Chapter Text
They’ve had what Kaveh calls the ‘fungus conversation’ several times now. It started as a joke about the architect somehow devolving into a fungus, but Kaveh insisted on bringing it up again every so often, repeatedly claiming that at least he would be a fungus with empathy.
Meanwhile Alhaitham, presumably, would not.
Kaveh’s insistence on this point seems strange, not least of all because Alhaitham thought he knew him better than that.
Despite the fragile, jagged thing that is their relationship, Alhaitham does care about Kaveh’s perception of him.
The same cannot be said for others. He doesn’t correct the assumptions they draw; if they believe the Acting Grand Sage to be cold, robotic, lacking in empathy, or cruel, then they approach him less.
This is a good thing. For Alhaitham, at least.
Kaveh says he can’t understand why he lets these misperceptions of his character continue, but to Alhaitham it’s simple enough. An approachable, openly compassionate Alhaitham is one who is asked to do things.
Alhaitham does not want to do things.
His perfect day consists of staying at home in silence or perhaps with music playing, reading a book, and perhaps annoying Kaveh once or twice. Ideally, this perfect day also includes a weighted blanket, a mug of steaming tea, and some food that he’s able to eat while reading.
He likes his quiet.
Today is not quiet. A combination of Amurta and Spantamad researchers are loudly frustrated that he rejected their latest funding proposal and is now threatening to shut them down. This is something the researchers shouldn’t be surprised by, given their idea of ‘researching how ambient ley line energy influences fungus biology’ veers dangerously close to violating one of the Akademiya’s cardinal sins.
Which, as Alhaitham has pointed out to them, are written down for a reason.
Of course, by now Alhaitham has dealt with enough angry, slightly insane researchers to know to take precautions. Two matra tail him as he follows the researchers to the lab, ready to intervene if he gives the signal.
He has agreed – and is currently regretting agreeing – to accompany the researchers on a tour of their lab, where they have one final chance to prove that this is a project worth completing.
Alhaitham doubts they will succeed. And he doubts they will take the dismissal kindly, hence the presence of the matra.
“Grand Sage, you cannot shut down this project!” one of the Amurta scholars – Farabi, his name tag reads – is pleading. “We’re on the cutting edge of development here! We’re so close to a breakthrough!”
Alhaitham sighs. Farabi is just throwing words together at this point. ‘Cutting edge of development’ hardly means anything.
“By breakthrough,” Alhaitham says, “I suppose you mean breaking Sumeru’s laws. I’ve informed you already that this project–”
“Yes, yes, I know!” Farabi cries. “But you see, we have no interest in interfering with human evolution! Our project only deals with animals! As you’ll see once you enter our lab! We’ve come quite close to harnessing a ley line – that was Spantamad’s contribution, really, this is a project that spans multiple darshans–”
Adjusting the settings on his noise-cancelling headphones – Farabi is loud – Alhaitham sighs again. “Just because a project involves multiple darshans does not mean it will end well.”
And he would know. His old thesis project with Kaveh is a prime example of this.
As Farabi shows him around the lab, Alhaitham takes everything in with a few disinterested glances. It’s really nothing special – various instruments, multiple unpleasant smells, and quite a bit of energy contained in jars. Several crates hold a collection of forest animals and fungi, some in various stages of mutation.
“While your project is interesting,” Alhaitham starts, “I see no reason it is needed. But since I’m already here, you have ten minutes of my time. After that, I leave. I’m a busy man–” he isn’t, but that’s none of Farabi’s business– “and I have other things I would like to accomplish today.”
Farabi huffs, but continues the tour anyway, explaining why this project will provide the Akademiya with valuable knowledge on how the ley lines affect the biology of animals, plants, and even humans.
Alhaitham stops him there. “You’ve continuously maintained that this would not involve humans. Are you suggesting it will? You’re aware–”
“Yes, I’m aware!” Farabi snaps. While Alhaitham has picked up on the fact that Farabi has been holding back a large degree of frustration towards him, this is the first time he has outwardly shown any of it. Interesting. “But you see how this can be useful, no? Being able to shift organisms from one form to another?”
“I don’t,” Alhaitham says. “You’ve continuously stated you wish to expand our knowledge of how the ley lines affect biology – something that is valuable – but I have scanned over multiple of the journals your colleagues have left out, and none suggest you are gathering the data you claim to be. This is exactly why I have not provided funding. In addition, I am going to shut down–”
“No,” Farabi hisses, teeth gritted, “you are not.”
Here it is. Again.
