mix between incredulity and vexation, “Is there something wrong, Tighnari?”

The man looked back at that same enigmatic look, seeming to ponder on something and then without warning, he spoke in a rather convinced, dire tone, “I think it’s best you come with me.”

…

His residence back in the Avidya Forest too far, Tighnari pulled some strings to get them a private room in Bismartan, the vague and indistinct way he spoke to the staff asking for an explanation raising a sense of concern within Alhaitham.

Running some tests no different from a basic doctor’s appointment, it wasn’t until he had gotten onto some breathing focused ones did Tighnari start to express his worry. Taking in deep breaths, Alhaitham watched as the other’s brows furrowed, clearly hearing something wrong in his chest. The familiar feeling of something in the back of his throat tingling, he backed up to cover his mouth.

The forest ranger stayed idly nearby as he let out awkward wheezes, gasping for air, it stung to breathe every time he tried to inhale. Alhaitham wasn't confident on how assured he was of the other man to be aiding him, but hearing him mutter a few curses under his breath, it didn’t leave him exactly optimistic.

Laying eyes on another set of crimson mourning flower petals, damp with spit and blood, he slightly cringed at the sight of it, expressionless if not for an onset frown. Tighnari on the other hand, looked unbelievably troubled on his behalf, gloved hand coming over to cover his mouth.

“Alhaitham, I need you to answer me honestly,” Tighnari stated, his voice grave as he looked him dead in the eyes. Nodding in response, he watched as the other let out a deep sigh, sight switching between the metallic puddle of flowers on the ground and him, “How long has this been going on?”

“About two months now, it was just a slight cough and chest pain before, I didn’t start coughing these petals up until three days ago,” He responded, looking back at his own hands, stained pricks of blood lingering on his palms. It sent off a sense of alarm within him, but panicking would lead to nothing, “Now that I have answered you, isn’t it time that you tell me what is happening?”

“For the longest time, scholars in Vahumana have been speaking of this genetic disease related to those with Dendro visions. Some had theorized that it was a mutation of the Withering. People who survived Eleazar are left susceptible to elemental energy with the weakness passed down to their offspring, but there have only been limited cases, so most scholars have dismissed it as nothing but a myth,” Tighnari explained with a heavy breath, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his shoulders incredibly tense and high-strung.

“It’s called Floropulmonis Affectum, there isn’t any cure due to limited research of it, but I do believe I could find a way to slow it down. However, it is a rapidly progressing disease and your life expectancy very likely could be cut short,” He paused, biting his tongue in thought. Pacing around the room, mumbling to himself some remedies to slow down the process, he continued, “It reacts to a Dendro user’s energy and forms as a bloom core in their lungs. As the disease progresses, the bloom core grows into a full flower until it suffocates the affected and I’m afraid with the way yours has advanced, it wouldn’t be long until…”

He trailed off, and Alhaitham just nodded in response. What else was there to say at the moment? He wouldn’t lie, the thought sent blistering strokes of dread through his entire being, but lamenting about his situation wouldn’t help him. Throat closing at the notion of dying, he swallowed whatever burning spirit of vulnerability that threatened to crawl back up his throat with those odd petals.

“I guess I need to get my affairs in order then,” Alhaitham said with an air of finality, voice hoarse from the coughing fit he was subjected to moments before. Standing up, a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea hit him, causing him to minutely stumble, “That palliative treatment you mentioned, just how long would it take to make one?”

“Not too long, I would need to look over some old case studies to double check, but it should just involve modifying an already existing medicine,” Tighnari answered, he looked hesitant while speaking, nervous almost. A clear sense of pity that Alhaitham remembered all too well from those at the funeral of his grandmother, it made him hold in a scoff, “I understand this is quite contradictory to say after what I have told you, but you shouldn’t give up easily. There is still a chance that this could be a completely unrelated disease-”

“When I was younger, my grandmother had asked me some questions if I had symptoms that align to this sort of illness, while I wasn’t a vision holder at the time, she was. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume that she was worried I had picked it up as well,” He interrupted to save the other man’s breath from good-intentioned words of condolence, “If you do happen to find a malady similar to coughing up petals, then do inform me, but until then I have quite a bit of things to sort out.”

