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COD Masterlist- Simon "Ghost" Riley - series currently on hiatus
Trust, where there shouldn't be (2/2) (Al Haitham x F!Reader)
Masterlist Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 (wip!)
Summary: things begin to look grim for the acting grand sage. when you are pushed, and your morals questioned, will you be brave and stand up for what you think is right?
Warnings: blood mentions, arrest and detainment, judicial execution, etc.
Word count: 2.6k
Inspired by: -
Author's note:
IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN!! happy to be back :D
this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long- sorry if the quality dropped off at the end. might go back and rewrite eventually!
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
Despite his current situation, Al Haitham is relieved that the Matra seem to be doing a decent job here at Vimara Village. Policing at the Akademiya was their job, after all. It appears that the skillset is transferable to other environments.
Stretching lazily on the mattress, he peers through the steel bars into the room across him. Apart from a wooden chair in front of the bars, the room is otherwise empty- save for him and the mattress. The whole room is windowless- dark and quiet- a perfect place for a nap. Who'd have known that being arrested would be so relaxing?
Al Haitham closes his eyes, preparing for nap three. But then there's the jingling of keys- and the door to the detention room opens. The inch of sunlight bursting through the door hurts his eyes, which have gotten used to the dark.
Someone steps in. Through squinted eyes, Al Haitham could barely make out the figure walking towards the chair but recognised the sound of those light footsteps.
"I wasn't expecting you," Al Haitham sits up, stretching his back. "Why are you here, Cyno?"
"I received an urgent letter from Rashim," Cyno pulls the chair over. "He said that someone is dead and that you're the one responsible for it."
"Dilawar is dead," Al Haitham sighs, flopping back onto the mattress. "And it wasn't me."
Cyno sits, folding his arms as he stares at the prone man.
"That's what you told the Matra," Cyno retorts. He pulls out a few loose pieces of paper, flipping back and forth through them before continuing. "Yesterday afternoon, you visited Mr Dilawar in his home to discuss the Port Ormos situation. You spoke with him till late evening before leaving and resting underneath a tree for the night," Cyno looks up from the page. "Is this correct?"
"If that is supposed to be the case notes you received from the Matra, they seem to be poorly organised," Al Haitham lazily points to the mess of papers in Cyno's hands. "You shouldn't have to flip that many times to find my statement. Did they not use headers?"
"Just answer the question. Yes, or no?"
"Force of habit, sorry. I'm the Scribe, remember?"
"I asked you a question, Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham."
"Yes," Al Haitham relents. "It's as you said. I visited Dilawar, spoke with him, then left."
"Left him dead?"
"No, alive."
"That's not what the evidence shows."
"Then you're misinterpreting the evidence."
"You-"
CRASH!
The room is suddenly filled with light as the door bursts open. The sound of something- or someone tumbling through the doors quickly follows.
"Who's there?" Cyno leaps up from his chair, polearm in hand. He squints against the harsh afternoon sun pouring through the door. "Wait, that's- Why are you guys here?"
If you had a Mora for every time someone cried themself to sleep in your home, you'd have two Mora. Which isn't a lot, but
it's strange that it happened twice in the same week.
Kaveh had just passed out on the couch- on the same one Al Haitham had done three days ago. To be accurate, Kaveh had teared up, hugged you, cried in your arms until he passed out, and then you laid him on the couch.
You were shocked when you saw the blonde tear up but were quick to soothe the crying man. You really didn't know what to say to someone struggling to come to terms with the fact that someone that they cared about was a murderer, so all you could do was pat his back and hold him while he aired his grief.
After replacing the wet towel with a spare blanket, you plop back onto the couch opposite the sleeping Kaveh, now nicely bundled up in the warm blanket. He's totally out cold. You suppose racing over to Vimara Village on foot after being punted off a boat would do that to a person. Based on what he told you, he probably had to hike through the entire night with no breaks to make it to the village this afternoon.
You can't even comprehend what Kaveh must be feeling right now. He looks so different from when you last saw him- cheerful and upbeat. As your eyes drift over to the blonde's sleeping form, flashes of the moment you last saw him come to mind.
Warmth. Laughter. Childish banter. Good food, but even greater company.
You can even remember where everyone sat that night. You sat next to Al Haitham, who sat next to Kaveh, who sat next to-
Cyno.
Oh right. Cyno is here. The General Mahamatra himself is here to deal with Al Haitham.
That's it, then? There's no getting out of this one. His fate is sealed. What's going to happen to Sumeru now?
What's going to happen to him?
If you had a Mora for every time someone cried themself to sleep in your home, you'd have two Mora. Which isn't a lot, but
it's strange that it happened twice in the same week.
Kaveh had just passed out on the couch- on the same one Al Haitham had done three days ago. To be accurate, Kaveh had teared up, hugged you, cried in your arms until he passed out, and then you laid him on the couch.
You were shocked when you saw the blonde tear up but were quick to soothe the crying man. You really didn't know what to say to someone struggling to come to terms with the fact that someone that they cared about was a murderer, so all you could do was pat his back and hold him while he aired his grief.
After replacing the wet towel with a spare blanket, you plop back onto the couch opposite the sleeping Kaveh, now nicely bundled up in the warm blanket. He's totally out cold. You suppose racing over to Vimara Village on foot after being punted off a boat would do that to a person. Based on what he told you, he probably had to hike through the entire night with no breaks to make it to the village this afternoon.
You can't even comprehend what Kaveh must be feeling right now. He looks so different from when you last saw him- cheerful and upbeat. As your eyes drift over to the blonde's sleeping form, flashes of the moment you last saw him come to mind.
Warmth. Laughter. Childish banter. Good food, but even greater company.
You can even remember where everyone sat that night. You sat next to Al Haitham, who sat next to Kaveh, who sat next to-
Cyno.
Oh right. Cyno is here. The General Mahamatra himself is here to deal with Al Haitham.
That's it, then? There's no getting out of this one. His fate is sealed. What's going to happen to Sumeru now?
What's going to happen to him?
"Al Haitham, what happened to Mr Dilawar?"
Blood. Everywhere.
The racket around you suddenly seems quiet compared to the sound of your pounding heart. You force yourself to turn to face him.
Al Haitham doesn't reply. Instead, he tilts his head, glancing past you into the bloody room.
"Let's go," you feel Al Haitham grab your hand a second later. When you don't move, he tugs harder. "Come on."
Instinct makes you snatch your hand away from him in a movement so fast it makes you flinch. Your eyes dart up to meet his- just to be greeted with a cold stare. A chill goes down your spine.
Has Al Haitham always looked this threatening?
Was this the last pair of eyes Mr Dilawar saw?
"I- Sorry. I-," you stammer as Al Haitham's eyes drift to his still-outreached hand. "Ah. Yes. You want to leave. Leave where?"
You watch nervously as he slowly drops his hand. Time seems to stand still.
"...To the port. I need to head back to the Akademiya."
"What's the rush?" You blurt. No. You can't go with him. What if he gets you next? "I mean...ah! You left your bag at my house! You can't leave without it."
"Hm? Then we should head back to your house first."
"No need! Just stay here. I'll, uh, go and grab your bag for you!"
"Sure."
You instantly make a beeline for your house, hoping to put as much distance as possible between you and him. Slamming your main door shut, you slump against it. The sound of your racing heart fills your ears as you try to catch your breath from running home.
Archons, just who have you been hanging around?
You don't want him to be around you- or anyone else, for that matter. But you can't let him leave the village either.
Breathing deeply, you try to calm yourself down. If he's truly the one who killed Mr Dilawar, you got to make sure the Matra bring him to justice. You know what you have to do.
Scanning your living room, you spot Al Haitham's overnight bag. You grab it in a swift moment before heading back out the door.
"Wait, wait! We can explain! She can explain!"
"Ow- Kaveh! Quit moving!"
"An answer. Now!"
"Ok, ok! Just get that polearm away from me!"
Cyno huffs, shifting the polearm away from his friend's face. He folds his arms, glaring at the blonde and the woman beside him. The two were bound back to back, and Cyno would have cracked a joke about it if not for their current situation.
Dismissing his Matra with a glance, he waits for the detention room door to shut before glaring between the two.
"You. I can understand why you're here," Cyno points accusingly at Kaveh. "But her. How could you drag her into this?"
"Wait, Cyno! He didn't drag me here," She exclaims, squirming uncomfortably against her restraints as she casts a hesitant look at Al Haitham through the bars. "I knew about Al Haitham's arrest. I decided to follow Kaveh to see him."
"You knew of his arrest?"
"Yeah- I was there. The Matra made me sign a confidentiality agreement after taking my statement."
"How many people know about this?"
"Only the Matra who are involved in the investigation. And two villagers from Vimara Village; both have been sworn to secrecy," Shrohre blurts. "One of the villagers is a witness; the other was in the vicinity when the Acting Grand Sage was arrested-"
Cyno turns to Al Haitham, who nods in confirmation. So, she was one of the two people Shohre mentioned. He hadn't had enough time to read the whole chunk of case notes yet. For what it was worth, Al Haitham was right. The case notes were a mess- it'll take a long time for him to locate her statement.
"She's not lying," Al Haitham finally speaks up. He had been silent through the entire ordeal, lounging quietly as the Matra restrained her and Kaveh when they burst into the detention room. "You would have had to meet her soon anyway. She's doing you a favour by finding you first."
"Regardless," Cyno observes Al Haitham's eyes drift towards her as her eyes dart away from his. "Her actions today are inexcusable. The Matra had announced that no one was permitted within a hundred meters of the detention room yesterday. She would have known this. Yet, she decided to trespass into an area where a key player of a serious case is being held."
She says nothing in response, hanging her head down.
"And you," Cyno redirects his attention to the eerily silent blonde. "I warned you not to come here at all."
Sighing loudly, Cyno pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I really didn't want to have to do this. But I'm placing you all under arrest."
"Hey-"
"Wait-"
"I'm not hearing any of it," Cyno walks over to the door, pounding twice onto the cool metal. The door immediately swings open, and two of the Matra Cyno had dismissed re-enter. "Separate them. Lock that one with the Acting Grand Sage, and bring her to the interrogation room."
"Cyno! You can't do this!" Kaveh protests as the Matras haul the duo up. "You're being ridiculous!"
"I'm just doing my job," Cyno doesn't look in Kaveh's direction as he walks towards the exit. "Don't make things harder for me- and for you."
The tiny lantern hanging precariously above the table flickers as Cyno searches through his notes piled onto the table. The interrogation room is so small that you can feel a soft brush of wind with every page turned- it does nothing to ease your nerves.
"So, you were the villager who turned the Acting Grand Sage in," Cyno sighs as he stops at a particular page, taking a quick moment to scan through the contents. He frowns. "Tell me what led up to that moment."
"There's nothing much to say," you blurt, watching the loose page fall out of Cyno's hands. "I'm the one who turned the Acting Grand Sage in."
"Is that so," Cyno picks up the page off the floor, smoothening it out as he gives it a scan. "I see it here. Your statement."
"Wait a second," you frown. "First off, I was never asked to give a statement. I mean, yes, the Matra had asked me what happened, and made me sign a confidentiality agreement, but I never gave a proper statement."
"Well-"
"And look," you turn the paper around, pointing. "This can barely be called a statement. Where do I even begin? The officer who supposedly took this statement's name isn't here, the writing is all off, my address isn't recorded, and my own name isn't even here!" you huff. "This statement, if I can even call it that, wasn't even confirmed by me- it wasn't read back to me. This, if it can even be used in court, would be treated as unreliable at best, and inadmissible at worst!"
"I-"
"The audacity!" you slump back into your cold, metal seat, ignoring the rude screech the chair makes as it scratches against the floor. "A case as serious as this, handled by Matra who don't know what they are doing!"
You huff out loudly in frustration. How could this be happening? The validity of evidence, the witnesses in this case will be crucial in determining Al Haitham's fate. How would the Matra be so careless about this?
Wait a minute- Matra. General Mahatra. Cyno.
He's here.
Oh no.
Cyno's eyes are wide open, with an expression you can't quite place. Perhaps somewhere between being appalled and angry.
"Well, that is why I called you here," Cyno clears his throat, carefully peeling the paper from under your palms. "I'm here to retake your statement- a proper one."
"âŠYeah. Yeah, ok. Sorry."
"This won't take long," Cyno takes out a fresh sheet of paper and opens a bottle of ink. "I am Cyno, General Mahamatra of the Akademiya. May I have your name, age, and address?"
It doesn't take long for your statement to be recorded. Cyno writes fast and knows when to ask you to be more specific and when to let you keep talking.
"âŠThis statement has been read back to me and is correct to the best of my knowledge and beliefs." Cyno reads. "If you're satisfied with your statement, please sign here."
Cyno holds out the pen to you, his other hand gesturing at the signature line.
This is it, then. Once you sign the statement, the Matra will have everything they need to formally charge Al Haitham with murder.
You would be the final nail in Al Haitham's coffin.
Your eyes can't move away from the paper.
"âŠThank you for your time," Cyno clears his throat, tossing you a quizzical look. Awkwardly, he places the pen on the table, pushing it closer to you. "If you would just sign here, that will be all."
