Work Text:
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
A GRAVE OVERSIGHT
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
Alhaitham had no idea how he was supposed to keep going at this rate, it was incredibly frustrating to him how Nahida -she’d asked to be called such, and so that’s what he would call her- kept managing to weasel away from him and any of his requests for more information on when she thought that she might have some idea of when there might be an actual new grand sage appointed; after all he’d handed in his resignation long before the hivemind event.
He was supposed to be able to clock out at five, now he was lucky to be home before six thirty.
He’d even foolishly come into work early on a handful of occasions, hoping that it might grant him an earlier leave time, or perhaps something as simple as an uninterrupted lunch break, but it was never the case.
On the few times he was truly ready to put his head through a wall, he simply left the office and took some of his paperwork with him.
But it never seemed to matter where he went, nor for how long he was there, because he was always found out.
He’d asked Nahida point blank if she sent people to his location, but she always denied it and seemed almost upset that people managed to hunt him down, going so far as to tell her hat wearing apprentice that it was only going to chase him off faster. Alhaitham didn’t bother to correct her, they both knew that he was leaving at the same speed regardless of how many people bothered him.
Most frustrating of all, perhaps, was the fact that he’d been working on finishing reading the same text for a number of days now, and he never seemed to be making any progress on it. At most he was able to fully absorb a few pages before work, exhaustion, or some other eye requiring task took him away from it.
Kaveh had even been kinder as of late, nagging him less and oft times leaving him coffee if he left early or everything ready for a quick breakfast. They’d entered some kind of bizarre truce where Alhaitham didn’t nag him about the rent and Kaveh didn’t hammer on his projects until dawn.
The blond had even thrown a blanket over him the other night when he’d fallen asleep on the sofa.
It almost felt like old times.
But Alhaitham knew it wouldn’t last, things never lasted with Kaveh. The valleys and peaks were expected now, the older man operating with his heart and not his head. It was as endearing as it was frustrating because he never seemed to learn his lessons, no matter how many times he’d been taught them.
Though, he had to admit, it seemed that Alhaitham himself was the one who was needing to learn his lesson.
He grimaced as much as he was wont to, perhaps a slight frown creased between his eyebrows, but if you’d blinked you would miss it. The coffee he’d made at the office was offensively bitter.
He had a passing thought to find a way to thank Kaveh for insisting on them trying different bean blends because if he had to exist on this disgusting brew… He shuddered to think.
He drained the rest of the cup, quick, like a shot and set the mug in the communal sink.
Then again, if Kaveh hadn’t insisted on paying more for better roasted beans he might be less aware of just how terrible this was.
Objectively, he’d always known that the bulk purchased coffee in the Akademiya was of a lesser quality, but the divide between a passable cup of coffee and viewing it as absolute undrinkable swill was probably widened by the influx of actually well roasted beans.
He frowned, closing the tap; he would research it further, but the end result didn’t particularly matter when it was something so subjective as taste. Especially because he couldn’t think of anything that would actually empirically prove that the introduction of something good made something that had been seen as passable fall in the ranks as a result.
He stared at the water in the mug.
The tap had been on so long or there’d been so little in the mug that it seemed like it had contained nothing more than water.
Why did it matter? Why did he care about this?
Why did he care about either the water in the mug or the objective improvement of his appreciation of coffee roasting methods leaving him to drink a worse cup at work? It didn’t matter why he thought the coffee stocked in the kitchen was bad; that was an unsolvable problem.
The solution to the issue was a simple side-step: simply do not drink coffee from work.
Certainly no one would stop him if he stepped out to a cafe to get something to drink, he’d proven that over the past few weeks.
He was more tired than he thought, that’s all there was to it.
Alhaitham was not one who had to force himself to work; he’d easily trained himself to listen passively, turning his body into a living, breathing verbal to written copier as his mind wandered and focused more on other things.
Even as a student, he would simply read the books ahead of time or do his own research if the sage ‘teaching’ the class was more laughable than Kaveh picking up the bill after a night out, and turn in his work ahead of time so that he could go work on something that interested him.
He enjoyed using his brain, it wasn’t difficult for him. And it wasn’t that he was born smart, he’d simply picked up a book one day and had discovered how incredible it was to have a question answered. There were few questions that couldn’t be answered, one simply needed to know where to look.
He blinked at the coffee cup in the sink.
How long had he been standing there? Had he fallen asleep?
Once upon a time he’d read some studies that indicated that the human body was capable of ‘micro-sleep’ if it was driven beyond its limits. Was that what this was?
Alhaitham couldn’t think of a single time in his life where he’d ever felt like this.
Then again, he couldn’t think of a single time in his life where he’d actually bent to someone else’s whim, not following his own path. At least, not since his grandmother had died.
He’d promised her that he would seek a peaceful life, and insofar, he had managed to keep that promise.
No one he knew (Kaveh, it was only truly Kaveh that knew him) could fully understand how he would fight the Akademiya one week only to be begging to be returned to his former position of the scribe the next.
But it was about the promise of peace, was it not?
If the Akademiya had fallen, where would he be then?