“What about Kaveh?”

Alhaitham stopped at the doorway, turning back to Tighnari who stood rather idle, a persistent look on his face. There could have been a million thoughts racing through the other’s mind at the moment and yet he had said none of it, “What about him?”

“Are you going to tell him?” Tighnari asked. Apparently his own face might have slipped with a slight sense of incredulity because the other man’s frown deepened, “You know he cares about you. It’s just a bit of advice of course, but are you going to leave him in the dark about this?”

“Would telling him cure me?” Alhaitham said, lips distorting with a sort of grim expression. His grip on the width door minutely tightening, he felt the sensation ground him before he was swept up in an illogical flood of emotionality that he refused to indulge in, “Doing so would only be too much trouble for what it is worth. I don’t need anyone’s pity or support, and I’m sure that Kaveh doesn’t need another thing to be overly sentimental about.”

Like any other day, Alhaitham walked home. Headphones in his ear, he counted every beat of the melody he was listening to until the white noise that occasionally flooded his senses came back again. Then, he started counting every step he took, anything to distract himself from the clawing weight in his chest that threatened to consume his entire being. Unsure if it was temperamentality or the petals that housed themselves within his chest, nestled within his lungs, whatever the sensation was closed around him like a vine.

Alhaitham doesn’t cry or scream as he walks home, he hadn’t done so in a very long time. The knotted, tense feeling within him that raveled with each step forward was almost torturing to a degree, but he ignored it. There was nothing that he could do or say at this time to fix himself, so he simply continued forward, face bare of any tears despite every emotion rushing through him all at once.

He won’t tell Kaveh, he would hate for one of the only people that didn’t keep him at a distance to turn at him with a look of absolute pity. Alhaitham had made it this far by himself, there was no need to ask for help from anyone else if he deemed it needless. To discern his best path, the only reasonable course of action would be to simply separate himself from such dependency.

Bitterness finally hit beneath the rest of the brimming thoughts that plagued him. It was incredibly unfair, he had always been in control of his own life and to learn that something was abruptly taking that from him sent frustration up his spine. Unreasonable from every facet, that was just the way life was, never discerning people from one another, it was the greatest equalizer and yet that fact he had known so well since he was a child didn’t make him feel any more alleviated.

He’ll look into that disease some more when he gets home, if he distinguishes it as true then Alhaitham will need to work harder in the next coming days. There was the matter of the house, who would replace him as the Scribe and the rest of his final arrangements to ponder on.

Alhaitham wasn’t feeling well, his throat burned, it felt as if spikes were being pushed into his head one by one, and he was so nauseous he would have thrown up right on the side of the busy street if he could. But there wasn’t anything he could currently do about it, so he continued on, separating himself from the bottled up vehemence that wanted out. Counting the steps leading up to his home, he reached the doorstep on seventh hundred and eighty one.

Pausing at the door handle, he felt the cool weight of metal beneath his palms, bringing him back down to present in a quick moment. There was no use in bewailing his situation for now, as far as he knew, he would be waking up tomorrow regardless. Tomorrow he will dwell on it some more, but today he will cram it into the back of his mind, his head was aching, he felt dreadfully sick, and was definitely running a fever, but Alhaitham turned the handle regardless.

Gaze meeting the wood grain of the floor, he turned his it up to see a head of blond hair inspecting a newly hung up painting in the foyer. A look of contemplation on his face, dim candlelight backlit his features and glistened within crimson eyes that were exactly the colour of the mourning flowers Alhaitham had been spitting up.

“Oh, Alhaitham!” Kaveh said, walking over to meet him. The two were similar in heights, he watched the way the other man scrutinized him with attention to detail only befitting of an architect, “You’re incredibly late by the way, what happened? You look like you’ve had a long day.”