(These researchers are all the same, aren’t they?)
“Let me guess,” Alhaitham sighs. He’s been through this song and dance before. It’s the same thing, just different faces and increasingly inane ideas. “You lured me down here to trap me, correct? I’m assuming you intended to make me a part of your experiment. Unfortunately for you, my combat skills are not something to be taken lightly. Unlike most of the Akademiya’s researchers, I’ve actually put effort into developing my physical abilities.”
He turns away from Farabi, surveying the laboratory. “I recommend letting me leave now. The equipment you’ve compiled is expensive, and I’m sure other, more legitimate researchers, would like to make use of it. No need to see it damaged in a scuffle.”
The air around Alhaitham hums.
It’s the only warning he gets before a shield of energy clicks into place around him, too fast to teleport out of using his vision. Static crackles in the air as Farabi grins.
“We won’t be having any ‘scuffle’, I’m afraid.”
This is new.
It is not the first time an insane researcher has tried to trap Alhaitham, and it likely will not be the last, but it is the closest anyone has gotten to it.
Farabi was prepared for this, he realizes.
Whatever. He likely has ample time to stage an escape or signal to the matra while Farabi inevitably monologues.
(As he’s said, he’s been through this song and dance before.)
Alhaitham summons a chisel-light mirror in his hand, being careful to not let Farabi see. It won’t break the barrier, but if he angles it just right, the matra waiting outside will see the flash.
“An interesting development,” he drawls, shuffling to avoid the crackling static of the energy shield. He’s not worried, not yet. “What exactly is it that you plan to do next?”
Farabi’s grin widens. “Why don’t you find out?”
The air hums as a button is clicked.
This isn’t how it usually goes. There’s always a monologue, as whatever miffed researcher it is this time tells Alhaitham exactly what they plan to do to him, usually in gruesome detail. While Alhaitham listens to how he’s about to be assimilated into a hive mind, fused with the remains of a dead god, or have his soul imprisoned in a cursed artifact, he’s always been able to break free.
But no. Farabi plans on monologuing as he runs the experiment.
For the first time in a while, an electric shock of genuine fear runs through Alhaitham. His stomach lurches as the room spins violently, the remains of what little he had for breakfast spilling onto the floor.
Shit. He really isn’t getting out of this one.
“Don’t worry,” Farabi is saying, the buzzing in the air growing louder and louder. “We’ve made quite a few breakthroughs with our research. The process is perfectly safe. Unimaginably painful, I believe, but a few sacrifices have to be made. You’ll survive.”
Adrenaline courses through his veins along with a melting, tearing sensation. Alhaitham falls to his knees, bracing himself as the pain rips into his body as if he’s been doused in acid.
His vision blurs. Everything is getting more and more present. The room is getting bigger, the energy cage swelling around Alhaitham. Dimly, he registers that his headphones have slipped from his ears, his once-tight clothing hanging loose around him.
Farabi is still talking, somehow. Alhaitham can no longer make out the words.
His body is melting, folding underneath him as he’s carried into unconsciousness.
As his vision darkens, Alhaitham hears Farabi laugh.
<><><>
Through the haze of pain, Alhaitham registers that he’s being moved. Gloved hands wrap around his body – why are they so large? Why is he so small? – lifting him into the air. Footsteps echo beneath him, thunderous vibrations shaking his frame.
His headphones aren’t working. His mind isn’t working.
Alhaitham has always been a logical person. He has always been able to keep a cool, level head in times of crisis, which this most certainly qualifies as.
There are people speaking above him. Alhaitham cannot make out what they are saying.
His mind is folding in on him, just like his body a minute prior.
As he loses consciousness again, he hears the creak and clang of a gate slamming shut.
<><><>
Alhaitham opens his eyes to Farabi’s head looming over him, viewed through the bars of a cage. The world feels distorted – Farabi is far too large, Alhaitham far too small. His entire body is sore, and his limbs don’t feel especially cooperative right now.
“Well?” Farabi asks. “Does the Acting Grand Sage have any thoughts about his new role? I must say, this new form suits you much better.”
Alhaitham opens his mouth to give a retort, only to find that he no longer seems to have one.
This is not an ideal situation.
He doesn’t appear to have arms. Only two stubby legs beneath a pale, round body. The weight of something heavy is settled over his… head? Body? and when Alhaitham turns to look, he can see the edges of a wide-brimmed mushroom cap.
He appears to be a fungus. A rather small one, too.
His assessment of the situation drops from not ideal to absolute shit.