Almost certainly not the scribe, things had been made abundantly clear when Cyno suddenly became the former General Mahamatra, an unnatural turn of events that had clearly indicated that it was time to act.
He’d been hearing about the funding issues at work and at home, it was inescapable, Kaveh had made sure that he had no escape from-
He blinked at the mug.
This…
Well, that was quite enough of that.
He pushed off the sink and headed towards his office.
As soon as he was moving, he felt immediately more like himself.
There was no denying that his exhaustion levels were, dare he presume, Kaveh levels of unhealthy, but as long as he was moving he felt fine.
Perhaps once he was back to being the scribe and could be allowed to use his eroding away vacation time, this was an experiment worth taking on in an environment with less variables.
Perhaps, he considered as he pushed open his office door, he should warm up his brain by jotting down a simple list of tasks he could undertake while rested and then again at various levels of having under-slept?
Nothing too overwhelming, perhaps a mix of things he could do mindlessly, making coffee, to things that would take more effort, reorganising something that would infuriate a certain blond room-
Was this what people referred to when they spoke about their heart racing and their mind going blank?
An eremite dagger was pinned to his desk, that was fine. It wasn’t his desk and it wasn’t his problem that someone had made their way into his office when it was empty. It would have been a different end for the person if he had been in the office.
The blade’s tip was deep into the smoothed wooden surface, while it wasn’t perfectly vertical, it was close enough. Again, this was of little importance, but he felt the need to focus on that and not what was between the blade and the desk.
He swallowed hard, imagining that he could hear the echo of the sound in the office, his brain spiraling into dramatics as he forced them back and down, as he carefully tugged the folded parchment from under the knife, from under-
He opened the paper.
Alhaitham couldn’t remember the last time that he’d come across something that he’d found difficult to read.
There had been the languages that he’d been learning, that he had to translate, sure; those tasks had been difficult, but the reading itself had not been the issue.
But this?
He was having difficulty reading the words on the page in front of them.
He comprehended the meaning of the words, he spoke the language it was penned in. The vocabulary itself was simple, the sentences short.
And yet.
He could only define his reaction as… Struggling.
Alhaitham was struggling to comprehend.
He dropped the note back onto the desk, leaving it open next to the knife.
He jotted a note down for Cyno down and folded it, sealed it, it was messy under his shaking hands. He hesitated, looking down at his shaking hands, watching the letter quiver, the motions exaggerated in the parchment.
The threat was clear, undenyable, unmistakable.
He clenched his empty hand, hesitating again.
He didn’t recognize himself.
Alhaitham was not a man of confusion, of fear, of hesitation.
It was not that he didn’t think that those were emotions that were below him, he simply did not allow himself to steep within them, he was not one to rest in his inaction.
And yet, now, he found himself hesitating.
He flexed his hand again, forcing down the strange choking levels of adrenaline that were shooting through him like an electro seelie and forced himself to reach out, forced himself into action.
Perhaps Cyno would be angered that he had taken in, perhaps he should have left it for the General Mahamatra.
Alhaitham didn’t care.
He entered the elevator out of the office and activated it, the letter to Cyno in a gentle hold on one side, a tassel from Collei’s scarf rescued from the eremite’s knife clenched in a white knuckled fist at his other side.
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
“General Mahamatra!” the man panted, all but colliding with Cyno as he skidded to a halt.
“Nayab?” Cyno turned, arms crossing as he waited impatiently for the man to catch his breath.
“Grand Sage Alhaitham-”
“Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham,” Cyno corrected, mentally preparing for Alhaitham’s sub half second frustrated grunt about it at the next games night.
“Yes,” Nayab nodded, “Him.
“He told me to get this to you as soon as possible.”
“Did you read it?” Cyno asked, seeing a flicker of paper. Alhaitham’s seal was a smeared mess. The wax hadn’t been melted enough, he hadn't pressed his seal into it for long enough, and it would have been easily reafixed in such a messed state, leaving it up to chance.
This couldn’t be any good.
“Sir, no, sir,” the man said, “He said that it had to be you and it had to be quick. He-” the man sucked in a choked desperate gasp, “He said everything rested on this.
“Sir, I’ve never seen him like that.”
Cyno hummed, the whisper of a pop seeming to echo through the crowded street as he broke the barely affixed seal.
They have Collei
More info in office
Left to find
Time seemed to freeze.
For just a moment, Cyno swore that everything in the world stopped, even a dusk bird in his peripheral vision seemed to hover midflight.
He blinked and sound, movement, time resumed.
“I’m going to the Acting Grand Sage’s office. Gather a troupe and find me there.” Nayab nodded, still panting. “Now.”
His bare feet slapped against the ground, more sound than his stride had made in years, but he didn’t care.
Collei was like a niece, a sister.
He had promised her that he would keep her safe.
He had promised Tighnari that he would keep her safe.
The sound of his failure louder even than the aching scream of Hermanubis as he called upon his power in the heat of battle.
But there was no battle now, the battle would come later.