His tone was teasing at the edges, but a faint stroke of alarm hit him as Alhaitham moved to put up his coat, steeling shaking hands as he rid himself from his heavy over attire and keys. Turning back to face Kaveh, the other’s head cocked in a questioning look, “You could say that, I was caught up in a meeting with Tighnari and had to do some other things. In the time it took me to get back, I would have hoped you had done the dishes.”

The other man scoffed, rolling his eyes fondly as he walked farther into the house, turning right towards their dining room, “I’ll do them after we eat. Hurry up now, I think the food is getting cold as we speak.”

Alhaitham wasn’t the slightest bit hungry.

“I’m coming.”

⟡

Tighnari had dropped by a week late to deliver some pills in a rather discrete bottle, lowly mumbling some instructions while Kaveh sat on the divan on a few paces away, busied with his work. The other man gave him that same look from a few days ago when he had urged him to tell his rather dramatic roommate about it and yet Alhaitham kept his stance, not feeling swayed to do so. It held more inconvenience than benefit for both of them.

As the days passed by, his condition did not get better, taking a rather speedy decline. His occasional migraines had become persistent, he was waking up in the middle of the night feeling as if he was suffocating, and that tightened feeling that engulfed his chest never loosened its hold.

He had stopped going out as much and using his vision as Tighnari advised that doing so might speed up the process, but a restless feeling took over as he was left alone in his study, something that he once found comfort in tainted by a looming air of dread. Alhaitham had been through worse before, there was no need or want within him to even speak of his confliction, but every time he let out a cough and felt that familiar gauzy sensation of a petal crawling out of his throat, it was impossible to turn a blind eye to.

Ever observant, it didn’t take long for Kaveh to realize something was up. They had always gone out to eat together before, but as of late Alhaitham didn’t eat at all even when alone, his condition taking away any urge to. Reading in the living room, he would find the other man scrutinizing his appearance heavily before making a comment about how pale he had become recently, how tired looked, how he should go to Birmartan and ask for a remedy for that relentless cough of his.

Occasionally going to Tighnari for check-ups and to experience a faint sense of comfortless displeasure as the other’s face always became rather grim by the end of their meetings, it was quite clear that his illness wouldn’t be going away anytime soon and even clearer that his future life expectancy wasn’t looking the brightest.

Giving him a paper from an old study regarding Floropulmonis Affectum, it displayed a diagram of the different stages of the disease. From a few simple bloom cores sprouting in the alveoli, they would grow and expand rapidly with the aid of Dendro energy, doubling and tripling in size. With verdant green vines and tender budding flowers, the roots would wrap around his bronchi until they completely blocked central parts of his airway, Alhaitham notes in the back of his mind that by then, he would truly be drowning.

The forest ranger pointing at the lower end of the diagram with a dire look, it seemed that he was around the point where the flowers inside his lungs were beginning to come into full bloom. The worn paper had used padisarahs in the diagram, the aqua and turquoise hues faded with time, Alhaitham couldn’t help but remember the own flower that settled in his lungs.

Mourning flowers, a vibrant crimson that undeniably reminded him of the colour of Kaveh’s eyes. Just like glimmering rubies, just like those hair clips that he used to tie back and adorn his hair, just like that cape of his that swayed in the afternoon wind while they walked to Lambad’s Tavern after a long day of work, and just like his complexion whenever Alhaitham gave a sarcastic, playful tease.

He will leave the house to Kaveh, it was partially his in the first place anyway.

Back when they were younger and when Alhaitham was blinded by his own notions of maturity that weren’t quite developed like he had originally thought they were, he would always remember meeting Kaveh. He would remember how even while they used to be something akin to friends a bitter feeling would linger in the back of his mind whenever the other spoke. They were similar with no familial attachments, but how the other had spoken of his ideals, his philosophy, he realized that they couldn’t be more different.

