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Alhaitham had never worshiped a god until now.
Not until he fell to his knees, stifling screams and empty cries.
Where there should have been blind rage, he felt nothing—because Kaveh was the one who felt everything. He loved too quickly and gave too much. But that's the thing: people take and take until there's nothing left.
Alhaitham was ashamed to admit he was one of those people at first. He only figured out how to return Kaveh's seemingly endless flow of love as soon as it ran out.
Kaveh had nothing left to give. But the world is cruel, and humanity is crueler. So they took the one thing Kaveh had left: himself. They tore him away from Alhaitham, leaving darkness where there used to be bright, golden brilliance. The Light of Kshahrewar was no more.
Alhaitham had everything left to give, but the world took the one thing he could never lose again.
The gentle hand of a child rested on his cheek, drawing his eyes up from the floor.
His voice was hoarse as he spoke, the words carrying a heavy weight on his tongue and even more in his heart, “Kaveh—please. You need to help me.”
Lesser Lord Kusanali spoke, “I do not understand.”
His throat constricted as another cry threatened to rip itself from his chest. “Kaveh. Please. They took him away from me.”
Her face furrowed in confusion. “You misunderstand. I do not have that kind of power.”
The hand on his face slipped away, and his head dipped towards the ground once again. The tears poured down his face, and if Alhaitham concentrated hard enough, he could almost imagine them wiping away the stains on his soul. Stains that stretched back far further than his lifetime, as if he was atoning for the sins of another.
After a long period of silence, only broken up by Alhaitham’s choked up sobs, Nahida spoke again, her voice measured and soothing. “I am the god of wisdom. My domain extends over that of dreams and knowledge, not the dead.”
“Kaveh embodies everything I hold dear. Without him, I have no reason to remain in this life.”
“You said that last time, too,” she mused to herself.
He looked up, eyes trained on Nahida’s face but not quite meeting her eyes. “What?”
Lesser Lord Kusanali tilted her head. “Do you not remember your love?”
His face twisted in confusion. “Of course I remember Kaveh. I would die before I lost my memories of him.”
“Alhaitham, you already have.”
He—what?
His head jerked back, thoughts and theories racing through his mind at a pace and quantity far too difficult for even him to comprehend.
After a long period of silence, Nahida’s eyes clouded over. “You’re thinking too much, too fast. I can’t possibly read it.”
Alhaitham’s voice turned cold, “I would prefer if you didn’t invade my mind like that, Lesser Lord Kusanali.”
“My apologies, it was only to check in on you. I did not wish for that revelation to cause unnecessary emotional turmoil,” her small voice rang out. “I simply mean to say that I am surprised you did not know, is all, and I was attempting to gauge your reaction. This life may be all that you remember, but you and Kaveh have spent thousands of years together already.”
He spoke slowly, “How was that possible? What were we?”
“Who,” she gently corrected with a smile. “Unfortunately, this isn’t the first life where Kaveh has been taken from you too soon. Your love, your pain, your anguish; it’s all recorded in Irminsul. I can see back to the time of the first civilizations in Sumeru.”
“Who were we?”
“You’re not a particularly religious person, are you, Alhaitham?” Nahida didn’t give him the chance to answer. “It makes sense, considering you and Kaveh were gods in your last lifetime. You may not remember, but the legacy of King Deshret and Nabu Malikata lives on in you and Kaveh.”
His throat clicked when he swallowed. “I–” A pause. “I’m King Deshret?”
“You were. Sometimes, love is so strong that grief cannot be contained in one lifetime.”
Alhaitham had always grown up with a feeling he wasn’t able to name. The sort of nagging emotion that had him looking over his shoulder every time he left his home, as if he was forgetting something, despite having both sets of keys. He hadn’t forgotten just anything; he had forgotten an entire lifetime. He knew the history of King Deshret and Nabu Malikata, the Goddess of Flowers. Where she had walked, padisarahs had bloomed in her wake, and after her death, the Scarlet King had succumbed to grief not long after.
King Deshret had lived under the gaze of the Heavenly Principles from the day he was born as the son of the sky. The wonders of his mind were destined for greatness. Nabu Malikata was born from the earth like flowers blooming from rich soil. They were polar opposites, but they drew the other in like the sun and the moon, chasing one another for eternity.
The two ruled in partnership with the Dendro Archon before her ascent to power, and Nabu Malikata grew to support King Deshret’s beliefs. After her death, King Deshret fell into turmoil like the sands that once rested quietly under the desert sun. He became known as The Mourning King, creating the Eternal Oasis to serve as her final resting place. And just like padisarahs after the death of the Goddess of Flowers, the Dendro Archon tried to bring both of them back, but they were never quite the same.
Nahida’s words replayed in his head, It wasn’t the first time.