He disregarded everyone and everything on his way to the office, at least that was how it appeared; in reality he was quickly taking in every single person that he passed on his hasty journey doing his best to file them away should he need to question them later or if there was anyone there that it seemed shouldn’t be.
There were no immediate standouts, but that didn’t mean anything.
The lift seemed painfully slow as he made his way up to the office.
The glint of the knife, catching the light of the lamp from where it was still stabbed into the desk, was the first thing that caught his attention.
He forced his way through the opening doors and scanned the room with a careful eye. Much like the path up, nothing seemed immediately out of order, but he couldn’t clear anything until he could settle down.
Half of his brain was working the case as it should be, but half of his heart was with Collei, with Tighnari, with-
He made his way to the desk.
Alhaitham had been even sloppier in this note, ink splattering further and less punctuation on the letter he’d left behind on the desk.
Collei cloth
W/ note
emr blade
Tanit mayb
find
Cyno glanced at the Sand Grease Pupa that had been left either for him by Alhaitham or for them with the note that had been left with something of Collei’s.
He looked at the threat letter, knife blade having cleanly pierced it when it was pinned and cleanly sliced it when Alhaitham pulled it free.
He shoved the thought aside as he wondered why the Acting Grand Sage hadn’t simply removed the blade, there would be time to ask him that when he got up to the other man.
We have her.
How far are you willing to go to get her back?
The jackal is with the fox.
Who is faster:
Our blades or a feeble scholar?
If you win,
You save the girl.
If we win,
The Light is next.
The note was clear, both the script and the language.
What was less clear was the why.
Why focus on Collei? To get to him? Because Alhaitham wasn’t attached to her, she was part of his own family in Gandharva Ville.
So why send the threat to Alhaitham?
It was clever enough of them to target Collei, arguably the weakest link out of anyone connected to them- Provided that they had never seen her with a bow, but had seen Nilou with a sword.
Though was she the weakest link? Even if you didn’t know of her skill with the bow, she was rarely in the city.
Where as the Light of Kshahrewar was in the city more than half drunk in a tavern any given night, wouldn’t that make him the weakest link?
He needed to reach Tighnari, needed to get word to the man and follow Collei’s steps, find out what happened.
He needed to reach Kaveh, get him a guard until this situation was sorted out.
He needed to reach Alhaitham, they needed to take this threat down together.
He needed to reach Collei, nothing could happen to her.
Cyno crossed towards the lift, climbing onto it just before the doors closed, summoned by the other matra slowly catching up to him.
He left the office as he’d found it, commanding two of the matra to guard the lift.
“No one goes in aside from the lesser lord herself, am I clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” they chanted in unison, taking up a clear post.
“You two,” he commanded two other matra, pointing at them each in turn. “Investigate the common working areas, and lock them down.
“It’s early yet; disallow the work day to start until you have fully cleared the kitchen especially. The Acting Grand Sage is partial to a morning coffee, I would start in the kitchen.”
They fell into lockstep and hurried away.
Two matra remained.
“You both,” he said, hurrying from the area, “With me.”
He had to stop at his working quarters in the city, he could use one of his trained dusk birds to get a note swiftly to Tighnari and receive a response far quicker this way than he could get any of his men to the forest watcher and back.
As he burst into the slowly rising sun, doors swinging behind him, he barely hesitated before pushing for an extra burst of speed as he threw himself over the side.
He dropped to the ground, leaving his stomach on the balcony above, plunging his staff into the ground to break his fall.
His entire body seemed to vibrate with the force of the jolt, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“You should be careful, Cyno,” a cool voice pulled his attention, a light mist of water falling over him as Candace carefully put her shield away, rising to her full height as she straightened from her protective stance. “People do tend to walk on the streets here.”
Cyno barely heard a word over the pounding of his heart.
“What are you doing here?”
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
Alhaitham used his vision probably more than he should, using his mirrors when the golden four-leaf sigils failed him as he traced and retraced, calculated and recalculated the fastest path to the wenut.
The scent on the tassel still clenched in his had been unmistakable when he’d entered the office.
The tribe closest to the beast was the tanit tribe.
He grabbed another clover, the sand in his boots an even further insult than it usually was. It felt like ever grain stabbed him, slowed him.
He was usually good at multitasking. Listening to the words, transcribing them, recording them to the Akasha before it had been blessedly abolished, all while debating what to make for dinner.
But all he could do right now was go over his mental map, trace every path that he could possibly think of.
He kept pushing forward.
He didn’t have the capacity to consider why they’d taken Collei, why they’d left him the note, why-
He grunted, pulling the hilichurls arrow from his shoulder; he couldn’t even bring himself to care why he hadn’t seen the creature, not when he could just cut him down.
Let Cyno follow the trail of bodies and blood, let the General Mahamatra condemn him and demand his penance.
He pushed on, harder, trying to move faster as dual blades caught the light of the sun.
There were no sins weighing on his soul as he carved a path to the girl who’d barely been able to take a single breath since having been cured of Eleazar.
That wasn’t peace.
The damage that would be done if something happened to her would send ripples that could never be stopped.