As Farabi starts to monologue – again – Alhaitham attempts to get his bearings. If he’s going to escape and (hopefully) return to his human form, he needs to figure out the limits of his fungus body and any potential weaknesses the cage might have.
Not having arms is going to be an issue. Alhaitham’s stubby legs don’t seem capable of moving him very fast, so if he is going to make an escape, it will have to be a stealthy one. There’s a chance that, as a fungus, he’d be able to float, but it seems unwise to attempt this in front of the researchers. They need to believe he’s given up.
“Are you listening to me?” Farabi asks, annoyance edging his tone. “Or was the experiment such a success that you now have the mind of a fungus as well?”
Alhaitham doesn’t respond. If they underestimate his mental capabilities, it gives him the advantage.
Farabi seems to take his silence as confirmation, and snorts. “You’ll get used to it. I’m sure it will hardly be a change for you. Archons, your personality was barely human in the first place. If you told me you were secretly a ruin construct, I would have believed you.”
His tone is scornful. It’s the exact tone Kaveh takes when he’s mad at Alhaitham.
It’s all too easy to conjure up Kaveh’s voice, to imagine Farabi’s words said through his mouth. The thought leaves a deep pit in what used to be Alhaitham’s stomach, and he tries to push it away.
(Except Kaveh knows him better than this. At least, Alhaitham hopes he does.)
“Sit tight,” Farabi snorts. “I already told the matra you went back to your office. I don’t think anyone is going to be mounting a rescue operation for you anytime soon.”
Unfortunately, Alhaitham fears they might be correct.
<><><>
Over the next few days, Alhaitham tests out the limits of his fungus form. It’s difficult to get used to the weight of his cap, and, with his Vision confiscated, he no longer has access to dendro energy.
Farabi keeps him on display, like some twisted sort of trophy, his cage positioned in the center of the laboratory. The other researchers gawk, but never touch him.
Alhaitham doesn’t like it, but if it keeps him away from the needles and scalpels of the researchers, he’ll take it.
At the very least, he seems to be the only human (or formerly human) subject. Alhaitham has preferred to keep his own messes private affairs, and it would throw a wrench in his forming plans if another person were to become involved in this.
Another bit of relief is that fungi don’t seem to have especially sensitive hearing. No longer able to wear his headphones in fungus form – which, along with the rest of his clothes and his Vision, had been confiscated– Alhaitham was expecting to have to suffer through constant sensory overwhelm for his stay here.
Strangely, illogically, he finds himself thinking of Kaveh. Does Kaveh know that he’s missing yet? Would Kaveh care that he’s missing?
Of course he would, Alhaitham thinks with a shake of his tiny body. Kaveh cares far too much about everything. Even when he shouldn’t. Alhaitham can’t decide whether or not to place himself in the category of things Kaveh should care about.
He… misses Kaveh.
It is surprisingly easy to admit, but then again, much of Alhaitham’s life has been spent missing Kaveh. The architect was his first – and, until the government coup Alhaitham unfortunately became caught up in – his only friend.
Alhaitham has never cared about someone else in the way he cares about Kaveh.
Given his current situation, however, it is highly unlikely that he will ever be able to confess this.
<><><>
When Cyno bursts into the laboratory, Alhaitham is asleep.
He is not really asleep, as fungi seem to enter some sort of half-dormant state, but it is the closest thing he has to human sleep and so, linguistically, he has decided it will count. As a biologist, Tighnari would probably disagree, but Tighnari is (hopefully) not currently a fungus, therefore his opinion on this is not especially relevant.
He is ‘awoken’ by the crackling of electro and the clang of a polearm against metal. Cyno. The General Mahamatra is here.
Which means Alhaitham will soon be out of here.
(Getting back to his human body will be another challenge, but for now, it seems best to go step by step.)
Cyno fights with focus and precision, aiming to stun, not kill. It isn’t long before several of the researchers are a half-unconscious pile on the floor underneath him, the remaining few lifting their hands in surrender. Next to Cyno is a slightly more familiar figure, the swinging of his claymore far less focused and with an anger Alhaitham isn’t used to seeing.
“Where is he?!”
Kaveh. He looks furious and frazzled and strangely, concerned, Mehrak hovering by his side as she scans the room. Alhaitham blinks.
Kaveh’s presence is… unexpected.
He hadn’t thought Kaveh would want to play a role in what seemed to be a rescue mission, much less such a prominent one. The architect is breathing heavily, bracing himself on his claymore as he scans the room.
