Chapter 4

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Some days, you stare at the scholars, wondering if their snotty words and cruel remarks are what you deserve.

Other days, you wonder why you couldn't just ignore the pain in your heart, the sharpness you feel deep down when someone throws a shot at you when they think you can't hear—behind your back.

And occasionally, you think in despair about how those rumors would never spread if you were just a little kinder, a little nicer, have a little more morals.

Regardless, it's all buried. Your heart hasn't seen the light of day in years, and it will not see it again. You made sure of that.

That's what you thought, anyways.

Alhaitham and Kaveh sat across from each other and ordered their meals swiftly, without sparing a glance at the tavern's menu.

Kaveh said, "I'll take the Lambad Fish Roll."

"One Shawarma Wrap," Alhaitham requested.

The waiter nodded stiffly and took their menus.

"So," Kaveh started. "We're eating at Tighnari's tomorrow."

Alhaitham briefly responded, unsure of where the conversation was going. "Right..."

"You're coming, right?" Kaveh asked. He added, "He said he's cooking Sabz Meat Stew."

Alhaitham paused for a second. "You're the second person to put so much emphasis on my presence there tomorrow. What's wrong? Did you get in trouble again?"

"What?" Kaveh squawked. "No, no, that's not it."

"If you say so," Alhaitham drawled, unconvinced.

"No, I'm being serious! It's not that. I swear upon my magnum opus, the Palace of Alcazarzaray."

"If anyone else were to swear upon their magnum opus, I would look at them like they were crazy, but for some reason, since it's you, I don't feel even the slightest bit of surprise."

"Hey! I'll have you know that the place took me five whole months to design and a year and a half to construct! It's not something to be taken lightly!"

Their banter was interrupted by the waiter. "Here are your meals, sirs." After setting their orders on the table, he left quickly.

"I'm not taking it lightly," Alhaitham responded. "But I don't know if you've noticed—you probably haven't, considering your abysmal observational skills—but most people tend to swear on their god, so swearing on Nahida would be a better option."

Kaveh slapped a hand on the table. "Can we have one conversation without arguing? Just one?"

Alhaitham sat there staring blankly at his food. For as long as he could remember, the last time he and Kaveh had a conversation where they didn't argue was during their early Akademiya years. Now, Alhaitham had no idea how to talk to Kaveh without arguing. Was this what his relationship with Kaveh turned into? Two grown men who couldn't spit out a few sentences before insulting each other?

"Alhaitham," Kaveh said sharply. "You're...ugh, this is so cringy. You're my friend, you know that?"

Alhaitham's eyes snapped up. "What?"

"Don't make me say it again. You're stubborn. You're insufferable. You act like you don't care. You never mince your words. You are a horrible friend on the surface, but in truth, you're a friend who I know will always have a place for me in his house. Tell me...if you really make your decisions based on pure rationality, then why did you take me in? What was to gain from that?"

Alhaitham's brain, for the first time he could remember, short circuited. "I'm...your friend?"

Kaveh smacked his head against the table and let out an exasperated sigh. "What, did you possibly think we were strangers? We live in the same house, for crying out loud! The brightest student of the Haravatat Darshan is an idiot with no common sense. Honestly, they wouldn't have elected you Acting Grand Sage if they knew."

He ignored the last comment and protested, "But you just insulted me and you said you hated how insufferable and stubborn I was. Just now!"

Kaveh looked at him with dead eyes, like he had just given up on life. "Listen, Alhaitham, you took me in because you cared. You won't go out of your way to help someone, but if they come crawling to you, you won't turn them away if they have a good reason. You don't care if other people paint you as the bad guy, but I do. Because you helped me when nobody else would, and it's unjust for them to gossip about you like they do."

"..."

"Well, anyways, now that we're seated and have ordered...what were you dreaming about, earlier?"

"Why would you want to know?"

"You were shaking around and mumbling something about—about how you didn't do something...? How you didn't...kill someone?"

"...You must have been mistaken..." Alhaitham weakly refuted. "I don't talk in my sleep."

Kaveh stared at him with the same unnerving look he had on earlier. "Alhaitham," he said suddenly. "I told you that I see you as my friend. I know we don't always get along, but I'll always lend an ear to you."

A year or two ago, Alhaitham would've politely told Kaveh to get lost. He would've brushed off Kaveh's worries with insults and attempts to reach out with subtle digs. He would've spiraled into the darkness that was his mind, left to navigate a place he had never mapped before—and he would've failed. He would've kept silent until his breaking point. He would've walked out the door of the tavern right then and there, slamming the door behind him.

But Alhaitham was so, so tired. Tired of being the Acting Grand Sage. Tired of constantly being haunted by a memory from more than two decades ago. Tired of arguing with Kaveh. Tired of the darkness lying in wait at the back of his head.

"I was four when it happened," he told Kaveh. "I was insanely curious, as most young children were. Both of my parents were distinguished scholars from the Akademiya at the time. They were conducting an experiment with an open flame and an electro slime. I had scarcely been out of the house, so I had never seen a slime before. I messed up the experiment by poking and moving the electro slime, and it collided with the fire."

Kaveh realized, "Overloaded,"

"Yeah..." Alhaitham confirmed. "My life almost ended that day. My mother realized that I went in and walked in just as it happened. She pulled me back just in time, but she didn't make it. Neither did my father, who went after her. A naive and inquisitive child and two self-sacrificial parents. Needless to say, it was a dangerous combination. Deadly, even."

"Alhaitham..."

Alhaitham had never felt so raw and exposed before. "You knew I was an orphan, raised by my grandmother, but you didn't know that I was the one who killed my parents. The rational part of me knows I was four, and that I couldn't have had any idea about Overload. But there's constantly a voice in the back of my mind, and it'll never let me forget the part I played in their deaths."

"Alhaitham...this doesn't change anything."

"I just told you I'm the reason my parents died," Alhaitham stated. "How does that not change anything?"

"Alhaitham." Kaveh looked at him thoughtfully. "Lesser Lord Kusanali, I hate to say this, but for once, the rational part of you is right. You were four and you didn't know any better. But the emotional side of you isn't wrong, either. There's no right answer to grief, and acceptance is hard. But I guarantee you, whether they're in Celestia, the stars, or somewhere else, they don't regret dying for you. And they definitely don't blame you for their deaths. I'm sure they're watching you right now, proud of the intelligent Akademiya figure you've become today."

Alhaitham stared to the side and took in what Kaveh told him. He sighed and put his hands up to his hair. "Thank you, Kaveh. I think I needed that."

Kaveh smiled. "Ha! I think that's the first time in all these years you've ever thanked me." He held his hand out open on the wooden table. "I'm always here for you. I hope you will always be there for me."

Alhaitham eyed the outstretched hand and returned it with his own, briefly. "It's an agreement."

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