He’d seen the first ring of ripples when they’d received word of the injury Tighnari had suffered, wounded at Pardis Dhyai, had seen how Cyno had carried that with him, stark facade crumbling at the edges.
There would be no peace if something happened to the ward.
He grabbed another golden sigil, fighting to keep his feet under him as he slammed into the ground.
There was no time to feel the pain, he held onto the safety of the adrenaline, embraced the fear that was unfamiliar but keeping him moving.
He slayed the pyro whopper flowers, casting aside his smoldering cape, leaving another marker of his path as he flipped the mental coin and headed into the cave.
He had no way of knowing if the tribe - what had any of them done to the Tanit? - had taken Collei back to the camp or if the pupa scent had been an infinitely worse threat.
He kept his dual swords out as he ran, using the blades to parry the absurd amount of fungi opting to save the time it would take to fight them and leave their corpses as a trail to instead dance around them and instead replenish his wavering energy with the glowing white flowers that dotted his path.
There was no sign of Collei as he broached the main chamber, the swirling sands of the Setekh Wenut ominous but active, no whisper that something unspeakable had gone down.
He forced down a scream, frowning at his own behavior. He didn’t recognize himself.
He took a breath, studying his surroundings, and began to move.
Across from him in the center of one of the exiting branches, a iron chunk sat threateningly in the middle of the path, the stark red of the eremite scarf tied around it taunting him on one side of his mind, but confirming that he’d made the right choice in the other.
He carefully swept around the edges of the cavern, refusing to waste the time that it would take to eliminate the threat that could be easily skirted. Cyno was bound to do the same.
He left the ore and the scarf as his marker here and continued on his path.
Alhaitham picked himself up from a surprise scorpion attack that he should have seen coming, swiftly ending the creatures life.
He needed to focus- Collei needed him to focus.
He grunted, pushing himself on and scanning the room.
The electro crystal deposits seemed to flicker and crackle threateningly.
He slowed his movements, but it was too late.
The recently felled scorpion had an angry older sibling.
“Tch,” he tsked at the consecrated beast, “How bold.”
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
The cave was cool and quiet, he didn’t like it.
Cyno adjusted his grip on his staff, creeping carefully over the piles of meat that remained, an grim shadow of the slight scorpion that it had once been.
The only sound was that of the rushing anemo.
Where was the consecrated scorpion?
He’d braced himself for the strike of electro, battling the element within him, but it never came.
He wasn’t surprised- That’s not entirely true, he had no doubt that Alhaitham could easily strike down any of the consecrated beasts; the ‘feeble scholar’ was a dramatic fellow that enjoyed keeping his battle prowess hidden under showy muscles and his … interesting reputation.
Cyno never paid much mind to reputations, it was far too easy to get swept up in the general public’s assumptions of a person and lose sight of your ability to formulate your own ideas. Assumptions can be dangerous depending on the circumstance.
Take Tighnari’s reputation at the Akademiya, so many assumptions had been made on the fox that Cyno had been assigned to dig into his past because those making the assumptions couldn’t possibly believe that someone could be so kind as to actually help someone without a malicious motive.
Cyno had made sure to clear his reputation; something that his now friend both appreciated and cursed him for- ‘If I still had a bad reputation perhaps they would badger me less about returning to the the Akademiya, leaving me free to do my job in relative peace.’
Another thought for another day, Cyno forced his mind to clear. He had an Acting Grand Sage to find.
The crystals sparked menacingly around the naturally formed arena, but there was a severe lack of giant angry electro creature.
It was nice that he wouldn’t have to fuss with the creature, a long physical battle that would have taken a longer amount of time than he had in hand at the moment.
He glanced around, seeing a lack of trail.
What was it that he was saying about assumptions? This was one of the times where he had to use them.
Operating under what he knew of Alhaitham, would the man take the tunnel? Ride the wind up?
Up made the most sense, didn’t it? Because below was only a closed chamber, creatures on either end of it and-
Cyno noticed the crushed bush, the shells along the edge of the drop-off.
It didn’t look intentional, it didn’t look like a trail, it looked-
Cyno plunged, electro flashing as he carved a path through the Consecrated Flying Serpent.
“Scatter!” Alhaitham’s voice cut through the chamber, harsh green lines cutting through the air and joining with Cyno’s electro to make quick work of the beast.
He stilled, tucking away his staff, feet in a shallow pile of mysterious meat, all that remained of the Consecrated Flying Serpent. Hmm. He’d been standing in worse.
“Good timing,” Alhaitham’s usually strong, albeit bored, voice cut through the sudden quietude.
But even in the echoing chamber, he sounded weak.
Cyno looked up.
Bathed in a halo of light from the tunnel he’d just plunged down was the Acting Grand Sage.
“Forgive me for not getting up to greet you,” he said, coughing weakly. “I’m… A little held up.”
Cyno hummed, “You should leave the puns to me.”
He tried not to react visibly, Alhaitham clearly knew what this situation meant.
But Cyno found all of his abilities to remain expressionless being held to the test.