He's right. All you have to do is sign the statement. Nothing on it is false, you weren't coerced into saying anything you didn't mean, and there weren't any procedure lapses while your statement was being taken. It's not like you're doing anything wrong.
So why?
Why can't you sign this?
It's because you know he's innocent. Deep down, you know he would never do something like that.
Are you going to let an innocent man hang?
All those dreams of being able to stand up for the guiltless, the framed and downtrodden, just for you to end up like this. Just for you to sign a paper that would contribute to the death of what you know to be an innocent man.
And for what? Just for you to be able to give yourself a pat on the back and say, "I did my part as a citizen of Sumeru! I told the truth, even when I knew that it would condemn an innocent man!"
Is this what justice is? Are you doing the correct or the right thing?
"Hey⊠is everything alright?" Cyno frowns, leaning over the table. "I know I told Kaveh that the two of you were under arrest. But I didn't really mean it for you-"
"No. This isn't right!" You will to push the words out of your mouth. You see Cyno flinch from your outburst. "He wouldn't have, couldn't have!"
"Wha-"
"I'm not signing this," You stand, snatching the paper off the table and ripping it to shreds. "This is wrong, all of it is!"
The two of you watch the torn pieces flutter all over like snow. You see Cyno's eyes open in disbelief, and you see him open his mouth-
"I'm not going to stand around and let an innocent man get charged with murder," You look away from Cyno, afraid that your resolve would crumble the moment you meet his strict gaze. "The Acting Grand Sage doesn't have a defence lawyer, yes? So I'll do it."
You take a deep breath in. No turning back now.
"I'll investigate the case and prove that Al Haitham is innocent!"
Trust, where there shouldn't be (1/2) (Al Haitham x F!Reader)
Masterlist Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Summary: just when things were supposed to settle down, trouble stirs again- this time, with the fate of sumeru potentially hanging in the balance.
Warnings: mention of murder, crime, getting arrested, water,
Word count: < 3.3k
Inspired by: -
Author's note: this has been in my drafts for way too long! i'm back!! this chapter is a little more kaveh and cyno centric! i hope this chapter is ok :)
its been so long since i wrote- had a lot going on! i'm going to have to recall the original plot i wanted to roll with, and check up on genshin lore!
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
Usually, offences unrelated to the Akademiya were handled by the Mahamata- Sumeru's civil administration branch. To be specific, the crime division- which consists of the Corps of Thirty and the Mahamata investigation department (which overlapped with the Matra on occasion).
However, this isn't the case anymore for places outside Sumeru City. The work of the Mahamata is extremely procedure-heavy, which often translates into heavy reliance on Akasha Terminals to help speed up and manage the workload. As such, when the Akasha Terminals were shut down, what followed was nothing short of a mess. Nobody could remember what to do when faced with certain situations, and even if they did, it often was after a lot of work had piled up. Tasks like recording, which had been done solely by the Akasha Terminals, now have to be done manually (so now there's also a labour shortage in the Mahamata)- and of course, to make everything worse, all records before this have been destroyed together with the Terminals.
No one could start anything, no one could finish anything, nothing was being done; and at least from a law enforcement perspective, the growing public dissatisfaction with the whole situation- the Akademiya scandal, the current state of the nation and its administration, and the now scarily apparent increasing crime rate- is a growing threat to public order. The Mahamata is failing- or perhaps more accurately, has failed everywhere except Sumeru City, which had only survived this ordeal because Al Haitham was there to sort it out before things got out of hand.
To manage this, Al Haitham had instructed the Matra to help in regions that had seen a complete administrative shutdown. Cyno didn't see an issue- after all, the Matra didn't have much to do due to the small number of ongoing research projects (fewer academic violations). As such, the General Mahamatra had sent some of his most capable and trusted Matra to take over Mahamata duties- and he's proud to say that they have been carrying out their new duties exceptionally. Every once in a while, he'll get a report back from his dispatched Matra about their current status- and it all seems to be going fine, for now.
Port Ormos, however, was a strange case. In other regions where Al Haitham's Matra-Mahamata system was applied, it had worked perfectly- things began to pick up again, and, for at least now, some sense of public order had been restored. However, due to the unique circumstances in Port Ormos, the Matra-Mahamata system didn't change anything. The Port Ormos Crash meant nothing was happening at the port- there was no one there. There is nothing to administrate or anything to do. The only notable thing in the reports sent back to Cyno was that the Corps of Thirty Division in Port Ormos was gone; according to Rashim (the Matra he had sent there to take over Port Ormos's lead Mahamata's duties), it was because the Wikala Funduq's trade supervisors had dismissed them due to the lack of business- no business meant no people in the port, which meant that policing staff weren't needed. When Cyno had escalated this to Al Haitham in the name of security concerns for the people living at and around the port, the man had let out the loudest sigh he had ever heard.
"Well, it certainly explains why the people around that area have been calling the Matra of all people for crime reports," Cyno informed, placing Rashim's report on Al Haitham's packed desk. "What is your instruction, Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham?"
"Could you spare any more of your Matra?" Al Haitham doesn't look up at him as he scans through a document. Cyno doesn't take it personally. "Send any that you can to Port Ormos. They'll take over the policing side of things until the Mahamata is stable enough to re-contract and manage the Corps of Thirty again."
"Very well," Cyno agrees as he watches Al Haitham quickly sign at the end of the page before picking up a new one. His new office above the House of Daena is dimly lit, but even so, Cyno can see the dark circles under his friend's eyes. "Al Hai-"
"Is that all?"
No. No, it wasn't. Cyno wants to ask if there's anything else he could do. If there is anything more that he could do. He has never felt so helpless before, watching his friend stress all alone while he watches.
The silence causes Al Haitham to look up at him, pen in hand, impatiently waiting for a response- and Cyno feels the question disappear from his lips.
"Yes- yes, that's all."
He couldnât have done it. In hindsight, Al Haitham being the culprit makes zero sense.
Yes, he may have been the last person to see Mr Dilawar. And yes, the Matra did find bloody clothing in his overnight bag. But under scrutiny, several small details donât add up.
For example, his movements on the day of the murder. No murderer would have stayed any longer in Vimara Village after killing someone there. Much less take time to wander around the village the next morning, buy groceries and chat about books for the next half a day.Â
Next, the murder weapon. The Matra found a bloody kitchen knife next to Mr Dilawar and deemed it the murder weapon. The doctor that they brought along also agreed. But knowing Al Haitham and what he can do, it makes little sense- why use something that can be found when he could use his sword and then make it disappear?Â
Nothing makes sense. Once you got over the initial shock and thought things through, Al Haitham being the killer makes no sense.
Or perhaps this is all just your wishful thinking- maybe youâre just trying to squeeze out any tiny, irrelevant inconsistency to convince yourself that the man is innocent.
You just donât want him to be guilty, you scold yourself as you pace mindlessly outside your house. You donât want to believe that a guy who would be so kind to you, chat with you about books, buy groceries for you when you were too scared to do so, would go and butcher a man and act so casual about it.
What do you even know about Al Haitham anyway? Youâve only known him for less than a week. Perhaps this is what heâs actually like, under all that kindness and gentleness and-
"It's you!"
The loud exclamation shocks you out of your ruminations. Where have you heard this voice before?
"It's me! Kaveh! Remember me?" You hear the loud sound of rushing footsteps before a hand grabs your shoulder and pulls. The force makes you spin on your heel, and you turn, finally seeing the man himself. His golden hair is in a mess- the feather on his head shoved haphazardly around his fringe- and he's drenched from head to toe. Did he run here? Or swim? Â
"Kaveh? What are you doing here?"Â
"I- it's a long story," Kaveh pants, removing his wet hand from your shoulder. "Do you know where the detention rooms are?"
"It's not too far from here," you point towards a dirt path leading away from your house, and Kaveh prepares to bolt in that direction. You quickly grab his arm before he does. "Kaveh, wait! Is this about Al Haitham?"
Through the warm, wet fabirc of his sleeve, you feel his arm tense up. So, it is about Al Haitham.Â
"You've heard about it too," he sighs, turning to face you. He lowers his voice as you release his arm. "I thought that they were trying to keep it under wraps. If news got out that the Acting Grand Sage got arrested for killing somebody right after the whole Akademiya Sage saga..."
You shudder at the implication of his words. It would be chaos if word got out about Al Haitham's arrest. Regardless of innocence, nobody would be able to accept someone who was suspected of murder to lead the country. And in the state that Sumeru is in, she won't survive another political crisis.
"Let's speak somewhere quieter," you lead Kaveh towards your home. "Come on in."
The first thing Kaveh notices when he enters her house is how packed it is with books but not with anything else.Â
"Do you want anything to drink?" She asks as she shuts her front door. "I'll go get you a towel. You look like you ran all the way here. Or swam all the way here. Or both?"
"I did," Kaveh groans, treading carefully so he doesn't wet her living room. Her sofa is a lovely shade of green; it matches her wallpaper perfectly. Now, if she moves that stack of books a little more to the left... "I snuck onto the boat Cyno and the Matra took here this morning and was kicked off about halfway when they caught me. I was worried about what Cyno was planning, so I ran all the way. The swimming was involuntary."
"Cyno is here?" Kaveh hears her step back into the living room. She hands him a glass of warm water and a towel, gesturing him to take a seat before sitting opposite him. "Wait, start from the beginning, how did you find out?"
"It's a long, long story," Kaveh sighs, sinking into the couch. "Basically..."
That arrogant, unbearable, stupid fungi took his keys again. Couldn't he at least have returned it before he left for Vimara Village?!
"I swear I'm going to kill him when he gets back," Kaveh complains from the couch. The General Mahamatra's office is comfortable, but not so much so that he would be happy to sleep on it for the night. A sigh comes from the table behind him, and Kaveh turns to face the shorter man.Â
"And when I take my keys back from his corpse, I'm never leaving it in the key holder ever again!"
"I guess you've locked onto a solution," Cyno quips, and Kaveh responds with a groan. "Do you want me to call Ahangar to unlock the door for you? He does locksmithing services too. We could ask him to duplicate a spare key."
"That's beside the point. The point is-"
"General Mahamatra!" The door bursts open before Kaveh can finish, nearly shocking him off the couch. It's one of Cyno's Matra. She doesn't seem to see him- beelining over to Cyno's desk, holding a letter towards him. From where Kaveh lies, he spots a red wax seal keeping the envelope shut. "An urgent message from Rashim!"
"Rashim?" Cyno seems to have spotted the red seal and frowns. Kaveh hears Cyno's chair drag against the floor as he stands- and the mood in the room shifts. Something big has happened. Something bad? "Did you rush over here from Port Ormos, Shohre?"
Kaveh knows he shouldn't be listening to this conversation. Whatever is going on here is clearly important, confidential, and for Akademiya folk to deal with. He should excuse himself, let Cyno deal with the issue in peace, and head to the tavern to order all the wine and place it on Al Haitham's tab.Â
But, whatever is going on here is clearly interesting, and Kaveh is bored (and for the record, this is all Al Haitham's fault- he wouldn't be so bored if he could go home and continue his architectural models). So, he decides to lie perfectly still on the couch; perhaps if he doesn't move, Cyno will forget that he's here and not chase him out. Let him hear the tea, please.
"Yes. This is a matter of utmost importance!" From where Kaveh lurks, he hears Shohre (who Kaveh slowly figures out is most likely a Matra stationed at Port Ormos) shift closer towards Cyno. "Rashim currently has the situation under control, so he sent me to deliver the message."
"But why send you? This letter would have sufficed."
"Due to the nature of the situation, Rashim felt that the matter had to be handled with confidentiality. The letter is for your eyes only- I was to ensure that," Shohre answers. "I was also to answer any questions regarding the incident at hand. Only the simplest details were included in the letter as a precaution."
There's a rustling of paper- an envelope opening, perhaps? Kaveh pictures Cyno tearing into the sealed paper as he holds his breath. What could have happened?
Silence. But just when Kaveh is about to lift his head and take a peek at the two-
SLAM!
"You can't be serious," Cyno's voice drops to a deadly whisper- a stark difference from the loud slam that reverberated through the room. Kaveh hears the crumpling of paper. "Is this a joke?"
"It isn't. Rashim is requesting your presence in Vimara Village at once."
"This is ridiculous," Cyno's voice takes an angry tone. Kaveh doesn't dare move. "How could this happen?"
If Shohre responds, Kaveh doesn't hear it.Â
"How many people know about this?"
"Only the Matra who are involved in the investigation. And two villagers from Vimara Village; both have been sworn to secrecy," Shrohre blurts. "One of the villagers is a witness; the other was in the vicinity when the Acting Grand Sage was arrested-"
"I'm sorry, arrested?!" The sudden mention of Al Haitham is apparently enough for Kaveh to forget fear and jump off the couch. Shohre screams. Cyno whips out his polearm. Kaveh ignores both. "What happened to Al Haitham? Is he alright? Is-"
"You are not allowed here, what are you-"
"Cyno! What did Al Haitham do-"
SLAM!
"Enough!" The sound of Cyno's polearm hitting against the cool marble tiles shocks the two out of their squabbling. "Kaveh. I forgot you were here."
"That was kind of the point at first."