His thoughts scattered like leaves on the wind. "You said that everything is recorded in Irminsul. Can you see how Kaveh died?"
"I can." She didn't offer anything else.
"How."
Nahida shook her head, sorrow filling her eyes. "I won't let you relive that grief again."
"What happened last time?"
"The Goddess of Flowers knew she was walking the path to her death, yet she did not stray from it. She chose to keep this knowledge from King Deshret, and she died for her people."
"You're saying—" His next words were no more than a hoarse whisper. "You're saying Kaveh knew he was going to die?"
Nahida could offer no more than a solemn nod.
Alhaitham remained silent, letting his gaze drift down to the marbled floor of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. His knees ached from nearly collapsing onto the cold tile as soon as he entered, but it wasn’t comparable to the emotional torment he was experiencing. This was his first time entering such a place, but he had no doubt that Kaveh would have marveled at the architectural wonders that lay within.
Nahida continued, “Kaveh had been just as selfless in this life as he was the last time you walked by his side, and every time before that.”
He offered up a grain of his own memories, hoping that Kaveh could live on in an immortal god’s mind. “We once came across a street stand selling handmade keychains. The owner insisted that a portion of the profit would go towards feeding children in poverty, and Kaveh ended up using his hard-earned money to buy over a dozen, despite being in large amounts of debt.”
Nahida nodded with a small smile. “A gentle heart. He was selfless, even at the cost of himself.”
Alhaitham pushed himself to his feet unsteadily, knees ready to buckle at any moment. He awkwardly bowed, then backed up a few steps. “I apologize for making such a foolish request. I will take my leave now.”
The god of wisdom looked at him with a considerate expression, making Alhaitham feel as if every thought and emotion in his head was stripped bare for her to examine. “I do not hold power over the afterlife, but perhaps there is something else I can do for you. No matter what lifetime you two have lived through, you have never gotten the chance to say goodbye to one another, leaving the cycle to repeat again. I never formally thanked you for releasing me from the Sages’ prison and saving Sumeru. Let me give you this, as a final farewell.”
He froze, feeling the tears bead up in the corners of his eyes once more. “What kind of farewell?”
“A large amount of my power extends over dreams, so I can create one final dream for you and Kaveh to say goodbye in. This can be your last Samsara. You two will not see each other again in the next lifetime.”
“This—this is the final life?”
“It can be. Your souls are old and weary. You both have yearned to rest for centuries, but the world has cruelly withheld that from you. I can grant you the chance to say goodbye; I can grant you rest. Go, be with your love.”
She stepped forward, grabbing Alhaitham’s wrist with a steady hand. He closed his eyes, feeling a rush of warmth flood through him, as if he was being wrapped up in Kaveh’s love and devotion from every lifetime.
When his eyes opened again, the grip on his wrist was still firm, but it was no longer Lesser Lord Kusanali standing in front of him.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham choked out. Tears of sorrow and pain quickly turned to those of happiness, even if he knew he would have to leave this paradise of Nahida’s making soon enough.
Kaveh sputtered, “Alhaitham? How are you here?”
As a man who normally prided himself in having a quick response to any potential situation or question that arose, Alhaitham found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he threw his arms around Kaveh, pulling him close and breathing in the subtle smell of padisarahs.
Alive, his senses told him. Everything from the soft hair next to his face to the thumping pulse beneath his fingertips. Alive, unlike the mutilated corpse that Cyno and Tighnari refused to let him see.
Kaveh returned the gesture with a tight enough grip to make Alhaitham’s chest ache. Underneath the light floral smell was a layer of rich spices—cardamom and cinnamon. Home, he thought to himself.
He kept his eyes squeezed shut, as he could stay in this moment forever. Eventually, Kaveh pulled away, leaning in for a deep kiss instead. It was long and tender, and Alhaitham’s eyes slid open, wondering if time had indeed frozen.
He slowly pulled back, still keeping a strong grip on Kaveh lest he lose him forever. “Where are we?”
Kaveh’s mouth hung open, gazing around in barely contained awe. “The Eternal Oasis…so this is what the sandstorm hides.” His eyes eventually landed on a small building constructed between two towering palms. “Hey, our house is here!”
The words lingered in Alhaitham’s mind, and he tucked them away in a small corner of his heart for safe keeping. Our house. Kaveh’s hand latched onto his wrist, insistently tugging him toward the familiar structure. When they reached the entryway, Kaveh dropped Alhaitham’s hand, moving to head inside. Before his brain registered the action, Alhaitham lunged forward, securing Kaveh’s hand like a vice. He couldn’t lose him—not again.
Kaveh yelped in surprise, scoffing at the dramatic nature of it. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to grab something from inside.”
“That’s what you said last time,” Alhaitham said.
Kaveh’s gaze softened. “I promise.”