Because Alhaitham was, in fact, held up- Literally. His body in strange angles in the tree, the thickest branch holding most of his weight while another branch pinned him in place as it lanced through his body. One leg was bent, the angle harsh, alarming- It wasn’t bent on a joint, the bone clearly broken through.
“Leave me,” Alhaitham said, “Pull yourself together and leave me behind. By my guess, they’ve taken her-”
“We have her,” Cyno interrupted, finally finding his voice. “She’s in the city.”
Alhaitham looked at him, studying him for a trace of a lie and clearly thinking he’d found one.
“I’m sure,” he said, “Then leave me and go find medical care for me. Staying here does no good and I can’t be moved.”
Cyno hummed, coming closer, evaluating the situation.
Alhaitham might not be wrong.
If he pulled the other man off the branch, he would bleed out faster than Cyno could get him anywhere.
“She’s with Candace and Dehya,” he said, taking in the man before him and walking around the tree base to the best of his ability. Alhaitham hummed.
“If that’s true,” Alhaitham coughed, and Cyno waited for him to find his voice. “Then why am I so convinced you are lying to put me at ease?”
“Because that’s usually what someone would do, isn’t it? Say anything to soothe an injured friend?” Cyno glanced at him, Alhaitham’s face flickered. Cyno hummed, reaching into his pack and pulling out a mushroom. “Eat this, it will help.” Alhaitham tried to reach for it, but couldn’t. “May I?” Cyno asked, darting carefully up the branches and holding it towards Alhaitham’s face. Alhaitham’s silver hair shimmered as he nodded, catching and casting light with the slight movement.
Alhaitham carefully took bites of the mushroom, his face smoothing out as the fungus’s pain-relieving properties kicked in almost immediately. Cyno didn’t know why this felt intimate, special- It wasn’t like he hadn’t cared for other’s who had fallen in battle. Perhaps it was their past that made him feel like he’d crossed a barrier with the other man.
“Her scarf,” Cyno said quietly, voice carrying despite the low volume he’d chosen to use. “They stole her scarf. I’m guessing that they left if and that’s what convinced you the threat was real.
“If you combine that with the drugs they slipped into your coffee…” Cyno trailed off, surprised to see a small smile curving the broken man’s lips.
Alhaitham wasn’t one for showing his emotions, even in relative privacy, he was the kind of person that would let the twitch of his lips be the only indication of a bright smile, a creased brow flicker, his frown.
But this was a smile, a full smile. Cyno felt his breath hitch.
Alhaitham chuckled, lifting his hand towards Cyno.
“She might want this back,” he murmured, the mushroom interacting with what had been in his coffee, making him almost slur as the drugs interacted with a way that lessened his strict control over his muscles.
Cyno watched at Alhaitham opened his hand, a tassel from Collei’s scarf creased and crumpled from where the Acting Grand Sage had kept it firmly in hand as he traversed the nation.
Alhaitham hummed, “Or perhaps not; I didn’t realize any of it was exposed to blood. I… Apologize to Collei for me?”
“Apologize yourself,” Cyno commanded, pulling mentally back from the closeness of the situation, the intimacy of it.
He needed to get Alhaitham out of here, he needed to get him medical care now if he was going to have any chance at-
“Cyno?” Alhaitham breathed, looking at the tassel in his hand, his voice soft. Cyno hummed, maybe if he cut the branch and left it… In place? That would buy them some time. “Does he know you love him?”
Cyno knew what this was, had heard this all before.
This was the ‘I’m about to die, let’s get Deep™’ conversation that people always seemed to want to have when they were felled in battle.
Absolutely not.
“You aren’t dying here,” Cyno said, “Ask me this again when you’re back at work if you still wish to discuss it.”
Alhaitham hummed, “I always thought that I didn’t need love. Not when I had my books, my job; my house became a home when Kaveh returned…” Cyno grunted, indicating that he was listening even though he was absolutely not going to let Alhaitham die here. Not now, not like this.
“Before all that, I was always one to weigh the pros and cons of any action. I held peace above all else, keeping my days…
“Simple,” he closed his eyes, each blink seeming to take longer than the last.
Cyno was running out of time that he hadn’t even really had to start with.
“Stop talking,” he said, ignoring how harsh it sounded. “You’re wasting energy on that that you don’t have to expend.
“Can you hold onto me?”
The only way out was the anemo chute, he had to risk it.
Alhaitham hummed, “Not for long.
“I’m losing too much blood, I’ll pass out before long.”
Cyno cursed under his breath, carefully climbing down and doing his best to keep the branches from jostling the other man.
“I think,” Alhaitham breathed, “That maybe a little less peace would have been a fair trade for love.”
“Kaveh will be there when you get back,” Cyno muttered, “Tell him you love him when we get you to the Bimarstan, he’ll be waiting for you.”
Alhaitham waved a lazy hand, “Kaveh knows how I feel about him, he’s… Fun to rile up, a dear friend…
“I… Perhaps,” he choked on a cough, it sounded wetter. Cyno could almost hear the time ticking out. He froze, waiting for Alhaitham to continue. “Perhaps I miscalculated…
“Love is worth disrupting peace, I think.”