Cyno is saying something to the researchers in his General Mahamatra tone, patient but deadly. Kaveh’s glare seems deadly as well, though far from patient.
“They don’t know where he is,” Cyno says. “They say Farabi discussed infusing people with elemental energy. There’s a chance that–”
“He isn’t dead,” Kaveh spits out. There’s something dangerous to his tone, something Alhaitham always expected to be wielded against him, not for him.
Perhaps he has severely misjudged Kaveh, or at least his perception of Alhaitham.
Cyno shakes his head. “Alhaitham is likely too valuable to Farabi to kill. He might be–”
Seizing his chance, Alhaitham slams his small body against the bars of the cage, causing them to rattle. He winces at the pain that shoots along his cap, but his risk pays off: Cyno is now looking directly at him.
“Say… does this fungus look anything like Alhaitham to you?”
He watches Kaveh move closer to the cage, his face enormous from Alhaitham’s small perspective. Shock, then horror creep over his features as he looks down at Alhaitham.
“Archons,” Kaveh whispers. “It really does.”
Alhaitham rolls his eyes. Kaveh is a genius; he should connect the dots soon enough.
Unfortunately, much of Kaveh’s intelligence seems to be discarded in favor of raw emotion when it comes to conversations with Alhaitham. Hopefully the pattern will not hold true for Alhaitham as a fungus, unable to speak (and therefore aggravate Kaveh) as he currently is.
Kaveh huffs. “I’m going to feel like an idiot if this doesn’t work, but… bounce twice if you’re Alhaitham.”
Despite the ridiculousness of that request, Alhaitham complies. Kaveh backs up so fast he nearly trips over Cyno, who has walked over to investigate.
Kaveh curses as he steadies himself. “Alhaitham!? You’re really a fungus?”
Being unable to respond due to lack of a mouth, Alhaitham can only roll his eyes again.
“We should free him,” Cyno suggests. “He doesn’t seem to have… mush-room in there.”
“My stupid roommate is a fungus and you’re going to joke about it?” Kaveh asks. He snaps his fingers, and Mehrak snaps the lock of Alhaitham’s cage. “Archons, Cyno.”
As Kaveh opens the door of the cage, Alhaitham is forced to confront how small he now is compared to his roommate. Just Kaveh’s hands are nearly as big as Alhaitham is now, and he steps backwards to avoid them, tripping over his cap and falling over.
“Hold still,” Kaveh says, and then Alhaitham is being lifted up, out of the cage and directly in front of Kaveh’s face. His stubby legs wiggle in the air.
To Alhaitham’s colder fungus body, Kaveh’s hands feel incredibly warm, almost feverish. He squirms in Kaveh’s grip, unease prickling at his cap with the intensity of Kaveh’s stare. Up close, Alhaitham can see every detail of Kaveh’s face, every shade of his crimson eyes.
“You’re…” Kaveh pauses, chewing at his lip. He lowers Alhaitham, then frowns. “Er– you’re very small. Even for a fungus.”
It wasn’t my choice to become a ‘small fungus’, Alhaitham thinks with a huff. But Kaveh has already moved on, talking to Cyno as he paces.
As he walks, Kaveh moves to cradle Alhaitham with one hand – a rather awkward position, with Alhaitham’s face now smushed against Kaveh’s shirt – the other rummaging through drawers until Kaveh finally finds what he’s looking for.
He holds up Alhaitham’s Vision, triumphant. “There it is!” he crows, bringing it down to show Alhaitham, who twists in his grip. He’s startled to discover that the vision is now maybe half his size, another unwelcome reminder of how vulnerable he is in this state.
He’s lucky Kaveh’s grip is gentle.
Alhaitham is set down on a table a moment later while Kaveh hands his Vision and clothing to Mehrak for safekeeping. Alhaitham watches as the now-towering Kaveh unclips his cape, the massive sheet of red fabric moving closer and closer.
Kaveh is planning to swaddle him, isn’t he?
Unfortunately, Alhaitham’s stubby legs don’t allow for much of an escape, and so the cape is wrapped around his tiny form, leaving him thoroughly swaddled.
“Calm down,” Kaveh mutters as Alhaitham kicks at the fabric. “This is the easiest way to carry you.”
At the very least, he’s left Alhaitham still able to see his surroundings, and so the fight is given up. Alhaitham allows Kaveh to carry him out of the laboratory after exchanging a few final words with Cyno, the sudden harsh sunlight causing him to squint.
Everything is huge from his miniature perspective, the surrounding buildings looking like palaces as Kaveh carries him through the streets. The current largeness of the world makes him uneasy.