True to his word this time, he’s back out in an instant, holding his guitar with a smile big enough to rival the sun. Despite the scowl lining his face, Alhaitham felt his heart soften at the sight of Kaveh’s familiar features.
With his free hand, Kaveh grabbed hold of Alhaitham once more. Holding the guitar firmly in the other, he led them both toward the three chairs in the middle of the Oasis. Alhaitham sat down in one, letting his eyes slowly scan over the Eternal Oasis before landing on Kaveh. Kaveh studied the remaining two chairs, a concentrated expression painting his features. Instead of choosing his own chair, he situated himself on Alhaitham’s lap, leaning back against his chest.
Alhaitham wrapped his arms around Kaveh’s torso and leaned forward, resting his chin on Kaveh’s shoulder. The gentle strum of a familiar tune slowly filled the paradise frozen in time, and Alhaitham let his eyes slide shut.
If this was a declaration of King Deshret’s love towards the Goddess of Flowers, then Alhaitham had no doubt that the love they had for one another was the same as his and Kaveh. They had a love that could transcend centuries and lifetimes. But no matter how many lifetimes Kaveh and Alhaitham lived through, it would always end the same. Alhaitham had a will that could silence that of the gods. He would rebel against the divine in a heartbeat if he thought he could save Kaveh this time.
The sound of the guitar slowly faded, and Alhaitham opened his eyes to see Kaveh’s loving expression gazing back at him. He leaned in for another kiss, then pulled away and nestled his face into the crook between Kaveh’s shoulder and neck.
“What’s the point?” Alhaitham asked.
Kaveh set down the guitar, then fully leaned back, reaching up to pet at Alhaitham’s hair. “Of what, exactly?”
“Life. Going on without you. We’re born only to die.”
“You have to live enough for the both of us.”
Alhaitham squeezed Kaveh tighter, as if by squeezing hard enough he could rip down the veil between the dead and the living. “I don’t think I can go through another life of you leaving me too soon.”
Kaveh’s hand wrenched away from Alhaitham’s hair as he stood up quickly, turning to face him with a small smile. “This is our last Samsara. We’ll see each other again one day, but for now, dance with me.”
Alhaitham took hold of Kaveh’s hand once more, committing to not ever let go of his love again.
One last dance in the eternal paradise.
Although their movements were shaky and uncoordinated, Kaveh led Alhaitham through the motions. They danced in circles until the sun went down, losing track of the time in each other’s eyes. Flowers bloomed in the wake of their footsteps—brilliant, purple padisarahs.
When dusk gave way to night, Alhaitham found himself led into the recreation of their home, keeping a death grip on Kaveh’s hand the entire time. They settled into bed, Alhaitham pressing himself against the warm body that rested beside him. Slender arms wrapped around his frame and pulled him impossibly closer, allowing Kaveh to nuzzle the top of Alhaitham’s head as he slowed his breathing to sync their heartbeats. For this love, he might need a few centuries more.
His eyes slipped shut, content to bask in the warmth of Kaveh's presence.
The moment Alhaitham woke, all the security and comfort he had felt before was gone, the empty space at his back seeming more like an endless void.
A shuddering sob immediately escaped his lips, and he curled in onto himself in an effort to numb the pain. No matter how tightly he wrapped his arms around himself, he couldn’t quell the feeling of being alone and exposed. Kaveh only lived on in the memories of those who knew him best, although Nahida claimed that Irminsul would keep record of every detail of the world until the end of Teyvat, just as he had done as a scribe.
No matter how much anger Alhaitham could express towards the gods, Lesser Lord Kusanali had ultimately given him and Kaveh the greatest gift of all by ending their cycle. The memory of Kaveh’s fingers flitting over each guitar string flashed through his mind—another image Alhaitham would tuck into the corner of his heart.
His mind sorted through all of the belongings Kaveh had left behind that Alhaitham would have to one day go through. Although he knew that he would never part with a single item, he knew that he would learn each and every instrument Kaveh had picked up and eventually left behind.
The Eternal Oasis now lay beyond his reach, but Kaveh would live in his heart forever, tucked away safely next to all the other fond memories Alhaitham carried.
He spoke aloud in a hoarse voice to no one in particular, “Farewell, my paradise.”
Alhaitham woke up with the sun on his face and a warm feeling blanketing him in a field of flowers. Vibrant, purple Padisarahs sprawled in every direction as far as the eye could see, but all Alhaitham cared about was the sun hanging over him.
Kaveh’s warm smile lit up the world. “Don't tell me you missed me that much,” he teased as tears filled Alhaitham’s eyes.
Instead of responding, Alhaitham threw his arms around Kaveh, pulling him down into the field of flowers.
A muffled voice sounded, “I’m sorry for leaving so soon.”
Alhaitham breathed deeply, basking in Kaveh’s familiar scent. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
And, amidst an ocean of padisarahs, his paradise was right here.