Cyno hummed, “Love should bring you peace, Alhaitham. When you get better you can make your reconsiderations.”
“I never thought I would be one for regrets, Cyno,” Alhaitham admitted, the only sign of what one could consider weakness exposed to the light with soft spoken words. “You would do well to ensure you don’t have any, if you can avoid it.”
“I have few regrets,” Cyno murmured, entertaining the conversation as he made a plan. “I’ll need you to hold on to me up, I’ll need to be able to control the glider. Once we’re on the ground, I’ll carry you.”
“If he doesn’t know,” Alhaitham said, ignoring his warning. “You should tell Tighnari you love him.”
“Tighnari knows that I love him and Collei,” Cyno said, pulling out his staff. “He knows that we are a family.”
“If you speak about them on the same level,” Haitham breathed, eyes slipping shut. “I doubt he knows they extent of your feelings.”
“He’s like a brother to me, he knows this,” he twirled his staff. “You will fall if you don’t hold yourself up, I’ll do my best to keep the branch steady.”
“A brother?” Alhaitham asked, eyes flashing. “Like a brother?”
“Yes,” Cyno growled, “Are you listening to me? I’ll need to cut the branch-”
“You love him like a brother,” Alhaitham interrupted.
“Yes,” he snapped, “Alhaitham, the branch-”
“I’m going to die regardless of how steady you keep the damned branch,” Alhaitham snapped back.
“You don’t know that,” Cyno shot back, denying the truth they both knew. Alhaitham merely hummed, eyes sharp on him in a way that he didn’t know what to do with.
“Do it,” the Acting Grand Sage said, hand closing over the scarf again.
Cyno nodded, once.
“This will hurt,” he muttered, carefully holding the branch.
“It’s unavoidable,” Alhaitham murmured, and Cyno paused. The silver stranded man was not one to use words in excess, use them to soothe. But he knew that the only reason to say that was…
He was trying to ease Cyno’s guilt at hurting the already wounded man, despite him being the one that was broken.
Guilt dropped harder into his stomach, sharpening.
He swung his staff, using it as a blunted ax.
Alhaitham exhaled sharply, the burst of air being the only show of pain.
He bit down another useless apology and swung again.
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
Alhaitham braced himself again, but everything was moving through time in way that he couldn’t process correctly.
The fungus that Tighnari had cultivated for Cyno either on its own, or with the drugs that he’d ingested with his coffee, was making it impossible to untangle the thoughts in his brain or keep track of time.
He knew he was saying too much but doubted any of it made sense.
His heart wasn’t beating correctly.
He could tell that even with all the ways that things were falling apart in his perception, that his beating heart was weaker and the pattern wasn’t steady.
Alhaitham wasn’t going to make it out of this.
He tightened his hold on the tassel in his hand, focusing on that as the branch inside of him jostled harshly.
He was in free fall for a half breath and then Cyno caught him, and, oh.
“Are you still with me?” Cyno’s voice, the drugs, his impending death lowering his inhibitions had him shivering at the baritone that rumbled through him.
“You… Fast,” he muttered, how had Cyno moved so quickly?
“A man in my position has to be quick on his feet,” Cyno said, carefully adjusting his hold on Alhaitham.
“Generally speaking,” Alhaitham heard himself joke as he adjusted, wrapping his arms around Cyno’s shoulders. “I’d agree with you.”
“I thought I told you to leave the word play to me, Acting Grand Sage,” Cyno muttered, barely audible as he stepped into the blustering anemo.
“You’re acting far too seriously,” Alhaitham muttered, heart tripping over itself.
“Ready?” Cyno asked.
“No,” he answered honestly. “But if you don’t go now, I’ll-”
Cyno didn’t wait for the end of his statement before he opened his glider, shooting them into the air.
For one breathtaking moment, Alhaitham was able to see both of Cyno’s intriguing ruby eyes, his hair wild in the wind as he ushered them up towards the surface.
Alhaitham tightened his hold, nausea roiling through him, unconsciousness tugging at him. He fought it back. He was going to indulge in the feeling of Cyno for as long as he was able.
“Let go,” Cyno said softly, bracing himself as they landed on the sands. “Focus on keeping your heart beating, I’ll get us out of here.”
Of that, Alhaitham had no doubt. He just wasn’t foolishly hopeful enough to think that he would be alive to witness the General’s success.
“Do you think you can stay conscious?” Cyno asked, feet moving silently as he began to run.
Did he? Not really.
Was he going to do his best? Absolutely.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, arms weakening in spite of just how much he wanted to keep holding on. Cyno glanced at him as his arm fell, cradled between them uselessly, a flicker of fear in those already concerned eyes. Alhaitham hated it, yes, but…
Alhaitham also found himself loving it in some dark part of him.
Cyno cared. Cyno cared if Alhaitham made it back.
The artificial warmth of emotion was at odds at the cool settling in from the blood loss.
He wanted to tell Cyno that he would make it back, that he was looking forward to the TCG game that they’d agreed to play but never scheduled.
But he wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t be making it back.
He had, actually, been looking forward to the game.