It was almost frustrating how he did so in that youthful tone of his, there was no denying that Kaveh had been through hardships similar to his own and yet Alhaitham at the time couldn’t begin to conceive how the other had kept his mindset despite everything. To be an idealist and so needlessly trusting, he had voiced many times how such thoughts would only lead him to ruin and yet Kaveh would always just smile and laugh back.

Not until later in life would what he had advised as a child unfortunately come to fruition. Meeting Kaveh in the tavern all those nights ago, the other looking well-worn and haggard, he spoke of his troubles and how despite everything, parting with his own stubborn philosophy was the last string he couldn’t let go of. It was then Alhaitham realized with painful emotionality he had spent so long to rid himself of, that he wished to have been wrong. The truth was multifaceted after all, when it comes to mirrored geniuses like him and Kaveh, only when they were together could the full range of human vision and its faults be discovered.

Childish scorn had melted into familiarity and even what he would call fondness, but it was for that reason alone that he could never speak of his malady to the other man. Alhaitham would remember how he felt at his grandmother’s funeral for the rest of his life and subjecting Kaveh to that arduous feeling he’s sure the other man was familiar with as well, it wouldn’t be right nor logical.

Even if he told him, there was no way that he could rely on him regardless, managing himself on his own was what he did best. To follow his ideal path, Alhaitham had to take rein of all aspects in his life and while the illness plaguing him had stolen one of the most vital parts of it, he still kept close what he could control.

“Alhaitham? What are you doing?” Kaveh asked, coming into his study to find a sizable amount of papers that Alhaitham had been sorting through. The deed to the house, a paper detailing his will and beneficiaries, documents for closing his bank account and transferring the remainder of his mora elsewhere, the rest of his life was laid out on the table in front of him.

“Sorting through some old documents,” He replied with mild disinterest, holding a paper about transferring ownership of the house to Kaveh. Already half signed, he forced Tighnari be a witness to him putting his name on the paper, but Alhaitham had a feeling that Kaveh would immediately refuse if he just handed the document to him and asked for his signature, “I have to rearrange these.”

“You’re actually cleaning up for yourself for once?” The other man questioned with a sense of incredulity, it was frankly deserved, Alhaitham had never shook himself of the bad habit of leaving his books on every surface possible. Coming up and grabbing a paper from the stack before he could stop him, “That’s bullshit-”

Kaveh’s eyes went wide as he quickly read over its contents, Alhaitham realizing a moment too late the paper he had let the other grab was his will, the other man’s tone turned unsteady,“…Alhaitham? What is this?”

He stayed silent, face a placid monotone as he stared at the document in Kaveh’s hands before back at the blond, the other man’s expression becoming awfully frightful by the minute. This is, among other reasons, why he didn’t tell him things, “There is no better time than the present to be making a will just as a precaution. If you haven’t noticed, I am starting to come around the age when both my parents passed away. Dying young isn’t exactly an inconceivable thing to happen, Kaveh.”

“People don’t make their will on an offhand weekday afternoon,” Kaveh responded, he seemed to be getting increasingly stressed on his own behalf and Alhaitham had a feeling that it wasn’t just due to him finding that paper, “Something has been up with you for a long while. You haven’t looked well in a while and I would say it seems as if you’ve only gotten worse, you've been drinking so much more than you usually have, do you think I haven’t noticed Tighnari coming by the house more often to give you Archon knows’ what? Why am I listed as the only beneficiary on your will-?”

“If you happen to know anyone else who would be a viable candidate then do please inform me,” He said in a rather deadpan tone, consciously choosing to ignore the rest of what the other man had said, he got up from his desk to go over to Kaveh, aiming to avoid the rest of the conversation by kicking him out of his office, “I might need another drink given the accusations you’re suddenly handing out. There is nothing wrong with me, Kaveh. Perhaps you should have just inquired sooner than to come to the wrong conclusion-”

Steeling himself from the sudden dizziness and nausea that came with standing up most days, Alhaitham abruptly cut himself off, feeling his chest constrict with a painful tightness. Stopping to subtly grip around the edge of his desk for balance, he heard Kaveh coming over to him, seeing double of the man as his vision hazed in and out.