"Shohre. I'll handle this," Cyno turns to the Matra, dismissing her. "I'll meet you at the docks."
Kaveh doesn't miss the wary glance Shohre shoots at him- but decides to look at Cyno instead. When the door shuts, Cyno sighs, turning back towards Kaveh.
"I know you have questions-"
"Yeah, no sh-"
"But," Cyno interrupts with a heavy look. Kaveh feels a chill go down his spine. "You need to forget everything you've just heard."
What?
"I'm serious, Kaveh. No one can know what you just heard," Cyno folds his arms, staring Kaveh down. "You aren't even supposed to know."Â
"You can't just tell me to forget after hearing that!" Kaveh scoffs. The audacity! "My fri- housemate just got arrested for Archons knows what, and you're telling me to just go on my merry way?!"
"Like I said, I'll call a locksmith to open your door-"
"That's not the point! I want answers! I want to know if he's okay!"
"He's fine!" Cyno raises his voice. Tempers are rising in the room. "As fine as someone who just butchered a man would be." He spits.
Silence.Â
"What did you just say?"
"Nothing," Cyno flinches away, walking towards the door. "You should leave, Kaveh."
"Butchered someone? Al Haitham murdered someone?" Kaveh takes a step back. "Cyno, what?!"
"Kaveh, please go. Don't make me arrest you."
"... and so I left, kind of. I followed Cyno to the dock where his boat was waiting and snuck on," Kaveh recalls. "But halfway, I was betrayed by my rumbling stomach and was caught by the Matra onboard."
"And they dropped you off at the nearest shore?" she pokes, glancing at the water dripping onto her floor.Â
"I wish. Cyno kicked me off the boat. Literally." Kaveh shivers at the memory, pulling at his wet clothes. "Seriously! He's acting like a Pyro Fungi! He's been acting like a prick ever since he heard the news!"
She doesn't say anything in response, only nodding at him to continue. And continue Kaveh will. He has a lot to say. But perhaps more to think about.
"I know Cyno is just doing his job," Kaveh sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Confidentiality I get, but he didn't have to dismiss me like that. I'm worried. The dude I live with just got arrested for murder. I think being disturbed since I live with said person is not overreacting."
"So you think he did it?" she queries softly. So softly that Kaveh would have missed it if he couldn't see her mouth move. "You think that Al Haitham is a murderer?"
"I- no, that's not it," Kaveh cups his hands around the warm mug. "I don't know. This is just- I don't know."
And that's the big question, isn't it? The question he's been avoiding.Â
Al Haitham is a machine. He's logical to a fault. He takes a situation, analyses it, finds the best course of action and carries it out. He cuts out all the emotional aspects of a situation unless he can use it to his advantage- something Kaveh hates about him. He doesn't care about the feelings of others- something Kaveh hates even more about him.
With all this being said, is it that much of a stretch that Al Haitham may kill someone to accomplish a goal? Kaveh can see it- Al Haitham, taking his blade and piercing it into someone's chest. In Kaveh's mind, Al Haitham doesn't hesitate. He doesn't look back. He doesn't think about what he had just done, only what happens next.
"...aveh. Kaveh!"Â
"Yes!" Kaveh jerks in his seat. "Sorry, what were you saying again?"
"No, I wasn't...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she fiddles with her fingers. She doesn't meet Kaveh's gaze. "I didn't mean to ask that. You must be exhausted."
"I am," Kaveh slumps back into his seat. The towel is doing wonders to absorb the water on him. He'll be dry in no time. "Conflicted and tired. And..."
Hurt.Â
Kaveh is hurt.Â
As much as he doesn't want to admit it, a part of him- a much younger, naive and carefree Kaveh who knew the stoic, pensive Al Haitham before the fall out- still believes that his friend (or at least, the friend he knew) is still somewhere in there. Past all the arguments, the passive-aggressive taunts, the lock-outs, Kaveh knows that Al Haitham isn't the machine that he makes him out to be.
But he can't take that leap of faith and trust that he's innocent. He and Al Haitham are too far gone for that. Well, not so far gone that they don't talk or are totally incapable of living together, but still not close enough. Not on the level they used to be, where Kaveh would have believed anything that came out of Al Haitham's mouth. Whatever semblance of friendship they have now is not enough for Kaveh to convince himself that Al Haitham won't go and kill a person. It's not enough. But it could have been. It should have been. And that's what hurts the most.
Call Kaveh a dreamer. A brightsider. A hopeless hoper, if you will. But this fool had believed that one day, in the not-so-distant future, they would somehow make amends and return to the two friends they used to be in the Akademiya. They would joke, share ideas, and not let a difference in ideals come between them. Kaveh had been waiting for a day like that. Kaveh had truly believed that a day like that would come. But now it won't. Al Haitham had gone and butchered someone for Archon knows what reason, and with that, slain whatever hope Kaveh had of getting his old friend back.
Summary: youâre finally back home, so things should be back to normal, right?
Warnings: reader's parents (mother and father), anxious reader, a scream, blood, death (not F!reader or al haitham)
Word count: <3.4k
Inspired by: -
Author's note: i'm back! i'm thinking of setting up a writing schedule, and make writing a habit again.
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
Up until a month ago, owning books for personal use was against the Akademiya's rules. So, things like storybooks and guidebooks weren't a thing that most people grew up with. Books were considered items only used by Akademiya students or teachers (and record keepers)- untouchable and unnecessary for the common folk. Who needed books, anyway? The Akasha Terminal had everything, after all.
Oh, but you were different. And so much better off for it, so you'd like to believe.
Your mother was a trader- a rather adventurous one, at that. Instead of trading by Port Ormos, waiting for business to come her way, she'd set sail with her wares to the seven nations. And when she came home, she brought back all sorts of souvenirs.
One day, after a particularly long trip to Liyue, she came home carrying a mysterious brown squarish thing.Â
"They call this a book," your mother had told you, gently placing the item in your hands as she closed the door behind her. "Open it and take a look!"
Taking the item from your mother, you slowly turned it in your hands, running a finger along its unbound side- the concaved, pressed pages bound by leather.Â
"Records of... Jun- no, Jui-"
"Records of Jueyun," your mother corrected. "It's a storybook."
"What's that?"
"Why don't you open it?"
You cautiously pulled the hardcover and were greeted by pages upon pages of writing. But these writings were different from the passages you had to read at the village school.Â
Words- both new and familiar, were placed together in ways you have never seen before, creating beautiful pictures in your mind.Â
"...The merciful Geo Archon granted their request and made them as such. The end."
"Wait! That's it?!" you exclaim, desperately trying to find another page to turn. But all there was the brown, empty book cover. "That's all?"
"This is only the first volume," Your mother chuckled, patting your head gently as she took the book back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll try to bring the next one another time, alright?"
"...Alright, but can I keep it?" you reached out, trying to take the book.
There was a pause from your mother as she pulled the book away from your reaching hands.
"Pleaseee?"
"Only if you promise to keep this a secret, alright?" Your mother squatted to your eye level, her tone serious. "You have to keep this book a secret, ok? No one can know that we have this."
"Yes! I will!"Â
"Alright, now go put the book at the bottom of your toy box. And then let's go help Daddy cook some dinner!"
At that time, your enthusiasm distracted you from the seriousness in your mother's tone. As a young child, you didn't think about why you weren't allowed to tell anyone about your new possession- or why your mother had removed her Akasha Terminal when she spoke of the book. All you could think of were brave stone beasts and a magical land called "Liyue".
As tough as it was, you managed to keep the secret until the Matra barged into your home many years later (though the Personal Books Act was abolished by then). In those years, however, your obsession with books only grew- and was wholly encouraged by your parents. You learned how to read and to learn through reading. As a result, the Akasha Terminal you had received from the Akademiya when you turned 18 had been useless to you- what could it tell you that your precious books could not? The information you wanted was sometimes beyond what your credentials allowed you anyway. Besides, you loved the process of reading and reading and reading even more before you finally found what you wanted to know. What was the point of having information beamed into your mind when you could learn that and way more through books and research?Â
"The world doesn't just consist of Sumeru," your mother had told you two years later on the day you moved out with your secret massive (and illegal) collection of books. "Go, look further than Vimara Village. Explore! Your books can only tell you so much."
"I know, Mum," your voice strains as you place a crate packed with books shrouded in cloth into your new home. In the interest of saving money, you hadn't moved far- just about a kilometre from your parents' house. It's a little bigger than your family home, which means more places for you to store (hide) your books. "But Liyue's Law School is expensive, and I want to save up as much as I can for it."
"You're an intelligent young woman," your father dusts off his hands. "I'm sure there are bursaries and scholarships that you can apply for. And if money is an issue-"
"Thank you, Dad, but it's fine. I want to be able to go there using my own money- if I don't learn to save and make my own Mora, when will I ever learn how to?"
"We understand, dear," your mother sighs, looking at you. "We just don't want you to waste your youth away toiling away when you could go to Liyue and learn and enjoy yourself now. You'll have all the time in Teyvat to work when you're older."
"And what I want is for the two of you to enjoy your retirement and explore Teyvat," you smile at your mother. "Don't worry about me! I'll learn lots from the work experience! It's like you always say, Mum..."
"Book learning alone is not enough to cultivate intelligence. All those scholars from the Akademiya are prime examples."Â Â
If you're being honest, you don't want to leave your house. But if you don't head out now, you'll miss the only opportunity to buy groceries from Bahram until tomorrow morning. You don't think the onion (half an onion- Al Haitham ate the other half) from yesterday can sustain you till then.
You shut the door again, sighing as you stretched your sprained ankle. It doesn't hurt as much as yesterday, thankfully. But your stomach does, as it growls yet again.
One more minute. One more minute, and you'll head out.
You stare at your feet as you clutch your door handle, pulling it slightly open again. 60, 59, 58âŠ
Your heart pounds. For some reason, the sounds outside your door seem sharper now. You hear every footstep, every laugh, every shuffle-
40, 39, 38âŠ
There are people outside. So, so many people.
The moment you step out, you know you'll be under fire. Everyone thinks you had kidnapped the Acting Grand Sage, after all.
What are they saying about you now?
30, 29, 28âŠ
Your reputation is probably in shambles right now. Getting arrested was pretty much social suicide. Falsely accused or not, it doesn't matter. The village gossipers don't care.
Maybe it's better to stay at home. No one can see you here. You can't hear the things they'll say about you here.
They'll all stare at you if you go out. Angry, disgusted stares. All pointed at you.
20, 19, 18âŠ
Yeah. Home doesn't sound too bad. Food? Technically, paper is made from trees, yes? And trees are kind of like vegetables. You'll have a damn healthy diet if you eat your books. Thankfully, you have no shortage of them.
10, 9, 8âŠ
Yep. Home is where the heart is, and your bookshelf can be your new food pantry.
5, 4, 3âŠ
You remove your hand from the handle. One light push and your door will close- shutting you from the world.
You'll be safe.
You'll be alone.
You place your hand back on the handle, ready to push.
2, 1-
But just as you are about to push, fingers wrap around the edge of the open door and push back against you, forcing the door wide open.
Zero.
Al Haitham was supposed to head back immediately after settling things with Dilawar. That was the plan. He had no time to waste hanging around anywhere other than his office.
That was the plan.Â
Thanks to her directions, he managed to find Dilawar's house not long after he left her home. He had pounded on the man's door relentlessly till he opened up.
And when he finally did, Al Haitham went off.
Al Haitham had let him know the full extent of his frustrations regarding the lack of response to his letters. And let Dilawar know how appalled he was when he came to the port to find it completely deserted- how could he, the main trade supervisor, let that happen?
"But Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham, be reasonable! There was nothing for the workers to do-"
"It is one thing to cut down on staff. It is a whole other thing to call it quits the moment things go south and lay everyone off," Al Haitham ranted. "I sent the first letter three months ago a day after the Port Ormos crash. The fact that I heard nothing back- and that I found that letter completely unread and on your desk alongside the others in your office shows that you immediately abandoned your post," Al Haithan sighed heavily. "According to the reports I received, merchant ships were still coming in when the Wikala Funduq shut down. Trade could have still gone on- however inefficiently- had you and Ms Gauhar not caved."
It wasn't like Al Haitham to go on and on like this about things that have already happened and cannot be changed. But he can't help it. The Port Ormos issue has been one of his biggest headaches that has been going on for three months now. And all because two flimsy trade supervisors can't do their job right the moment their Akasha Terminals couldn't help them. The reason for the Port Ormos Crash was internal- which made him all the more upset.
By the time Al Haitham finished dealing with Dilawar, night had fallen. He was exhausted- but not so much that he would have taken Dilawar's guest room. All he wants is to recharge in peace. Alone. In silence.
Turning the noise cancellation on his earpieces, he slowly walked out of Dilawar's house and turned towards the village dock. But just as he looked ahead to see where he was going, he saw something glowing softly below in the distance.
Squinting his eyes, Al Haitham took a step forward- what in Teyvat is that? Now that he thinks about it, won't this direction head towards her home? All he'll have to do is take the slope back down, and she'll be right there.