But he’d been too worried about too many silly things to allow himself to actually schedule the game, even if work had allowed.
“I want to be selfish,” Alhaitham says, murmurs. The hazy look of an expertly avoided Ruin Guard barely causing Cyno to pause in his journey.
“So be selfish,” Cyno breaths back, not a hint of strain despite the way he was flying through the sands, a man several heads taller than him in his arms, a dying man made of dead weight.
“I don’t think you’d forgive me,” he admits. Cyno’s step falters slightly. “And I don’t think I’ll be around to convince you to try to forgive me.”
“I’m getting you to medical, Alhaitham,” Cyno’s voice is flinty. “And you’re one of the most stubborn men I know. If anyone could convince me to do something that I didn’t want to do, it would be you.”
Unfamiliar emotions ran through him, he didn’t have time to decode them.
“Am I really so different?” he asked, “You almost make me sound special.”
Cyno snorted, face lighting up as they closed in on the opening maw of the cave.
“You don’t seem to be the insecure type, certainly you’re aware of being extraordinary, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham hummed, “I know who I am, but I’m less sure of how you view me.”
“Does my impression of you really matter so much?”
“Yes,” Alhaitham admits. He’s out of time.
Cyno studies him for a half a second, barely slowing. Whatever he must see on Alhaitham’s face has him speaking in a worn voice, “Then you should know that I hold you in great regard. You’re more reliable than most other people.
“I suppose in simplest terms, I would agree with your assessment. I do think you’re special.”
Ah.
Alhaitham had been a fool.
He’d waited too long.
“Then forgive me my selfishness,” he demanded, words and tone strong when his voice couldn’t not be.
“Make it through this and I’ll forgive anything,” Cyno promised.
“And if I don’t?” Alhaitham asked, but Cyno simply shook his head.
“Don’t give up on me, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham hummed, vision swimming.
“Try to forgive me,” he breathed, adjusting himself with clunky movements.
Cyno halted in his run, looking panicked, “Alhaitham, are you-”
He raised a bloodied hand and pulled Cyno’s face towards him, pressing their lips together.
Cyno’s lips were chapped from the sun and sand, mouth opened in surprise.
But he kissed back, he kissed him back.
“Forgive me,” he breathed, lips brushing Cyno’s as he spoke, “Please, forgive me, my love.”
Alhaitham fell back into Cyno’s strong hold, darkness sweeping in, it was out of his hands now.
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
Cyno runs faster, pushes harder.
Alhaitham had gone limp, Cyno can feel the warmth leaving Alhaitham’s body. He was shivering in short bursts, each jolting movements pulling a harsh breath from him. Even the slight movements causing so much additional pain, or Alhaitham being so far gone, that he couldn’t keep the pained sounds under the lid.
“Stay,” Cyno bit out, pushing his lungs beyond the brink as he ran. “Stay with me, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham opened his eyes, they looked unseeing; they were dimmed in a way that Cyno didn’t like. He’d never seen.
“Why?” he bit out, trying to force Haitham back to life, back into conversation. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
Alhaitham hummed, “She…”
“Alhaitham?” Cyno asked.
Alhaitham hummed.
“Answer me.”
“Important…” he breathed, barely audible. “To you.”
Cyno almost stopped short, forcing his body to keep moving, faster. He was so close.
But it was too far.
“You’re important to me,” Cyno admitted. “You matter to me. You need to get through this,” he panted. “I need you to get through this.”
“That’s…” Alhaitham exhaled, it was wet. Too wet. His tried to look at Cyno, eyes flickering, lids shuttering. “Important?”
I’m important to you? Cyno heard the question that he was trying to ask.
And it was true, he was. He cared for Alhaitham in a way that he had never taken the time to consider. It had never mattered, he’d always had time to consider it later.
“Yes,” he said simply, slowing as he had to plot a more careful path around the Eremite camps that would not hesitate to strike while he was holding-
“Lying?” Haitham asked, barely louder than the tumbleweed skittering past.
Are you lying to me?
“We were at Lambad’s,” Cyno breathed back, “The first time I saw you laugh at one of my jokes.”
“Like… Them,” Alhaitham admitted, shivering between the two words.
Cyno ached, could see how hard the other man was struggling to keep himself tethered to his body, keep himself awake, alive.
“Do you?”
Alhaitham hummed, drew in a ragged breath. “Forgive?”
Will you forgive me?
But Cyno didn’t know what he was supposed to forgive him for. For the kiss? For the love?
For dying?
“For what?” Cyno asked, coming around the edge of the wall, back on stable ground, back to running.
Alhaitham didn’t answer.
Cyno didn’t like that.
“For what Alhaitham?”
The only reason he knew Alhaitham was still breathing was the rough sound of it, but it was shallow, horrible, slower than it should be.
“I have to forgive you,” Cyno said, desperately hoping that Alhaitham could still hear him. “I didn’t kiss you either, never told you either.
“There’s nothing to forgive.
“You hear me?” he asked, risking a glance at the unconscious man in his arms.
“Alhaitham, do you hear me?
“I need you to live so we can do more kissing, so we can talk about it.
