the architect
Kaveh just cares too much
In the land of knowledge and reason it's almost natural to be lost to the system of scholars being churned up left and right, one revolutionary genius to the other, it'd be a crime not to take this opportunity and sharpen in like the figures who had done so in the past.
That's why in such a fast-paced and competitive environment, one cannot afford to lose more than needed be, lest someone else take your spot. But he seems to lose something at every moment; time, money, his will to live. Kaveh's heart is too soft for such a cutthroat world. Always too busy with something else to notice the world falling apart, one moment he's working on a large scale project with his mentor and other colleagues, the next, the akademia has apparently been reconstructed with his roommate becoming the new acting grand sage after banishing the first one.
Kaveh never thought he fit well with the others, an artist in the lumpy mold of an academia scholar. His father was an artist too, but his world seemed more meticulous and shiny than the life he has now. Perhaps it was just the speckled view of a child seeing him work on projects with that sparkle that lit up his whole world, Kaveh is aware now of how temporary that shine is, one moment to the next. He treasures that look his father had now more than ever, now that his shine threatens to dull at every new deadline.
It's not like he loathes his job, he is an artist but he prefers the cleaner way of expressing it, ones with lines and numbers and balance. The pencils and rulers and blueprints, so many blueprints, so much debt.
But he loves his job, in the middle of another sleepless night there's a question that lingers which reminds him of bottles and sand, but he pushes through anyway. Many don't understand, they don't see the lines and the sense that he does, even his own colleagues don't sometimes, and it does sting a little to see how far he's come and still nothing will rise to remember it, but he finds the shine in his father's old papers and he recalls the face he would make when he saw the finished product with his own eyes and tries to wonder if he would do the same with Kaveh's work.
The akademia is rigorous with its students, it gets stuck in his head sometimes, dug itself too deep that he can't carve it out no matter what tool he used. It doesn't help that his roommate was one of those folks, it reminds him of the books and the whispers, the coffee with a side of dreams being cut down. He doesn't like it, he grew up loving his nation but sometimes the sharp edges would hurt even for him. Still, no matter the personal opinion, the land of reason does not favor the unnecessary, arts being one of them. Not good enough, Kaveh always has to put more than necessary to his work, only a few more sketches to get the pillars right, a little more space between the deck and the door.
Despite this though, Kaveh will admit to his weakened will, the akademia has taken much from him both body and soul. He watches those with might and brains trudge forward and succeed, but it seems as though he is not one of those skillful graduates. Kaveh falls and falls and falls, over and over, so much so that he doesn't know how many more times he'll manage to scrape himself off before the day comes where he no longer finds a spark to guide him back up. Everything moves so fast, or maybe he was always just so slow. There are days where he wishes to just sit down, stop the neverending race and watch as all his colleagues pass by, he won't ever be able to catch up anyway. Another tab at the bar, another night spent staring at the city, at the buildings around him, thought up by people of his kind, and he wonders if he will ever find the answers to his question.
Kaveh loves his job, he adores it more than anything, that's the issue though. A slight mistake, a little crumble, a tear in his work. It's all reflected in him, he cares too much. That's where all of his time went, spent staying up and finishing projects because he knew the angles would look oh so magnificent under the Sumeru sky, how the backdrop of the forest could compliment the shape of the roof, how the client would feel more comfortable if he shifted his view enough. A little more adjustments, a little more balance, a little more time. In his experience, it never really pays off in the end but he still does it, scattered blueprints and multiple rulers lost, he never knows why. The itch is something he cannot satiate, so every mistake is something he takes to the heart, those were his suggestions after all, his art, not good enough.
Sometimes he envies though with passions that align with what the akademia desires, sure he's an esteemed graduate of his darshan and praised within his little circle but it doesn't feel all that much when his buildings don't feel like his. The papers and pens have shifted, once a dazzling spark that would make his father laugh with delight now come with time spent and lost, a little more of himself on the writings on the wall.
He looks within, the "Light of Kshahrewar" they would call him. Perhaps a younger Kaveh would flaunt his high scaling reputation to all who may deign curious, and he very much did. But the life he envisioned was far from reach it seems, one dream after the next, complete and fulfilled. The question is what happens after that, when all your strength and will has been used to complete the hero's journey, to finish the quest, what will be left of you then?
Kaveh cares, so much. About his job, about the people who support him, about those who cannot. In every sketch he pulls out there's a dash of him he gives away, another dream, another story. What will be left then after all his dreams are fulfilled. The genius graduate erasing and erasing until he gets it down the right way, erasing and erasing until the building rises with no mistakes, erasing and erasing until there is no flaws left. What becomes then.
What is an artist to do in an academic world, where the sharp edges begin to grow into scars on his skin, once dazzling bright now as monotone as the lectures he once enjoyed.
Kaveh still loves his job, he's just afraid of how much longer he will be allowed to.