“See-?! This is what I mean! You don’t look okay, Alhaitham. You really don’t. I really am concerned and with the way you’ve been sneaking around it seems you haven’t been getting the proper treatments necessary.”

A familiar pressure hit his trachea in the form of budding flowers, that he was powerless to stop, that combined with the other man’s panicked words that while good intentioned, reverberated in his brain unpleasantly when combined with his headache. Aiming to push the man out of the room, Kaveh was unfortunately stubborn and stood his ground,“I don’t want to have this conversation right now, Kaveh. Can you do this another time instead?”

“No,” The other responded, shaking his head, his expression had been worsening but now it seemed as if he was about to shed tears on his behalf, a gesture that Alhaitham would hardly appreciate at the moment, “You always do this! Throwing yourself into dangerous situations, I always find out after it's over and I’ve tried not to say anything about it until now, but I seriously can’t stress enough about how unbelievably nervous it makes me. You could have died Alhaitham, and I feel powerless when you just don’t say a word and keep everyone in the dark-”

“Powerless?” Alhaitham repeated, his voice coated with that same childish bitterness that always managed to creep up on him, “You are the one feeling powerless right now?”

“You know that’s not what I mean-”

“No, I truly don’t, Kaveh. You’ve spent this entire time talking about yourself, how this makes you feel, how you’re worried about me, but shouldn’t you take into consideration why I might have done so?” He said, tone firmer with exasperation and anger that Alhaitham knew deep inside wasn’t meant to be directed at Kaveh, but was simply an outlet for every little feeling that he refused to show until now.

“I have spent the last ten years in control of my own life and to abruptly have it taken away by some disease I had no chance in preventing, how the hell do you think I would feel right now? Knowing what has been wrong with me wouldn’t have made anything better, we both know that you can’t just cure me. By not telling you anything about it, I was sparing myself your concern because I truly don’t need it right now. If anything, it would have made me happy to spend my last days just coming home and eating dinner with you each night.”

“It wouldn’t have made me happy,” Kaveh replied slowly, his fists finding purchase in the fabric of Alhaitham’s clothes until it wrinkled the material from how tightly he was holding on. Looking towards the floor rather than him, “Despite everything that has happened between us, I want you to know that I really do care, regardless if you want me to or not. Even if I had never found out, I would still have spent every living second of my life concerned about you because just the thought of you dying makes me feel unbelievably hopeless. I want to be by your side, I want you to trust me-”

“I do trust you Kaveh,” Alhaitham interrupted, his brows furrowed in disarray at the other’s response. His comment only made him shake his head rather fervently.

“Not enough to tell me that you’re dying apparently. How the hell did you expect me to find out? Looking into your room one day and seeing you dead there? Really Alhaitham, for every bit illogical you believe I am, you fail to look back at yourself and realize the absurdity within your own actions. Please, just don’t leave me in the dark.”

A moment full of the same vulnerability that Alhaitham had always detested, both stayed idle in their frozen positions. Such emotional weakness was unbecoming of and blinding of a true scholar’s mindset, but the minutes ticked by, he found that the emotion he felt right now wasn’t frustration at the other’s stubbornness, but confliction.

He trusted Kaveh. He trusted Kaveh enough to open his house to him, to buy groceries together, to go to the parties he always dragged Alhaitham to, to go to Lambad’s after a long and tiring day at work, he trusted him enough that he would have gladly handed his house and all possessions over to him, but to lean on him for help was something Alhaitham was firmly against. After years of being on his own, there were just some obstinate habits he would never break, and the firm belief that he could control everything himself without the need of another was something that he was willing to die with.

“I believe it’s best for you to go.”