“Alhaitham?”
He couldn’t hear the horrible breathing.
He couldn’t hear anything over his own heart and strained breathing.
“Alhaitham?”
He looked down, and he knew…
But he didn’t slow down, couldn’t slow down.
What if he was wrong? What if there was something that he could do?
What if he could still be saved?
He knew that Dehya was staying with Dunyarzad and Collei, that Candace was on his trail. He could only hope that Aaru’s guardian was moving swiftly, was bringing a healer.
A dusk bird circled overhead and hope flickered to life in Cyno’s chest.
He let out a low whistle and the bird dove, cooing at him.
“Drop,” he commanded, seeing the letter in its talon. “Guide,” he demanded, watching the letter roll on Alhaitham’s lap, bouncing against unmoving fingers. “Go,” he uttered the final instruction and watched the bird fly towards the city.
The tag on it was one of Tighnari’s. He had faith that the bird would make his way back to someone, anyone, and bring them to him. He hoped that it was Tighnari, hoped that they would be there in time.
“You see that, Alhaitham?” he asked the cool man in his arms, muscles screaming as he kept going, “They’re coming. You just need to hold on a little longer.
“Just stay with me for a bit more.”
The terrible silence was pushing down on him, Cyno knew was the silence meant.
“Alhaitham?”
He looked down, stomach dropping.
Alhaitham’s head had fallen off Cyno’s shoulder, his unseeing eyes were half lidded, trained on nothing, glassy and blank.
Alhaitham didn’t blink.
Cyno slowed, there was no need to keep running.
He adjusted his hold, jostling Alhaitham’s head back onto his shoulder and shoving his emotions down.
There was nothing to be done now.
It was too late.
It always had been.
Alhaitham had been right.
Cyno held him tighter, the world blurring frustratingly around him, unwelcome and unbidden tears taking his sight from him.
No.
He refused.
He couldn’t give up.
There was still a chance.
Maybe Nahida could-
Cyno shut his brain off.
He couldn’t afford to do this.
He focused on his breathing, clutching Alhaitham to his chest and just moving.
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
“I see him,” Candace said, “He has the scribe.”
“Grand Sage,” Tighnari corrected, ear flicking as he looked up the tree at Candace where she’s climbed to get a better vantage point after his dusk bird had come back to them.
“Acting Grand Sage,” Kaveh corrected dryly, “He’d never forgive you for not acknowledging that it isn’t permanent, you know.”
“We need to move,” Candace said, something dark on her face as she rejoined them on the ground. “The General has the scribe in his arms. Alhaitham’s leg is broken. It doesn’t look good.”
“What?” Kaveh hissed, colour draining from his face.
“Wait here,” Tighnari said, “Start a fire. I might need it for medical.”
Kaveh nodded, hurrying to grab kindling as Tighnari and Candace moved towards the path Cyno was carving towards the city.
“Good idea,” Candace said, chancing a glance at the Forrest Watcher. “I don’t know if he’ll be able to handle this.”
“Handle what?” Tighnari asked.
Candace shook her head.
Cyno crested the hill in front of them, Alhaitham’s limp frame in his arms, part of his leg swinging awkwardly, unnaturally.
“We don’t need the fire, do we?” Tighnari asked.
“No,” Candace breathed, looking at the men coming closer. “No, we do not.”
Cyno was steady in his steps, not seeming to notice them as he walked.
There was a bloody handprint on his cheek, a clear streak of skin cleaned by the glint of tears.
“Cyno?” Tighnari called, heart breaking, hoping he was wrong.
Cyno didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at them as he continued.
“General Mahamatra?” Candace asked.
“I’m taking him home,” Cyno said, walking past them. “He deserves to be home.”
“Kaveh is that way,” Tighnari called after him.
Cyno paused, adjusting his hold on Alhaitham.
“Alhaitham will remain dead regardless of where Kaveh is located,” he said, “I’m taking him home.”
“General,” Candace said, “Let me take him. You’ve… You must be tired.”
“I’m taking him home,” Cyno said again, voice stronger than white iron chunk.
“You don’t need to do it alone,” she said, shaking her head. “Let us help you.”
“I couldn’t save him,” Cyno said. “The least I can do is get him home.”
“Cyno,” Tighnari tried, voice tight with emotions that he didn’t want to consider.
“I need to do this,” Cyno spat. “He died for me, the least I can do is take him home.”
Neither Tighnari nor Candace could think of a response to that, not before Cyno was out of ear shot, not when he wasn’t going to listen to anything rational.
“Cyno?” they heard Kaveh ask, they heard the wounded sound the blond made when Cyno didn’t respond.
For someone who had made his life one of quiet and peace, solitary, the removal of it caused a void that would likely never be filled again.
⬪ ⬨ ⬪
Cyno knew that in death, a new cycle would begin.
As he continued on his path back to Sumeru City, Kaveh collapsed on the ground behind him, he couldn’t help but wrestle with the fact that while he knew that the new cycle would begin…
He just... He couldn’t accept that the last had ended.
⬪ ⬨ ⬪