Ah, wait. That is her home- and if he focuses hard enough, he can see that whatever is glowing is coming from her home. The pieces start to click- it's candlelight. She's lighting candles around her home. The Matra destroyed everything- even her lanterns.Â
Peering over the ledge, Al Haitham silently observes a single, flickering orange orb float from one end of her home to another- slowly illuminating room by room in a gentle glow. It's so much easier on the eye than the other houses with obnoxiously bright white lanterns.
Through the now backlit curtains, he sees her silhouette- and he watches her as she blows out the candle in her hand. He watches her graceful movements as she slowly makes her way across the room, running her hands along what he recalls to be one of her bookshelves- the one where she told him to place her law books.Â
She runs a finger slowly down the spine of one of her books, and Al Haitham feels a shiver go down his- snapping him out of whatever trance he was stuck in.Â
Archons, he must be exhausted. What is he, a creep? Staring at someone in their own home??
Gathering himself, he looks around. It's 15-minute walk back to the dock. With no guarantee that there's anyone still awake to take him back to Sumeru City.
Might as well spend the night here. The more he entertained the thought, the more appealing it sounded.
Oh, whatever, Al Haitham caves. He's too tired, and the ambience is too comfortable to resist. Finding what seems to be a nice tree, he settles himself down, leaning his head against the solid wooden bark as he watches the gentle glow of the distant candlelights lull him to sleep.Â
And if his eyes ever drifted to the woman still picking out a book to read? Well, that'll be a secret between him and imaginary Kaveh (unfortunately).
"Are you alright?"
Out of anyone who you thought would bust into your house today, he wasn't one of them. You were expecting more of an angry mob- or one of those angry-Acting-Grand-Sage-fanatic that had missed the notice that you were innocent and was going to kill you in revenge for kidnapping the Acting Grand Sage (yeah, you've read too many Mondstadt romance novels).
"Al Haitham?" you stabilise yourself, taking a step towards him. "What are you doing here?"
"Can I come in?"
"Ah, of course," you say, realising at that moment that the now fully open door left you fully exposed to the outside world. "Come on in!" You invite, before promptly shutting the door behind him.
He's carrying something, you notice as you turn back to face him. Alongside his overnight bag, he's got a paper bag filled with stuff.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yes," he replies calmly, looking around your home- his eyes lingering along a candlestand attached to your wall. "I just came by to pass you these," he hands over the paper bag to you. "Some groceries."
"Oh, you shouldn't have-"
"If I haven't, would you have gone out to get them yourself?" Al Haitham interrupts. "I saw you hover your door for over an hour."
"Ah, you saw that," you respond sheepishly.Â
"I did. You opened the door just to close it every time."
"Well..."
"What are you afraid of?" Al Haitham cocks his head towards the door. "Your neighbours?"
When you don't reply, Al Haitham sighs.
"How's your ankle?" He changes the subject, motioning for you to sit on the couch.
"It's much better than yesterday! Just a bit of aching, but I'm fine," you reply hastily, grateful for the subject change. You don't want to talk about what could be awaiting you outside your door.
"That's good," Al Haitham sits opposite you, glancing at the book you've left on the armrest. "'Sumeru Law 203". I'm impressed you managed to get ahold of an Akademiya textbook."
"Oh!" Now this, you want to want to talk about. You've never had anyone to enthuse with about your book collection before. "I bought it from an Akademiya student passing by Port Ormos a couple of years ago! He kept saying that he wanted to quit and was throwing a whole fit at the docks!" you chuckle, remembering the scene. You had tried to calm him and encourage him, but it seemed his mind was made up, so you offered to buy the book from him. It took quite a bit of convincing since it was very illegal for Akademiya-associated individuals to sell their books to non-Akademiya individuals. But when you showed the student that you were willing to pay quite the sum, his determination wavered and eventually gave in.
"You're very lucky the Matra found you after the Personal Book Act was abolished," Al Haitham looks at your packed bookshelves as he flips to a page in the textbook. "All these books would have given you... at least a fifteen-year sentence- and your textbooks," he gives the one he holds a little shake in your direction while glancing at you, "would have been a separate sentence- easily ten years per book and-"
"The sentences would have been ordered to run consecutively, not concurrently," you finish his line. He looks up from the book, and you think he almost looks impressed. "I have seven Akademiya textbooks. In total, I would have sat in jail for no less than eighty-five years."
"...That's right."
"I could have spent an entire lifetime behind bars."
"You could have."
"Do you think I was stupid, then? To take a risk just to read books when I could have asked the Akasha Terminal and have all the knowledge beamed into my head instead?"
Al Haitham shuts the book gently and hands it back to you. His response is almost immediate.
"No. If anything, I think you are all the more brilliant for doing so."
Al Haitham spends the rest of the morning chatting with her about books. He gave his honest comments on those he had read before and took note of the ones she recommended. It was refreshing, to say the least.
This was the first time he'd ever spoken to someone so enthusiastic about reading. Any reader he had come across before this were all Akademiya students- who mostly did read begrudgingly just so they could say they fulfilled their book annotation coursework in the House of Daena. The only other person who even had the slightest chance of matching her current enthusiasm was Kaveh- and he didn't even like reading as much as he liked spewing out his opinions in whatever architecture book he was annotating.
But her- she enjoyed it, reading. She liked getting confused by the words, and looking them up in a (Al Haitham hardly gets surprised by anything, but this did) actual, paper dictionary. She likes jumping back pages to re-read that one sentence she did not understand, but they referenced it later so she has to. She liked finding out that one book said this, and the other said that- so she could think about both and try to figure out which made more sense to her.
The effort. The focus. The occasional paper cut. She loved all of it.
It was a whole experience watching her talk about what she had read. Hearing what she thought about it- telling her what he thought about it- pushing each other's horizons just that little bit further.
He loved it.
"I mean, I think it's valid for Risha to think like that," she states, pointing out a passage in a novel. They had moved on from non-fiction to fiction- from the bookshelf near the main door to the one at the back wall. "But her reaction wasn't justified- Ona doesn't deserve that at all! She didn't know!"
"I agree," Al Haitham prepares to rebut. "But-"
A shrill scream pierces through the calm atmosphere, and she nearly falls out of her seat.
"What happened?!"
"It sounds like it's coming from the houses above," Al Haitham hears a flurry of footsteps leading towards the slope. "Let's go."
By the time you reach the top of the slope, you're not far behind Al Haitham. Panting, you look up. Everyone's gathered around Mr Dilawar's house- and is someone crying?
"Get behind me," Al Haitham whispers to you. "Is your ankle-"
"My ankle's fine. I'm just- just out of shape," you pant. "That's Mr Dilawar's house."
"I met him there yesterday," Al Haitham slowly pushes past the crowd. "I stayed with him till the late evening, before I-"
"What-"
You've suddenly spun around, facing away from the house.
"Al Haitham?! What are you-" You turn your head to face back, but he blocks your vision with a quick step.
"How comfortable are you with blood?"
"Blood? What do you mean-"
"Human blood. In large quantities."
A shiver goes down your spine.
"Al Haitham, what happened to Mr Dilawar?"
Just as Al Haitham was about to reply, a loud voice from the house yelled at the crowd to give way. You step aside, guided by Al Haitham, as a makeshift stretcher quickly carries something covered by a red-stained tarp away from his house. The smell is unmistakable- it's blood.
You turn to face the house, and this time Al Haitham doesn't block you. You're instantly greeted by a world of red- which you're sure extends further into his house if only you have the guts to check.Â
"Who was the last person to see him?" A man sobs- Mr Azmas. "That must be who killed my brother! Find him now! Get the Matra!"
"I met him there yesterday," Al Haitham had pushed past the crowd. "I stayed with him till the late evening, before I-"
You have a bad feeling about this. A shiver, now threatening to break into full-blown trembling threatens to take over your body as you turn to face the green-clad man slowly.
It's been an interesting (and busy- but in a good way!) few months for me, and now that things are winding down, I'll finally have more time to catch up on genshin lore and continue 'Here and now'! It'll take some time for me to refresh my memory, but i'll try to post an update by the end of this year!
hi how you doing? hope youre doing great. i miss u and your writingđ„čđ„čđ„č
Hi!! Thanks for checking in :') yeah, things have been a little strange on my end recently and i haven't been feeling too good. I'll get back to writing once i sort everything out!!!
Summary: you're finally home! But what is this mess? clean up + cooking with alhaitham basically
Warnings: vulgarities, trashed up house (matra's fault), reader's ankle is sprained, cleaning up, alhaitham spewing out absolute bs, they eat an onion lol (no joke i was far gone when i wrote that part), sword,
Word count: <3.4k
Inspired by:-
Author's note: im learning how to make gifs! also im not sure if its obvious, but this is gonna be a 'slowburn' type of story!
Thank you everyone for your comments and encouragement! I can;t thank you all enough!
as usual i hope this is ok i tried
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
Her house is a fucking mess.
Al Haitham can try, but he can't recall what her house looks like. But he knows it's not supposed to look like this.
Archons, what the hell did the Matra do?Â
He doesn't stop her when she unslings her arm from around him. Instead, he holds the door open as she hobbles into her living room. He hears her let out a defeated sigh, but when she turns around to face him, she smiles.
"Well, at least I'll have something to do this afternoon," she looks around with pursed lips. "Been thinking of rearranging stuff anyway!"
Her cheerful tone doesn't fool him. It's as clear as day that she's beyond upset at the state of her home.
"You're...going to clean up this mess on your own?" she can't be serious. The place is completely trashed (is that...Harra Spice on the floor?). "Just you. With your sprained ankle."Â
"Well, you did see the looks that the neighbours gave me," no, he didn't. He was focusing on other things. Like making sure she leans her weight on him, not her ankle. "I should probably keep to myself for now," she replies, her eyes downcast. "Hopefully, whatever rumours about me will die out soon."Â
With that, she squats down, picking up a book off the floor.Â
Huh, now that he thinks about it, there are a lot of books here (and yes, that's definitely Harra Spice on the floor.). And no, not notebooks or record books. Actual books- look, there's a book on languages over there and a thick book about Liyue Adeptuses right next to it. Al Haitham has never seen another house with this many books (apart from his own). In fact, most of her living room floor is covered in them, ripped from their bookshelves which lay not too far away from them.Â
It must have taken her years to collect this many books. He's impressed that she managed to keep them all hidden all this time.
"I'll be fine, really," her voice strains as she reaches for another book. "Thank you for helping me back! And for everything else."Â
Al Haitham's moving before he knows it. One second he's standing up, looking down at her picking up her books. The next, he's dropping his overnight bag and squatting down, grabbing her book for her.
"Oh! Thank you."
"You need to rest your ankle," Al Haitham states, reaching over to take the book already in her hands. "Stand up."Â
Moving over to her, he gestures for her to sling an arm over him before standing up with her.
"There's no way you're going to be able to clean up this mess," he unslings her hand gently before walking over to her overturned couch. "I'll help."
"Ah! It's fine," she hobbles over to him, but he's already flipped her couch over. "You must be busy. I can-"
"It's lunchtime now. Everyone's on break."Â
"Then you should be taking a break too!"
"I've already done so on the boat."
"Well, what about your lunch? I didn't see you eat anything."
"I had a heavy breakfast."
"That's not lunch."
"Sit down and rest your ankle."
"Hey! Did you hear what I just said?"
Despite your protests, you're grateful you won't have to clean up this mess alone.
"How do you arrange your books?" Al Haitham asks as he lifts your last toppled bookshelf back upright. "By topic? Height?" He then shoots you a wary glance. "âŠColour?"
"Topic, then by height," you reply, feeling slightly useless as you sit on the couch with a newly bandaged ankle (courtesy of Al Haitham). "Wait, colour? Do people do that?"
"You'll be surprised," he chuckles, and you see his shoulders relax. "There exists a certain individual that insists on making it their personal mission to convince others to arrange their bookshelves that way purely 'for the aesthetic'," he picks up a red book off the floor, running a hand over the slightly dented cover. "You have a lot of books here."
"Do⊠you find it strange?" you ask meekly. You wouldn't be surprised if he did. Hardly anyone in Sumeru used books, much less kept them thanks to the (recently abolished) Personal Book Act. This wouldn't be the first time a visitor judges you about it.
"Not at all," Al Haitham replies, flipping through the book gently. "I'm just surprised that you read," he stops at a folded page. "Almost no one reads in Sumeru. Not even Akademiya scholars. All they relied on was the Akasha terminals."
He balances the book in a hand and shuts it.
"I'm impressed that you managed to get your hands on this many. The Akademiya doesn't print any books. And there aren't any bookstores in Sumeru."
He passes the red book to you, and you swear his lips curve upwards for a fraction of a second.
"It's well written, but the author gives no evidence to back up his hypothesis. It's pure speculation on his part."
"You've read this before?"
"It's a title in the House of Daena," he explains, bending down to pick up another book and reading its title. "Although it's better off as a storybook."
"The House of Daena has books about Liyue?" you ask. The book in your hands is a Liyue publication which took you many pains to obtain. If there's an easier way to get access to such books-
"Definitely," he seems intrigued by your enthusiasm. "Many darshans' studies involve learning about other cultures and regions. So, books on such topics would be provided. Although whether the students want to read them is a different story."
So they'll have books about Liyue Law! You haven't been able to get your hands on any thus far.