How long is he going to be stuck like this?
“I guess you’re going to make this my problem now, huh?” Kaveh asks, keeping Alhaitham bundled against his chest. “Archons, even as a fungus you still have to bother me.”
Alhaitham had no intention of making this Kaveh’s problem. But it isn’t exactly in Kaveh’s nature to not make someone else’s problem his, and unfortunately Alhaitham doesn’t seem capable of arguing against it right now.
<><><>
Despite Kaveh’s insistence that they go see Tighnari, Alhaitham – through sleeve-pulling and stubby kicks – is eventually able to convince Kaveh to go straight home instead.
Alhaitham’s primary goal currently is to sleep (on his own bed, not the floor of a cage) for as long as possible, then preferably figure out how to get Kaveh to bring him a book.
Instead, Kaveh places him on the living room table, and begins to ramble.
“I know you’re tired and don’t want to see Tighnari now,” he says, “but we have to do it later. And I need to check out books on fungi care from the House of Daena. And– archons. I haven’t even checked in on you. I’m a terrible roommate. You’re a fungus and I haven’t asked how you’re doing.”
Kaveh is getting ahead of himself again. Alhaitham never asked the architect to take on his new fungus-shaped burden, not when he’s already taking on the burdens of so many others.
(And it’s not like Alhaitham can respond to any of Kaveh’s questions, anyway.)
Kaveh kneels down on the floor in front of the table, placing himself at eye level with Alhaitham. “Are you hurt?” he asks. “Er… nod if you are.”
Alhaitham shakes his body from side to side, causing his cap to sway. Kaveh breathes a sigh of relief, which feels more like a gale to Alhaitham. Though his gaze lingers, Kaveh falls silent after this, his arms folded as he leans back against the edge of the divan.
A moment later, a blow strikes the side of Alhaitham’s cap, and he stumbles backwards.
Kaveh withdraws his hand, looking almost nervous.
“...sorry,” he mumbles. “You had some dust on your cap, that’s all.”
Huh. The blow he had felt had been… Kaveh gently brushing dust off his cap. And Alhaitham had felt it as almost a physical attack.
He has to be careful. This new form of his is fragile.
Kaveh sighs, folding his arms on the table and placing his chin over them. The enormity of the architect from Alhaitham’s tiny perspective is concerning, and he shuffles back a bit, tripping over his stubby fungus legs. Kaveh’s eyes widen.
“You’re not… scared of me now, are you?”
Is Alhaitham scared? Kaveh could crush him like a bug if he wanted to. His breath alone already feels like a strong wind.
Staring at the architect, Alhaitham realizes he isn’t sure how to feel.
It’s not like he could tell him, anyway. Not without a mouth.
“You probably are,” Kaveh mumbles. “I don’t blame you. For Buer’s sake. You’re the size of a pita pocket and can’t communicate and I…”
Alhaitham wobbles forwards, staring up at the conflicted look on Kaveh’s face.
“...I could accidentally hurt you,” the architect admits. “But… I’m going to try not to, okay?
Alhaitham is aware that what he’s about to do is a risk. He takes it anyway, waddling over to Kaveh and pressing his small body against the architect’s palm.
The curve of Kaveh’s hand slopes to cradle him, thumb running over his cap as a small, sad smile creeps over Kaveh’s face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “We’re going to get you back to normal, okay? Then you can get back to nagging me about how I stay up too late and put too many spices in the rice.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “I guess I’ll have to enjoy the quiet while it lasts, though.”
Alhaitham rolls his eyes, smacking the edge of his cape against Kaveh’s palm. His roommate shouldn’t be so sure about that one. Alhaitham is inventive. Even with stubby legs, no hands, and no mouth, he’s sure he can still find a way to bother Kaveh.
He looks up into Kaveh’s eyes as the architect’s thumb continues to run over his cap. Kaveh looks strangely… sad.
Alhaitham isn’t sure what to do with this. He’s never been good with the emotional side of things. The one time Kaveh offered up his heart all those years ago, the only thing Alhaitham had managed to do was shatter it on the tiles of the House of Daena.
Maybe he’s been approaching it the wrong way. All this time, Alhaitham has silently waited for Kaveh to follow. He has held out a hand and waited for Kaveh to take it.
He has never told Kaveh that he could follow. Never told Kaveh he could take his hand. Doing so would appear far too close to pity for the architect to be comfortable with any of it.
And so Alhaitham has said nothing. And now, even if he wanted to, he has lost his chance.
Maybe they both know that.