That was the last day that Alhaitham had coughed up simple petals, every hacking cough after containing whole blossoms. Mourning flowers in full bloom, they expelled from his lungs with fervidity, crimson in colour and blended together with pricked droplets of blood that left his cut up throat along with them. Paper thin red petals unfurled, they were delicate against his fingertips, every single one reminding him of Kaveh.

⟡

Even with every last stubborn bit of persistence that Alhaitham had, he knew better than anyone that the hold he had on his own life was starting to slip from him. Accepting that he wouldn’t be getting better from here, then he decided to take control of the one thing that his illness didn’t have yet: the ability to decide when he died.

It could have been any day then, but he figured that he might as well take the opportunity while he still had the luxury to decide. All of his documents and personal records had been sorted and labeled for whoever chose to go through them and he had made sure to donate a good half of his belongings to the House of Daena and other organizations.

Drowning was never a good option, especially in the rivers of Sumeru where he would undoubtedly be found. Dying at home certainly wouldn’t be any better since Kaveh lived with him, so any methods like overdosing, carbon monoxide poisoning, and hanging were out of the question unless he conducted them outside of the house. Preferably, he would like his death to be as painless as possible, but any other options that didn’t involve him suffocating from the flowers growing in his lungs sounded as good as any.

He and Kaveh hadn’t spoken since that day, awkwardly lingering around each other in the house but expressing no words. On his last check-up, Tighnari had given him the same lecture about the other man but his decision to deal with this on his own was one that would be unchanging. Taking Kaveh into account of his plans, he made sure that any method he used would be as far from him as possible, after all, his body being discovered was likely his biggest concern out.

Alhaitham would have liked to die of old age in his sleep, it aligned perfectly with the peaceful life he had set out for himself after all, but he seemed to be reminded time and time again that life simply wasn’t fair like that.

There were some rather high cliffs in Sumeru, traveling to Liyue could have possibly been better, but the Adepti would not take kindly to him using it as a spot to kill himself in the most discreet of ways possible. He debated some places, some were too close to the Avidya Forest, some were near popular travel walkways that risked travelers coming into Sumeru from discovering him. Landing on the outskirts of the desert, near an area that was devoid of Eremites and travelers alike due to its barren conditions, he figured that was where it was best to set off.

Not leaving any sort of note for Kaveh to find, he did so with an illogically heavy heart. When it came to the bare emotionality of most things, even if Alhaitham had sat himself down to write every thought he had pertaining to the man, simply touching that area of vulnerability would leave him inarticulate enough to not have a single word written.

It was unideal to disappear like this, Kaveh getting false hope that he was still alive was not an idea he was privy to, but telling him how he felt may have been a fate worse than death. He settled for leaving a document transferring the deed of their house over to him on the kitchen counter, already half-signed and waiting for the other man to confirm the exchange. Hopefully, that would have been enough of a clue.

Going to work as usual that day, he had handed in his notice two weeks ago, so it would be his last time showing up to work regardless. Some colleagues giving him well-wishes and idle conversations full of nothingness, he accepted them in stride, after all it would be the last time he would be doing so. Leaving sharply at the end of his work day, Alhaitham took a moment to admire the sight of Sumeru City.

Kaveh had always done it before, slowing down their trips to Puspa Cafe as he watched the sunset. He had always urged the other man to hurry up, that the sky would always be there tomorrow as it had been every day beforehand, but if he knew that he wouldn’t be around to observe sunsets with Kaveh for much longer, perhaps he would have paid a little more attention to them. The saccharine taste of flowers crawling back up his mouth as he admired the sky, leaned against the railing, he figured that it was time to go, coughing out a few blossoms dampened with bloom to the side.

Illness taking away the stamina and strength he once had, it took Alhaitham far longer than he thought he would to reach the desert, hovering right on the border of verdant trees and grasses with glittering sand beneath the cliff waiting for him. Despite how long it had taken, the sun had yet to finally set into night, as if waiting for him to make a decision.