He picks up a few more books off the floor and places them on a bookshelf nearest to him.
"You have a lot of books on Law. And Liyue."
"Ah! Yeah," his observation shocks you back into reality. "IâŠactually wanted to study in Liyue's Law School."
"Wanted?"
"Well, you know," he turns to look at you, and you look away. You know you won't be able to control the disappointment written all over your face if you talk about this. "Times aren't exactly the best now. Money is tight right now, with inflation and all. SoâŠ"
"I see."
"Yeah," you sigh and quickly plaster a smile, as you turn back to him. "But it's alright. I can still read about it! There are many more books in the House of Daena, so I'll borrow them!"
"âŠYou can only borrow books if you're a student or teacher at the Akademiya."
"Oh."
It takes Al Haitham about an hour to finally get all the books off the ground and into a somewhat orderly manner. The floor is much more empty now, save for shards of glass and foodstuff amongst overturned furniture. Al Haitham knows that the Matra are thorough in their investigations, but wrecking a house to such an extent in search of evidence is seriously going overboard.
He's going to have a long talk with the Matra stationed at Port Ormos when he gets there.
"Here?" Al Haitham asks the lady standing next to him. She's insisted on helping, against his protests. Eventually, they came to a compromise- he'll carry and arrange the books, and she'll point out where to put everything.
"Yep! These few are fine- ok, switch those two," she instructs. "Everything else is in order. Thank you!"
"Where's the broom?" Al Haitham asks, kicking a shard of glass away from her. "There's glass everywhere."
"It must be the bottle of Harra Spice I bought," she hobbles past the dining table over to the kitchen, Al Haitham following closely behind her. "I bought some groceries the day before I got arrested. I left it on the dining table and⊠forgot to unpack it."
She didn't forget. Al Haitham takes the opportunity to quickly pick up the chairs and push them under the table, which she thanks him for. She was taking care of me and didn't have the time to put it away.
They both ignore the splinters of wood that fall out when he moves the chairs.
"I'm sorry about this whole mess," Al Haitham sighs. It doesn't matter how he tries to reason with himself. No matter what, this whole situation is his fault. And it leaves a really bad taste in his mouth that she's the one paying the price for it. "I'll be sure to pay for whatever damages there are."
"None of this is your fault," she quickly retorts, grabbing the broom's handleâŠwhich immediately detaches from the broom's head. "And like I said," she reaches for the broom head, but Al Haitham beats her to it, taking the handle from her as well. "I've been thinking about rearranging the place anyway!"
Yeah. Rearranging, not refurbishing. Past her shoulder, he sees the wrecked kitchen. And shards of broken tableware among other objects sprinkled all over the floor. She's going to need to replace a lot of things.
"Still, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you-"
"If you really want to make it up to me, take care of yourself and don't faint in front of a random person's house again!"
"I'll do my best."
"IsâŠthat a yes or a no?" her head tilts as she frowns, eyeing him puzzledly. "And wait! Do your best to not do that or to do that?"
And out of nowhere, Al Haitham feels the sudden urge to 'push it', as Kaveh call it. Just to see how she'll react. For research purposes.
"Celestia wills the movement of the mountain and hills." he recites an old rhyme while observing her increasingly perplexed expression with great interest. The rhyme was just his grandmother's way of saying that no one knew what the future held- except fate.
"âŠwhat?"
"May the stars align your wish alongside their plans."
"???"
The good news is that cleaning your kitchen didn't take very long. The bad news is that you pretty much have to buy a new set of almost everything for your kitchen.
No, you're not joking. All you could do was grab things off the floor and counter and throw them into the bin. It hadn't taken long for you to realise that the Matra had destroyed almost everything, save for your stove and sink, a dented, but still usable pot, a single onion and a small bottle of oil.
Nothing else was spared. Not your tableware. Not your bottles of sauce. Not any of your newly bought ingredients. And most definitely not your bottle of Harra spice.
"This should be the last of it," Al Haitham re-enters the kitchen with a fully filled dustpan. "You need any help in here?"
"No, I'm done here," you groan. The Matra had destroyed all your groceries for the week. Do you even have enough Mora to buy food again this week? "Squeaky clean!"
"âŠand empty."
"Don't remind me," you grumble, sitting on the counter. "How did they break so many plates? It's not even fragile! It's made of wood!"
"A hidden ability of overzealous and bored Matra, I suppose," Al Haitham says as he dumps the contents of the dustpan into your overflowing bin. "Is there anything else?"
"No, just my room. I'll settle that myself," you answer. Rubbing at your bandaged ankle, you sigh, leaning your head against the overhead cabinet. "Thank you for your help, really. I wouldn't have been able to clean this all on my own."
"It's no problem. How does your ankle feel?"
"It's alright. Doesn't hurt too much."
"That's good. Elevate it when you can."
"I will."
A peaceful silence washes over the two of you as you finally get some rest after cleaning the entire house. But all that's interrupted when your stomach suddenly rumbles.
Oh, Archons.Â
"IâŠI'm so sorry."
"Well, it is a little bit past lunchtime. How are you settling lunch?"
"I have an onion."
"Sorry?"
"I have oil too."
"You're going to eat an onion?"
"I gotta," you grip the onion in your hands. "But all my knives are broken, so I can't dice it."
"Can't you go out to buy some ingredients?" Al Haitham looks a little concerned. "You don't need to eat the onion."
"The only person who sells groceries these days is Bahram," you begin peeling the onion. "But he closes shop early. He should be closed right now."
"So, how are you planning on eating thisâŠonion?"
"I'll try to fry it."
"You're just going to toss that whole sphere of onion onto a pan?"
"Well, I don't have a pan anymore so I'll use my pot," you grab your pot and place it over the stove. "Hopefully, it won't roll out."
"Now, hold on. Don't do that."
"I mean the other alternative is eating it raw, but-"
"Use this."
"Hm?" you pour some oil into the pot before turning to him. "What the he-"
"Calm down. You're going to spill the oil onto the floor."
"Where did that come from?!"
"From me."
Before you is a beautiful green blade, rounded by a white and gold spine. A majestic aura surrounds it- as if it belongs to a higher being. It almost looks too holy to touch.
"Here. Use it to dice the onion."
HUH.
"Waitjustholdonasecond," your words jumble as you struggle to understand his request. "You want me to take your fancy blade and use it to cut the onion?"
"Yes," he pushes the blade further towards you. "Go on."
"You can't be serious. I can't do that to your sword!"
"If it's hygiene you're worried about, I assure you that-"
"No, it's not that!" honestly, it kind of scares you how hygiene isn't your main concern here. "Your sword! I can't cut an onion with your sword! What if I break it?"
"If my sword breaks from cutting an onion, I wouldn't carry it around."
"You carry it around? Where? I didn't see- ok, I'm going off-topic," you sigh. "Are you sure I can use it? It looks really expensive and I don't wanna, uh, desecrate it."
"It's a sword. It's meant for cutting things," he takes the onion from you and slices it into two before handing it over to you. "You're using it as intended. I don't see the problem."
"If you say soâŠ" he lets the blade go into your hands, and you jerk at the sudden weight. "Oh- Archons, how do you carry this?"
"You alright there?"
"Yep, yep, I- I'll be fine!"
Your onions end up more chunky than usual, but you'll take it.
You heat up the oil (after trying to squeeze out every last drop of oil from the small bottle) and gently add in the onions later. The sounds of sizzling oil fill the kitchen, and you happily take in the scent emitting from the pot. After a while, you feel that it's time to stir it around so you-
Wait. How are you gonna stir it?
"Uh oh," you grab the handle of the pot, tilting it from one end to the other. But it's no use. The onions aren't flipping over. "Oh no."
"Hm?"
"I forgot I don't have a spatula. I can't flip it."
"Use the sword."
"I- fine. Use the sword."
The final product looks better than you expected. Golden brown onions lay on top of each other inside the pot and your mouth waters at the sight.
"You'll have to wait till the pot cools down a little," Al Haitham cautions as he places the pot on the dining table. "Or else you'll burn your hand when you reach in for a slice."
"Haha, no."
"Hey! What did I just say-"
You really can't help yourself. You're too hungry. Reaching into the pipping hot pot, you pinch a piece of onion and quickly toss it into your mouth.
"Ah- hwot-"
"Unbelievable."
"Take- a slice!" you say between blowing out hot air. "It tastes pretty good! Must be the fancy sword flavour."
"I'll take one when it cools down a little. So I don't burn my fingers and the roof of my mouth."
"Suit yourself."
And the two of you fall into another cycle of silence- this time only interrupted by the sound of you blowing out hot air and Al Haitham scoffing at the display before him. Eventually, the pot cools down, and he takes up your offer and grabs a piece.
"What do you think? Pretty good, right?"
"It's good."
"That's all you have to say about the onions your sword painstakingly chopped?" you hold your chest in fake shock. "How dare you, good sir!"
"Well, my sword seems happy enough," he plays along, reaching a hand out. In an instant, the blade materialises. "I don't see any dissatisfaction from it."
"Woah!"
And then the blade disappears. And his hand is again as empty as your kitchen is.
"How did you do that?"
"Do what? Keep my sword?"
"Yeah! And make it reappear!"
"WellâŠ"
The rest of your meal is spent happily chatting and making the poor man materialise and keep his blade over, and over again.
As selfish as it sounds, you don't want him to go. Because the moment he does, you'll be alone in Vimara Village, with nothing but rumours to keep you company.
But he has a job to do- an important one, at that. He's Sumeru's Acting Grand Sage. He's not a friend.
"I think it's about time I take my leave," he finally says, snapping you out of your train of thought. Standing up from his shaky chair, he grabs his overnight bag. "Thank you for your hospitality."
"Not at all," you reply, slowly standing from your chair as well. "I'm sorry that I couldn't host you under better circumstances."
"Would you happen to know where a certain Dilawar lives?" he asks. "I was told that he lives here."
Ah, so that's why he's here.
"Mr Dilawar lives not too far from here. Just head upwards from here and stop at the second house from the bridge," you answer. "Are⊠you here to fix Port Ormos?"
"Yes," he replies. "The closure of the port is not a problem I can ignore. Discussing the current state and future of the port with the trade supervisors is a crucial step in fixing the problem."
"Well, if you're on the case, then there's nothing for us common folk to worry about," you let out a relieved sigh. "With you as the Acting Grand Sage, Sumeru is in good hands."
"âŠThank you."
You walk him to your front door, and he pauses outside for a moment to look back at you.
"Make sure to rest your ankle."
"I will."
"Keep a look out for any shards of glass on the floor. I may have missed them."
"I highly doubt that, but alright."
"And," he pauses again, looking over at your bookshelves. "Don't give up hope on going to Law school."
"Eh?"
"You must have taken a lot of effort to collect and read through all those books," he says. "It'd be a pity if all that effort went to waste."
He stands a little straighter, looking you in the eye this time.
"This is a temporary issue. Don't let something like that ruin a lifetime of fulfilment."
With that, he turns around.
"Well then, see you."
"Ah! Yeah, see you."
And he walked off.
"Well, you know," she doesn't turn away fast enough for Al Haitham to miss that crushed expression of hers. "Times aren't exactly the best now. Money is tight right now, with inflation and all. SoâŠ"
"I see."
So, it's a money issue. The reason that she's giving up her dream is because of money.
Like hell he's going to let that happen.
He'll solve it. He'll fix Sumeru's entire economy. He'll force the port open with his own two hands.
Hi everyone! funeral-grey here! I'd just like to take a moment to thank everyone for all your support for my series! I'm a bad writer, but all your support has really pushed me forward! I'll do my best to improve!
You may have seen by now that 'Tangents (Simon Riley x F!Reader)' is currently on hiatus. It'll probably be on hiatus till i'm done with 'All for a flicker in time' series, which is gonna be a long time.
Speaking of that, the next update of 'Here, and now' won't be so soon (at best, 20 march)! I'm currently doing quite a bit of arc planning for Port Ormos- and since this is the arc where things really kick off, i want it to be solid. 'All for a flicker in time' is gonna be a long story, so I want a really good foundation for the very first arc.
Summary: What do they have to say about everything that has happened so far?
Author's note: i tried. may come back to re-edit Kaveh's part after we get his actual voice lines!
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
Al Haitham: As the Acting Grand Sage
"I'm not entertaining any questions right now. I'm off the clock now, and-
âŠI'm doing a good job, you say? Well thank you, I suppose. Goodbye."
Al Haitham: Meeting her
"Oh? I'm surprised you know about her. She's from Vimara Village, and I came across her during a business trip.
...is there anything else...or?"
Al Haitham: About her
"I didn't meet her under the best of circumstances. But she treated me kindly- almost too kindly. It would be wise for her to be more cautious of others in the future. After all, letting an unknown person into your home for the night is dangerous."
Kaveh: Keys
"I recently made an adorable keychain! Not only is it cute, it'll also make sure that Al Haitham doesn't "mix up our keys" again, or "accidently take both". Again. Wanna see it? So, I originally thought of using Karmaphala wood to- huh? Wait, huh!? Where are my keys?!"