Sitting right on the edge of the cliff, he would have to go down head-first to assure he was knocked out on impact. The distance between him and the ground was surely going to kill him regardless, but doing so in the least painful way possible would be optimal. One leg bent and resting on grassy cliffs, the other hung off of the precipice as he observed his surroundings for the last time.

It was odd, to say the least. Getting caught up within himself the past few weeks, he never really had the chance to listen to the leaves rustle and wind passively whisper as he once did with Grandmother. Taking off his headphones, the white noise that plagued him most days wasn’t present, only the faint sound of birds chirping in the distance and grass soughing beneath his weight.

While he had gotten rid of a fair amount of his personal library, there were just some books he couldn’t part with, one of them being a book that his grandmother had always carried. Alhaitham had never opened it before, too thick to carry around and precious nonetheless that it felt wrong to be holding it at a moment like this.

Fingertips trailing over its ornate emerald cover, he put in an effort to not accidentally sully the pages while coughing, blood flying out with his hacking wheezes more often than not.

In a great, heavy moment of uncertainty, Alhaitham had assumed that such a book was simply one related to engineering and technology with the margins marked up with notes as most scholars did. Grounding himself within the flip of the pages, he opened it to the cover title, and yet was immediately distracted, not by its content, but by his Grandmother’s familiar handwriting to the side.

May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life.

…

For the first time in a very long while, Alhaitham laughs. It sounded grating and disjointed, a heavy feeling of bitterness and self-deprecation leaking from every syllable, but it was a laugh nonetheless. Beneath the air weighed down by his own despondency and the utter irony of finding a note from his grandmother at a time like this, one might have been able to strain through it all and find the newly-blossoming desire within him to live

Having been so swept up in his own affairs for as long as he could remember, during that time, perhaps he should have taken a step back and examined his own ideology. Knowledge should be recognized, pursued, and trusted, but it should just as well be questioned. Recognizing his own choices and decisions as an absolute truth, as something that would lead him to the best path, he had completely lost the meaning of why he did so in the first place.

Grandmother had wanted his life to be peaceful, and yet just as he was about to kill himself did Alhaitham realize that his course of action caused his life to be anything but.

He thought about the sunsets, the rustling of the leaves and the wind’s gentle howl, he thought about late night walks along the empty streets of Sumeru City, relaxing with music while reading over intriguing books and case studies on a sunny day.

He thought about Kaveh, waking up in the morning to eat breakfast with him, the two’s teasing but lighthearted banter, dragging him back home from the tavern after a night of drinking while the other spewed nonsense every step of the way, he thought about quiet evenings spent reading together on the divan, not saying a word but simply enjoying the comfortable silence. He thought about every single word of confession he had been wanting to tell Kaveh, to reaffirm just how much the other meant to him as he did himself, to talk about how content he would be spending every moment he had left to live with the other, to say just how much he truly does trust and cherish him.

He thought about every single bit of peace he had mistakenly disregarded in his path to live in everlasting repose and realized just how wrong his perspective had been.

He thought about many things in those few moments that the sunset had finally given way into night, accepting his choice swifter than it took Alhaitham to realize he had made one.

Alhaitham would die, it was an unfair fact of life that he had acknowledged for a very long time. He would die, but as long as it was in his control, he wouldn’t be dying today. Today, he will bask in the sudden epiphany regarding the true peace that his life currently held, too blinded by his own ideals to realize it.

Standing up, both of his feet planted on solid ground as he dusted his hands off, calmly making his way back home in the dark of night. This realization would neither slow down nor stop his illness, but it was a realization nonetheless. One that lent him hope and fervid emotionality that he didn’t allow himself to feel fully up until then. Trudging back home in the night, Alhaitham idly thought, about himself, about his ideals and philosophy, about Grandmother, about mourning flowers, but most importantly, about what he was going to do tomorrow and the day after in peace.

He thought about picking up food from Lambad’s Tavern on his way home for him and Kaveh to share.