Kaveh: Meeting her
"Ah! Yes, her! Now, how we met isn't so important, but what is, is this! You see that, huh? Never thought Al Haitham could be reduced to a blushing mess! Because of her! And I got it all on kamera!"
Kaveh: About her
"Well frankly, I've not known her for long. And as far as I'm concerned, I'll probably never see her again. But! She seems like a calm, patient soul- especially if she could deal with Al Haitham. Did you know she cared for him when he passed out? For an entire night? An entire night! Most people can't even stand him for more than a minute once he starts running that mouth of his! Also, did you know she was able to make him listen to her?! Archons, she made the most stubborn man in Sumeru bend to her will! Oh, the things I'd do to get a fraction of her power... maybe then Al Haitham would finally listen to me and...(Kaveh goes on, and on...)"
Cyno: Work
"The fall of the sages and the termination of Akasha terminals have resulted in a lack of research projects. As such, there isn't much for the Matra to do, since most students aren't working on anything now. But, we must remain vigilant. There's no saying what trouble bored Akademiya students can get themselves into."
Cyno: Meeting her
"Kaveh and I met her on board a ship back to Sumeru City, where she was under arrest on suspicion for kidnapping Al Haitham. In the end we let her go, as it turns out that it was all just a misunderstanding. *Sigh* I've already apologised many times for the whole situation, but I still feel a little guilty about having her arrested."
Cyno: About her
"I told her a joke over the dinner table just the other night. She did not understand it at first, but she listened attentively to my explanation. It's a little strange to have someone listen so patiently to me without being intimidated by my presence, or asking me to stop. It's... a refreshing feeling. Unfortunately, it is unlikely that our paths will cross again."
Author's note: I'd imagine that it'd take about a week or so for letters to get sent from Sumeru and Liyue, since they're pretty close.
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
Masterlist
To: Kaveh - It's nice here in Liyue.
From: Kaveh
Finally! I was wondering if you'd ever write back. I thought you've forgotten all about me after heading to Liyue. You can make it up to me by sending back some of Liyue's famous Osmanthus wine!
Anyway, I'm glad to hear back from you. I know it's only been about a month since you left, but everyone back home misses you. Especially Al Haitham (not that he'd admit it- but it's so obvious). Nowadays, he sorts through our mail for us, neatly arranging who's is who's. "Just making sure the mail is posted to the correct house," he'll say. "It'll be a hassle if we have to return it to the post office."
Yeah right. Clearly, he's looks through our mail just to see if there's anything from you. Of course, he's trying to be subtle about it, but he's not as sneaky as he thinks he is (don't tell him I told you about this. Burn this letter after you read it). You should have seen the look on his face this morning when he saw your letter this morning- his face lit up! âŠAnd then he saw that it was addressed to me and immediately went back to being gloomy. Yes, gloomy. He has been like that ever since you left. Hard to believe the ever stoic Al Haitham acting like that.
Whatever, no more Al Haitham talk. I'm sure that when he gets your letter he'll be back to normal. Let's talk about you!
Have you found a place to stay yet? Are you eating well? Make sure to strike a healthy balance between studying and resting! Actually, be like Al Haitham! As much as it's annoying that he'd shut off immediately after office hours, it's a pretty good way to ensure you get enough rest (we'll just pretend that he did the same during his acting grand sage days). That being said, if there's anything we can help with from Sumeru, please tell us!
Yes! Traditional Liyue architecture truly is beautiful. I would love to visit in person one of these days. I actually was invited to give a talk back at their architecture school a few years back, but I couldn't make it in the end. A pity, but I'm sure that I'll have many other opportunities to visit in the future! Plus, now I'll have you to guide me around!
Ha, good luck with carrying all those books around. I didn't carry books back as a student, but I had to carry models, materials, drawing equipment... it was not fun. But hey, it really did train my arms. I'm pretty sure this is the reason I could pick up my claymore when I first started training with it. What do you say? Drop the sword and join the claymore group!
Anyway, the post officers will be collecting mail soon. I'll end here! If they collect this letter today... you should receive it in about a week!
Take care, alright?
Miss you,
Kaveh :)
*Oh right, speaking of which, I wonder where his letter went? I mean, you must have sent one for him as well. Just informing you- it hasn't arrived. Maybe you posted our letters on different days? Anyway, hopefully it comes soon. He seems pretty down these days, although the rest don't notice it. But I do, and I'm sure that if you were here, you would too.
Prequel Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Extra 1 Part 5 Masterlist
Summary: The Grand Bazaar receives an unexpected visitor on a rainy night.
Warnings: explanation about periods including parts of the female anatomy, period shaming, misogyny, mentions of sanitary pads and tampons, female anatomy, rain, mentions of pooling rainwater,
Word count: <2.4k words
Inspired by:-
Author's note: yea, i've seen a lot of people being ashamed of their periods. and a lot of men who make fun of people on their periods, saying mean stuff. I hope i write it in a way that's ok and easy to understand i hope it isn't too ooc too
if i wrote anything regarding this wrongly do tell me!
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
The Grand Bazaar has a big problem when it rains.
For some context, the Grand Bazaar is underground. To enter, you go through one of the three tunnels, which begin above ground along Treasures street.
So, unfortunately, when it rains, these tunnels end up as a drain, leading rainwater to pool in the Grand Bazaar. To make things worse, the Grand Bazaar isn't an open-air area. This makes the place unbearably humid when rainwater pools.
Alas, today is one of these days. Outside, the rain pours. And once again, the tunnels serve as the city's drain. The wooden doors at the end of the tunnel are powerless to stop the flowing rainwater, leading to a stream of it once again spilling all over the floors of the Grand Bazaar.
People of the Grand Bazaar have been petitioning for years for the Akademiya to solve this problem but to no avail. The best the Akademiya did was install a small step at the entrance of the tunnels, which was wholly useless. At best, it only served to trip unsuspecting guests on their way in.
It wasn't a secret. The Akademiya hated the Grand Bazaar and what it represented. They thought the arts were a useless endeavour- a distraction from the pursuit of knowledge. So, they tried everything to get rid of them. Banning public performances, threatening to shut down the theatre, you name it, they've tried it.
But things have changed now. Ever since Nilou's performance at the Akademiya plaza and the whole scandal at the Akademiya, the attitude towards them has improved. Restrictions on the arts have been lifted, and old laws regarding performances have been abolished. Things are really looking up for artists and the Grand Bazaar.
"Maybe it's time we tried asking the Akademiya again," groaned Afshin as he carried his wares away from the door and the incoming rainwater. Afshin's stall, regrettably, is right next to one of the entrances of the Grand Bazaar. "A simple gutter. That is all we want."
Nilou can only sigh at his statement. Mr Afshin isn't wrong, but asking the Akademiya for help is scary. They have been eerily quiet about matters regarding the arts as of late- not imposing rules and restrictions, but not expressing their support either.
"We shouldn't!" retorts Jut. "Let's not bring any attention to ourselves. It's already a blessing that they've gotten off our backs."
"But that's precisely why we should be asking! We should strike while the iron is hot! Who knows when they will decide to impose all those rules again?"
"But what if they decide to do so after we ask? What if they think we're a thorn in their side by asking again?" Jut argues as the two make their way to the stage with large boxes in hand.
The stage is the only place safe from rainwater on days like this. Everywhere else, rainwater will pool, destroying produce and wares. In the past, the moment it rained, losses were inevitable, as merchants could not move their wares away fast enough. But ever since Nilou received her Hydro vision, this didn't become such a big deal anymore. She'll hold back the water until everyone finishes loading their wares onto the stage before letting to water flow naturally into the bazaar. Then when the rain stops, she'll guide all the water into a nearby river. This is the usual procedure for rainy days.
After the last merchant loads their ware onto the stage, Nilou relaxes her hands, letting the water burst through the flimsy wooden doors. Muddy water fills the bazaar, and Nilou sighs again. Clean-up is going to be painful, especially since the rain is much heavier than usual today.
Everyone working in the Grand Bazaar congregates on stage, using the high ground to escape the flooded floor. Nothing unusual from rainy day procedure. Everyone will sit around the stage, complaining about closing their shops early, chatting, or eating snacks. Or, more commonly now, debating whether to ask the Akademiya for help again.
It's just another rainy day. And rainy day procedure was carried out. No one is expecting anything. There's nothing to expect. No customers, no deliveries, no audiences.
That was until a splashing sound was heard from off the stage, followed by a string of curses.
"Hey! What are you doing? It's flooded down there!" Afshin suddenly exclaims. In an instant, everyone's head perked up, turning towards him.
Worried that someone was stuck in the water (although it's barely knee-deep), Nilou immediately puts down her slice of Tachin, bolting to the edge of the stage. Looking in Mr Afshin's direction, she sees-
"Mr Al Haitham?" to say Nilou is shocked is an understatement. Gently parting the water so that he has a clear path to the stage, she continues. "What are you doing here?"
Al Haitham hurries over to the stage, muttering a quick thanks under his breath. By now, everybody on stage has gathered around, watching the unexpected visitor walk up the slope.
"It seems that I've come at an inconvenient time," Al Haitham states, glancing down at his dirty boots in discomfort before looking around. "And it seems that all shops are closed for the day."
"You're drenched! Quick, someone get him a towel!" Someone calls out.
"No need," Al Haitham shoots back. "I'll be heading off now."
And then he turns and begins walking off the stage, leaving everyone stunned.
He's just gonna leave like that?
"Wait!" Nilou finally calls out. He stops in his tracks and looks back at the dancer. "Is there something you need?"
"Well, if all the shops are closed-"
"Now, hold on a second!" Now Jut speaks up. "All our stuff is here! We can still sell you things!"
Some merchants murmur in agreement as they stand up and walk over to their wares.
"You've already walked through muddy water," Afshin says as he pulls out his items from a box. "Whatever it is you're finding must have been important."
Al Haitham looks away for a moment before turning back to the stage. Walking towards the preparing merchants, he glances at their wares.
"I just need clothes-"
Immediately, the merchants begin showing him what they have. Perhaps because of the lack of customers today, everyone seems more enthusiastic than usual.
"I'll sell this to you for a thousand- no, eight hundred Mora!"
"Don't listen to him! I'll give you this and that for eight hundred Mora!"
"I don't need-"
"You said you wanted a shirt, right?"
"Not in that size, smaller-"
"Five hundred Mora for you, sir!"
"Now, hold on-"
Al Haitham is surrounded by hopeful merchants pushing items into his hands, yelling prices into his ear. It's clearly an uncomfortable position to be in. Nilou decides to step in when she sees Jut drop a bottle of spice all over Al Haitham.
"Let's not overwhelm him, everyone!" Nilou declares. "Let's all calm down, ok?"
Right away, the merchants sheepishly back away from the man, who is now holding back a sneeze. Gathering Hydro, Nilou sends a bubble of water towards the spice-covered man, who eagerly uses it to wash off the spice.
"As I was saying," Al Haitham sighs, washing off the spice on his arms over the edge of the stage. "I only need clothes. Sleepwear, preferably. And toiletries. Not textiles, not toys," He turns to glare at Jut. "And most definitely not spices."
With that, some merchants go quiet and head back to their crates. Others stand in a neat row, offering items to the stern man one at a time.
"You mentioned you needed sleepwear? I have some here," the first merchant offers. "Two thousand Mora a set."
"That's fine," Al Haitham looks over the clothes. "Do you have it in a smaller size?"
"No, sir," the merchant replies. "Unfortunately, this is my last set."
"I'll take it."
Slowly, Al Haitham goes down the line, buying items. Sleepwear, snacks, room slippers, and then finally, toiletries.
"I'll also need sanitary pads or tampons as well."
"Eh?!" the last merchant exclaims. "Why would you need- I-"
"âŠDo you have it or not?"
"I do! It's just that- does your wife have no shame, sir? Making you buy her personal items?" the male merchant begins his rant.
"âŠExcuse me?"
"No need to explain, sir! I totally understand! My daughter does the same," the merchant continues, unaware of the glares everyone is currently shooting at him. "She complains that she's in pain or that she can't stand up for too long. But we all know it's just an excuse to skip out on work. Women, right? Such dramatic creatures."
The whole stage is silent, save for the sound of water flowing through the doors.
Now, Al Haitham isn't one to argue with others over a difference in opinion. It takes up too much time and energy. But this? He isn't going to let this slide.
"Wow, sir," Al Haitham begins, controlling his tone. But the sarcasm still slips through. "You clearly respect women."
"Well, I do have a wife and daughter! And I was supposed to study in Amurta-"
"Yet you still don't bother to learn how their bodies work," Al Haitham edges closer to the man. "Or perhaps you refuse to. Truly a disgrace to the nation of wisdom. And to all men."
"Why you-"
"Now, since clearly, no one has been able to stand your presence long enough to educate you, I will," Al Haitham is seething now. "You will hold all questions if any, until I'm done."
"Wha-"
"Periods are a natural, biological process that those born with a uterus undergo every month," Al Haitham begins, ignoring the merchant's sound of protest. "During this time, the uterine lining sheds and is passed out through the vagina."
The merchant's face goes completely red.
"Now, why are you so embarrassed?" Al Haitham asks with poorly concealed fury. "Those are just body parts. That also happens to be possessed by your supposedly beloved daughter and wife, no?"
The merchant does not respond. All around, other merchants and theatre workers murmur amongst themselves.
"Now, during one's period, it is not uncommon for muscle cramps to occur around the abdomen, back, and tighs," Al Haitham continues. "Other common occurrences are diarrhoea, mood swings, and fatigue, amongst many other things."
"But of course, it is different for anyone who goes through it. I've never experienced it, so I don't claim to understand how it feels- unlike some people," Al Haitham shoots him a death glare. "Neither do I claim that those who experience periods are faking discomfort because I believe in science and care about the wellbeing of the people around me. Unlike some people."
Al Haitham takes another step towards the merchant, nearly backing him up against the wall of the stage.
"Now, Mr Almost-Amurta, surely you trust science as well?" Al Haitham whispers. "Surely, you care about the women in your family?"
The merchant doesn't answer. He looks down at his feet, perhaps hoping that a hole will swallow him up and save him from the fuming man before him.
"I asked you a question."
"Yes! Yes, I do!"
"Then why," Al Haitham presses on. "Did you say such horrible and untrue things about them? Surely, you must know what they go through. Why the misogyny?"
"I'm not-"
"So shaming them about their period symptoms, which is something out of their control, and assuming that they use it as an excuse is not misogyny," Al Haitham rolls his eyes. "What else have you considered 'not misogyny' in your eyes?"
The man opens his mouth before closing it again. He's clearly at a loss for words.
"I suggest you grow up," Al Haitham tosses a bag of Mora at him before snatching his bag of items out of his hand. "And perhaps learn to listen to the struggles of those around you. Especially those you claim you care about. You don't need to be able to solve their problems. Just don't add to them."
With that, Al Haitham gathers his items, trying to fit everything in one bag.
"If you have any questions, I suggest you ask the women around you. Perhaps learn to listen to them. Archon knows you need to."
And off he went, walking off the stage with an astonished Nilou rushing behind him.
"Ah! Mr Al Haitham! Wait!"
"Yes?"Â
Al Haitham has a foot in the water before Nilou helps him clear a path.
"Ah, thank you."
"Mr Al Haitham, just now...with Mr Zar," Nilou doesn't really know what to say. "Um..."
"So his name is Zar." Al Haitham prompts her to walk with him. "Has he given you all trouble before?"
"Well, no," Nilou stutters out. "We never knew he was like that. He's usually so kind, I..."
"Well, now you know. I'll leave the rest up to you all then," Al Haitham replies. Looking at the water around them, he continues. "Does flooding like this happen often?"
"Only when it rains. Usually, it isn't this bad."
"The heavy rain?"
"Yeah. It's usually ankle-deep at worse. Today is bad."
"I see."
They reach the wooden doors, and Al Haitham reaches out to open them. The rotting wood doesn't escape his sight.
"I'll be fine from here."
"Ah, the rain is still so heavy. I can walk you to your destination!"
"No need," Al Haitham states. "You should head back to the rest. And your Tachin."
"Ah, so you saw that."
"Your concern for others is touching," Al Haitham replies, taking a step up the slope. "I'll take my leave."
"Watch your step! It's slippery!"
"I will."
"Bye!"
Nilou watches the man leave the tunnel before turning back and making her way back to the stage. Preparing herself for the awkward atmosphere that she'll be facing in the next couple of seconds, a question suddenly pops into her mind.
Huh, she wonders, as she hears shouts of disapproval from the stage, I wonder who he's buying all those stuff for?
Oh, she'll find out soon enough.Â
She, alongside many others, will have front-row seats to this new romance play that is currently showing. It'll be nothing like the usual romance plays Zubayr Theather shows on Tuesdays.
the conversation between imaginary kaveh and alhaitham was really funny and clever! i loved it! i really like this series and the way you write, very good work :D
Thank you so much!!! I was really worried that that part would be weird.
Prequel Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Extra 1 Masterlist
Summary: now that all that's settled, it's time to head back to vimara village. (all hail imaginary kaveh)
Warnings: mentions of medicine, the meat industry and its processes, economics macro and micro, boat travel, awkwardness, denial, internal battles, vulgarities, mild injuries (sprained ankle), carrying, mentions of sanitary pads, ect, spying on friends .
Word count: <4.3k words
Inspired by: Telephone - Waterparks
"I know we only just met, so why do I feel invested?"
Author's note: i had to dig out all my economics knowledge for this lol. i still almost failed econs so just pretend that i make total sense for the sake of the story pls. Also, i may come back and mass re edit this.
Thank you for all the lovely comments for part 3! it really made my day! i'm sorry if this part isnt as good as the rest! I tried
Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!
Out of all the issues Al Haitham has to deal with, Port Ormos is the most pressing and the source of many other problems.
No trade means no business. No business means no jobs. No jobs mean no work, which means no income for both Sumeru and the people. And especially since Port Ormos is Sumeru's main port, national income has taken a hard hit. Akademiya economists have been sending him report after report about their concerns about Sumeru's economic forecast. It does not look good.
In addition, no trade means that Sumeru doesn't get new resources anymore. While Sumeru is mostly self-sufficient food-wise, many resources still cannot be obtained locally- or are mostly imported. And since Port Ormos is both Sumeru's largest and main port, lots of imports are not coming in anymore.
For example, there's currently a national shortage of cold medicines, which Sumeru usually imports from Snezhnaya. Particularly during monsoon seasons, cases of colds, dengue fever and the flu increase amongst the population. But Snezhnayan traders and businesses have pulled away from Sumeru after the Akademiya scandal. Bimarstan had gotten so desperate for cold medicine that it had begun asking locals to donate their leftover medicine. To ease the burden on the Bimarstan, Al Haitham had ordered Amurta to help mass manufacture medicines. However, this is only a stopgap measure. He needs to find a way to solve the root cause of the problem.
Furthermore, inflation has been a growing issue. The situation isn't so bad in Sumeru city, as its tiny port is still running- albeit not as smoothly or vibrantly as it used to. But in other parts of Sumeru, it's a whole different story.Â
Everything is connected in a way. Just because Sumeru isn't reliant on imports for food doesn't mean food prices are not affected by the lack of other resources. For example, to produce fowl meat, you'll need a few things:
Either machinery (mostly from Fontaine) or workers to slaughter the fowl.
Appropriate packaging to pack the fowl meat.
Transport to carry your produce to marketplaces throughout Sumeru.
In this case, most issues lie with step one. Most farmers in Sumeru had taken to using Fontaine machinery to mass slaughter poultry. It was much cheaper than hiring workers and way more efficient. The only trade-off was that these machines ran on a specific type of oil that only is sold in Fontaine. So, manufacturers would sell the oil alongside it.Â
But now, Fontaine traders and businesses are gradually pulling away from Sumeru. That means a lesser supply of oil, which means a decrease in the supply of fowl since machines are not able or cost more to run. A shortage means that prices go up. People buy less or cannot afford fowl at all. Farmers make less money, which prevents them from hiring more workers (or results in them letting go of workers if they don't use machinery) to increase the fowl supply. A case of cost-push inflation, similar to other case studies Al Haitham has read up on.
This is just one example out of many. The inflation and unemployment rate are growing. Adding everything up, including the current political climate, Sumeru is becoming less and less attractive to traders and businesses, causing them to pull away, worsening the Sumeru economy. It's a vicious cycle that Al Haitham needs to break.
If Al Haitham had to list all the issues Port Ormos has caused him, he'd be able to write himself all the way to an economic degree. Which he'll be able to sign off, now that he thinks about it. He's the Acting Grand Sage. He'll announce his own name. Present the degree to himself. Shake his own hand.
But anyway, the main point is that if he's able to revitalise Port Ormos, many other issues will resolve themselves. He had finally had a lucky break that Thursday and was free to head to Port Ormos to speak to the trade supervisors. But then, of course, stuff happened, and he wasn't able to do all that.
Which is why he's heading back to Vimara village again today. He specifically worked through the entire night in his cold office, wet clothes clinging uncomfortably on his body just so he could make time today for this. This time, he's going to make sure he speaks to the trade supervisors and settle this once and for all. He's ready to negotiate to hell and back to ensure the port reopens.
No surprises today, he'll make sure of it.
"Oh! You're heading back to Vimara Village?"
Well. Never mind, then.
The rising heat only hits the moment he walks out of the tavern.Â
Treasures Street is empty tonight because of the heavy rain. Shops have closed early- the only exception being the tavern. But even so, Al Haitham feels too exposed. He doesn't feel cold anymore. The heat blooming in his cheeks and all over him makes sure of that.
Al Haitham quickens his pace. There's still a long walk to the Akademiya. The faster he gets there, the more time he'll have to finish whatever he has to do.Â
The faster he gets there, the less time he'll have to think about what just happened.
Let's review.Â
First of all, he fainted. Presumably right in front or around her house- so that's how she found him. Fine. He can't fault himself for that. He had been running on less than three hours of sleep that week. The cherry on top had been that four-hour trek he had to do on top of that. He was exhausted. The human body has its limits.Â
But then he woke up and bawled his eyes out like a baby. In front of her. A total stranger. She pushed a bowl of the best meal he ever had (and his only meal in two days) into his face, and he cried. He cried so much that he passed out. Again. Until the following evening.Â
It takes a lot of willpower from Al Haitham to not squat down and cringe in the middle of the street.Â
Archons, he's pathetic.Â
His cheeks burn, and he instinctively moves a hand to cover his face. The movement is accompanied by a crumpling sound, which reminds him of the snack he was given before he left the tavern.Â
Taking cover under Menakeri's Treasure Shop, he removes the neatly bundled wrap from its paper bag. The rain isn't letting up. He couldn't be more drenched, but thankfully, the wrap is still dry- courtesy of the paper bag he took from Lambad's counter.
The wrap is still warm, and he curses when the rainwater on his hand seeps into the napkins. Removing it quickly, he holds the wrap in his hands.Â
Wait. What's he going to do with the wrap?
He should throw it away. It's a terrible waste of food, but he can't afford to eat and feel sleepy later. He has to finish everything and then some, so he'll be free to head back to Vimara village tomorrow.
She held out the bundle with trembling hands.
The wrap suddenly feels heavy. Looking around, he spots a rubbish bin just a step away outside the shop.
She had left her warm, comfortable spot just to make sure he had something to eat.
He should really get going. Throw it away. And then leave for the Akademiya. But his feet refuse to move.
"They're worried about you, you know?"
Why don't you worry about yourself instead?
"Oh! You're heading back to Vimara Village?"
You weren't expecting to see the Acting Grand Sage again. Much less on the ferry Cyno had arranged to bring you back to Vimara village.Â
If the Acting Grand Sage was surprised, he hid it well. Slowly turning to face you, he coolly leans against the railings of the small, wooden ferry. But the piercing sound of creaking wood jolts him back up almost immediately.
"Yes." he hastily answers, turning around to check on the railing, pushing it back and forth, then squatting down and repeating the action.
A curt answer. What are you supposed to say to that? You can't even hum in agreement or find an opening to make small talk before you politely excuse yourself to take a seat inside.Â
The only sound filling the air now is the creaking of wood as he scrutinises the railing. You're not sure what he's checking for- it's just a loose railing, but you admire the dedication nonetheless. A minute passes.Â
An alternative course of action is to simply walk towards the seating area without saying anything else. But he's blocking the entrance. Taking a step forward, you shift closer to gauge how much space you have to move through it.
Nope. No way to pass through at all. His large build completely obstructs the entrance. There's no way to pass without saying anything, and you're not sure what you can say that isn't awkward.Â
"Uh, excuse me. I'm just going to pass- yeah, oh- you don't need to stand, just- sorry."
Yeah, say that, and proceed to simmer in uncomfortable silence with him in the seating area for the next hour and a half.Â
"...You're also heading back to the village?" there's another creak of wood as he shifts it from left to right now.
"Ah! Yes," you reply, eager to stave off the growing awkwardness. "I, uh, live there."Â
He stiffens at your answer and brushes a hand over his face. You see his shoulders slacken as he sighs.
Did...you say something wrong?
If you did, he doesn't comment on it. Finally standing up, he's turning around and-
"I'm just going to head in first!" you blurt out, taking the opportunity to rush past him into the seating area.
But of course, just as you finally get into the seating area, the ship suddenly rocks, throwing you off balance and onto the hard floor.
Al Haitham's face is on fire. It must be because of the new soap he used this morning. Kaveh had pestered him for money to buy that brand, and he had finally caved. Yes, this is all Kaveh's fault.
No, he is not blushing. Why would he be? He isn't ill or feverish. Neither is he embarrassed.
It's just the soap. A mild allergic reaction, perhaps. But he isn't allergic to anything. Perhaps he should book an appointment at Bimarstan to confirm that. Allergies are dangerous.
Why can't he turn around?
There's a loud, rhythmic pulsing in his ear, which strangely is in phase with the beating of his heart. Is that his heartbeat he's hearing? Why is it so loud? And so fast? Also, why is his heart beating so hard?
He knows the answer. He just doesn't want to admit it.
Al Haitham is not embarrassed. Why should he be? It matters not what she thinks of him. She isn't causing him any trouble. She isn't someone he needs to work with. If anything, she is just another person now. She doesn't affect him or his life. To think about her is meaningless. It serves no purpose.
He doesn't care about her. She means nothing. She's just another stranger.Â
Oh, so this is about her, Kaveh's voice rings in his head. You're too embarrassed to face her!Â
Great. Now imaginary Kaveh is here. But, thankfully, logic is Kaveh's worst enemy.Â
And Al Haitham has a lot of logic.
Ok then, Kaveh, Al Haitham shifts the railing with more vigour. Let's say I am embarrassed.Â
You are!
Then what would I be embarrassed about?
Well, about the whole fainting incident! You made a fool of yourself right in front of a total stranger!
So? I'm only a human being. My body has limits that I'm not ashamed of.
You know that's not what I'm talking about.
Oh? Whatever do you mean?
About the whole crying and-
Nope. Al Haitham immediately cuts his internal debate with imaginary Kaveh short. He is not going to think about that now. But of course, you can never stop racing thoughts. Particularly ones provided by imaginary Kaveh.
Don't wanna think about it?
I've already gone through that with myself yesterday.
And what did you find out? That you-
That it was simply tears of relief, Al Haitham lies. In regards to getting good food and rest. A natural human response.
Ha! Yeah right-
Imaginary Kaveh is interrupted once again by the sound of shifting behind Al Haitham. It must be her. Waiting for him to say something back.
Well? Turn around and talk to her!
Why should I?
Unbelievable! Not even going to thank her for helping you?
He knows he should. He wants to. But his voice isn't working. Plus, he can't even turn to face her.
I wonder why.
It's because I'm inspecting the railing. Boats in Sumeru must pass the Sumeru Maritime Port Authorities' safety check, and one of the basic-
It's just a loose railing, and you know it! You're fiddling with it as an excuse to not-
More shifting behind him. What is she trying to do? A quick glance to his left tells him the answer.
Hey, you idiot fungus. You're blocking the entrance to the seating area!
Shit, Kaveh is right. Imaginary Kaveh, that is.
Stand up and move!
Wait. But wouldn't it be weird to just stand up and move? Without saying anything else? That would imply that Al Haitham was paying attention to her but not speaking back. Wouldn't that be strange? Rude, even?
Oh, worrying about weirding her out? And since when have you ever cared about niceties?
Shit, imaginary Kaveh is right. Again. This isn't like him. At all.
Ugh! If you're not going to move, at least say something! You're making her feel uncomfortable!
Say what?! Why don't you suggest something helpful for once?
I don't know? It's your conversation! Not mine! Just ask something! Anything! Before this whole situation becomes too awkward beyond repair!
In a haste, much to imaginary Kaveh and Al Haitham's absolute horror, Al Haitham's mouth decides to go off on its own and ask the most stupid, brain-dead question.
"...You're also heading back to the village?"Â
Oh, Archons.
Al Haitham shifts the railing from left to right. Maybe if he does that enough, by some scientific principle that he has not come across yet, it'll be like a lever, and time would rewind and-
When I said to ask anything, I meant something like "Slept well last night?" or "Were the toiletries I bought for you sufficient?" not whatever you just asked.
"Ah! Yes," she replies. "I, uh, live there."Â
Great. Now she thinks you're an idiot, you idiot.
What kind of question is that? The answer is obvious. So obvious, that Al Haitham feels the need to redeem himself. A prickling sensation on his face spreads from his cheeks all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Al Haitham uses a hand to try to rub it away.
Archons, even asking what her name is would have been a better question than that!
Enough yapping! How can I fix this?
Al Haitham can't believe he's asking Kaveh, even if in imaginary form, for help. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And Kaveh-like problems require Kaveh-like solutions.
Well, start off by actually turning around to talk to her! Even imaginary Kaveh is surprised by his request for advice. Ask her what her name is! That sounds like a good way to kick-start a less awkward conversation. And save this whole interaction.
But I don't want a conversation. I-
Do you want her to feel even more uncomfortable than she probably already is?
With a deep sigh, Al Haitham tries to compose himself. Willing away the heat in his face, he stands back up. His knees ache a little, but he ignores the pain as he turns to face her but-
"I'm just going to head in first!"
And there she goes, bolting towards the now unobstructed entrance, leaving Al Haitham alone on the deck, momentarily stunned by her sudden departure.
She's barely two steps into the seating area when the ship rocks. Al Haitham catches his balance with practised elegance, but unfortunately, the same could not be said for her.
With a loud thud, she crashes into the ground as the boat begins to turn.
"Are you alright?" all earlier thoughts disappear from Al Haitham's mind as worry fills the gaps. Rushing over, he kneels at her side, watching her as she turns around with a hiss.
"It's fine." she winces, turning over before extending both legs.
"Your left ankle is starting to swell," Al Haitham mutters, comparing the size of her ankles through the straps of her sandals. "A sprained ankle."
"Well," She shifts to sit upwards. Leaning over, she takes a closer look at her ankle. "It doesn't look as bad as it feels."
"It may soon if we don't take care of it," Al Haitham shifts closer to her ankle. "May I?"
When she nods, he gently removes her footwear. Looking around the seating area, he frowns as he realises the absence of a first aid kit. That means no cold compresses or bandages.
"We'll have to elevate it," Al Haitham mutters. "Let's move closer to the benches."
"Ah, ok," she kicks her right leg inwards she pushes her weight onto it as she tries to stand. "Well-"
The boat wobbles, and she nearly falls again. , Al Haitham catches hold of her arm, steadying her.
"That isn't going to work," Al Haitham states before she could thank him. "Sit back down."
She does so, giving him a questioning look. Gently moving her legs so that her knees are outstretched and bent, he hooks an arm under her knee and uses the other to support her back as he stands.
"Woah!" her arms begin to flail.
"Calm down," Al Haitham moves his face away from a hand that nearly hits him. "Just- put that arm here."
"Where?"
"Shoulder," he huffs as he bounces her to secure his hold around her. "Hold on."
The boat rocks, but the Acting Grand Sage doesn't seem worried about falling. In fact, he walks on as if he's on flat ground. All while carrying you.
He gently places you down on the floor next to the nearest metal bench before kneeling next to you again.
"I'm just going to put your leg up here," he assists your ankle up on the bench. "Leave your ankle like this."
"Thank you," you murmur. "I'm sorry for the trouble."
He sighs, heading back towards the entrance to retrieve your sandals. You can't look at him as he walks back to you.
This is so embarrassing.
It was bad enough that things were already so awkward. Oh, Archons. You've already made a faux pas earlier at the deck. Now with this? He must be furious.
Then, in a move that proceeded to stun you- and honestly scare you a little he sits down.
On the floor.
All the benches around, and he chooses to sit on the floor with you.
"No need to thank me." the Acting Grand Sage releases another sigh as he relaxes his shoulders, leaning on the side of the bench beside yours.
He then pulls out a book from somewhere behind his cape and begins to read.
"Would youâŠprefer to sit on the bench? I'm sure it's much more comfortable there."
"It's a metal bench. It'll feel just as hard as the floor."
Again, another curt response.
Biting your lip in shame, you feel a heat roll up your cheek.
"Acting Grand Sage, I just want to apologise for-"
"Al Haitham."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"My name," he shuts his book, turning his head to face you now. "It's less of a mouthful compared to that. And you are?"
Name. Yes. You can give that.
You tell him your name, trying your hardest to keep your voice as stable as possible. You really don't want to embarrass yourself further.
He repeats your name with an almost contemplative tone. He said it softly, compared to the surrounding noises of the ship. But it's the only sound that fills your ears.
"You have nothing to apologise for," the Acting Grand Sage- no, Al Haitham says. With yet another sigh, he continues. "It's actually me who has to apologise."
"What do you mean?" you frown. You don't recall him doing anything wrong.
"I," he pauses, placing his book aside as his hand rubs against the back of his neck. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel uncomfortable."
He shifts slightly, fidgeting with the ends of his cape.
"I also have to apologise for getting you into this mess," he goes on. "And for not thanking you for helping me back then."
"There's no need to thank me for that!" you answer. "And there's no need to apologise as well. Everyone has been kind to me. This was all a misunderstanding."
And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. Instead, a soothing silence envelopes the space between the two of you. You finally get the courage to glance at him, and now that you're relaxed, you notice something a little strange about his attire.
He isn't wearing anything different than yesterday. But the cape-
His cape!
"I passed your cape to Cyno when I got to the hostel," you say, voice laced with worry. "Did you get it?"
That cape looked expensive. But more importantly, you don't think you'd be able to show your face to anyone ever again if you lost the Acting Grand Sage's cape.
"I did," you let out a sigh of relief. "Cyno passed it to me yesterday."
"Did you work through the night?" you ask.
"Yes. I managed to finish everything by dawn, so I went back home to rest before heading out again."
"At dawn? So you did work through the night then!" you huff. "You have to take care of yourself! If not, you'll pass out again."
"I was well rested after I fell asleep at your place."
"You did not fall asleep. You passed out!"
"Well, it was rest either way."
"Then, did you at least eat the wrap we gave you?"
He stills. Suddenly, the chatty vibe between the two of you had disappeared.
"I," he breaks the stillness. "I ate a little bit of it. On the way back to the Akademiya."
He looks a little guilty, but you let it go.
"I'll take your word for it."
Another silence fills the air. You wiggle the toes on your left foot. It aches, but not as much as before, thankfully. But it'll still be a pain to deal with on the walk back home.
"Did you rest well last night?" he asks, breaking the silence again.
"I did," you recall, thinking about that room you were given. "Do all Akademiya students live in rooms like that? Everything was provided!"
You had thought a student hostel would have only the bare essentials, like a bed, wardrobe and a desk. But in the room you were led to, everything you could have possibly needed was there. Soaps, room slippers, sanitary pads and tampons, and even snacks!
"âŠYes," he stretches his neck. "I'm glad you got a good night's rest."
"You should get one too, you know?" you say, turning to face him. "Your friends are worried about you."
And they really are. To the rest of Sumeru, he may just be a temporary authority figure. But to Kaveh, he's his housemate and closest friend. And to Cyno, he's his rival and fellow comrade.
"I know they are," he shares. "But we all have jobs to do."
He looks up, out of the window, far out into the blue sky. It's a sunny day today.
"We should be back at the village in about an hour's time."
"Well, why don't you go get some rest then? I'll wake you when we arrive."
"Thank you." He gives your ankle one last look, making sure nothing got worse. Leaning his head back onto the side of the metal bench, he closes his eyes.
You pray to the Dendro Archon to make his dreams sweet as you watch sleep take him away.
"Did you get it?"
"I think so?"
"Oh, it's blurry! Let me try!"
"Kaveh, wait! Don't lean on that or-"
For an architect, Kaveh is surprisingly terrible at guessing the relative structural integrity of objects. This is why the boxes Kaveh thought were stable (and then proceeded to lean on) come falling down, much to Cyno's dismay.
Naturally, the shopkeeper was furious about Kaveh destroying a whole batch of new wares. Kaveh had racked up quite the bill (which Cyno feels will end up being paid for by Al Haitham), but-
"But it's all worth it. Look!" he gloats, showing Cyno the printed picture.
"Well, would you look at that? Told you this was a good idea!" Kaveh continues.
Well, Archons be damned.
Cyno isn't one who would usually follow Kaveh's pranks or ploys. But if it's going to keep producing results like this, he may consider calling Tighnari to join in on the fun.
"Told you I would be able to get them on the same boat," Cyno smirks, handing the photo back to Kaveh for safekeeping. "What now?"
"Now, we wait," Kaveh takes one last look at the photo, admiring their handiwork before shutting it together with the kamera inside his briefcase. "And when he comes back, oh, it will be fun."
âYouâd be surprisedâ, said Xaldien, who just lost four followers and received a lovely âmen canât be rapedâ anon shortly after reblogging this the first time.
Out of 19000+ followers I have, only one of you actually reblogged about this issue, yet a lot of you have reblogged and liked a picture by playboy about catcalling and that how men should never do it.
Additionally, I have received abuse in my ask box (which I will be answering when I can) and threats. In particular death threats and rape threats.
I can see the real problem here already. Male domestic violence and rape is just invisible in our society because we donât want to talk about this because it just damages the status quo of this fucking website.
yeah honestly this has no link to my usual content but itâs so fucking true i canât keep my eyes closed
also saw on the hellhole that is tiktok, between 2 funny lil gay things, a glimpse of straight tiktok with a woman saying that if her man has a morning wood IN HIS SLEEP then itâs perfectly okay to ride him
and that my friends is SA, unless discussed beforehand. while the op cleared things up afterwards and my hopeful little ass will choose to⊠believe her to keep my sanity untouched, the comment section DID NOT pass the vibe check, and a lot of women AND men think that a woman cannot SA a man on the basis that âmen are always up for itâ, âfind me a man who wouldnât be happy with thatâ, and the glorious âyou canât SA your partner youâre literally in a relationshipâ. i assume that weâre not braindead here but im still going to spell it out: just bc youâre in a relationship doesnât mean you can have sex with your sleeping partner, unless discussed beforehand. otherwise, itâs SA. AND I THOUGHT IT WAS COMMON KNOWLEDGE
